#im still new and getting familiar with everything

[chatonyant]

One day I'll find a good way to map out my stories to better plan them out, both in world-building ways and plot ways

Problem is is that when I physically begin to write them down I end up losing a lot of motivation behind it and sometimes just straight up forget I have it

Plus writing in notes is somehow different from slamming into a chat and monologuing about some ideas, which somehow gets the ideas flowing better?

But if I only brainstorm in my head, things get floaty since it's hard to keep track of everything at once without it in front of me and yet making it so that it's in front of me is so very hard lmao

Also just getting started on brainstorm is like a Russian roulette– will I have an idea that will snowball or will I go "im going to think about the importance of face paint today" and then immediately get distracted

[mauxanhduong]

i just realized that theoretically i could stop being a trek blog because it’s like. two and a half whole hyperfixations behind me. but will i? nah <3

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

My brain, upon realizing tomorrow is the last day before my Night of No Sleep, decides to reminisce upon what has turned into a weird sort of tradition:

(When Trollhunters Part 3 Dropped) 

Me: it could be fun to stay up until 3am to watch a show when it first comes out.  I mean, just for the sake of the experience.  It’s utterly ridiculous, but I’ve never been in a fandom before now, so I might as well.

(When 3Below Part 1 Dropped)

Me: I can’t believe I’m doing this again.  Why am I doing this again?  I don’t need to do this, I really don’t.  Yet, here I am because my brain won’t be able to sleep knowing it can have answers as to what 3Below actually is.

(Now)

Me: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I know what’s going to happen and I’ve accepted my fate.

[woozifi]

y’all, netflix’s kingdom really CAME for me. it’s like, “do you wanna watch a kdrama but you’re bored by the stereotypical romance and villain plots? do you like sageuks for their costumes and set design but can’t stand 16 episodes of plot machinations and how slow the pacing gets? do you like bae doona? do you like zombies? here, bitch. take it. take 6 episodes of a zombie sageuk and wait another year for the next season. you’re fucking welcome.” and honestly??? i respect that.

[lemongogo]

[ferrstappen]

max the extra wag l Max Verstappen

a/n: this is so bad im sorry but it just came to my mind! I hope to post the second part of the Lando break up series tomorrow, hopefully after he gets on the podium!!!!

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader

genre: fluff

FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: you can't keep up with all the drama outside the track, but your boyfriend keeps you updated.

It's not like you didn't check social media or that your algorithm didn't show you edits of your boyfriend driving, trauma dumping, looking cute and hot as always, but after a couple of weeks being exploited as an intern, you didn't really have the time to keep up with the usual gossip from Max's work.

Monaco GP, 2023

It was great to be home. The best of the Monaco Grand Prix was that you could sleep on your own bed, you and Max could walk back home hand in hand, stopping to buy things you may need: sweets to fill your purse to binge while sitting on the garage, the special herbal blend Max liked to have before going to bed, condoms because the last box was almost empty.

Adored and precious routine. almost.

You had to admit Monaco made you a little more nervous, not only because of the narrow streets, but a lot of important, well-known people were all over the place, and Max was the center of it all. Even after years of relationship, you still felt nervous when he looked at your with glowing eyes.

This is my girlfriend, (y/n). She has this great internship because she's the best of her class. I'm sure you've met before.

When all that was over, you chatted a bit with known photographers from the paddock, and right when you were speaking to one of them, you noticed the special white and red look of Charles Leclerc, walking hand in hand with a girl.

It didn't catch your attention immediately, but when you were back home, comfortably sitting on your bed reading an article for work while Max viewed the photographs of the day, the image sneaked in your thoughts.

"You didn't tell me about Charles and Charlotte!" you released the statement a bit harsher than expected, Max's eyebrows furrowing.

"Tell you what?" Max was confused and his face showed it, it was funny.

"Charles Leclerc? Charlotte Siné? Sounds familiar?" you said playfully rolling your eyes.

"I know who they are, schat, but I don't know the thing I was supposed to tell you about? They broke up months ago, they even announced it on instagram, although it was completely unnecessary if you ask me," The last sentence painted a smile on your face, recognizing the change of the tone of his voice, posture and facial expressions, he was ready to gossip.

"But I saw them walking together today! They were walking towards the Ferrari garage, they were holding hands and everything!"

Right in that moment, you observed how his expression changed before realizing a chuckle, his loud and gorgeous laugh that instantly made your insides flutter because it came from his stomach, his lungs; the purest laugh, your favorite.

"She is his new girlfriend, babe," Max told you and your jaw dropped. "Checo said the same thing to me and Daniel when they walked in together for the first time, Checo was sure it was Charlotte until Charles introduced us before the press conference," Now he was in full gossip mode: sitting straighter, phone left behind, blue eyes open wide.

"I'm speechless," you told him, repeating what you saw in the morning over and over again, but your feelings suddenly deviated from surprise to betrayal, playfully hitting Max's thigh. "Honey, why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"

Barcelona GP, 2023

Today you entered the paddock alone, coming straight from the hotel room after landing just an hour ago. You were sad to miss Friday, but your boss said it was vital for you to be in the office on Friday, insisting the meetings couldn't be held on Zoom.

You knew it was because he's a Mercedes fan and hoped Max would be distracted without having you there.

As if. your presence wasn't very vital during the weekend and you were well aware of it.

Admiring the amount of fans cheering for their favorite drivers, a sea of red Ferrari merchandising and flags, you walked by the Ferrari garage to greet Carlos, letting him know you (and Max) were cheering for him to get P2.

P1 belonged to your boyfriend, always.

Quickly scanning the drivers lounge you noticed the Sainz family, very close to each other, Carlos Sainz Sr. listening to everything the engineers were saying about his son's strategy and car.

But something was missing, and it was easy to notice because every friend and family of Carlos was there.

With that idea roaming, you reached your destination, grabbing a sugar free Red Bull before finding your boyfriend with his suit hanging from his hips, tightly hugging him from his waist while carefully extending your neck to meet his lips.

Max was required to stay longer on the track, Christian letting him know they added a meeting to discuss strategy because of the changing wether.

This left you with almost an hour to kill; your head resting on his thighs as he carefully juggling.

"Max, have you heard anything from the party last week? after the gp?" this got Max's attention, already knowing you had a piece of information.

"I know Lando almost hooked up with a girl from Latin America, from Chile I think? but nothing happened because his brother was staying on his flat. Charles and... ex girlfriend 2.0? made it official. Checo didn't go anywhere because last year still haunts him..." Max was mentally remembering every piece of information he'd heard during the week. "Oh, and I think Carlos was with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend? Christian said they didn't do anything, but Max Fewtrell said they left together,"

"Interesting because you know who's not in the Ferrari garage? at his home race? Isa," You told Max, which caused him to drop the colorful balls he was juggling.

"No! So it's true? he cheated?" He whisper shouted.

"Maybe they've been broken up for some time, now that I think about it I haven't seen her since testing?"

Neither Max nor you heard when someone walked in, calling for Max. Because now Max's head was resting on your legs as your fingers caressed his hair, his hands moving around as he came up with a possible theory, tying loose ends and trying to remember anything he'd heard.

The subject was forgotten once you arrived to the hotel room; lights off, eyes almost closing, but Max gasped when he remembered something Alonso mentioned during a press conference, apparently after hearing Lance talking with Esteban.

"Lance said Esteban and his girlfriend are over, do you think it's true?" Max asked you, and this brought up another thing.

"Did you hear anything about Lance cheating or whatever at his sister's wedding?" now you asked him, bodies coming closer to each other.

Now sleep was long forgotten and the only important thing was the gossipy whispers, the loud giggle leaving Max's lips when something sounded too ridiculous, and the security of knowing you'd never be the subject of those rumors.

[reve-writes]

—dense; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 2,2k words. ʚ you're a bit clueless as to why the dirtyhands do the things he does, like call you schatje and pay you to steal something when he clearly doesn't need to. ʚ fluff. ʚ a/n maybe ooc kaz im sorry. more at the end!

Ketterdam is a marvel from afar, a pretty little flower offering promises of its nectar—new life, new opportunities, debauchery—only to catch you in its trap and swallow you whole. All the way up on the clock tower, roughly centralised in the port city, the Barrel is nothing more than bright lights emanating from bar signs and glittering roofs.

The bell rings, reveberating to signal the change of the hour. It's time to work, finally.

Your boots thump as you make your way down the spiraling concrete staircase, paying attention not to step on the chunks flaking off of the edge. Whoever was responsible for building this was clearly cutting cost, the concrete is about as fragile as clay.

A painting. It is an annoying job to do on your own, but your contractor offered a lot of Kruge for it—perhaps too much, but if Mr. Kikkert is willing to scrape his pockets for it, then you're more than happy to accept. It is more Kruge than you would ever need for a while, so you won't have to scrounge for scraps in this Ghezen-forsaken town. Moreover, it's been a while since your last job and you're frankly not doing too well.

You step lightly over the rooftops, hopping from building-to-building with sure, steady steps. You have done this for most of your lives, to avoid being stomped into the vile muck at the bottom of the Barrel, you learned to hide near the skies.

Where the painting is being kept isn't far from the Canal, just on the rows of overpriced apartments for rent. You were told that it was housed on the third floor of the corner building. Everything is going well. Your journey is uninterrupted and the stadwatch aren't on alert.

Until you spot him.

The familiar curve of his black hat. The high collar of his coat. The shining leather of his gloves.

Brekker.

You strut towards him as if you are neighbours crossing paths on your evening walks. When in truth, his Crow Club is on the other side of the town and you never come to this area without reason. You call his name sweetly. His head whips around immediately, finding you in the dwindling foot traffic of the street.

He says your name in a warning tone, suspicious of your being here.

“What? Can't I come and see an old friend?”

Brekker scoffs. “I don't know. Can you, schatje?”

You almost turn around and leave when you hear the term of endearment. He knows it gets under your skin—it always does. Your heart skips a beat or two and your train of thoughts gets interrupted whenever he calls you that. He means it as a jeering nudge and your head is wholly aware of that. Your heart, though. What a fickle little thing.

“A bit of a walk from the club, isn't it?” you say, falling into step next to him as he turns the corner towards the apartment building. “I assume you must be up to something.”

“Ah, but I'm always up to something.”

“I can't say I disagree,” you snort. “You don't happen to have a job around the area, do you?”

He halts, his cane knocking against the stone pathing. He turns to look at you and your elbows brush against each other. “Do you need anything? I have important matters to attend to.”

You bring a hand to your chest exaggeratedly, feigning a frown. “How callous. Call me schatje and throw me aside. Is this how you treat everyone, Kaz?”

“Only you, mijn schatje.”

You roll your eyes, unsure how to behave. Huffing, you say, “Stop calling me that.”

“I was under the impression that you liked the nickname.”

Oh, you do.

“I'll be going now. I've something to do. Stay off my job,” you warn. “You still owe me literal crown jewels from last time.”

Kaz's neutral expression shifts into fond nostalgia as he recalls the incident you're referring to. The crown jewels in question were under dispute by a pair of soon-to-be divorcees. One of them hired the Crows' help. The other called on you. One thing led to another and the item ended up in Kaz's hands and you went home empty-handed.

“I won that fair and square,” Kaz retorts. “Your current job wouldn't involve a certain painting, would it?”

Judging by his smug thin smile, you know that he knows.

“Tell me it isn't what you're here for.” You sigh exasperatedly. “Stay off of it, Brekker. I can't afford to lose another job.”

You think to be threatening, bluff your way out and tell him you'll tear down his Crow Club if he gets in your way, but you doubt it will work against the Dirtyhands. After all, you're one person and he has the whole Dregs behind him.

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment and for that terrible moment, you think that he may be there for the same reason you are, but he shakes his head lightly. “Fortunately, schatje, no. Stop looking as if you're going to murder me in my sleep.”

An involuntary smile blooms. “I wouldn't dream of it, Kaz.”

“Go on, then,” he says. “Be careful.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep from smiling. “You too.”

With that, you part ways with Dirtyhands, entering the building. Your acquisition of the painting goes smoothly and the deal is closed swiftly a few hours later. It's too easy. You know it is. You're missing something.

Miss something, you did.

You push open the door to the Crow Club carelessly. The loud chatter mixed with atmospheric radio surges to meet you as you push your way past sweat-slicked bodies and drunken patrons. Your eyes dart back-and-forth, trying to spot the familiar curve of his black hat or the shiny glow of the head of his cane.

Jesper spots you from one of the open gambling tables.

“If it isn't my favourite thief,” he says, inclining his glass towards you. “Fancy a game?”

It isn't until you stop by his table that he sees the downward slope of your frown and the sharp glare you're giving. He instinctively sits up straighter, taking his shoes off of the corner of the table.

“Where's Brekker?” You ask, to-the-point, without indulging in your usual chit-chat whenever you visit.

The other three patrons on the table freeze—sensing the tension on your shoulders, too. They look between you and jesper, both confused and intrigued to know more. What is Ketterdam if it doesn't have rumours and secrets whispered about?

Jesper's brow furrow. “Are you okay? What's going on?”

To Jesper's knowledge, you and Kaz are on friendly terms, despite the frequent bickering. Hell, he assumes you're more-than-friendly, with the way Kaz gives you a nickname—an endearment, to be specific. Is it possible that you're going through a lover's spat?

“Brekker, Jesper. Where is he?”

A familiar rasp cuts through the rowdiness. “Here.”

Your head whirls around and you shoot an accusatory stare at the source of the voice. You stomp your boots as you make your way towards him. As you pass by him, you tug on the sleeves of his coat.

“We need to talk.”

“Hold on, schatje,” he says, still trailing after you. His cane knocks against the hardwood of the floor. “About what?”

You make your way up the stairs, to the second floor and swing the door to his office open as if it belongs to you. He has an eyebrow raised when he enters after you, closing the door behind him. He leans back against it, waiting for you to speak whatever it is that's on your mind.

“Kikkert,” you snarl. “You paid him to pay me.”

“That's quite a conclusion. How did you come to it?” His voice is level, not betraying whether or not you've spoken the truth.

You're pacing in front of him. “He says, and I quote, ‘If you're so close to Brekker, why doesn't he ask you himself to do this?'”

His eyes furrow and he runs a hand through his combed hair. He sighs, holding a hand up in a you-caught-me gesture. “Kikkert clearly has no idea what discretion means.”

You glare at him. “Do you think this is funny?”

He seems taken aback. “I don't see why this is a big deal, schatje. It's a job. You're paid. I get the painting. What's wrong with it?”

“Why are you doing this, then? Pay me for something you clearly are able to do yourself? Hell, whose painting was it? Was it yours? Did you pay me to steal from you?”

He doesn't reply, but the way he shifts his gaze away from you let's you know. It's as clear as a verbal admission.

“It was yours. That's why you were there. From your safehouse, wasn't it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Is this amusing to you? I'm sorry if I don't quite see it as such.”

“Schatje—”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

You can't wrap your head around Kaz Brekker's thinking process. He pays someone to pay you to steal a painting he already owns. What's his plan in the long run? To embarrass you? Hurt your pride? Is this some sort of ploy to rope you to be indebted to him?

He sighes. “You were struggling. I only wanted to help.”

“Dirtyhands doesn't help people. You don't run gangs the way you do charities,” you retort.

Is that all you see him as? The demjin? The one who's willing to stain his hands for the right price? Is there no other version of him in your eyes?

“You're forgetting the man behind the monster here,” he says softly.

“Am I?” You approach him, leaving a little over two steps in-between the two of you. “Who exactly is the man behind Dirtyhands then?”

He pushes himself off of the door, taking one step forward. The thump of his cane practically echoes in the room. The hustle bustle of the Crow Club is nothing more than a muffled sound. There's a sudden tension in the air—the same one that hangs over you whenever he calls you his schatje, but this one is heavier due to your lack of light-hearted banter to parry.

“Do you really not know?” he asks, as if the question is staring at you in the face. As if it's the most obvious thing in all of Kerch. His stare is heavy, dark irises acting like magnets that pull you in. He scoffs, “You really are dense.”

“Well, enlighten me, Brekker! None of this is making a lot of sense to me.” You let out a frustrated huff of breath. Your hands move wildly to stress your points. “You know what? Whatever it is, I don't want to know. Just — quit doing it. I'll never take another job from Kikkert. I'll stay away from your damned club and all your friends. I'll stay away from you. I'm a capable enough thief without your pity, Brekker. I don't need it. You can shove it up your—”

His gloved hand wraps around your wrist as it's flailing in the air. Your speech immediately comes to a halt and your eyes widen.

“You are impossible,” he says.

You snort. “And you aren't?”

“At the moment, no,” he retorts.

His stare is intense. It isn't until then that you realise you've taken a step forward during your rant, decreasing the perfectly amicable distance and turning it into a heart-thundering one.

“It wasn't pity,” he says. “You're capable, I have never doubted that, but even the most capable ones struggle sometimes. My intention is to help. Trust me on this. I know you're too prideful to accept any, so I paid Kikkert.”

“But why? Why bother?”

“Why?” He blinks, sighing loudly before continuing. “Why? Have you ever stopped and thought, for a moment, that I've been calling you schatje. Do you think that was out of pity?”

You bite the insides of your cheek and shake your head. “It was something else.”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that it's because —ghezen forbid— I may actually harbour fondness for you?”

You blink once, twice. Kaz thinks he much prefers breaking into the ice court than having this conversation right now. His hand trembles when he brings them to brush your cheekbone lightly. He lets out a relieved sigh when you don't pull back. Your hand wraps over his gloved one, the leather cold on your skin. You lean into the touch.

“I thought it was one-sided,” you say finally. “I'm quite fond of you, too, you know.”

“You do a horrible job of showing it.”

“Says you,” you argue. “Just—don't do it again. Let me handle my own problems, Kaz. I'll let you know if I need your help.”

He hums in agreement. “You'll let me know.”

“I will.”

The two of you jump apart abruptly when there's a loud knock.

“Boss?” Jesper's voice sounds muffled through the door. “Everything okay? I hope ___ hasn't murdered you yet.”

“I haven't,” you answer, half-chuckling. Turning to look at Kaz, you say, “It's funny how he doesn't assume you'll murder me instead.”

Kaz shrugs. “He knows I can't.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Can't or won't?”

“Both,” he answers. “Can we not talk about murdering each other after what just happened?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. What just happened is you practically professing your little (well, maybe not-so-little) crush on him.

“So, is Kaz okay?” Jesper shouts again.

“Fine,” Kaz answers. “You can go back to your table.”

[ ]

i wanted to write something cute. schatje is taken from google and inspired from a kaz fic i read that used 'schatz' as a nickname. the plot is slightly ehhh? because it didn't really end the way i intended it to and i didn't proofread (when have i ever?). i was hoping to turn it into a two or three part series, but this is what we've ended up with & im quite happy with it. thank you for reading!

[starlight-eclipsed]

Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 1/2)

Inspired by this braindead rejected soulmates au post by @im-totally-not-an-alien-2. More art at the end!

Part II

Tim slumped down on the edge of an apartment building, leaning his weight against the rooftop’s fence. The alleyways below were deserted, criminals retreating to get a couple hours of sleep before sunrise. A perfect setting to catch a breather before ending his patrol for the night.

The Red Robin suit still felt wrong on him. He thought waiting a week to get accustomed to it would help, but he might have made a mistake when he tried to adjust it to be as close to his Robin uniform as possible without it being obvious. He’d have to remember to alter it further the next time he got the chance, to see if wearing something entirely different would finally make him stop checking the shadows for Bruce. Patrolling Gotham alone felt too much like admitting he was really gone.

Just as he was about to move on, the rooftop access door slammed open.

Tim nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around, ready to either apologize, attack, or flee, when he met familiar glowing green eyes.

Subconsciously, he let himself breathe easy as he took in the other’s appearance.

Phantom was an anomaly at the best of times. A phantom thief by definition, the criminal had simply appeared one day to cause chaos—lingering only to taunt his pursuers as he made a daring escape with whatever priceless treasure of the month. His motives were unknown, as was virtually anything about him besides his calling card (a green sticky note with nothing but ‘BOO’ written in permanent black marker), appearance, and a meta ability to phase through objects.

Of course, one couldn’t be a phantom thief without a detective rival (or so the thief in question claimed). For some reason, Phantom had outright declared not Batman, but Robin for the role. Tim couldn’t count how many sleepless nights were spent chasing after him, face red from a mixture of exertion and embarrassment. Because it wasn’t enough for the admittedly good-looking criminal roughly his age to run circles around him. No, the jerk had to go out of his way to flirt with him the whole time.

He hadn’t even thought about how Phantom would react to there being a new Robin. But looking at him now, a small part of Tim couldn’t help but feel selfishly glad. From what he could see of the furious expression on his shadowed face and glowing eyes, it wasn’t hard to see that Phantom was taking the change about as well as Tim was.

“I leave for two weeks, and suddenly there’s a new Batman and Robin?! What the fuck, Detective—you’d think to at least have the decency to tell a guy, but nooo, I had to find out through goddamn Victor Fries!”

Tim blinked, “Didn’t Mr. Freeze retire after someone brought his wife back?”

Phantom paused his fury, shrugging a bit. “Nora keeps track of everything happening in Gotham in case something her husband did to save her comes back to bite them.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway! It took me going after Victor to ask why there was a new Robin for me to hear that the actual Batman was dead, Gotham went berserk for a while as every other guy tried to take up the position, and somewhere along the lines you got the grand idea to add ‘red’ to your name! Which makes no sense, since you practically lived for that mantle and I would’ve bet that you’d take it past the grave if given the chance.”

Tim winced. As per usual, Phantom’s words hit home in more ways than intended.

The thief stopped short, the glowing of his eyes intensifying as he looked over Tim’s new identity. Tim didn’t move as soundless footsteps strode forward, not even pausing as Phantom phased through the chain link fence to sit a couple feet away from him.

He could count on one hand the number of times Phantom had done this. One second they’d be exchanging insults, and then suddenly the criminal would stop and stare, feeling like he was gazing into the depths of Tim’s very soul. Each time, he called off their chase, insisting that Tim take a break and talk to someone about whatever was troubling him. It was uncanny how he could somehow tell when Tim’s negative feelings were overwhelming his rational thought—Batman himself would use Phantom encounters to measure Tim’s wellbeing at times.

Looking back, it was odd how Phantom would insert himself into every aspect of Robin’s life, but back off the second he sensed something was wrong. He’d call attention to whenever Tim was particularly anxious, once even physically dragging Bruce over to ‘talk to your son when he’s sad’, but never offer any comfort himself. But here they were, Phantom obviously seeing something Tim could never hope to conceal, with no Bruce nearby to summon and make things better.

Tim’s throat clogged at the reminder of yet another little thing Bruce might never get to do again. He couldn’t be dead, not with how many times Tim checked the body and struggled to recognize the man who’d become like a father to him. 

“...I…I know we’re not exactly friends, Detective. But if you need to get something off your chest, I swear to never use it against you.” Phantom fidgeted with his cloak. From this close a distance, Tim could see the faint glimmer of sparkling purple constellations embroidered on the inside. For some reason, the sight of the soft fabric never failed to calm his nerves.

(It reminded him of a time long ago, when he held a gel ink pen and asked a mystery person to quit whatever they were doing that left his arms covered in star charts that didn’t match anything in the Earth’s night sky.)

He didn’t dare force himself to speak, for fear he might break this tentative peace. Thankfully, Phantom seemed to be taking initiative that night.

“...did you know that I used to be a teen hero?”

Tim’s head jerked upright, meeting Phantom’s eyes. It was impossible to tell exactly what expression he was making behind the mask, but he got a sense of bitter nostalgia. “You never talk about your past.”

A scoff, “Yeah, ‘cause it’s depressing as fuck. Not exactly the sort of thing you can talk about causally.”

He chewed his lip, thinking. “Your suit…minus the cloak, it looks reminiscent of a uniform.”

Phantom fiddled with a cylinder hooked on his belt. It was the only piece of tech visible on his person, a modified soup thermos that somehow served as a near infinite item storage. Impressive, if not odd.

“Yeah, the cloak is more of a blanket than anything else. I added it on when I got tired of looking at the same clothes I used to save my hometown in. It…I didn’t become a hero for fame. It was more trouble than it was worth, honestly. You guys nowadays have so much better support systems than when I was in the business. Makes me wonder if…” he trailed off.

“...why’d you stop?” Tim asked gently, more than willing to throw himself into this new mystery now that he knew it was there.

“It was too much. Everyone wanted me gone, even the people I was protecting. I was hated for my powers, for not always being on the scene when I was needed, for not ending fights faster and for the property damage my villains caused. I didn’t live in a place with metahuman protection laws. The few people that knew my secret identity got tired of superhero life and ditched the first chance they got.” He sighed, “I was hurting, and was desperate for a way out.”

Tim frowned, “So you moved to Gotham and started stealing?”

Phantom snorted. “Nah, I was fucked up for a while after I ran away. It’s funny, one of my rogues was the first to track me down and drag me to a hospital to get my injuries checked. Like a dozen of them got together for an intervention, I thought I was finally losing my grip on reality. I spent a couple months recovering, then took one of them up on a suggestion to try causing trouble for a change. Not anything super bad, but…”

“...enough to feel more in control?” Tim suggested. It wasn’t uncommon for people in bad situations to commit minor crimes, both for the adrenaline and the power rush. Tim himself had once poured his whole soul into tracking and photographing Gotham’s nighttime birds. A hobby that was more than a bit cringe-worthy in hindsight, and definitely creepy considering how much effort he put into stalking his idols. Honestly his young age was the only reason he didn’t get put on a watchlist when he revealed himself to Bruce. That, and the whole I-know-your-secret-identity thing.

“Oof. Yeah, that’s a way to put it. Being hated hurt less when that’s what I was aiming for, y’know?”

Tim tilted his head. “I never hated you.”

A derisive laugh, “Uh-huh. And you loved being led on goose chases when there were more important ways to spend your time.”

“I’m serious.” Tim shifted so that he was better facing Phantom. He didn’t know why, but couldn’t stand the thought of Phantom leaving tonight convinced he was universally hated. “You only make a scene on quiet nights, and you always slowed down for me whenever I had to stop and intervene on some other crime. And you only target the private collections of rich people. Not anyone whose life would be ruined by something getting stolen. You even go out of your way to make sure the guards on duty don’t get in trouble, even when it puts you in a strategically worse position. And…”

He hesitated. Bruce wouldn’t approve…but then again, there was that weird relationship he had with Selina.

“And it was fun. To chase you. It was challenging and frustrating, but your appearance meant that there was nothing else to worry about that night. We could just run regular patrols.”

Oracle was the one to make the connection. Tim didn’t know where along the lines it became an accepted fact, only that Bruce was more comfortable about Robin patrolling alone when Phantom was making a move. A miracle considering what happened to the last one.

Phantom blinked, frowning a bit before his eyes went wide, a shaky smile forming on his lips. “Thanks…it was fun for me too. Kinda the whole reason I kept setting up scenes for Robin to find.”

Tim laughed. The sound startled both of them—he didn’t remember the last time he genuinely smiled like this. It had to be sometime before Bruce was gone, at least.

“So…” Phantom hopped down on the railing of a balcony below, balancing precariously in the way that only he could. He looked up at Tim with an easygoing smile that did little to hide the concern underneath. “As your self-proclaimed favorite rogue, wanna tell me what’s up with the sudden change?”

He shifted a bit, grin fading. “Well…Batman died. He was facing Darkseid and got hit. After the chaos died down, Nightwing took up the mantle and made Batman’s son the new Robin, to help him grieve or something.”

“I don’t know where to start with that.” Phantom adjusted his hood, briefly revealing tan skin underneath. “You sound like you didn’t have a say in it. Wasn’t Robin yours?”

Something bitter worked its way up through Tim’s chest. “It was a borrowed title anyway. I only took it up to help Batman, so it makes sense that I was dismissed—”

“No.”

“—after huh?”

Phantom strode up to him, poking a finger at his knee. “You love being Robin. You don’t have to justify losing your identity. It could’ve been taken in the name of world peace for all I care, that doesn’t make it any less shitty. You just lost someone super important to you, and your connection to them was taken because someone thought your grief was less important. I don’t care who the current one is, you are just as much Batman’s son.”

Tim couldn’t help the small sob that escaped. Or when it doubled, and tears started burning at his eyes. He rubbed at them in an attempt to stop them before they could make his mask go hot and sticky, but was startled out of it by a soft weight being thrown over him. He looked up to see Phantom leaning over him, securing the hood of his cloak over Tim’s own head.

“You looked like you needed some comfort. It’s weighted.” Phantom shrugged.

“...thanks.” Tim pulled it closer, more than happy to latch onto yet another new focus. “How do you move so easily in this? It feels like I’m being hugged by gravity.”

Phantom chuckled, and it was at that moment Tim suddenly realized the other was floating in the air over him. Since when has he been able to fly?

“I use intangibility a lot, but it’s not my only power. It felt like overkill to use more than that in my heists. So I didn’t.”

Tim groaned, “You were going easy on me this whole time?”

“Oh, definitely not. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but intangibility is arguably the most pain in the ass thing to counter. I’m being annoying on purpose.”

Phantom grinned, and Tim couldn’t help but analyze the full sight of him. Everything from his teeth to his ears was pointed, a sharp contrast to the wispy white hair that flowed smoothly in a nonexistent breeze. The most attention grabbing was a glowing green mark resembling a gash across his chest, roughly in the place where a hero would wear their logo. The sight of it made Tim’s own chest ache.

“I don’t think Batman is dead.” He said suddenly.

“What makes you say that?” Phantom asked, reclining on empty air. 

It wasn’t denial, not calling him insane or lost in grief. For the first time since his fight with Dick, Tim felt as though he could breathe again. “I know it sounds crazy, there’s no proof—”

“Woah woah woah,” Phantom reached forward, gently pulling Tim’s hands away from where he had started pulling at his hair. “Slow down. Walk me through your thought process.”

“It just…it doesn’t feel right. Not that I can’t believe it if he died, but this specifically doesn’t feel right. I’d feel it if Br-Batman was dead…there was a whole cloning facility where Batman’s body was found.”

That seemed to spark interest in Phantom’s eyes. “You think the body was a clone?”

“Why would someone as powerful and precise as Darkseid drop everything and kill someone he was in the process of cloning? Why was he even trying to clone Batman specifically? We’re missing something, and I think Darkseid is using everyone’s grief to cover his plan.”

Phantom propped his chin on his hand, deep in thought. “Darkseid…I’ve heard that name before. Does he have something to do with time or space?”

Tim practically sagged in relief. “He can travel freely through both, and has a host of other abilities that give Superman a run for his money.”

He snapped his fingers, “Ah, that Darkseid! Yeah, if he wanted Bats dead there wouldn’t be a body left. I’d bet my collection he’s lost in time somewhere.”

“Thank you!” Tim gestured wildly, “You’re officially the first person to hear me out. Like, is it really so hard to believe?”

“No probs, Detect-o. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard, by far.”

“Exactly,” Tim huffed, leaning back and sighing. “Now I just have to convince the Justice League so they can go back in time and grab him.”

“Why not just get him yourself?”

Tim glanced over to where Phantom hung in the sky. “Unless you’re also hiding time powers in there, we kinda need the League to get to him. Plus I don’t even know when in time he is.”

“Lucky for you, I know a guy,” Phantom grinned. “The Master of Time messaged me this mornin’, something about stopping Batman from breaking the time space continuum. It’s why I’m back in Gotham so soon.”

“You…know the Master of Time.”

“Yep!” He popped the p.

“And they messaged you.”

Phantom hummed, “You can imagine how it went when I tried to confront Batman a couple hours ago. The new Robin’s a menace, if I was any slower you’d have to deal with a Phantom shish kebab.”

Tim winced. It was never fun to be on the wrong end of Damian’s katana. Still, he focused back on the insanity at hand. “So you’re saying you can just go back and rescue Batman right now?”

“Now that I know what’s happening, yeah. Clocky probably already has a portal ready for me. Batman will be back before you can say ‘Gotham’!”

It was inconceivable. To think, the living nightmare of the past weeks would be over, just like that. His brain was screaming at him that this was some sort of cruel setup, that there was no way Phantom was telling the truth. There had to be a catch somewhere, some kind of punchline in the sick comedy that was the life of Tim Drake.

But his heart, the part of him that just wanted his dad back won out.

“What’s stopping you? You’re not usually one to wait for a window of opportunity.”

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. “No, but I distinctly remember waiting for a certain vigilante. I was wondering if…you’d like to come with?”

Tim’s jaw dropped. “You’re inviting me, a vigilante who has attempted to arrest you dozens of times…to travel back in time to save Batman, another vigilante who has tried to put you under arrest.”

“Emphasis on tried,” Phantom joked, before turning serious. “I mean it—it’s your family. Besides, it could be fun. You come with me on a time heist, instead of sitting back here worrying your pretty head off with all the ways things could go wrong. And you get to tell everyone else ‘I told ya so’ when you save Batman on your own.”

He tried to work his mind through what Phantom was offering. To be able to fix things, maybe not go back to the way they used to be (Damian might actually kill him if he ever wore Robin again) but to have Bruce back. It wasn’t even a question.

No matter how smart Tim was, how he tried to plan things in advance the way Bruce did, he never stopped being the lonely kid who would sneak out at night to shadow his heroes. When Phantom reached out to offer a hand, Tim didn’t hesitate.

“You’re wrong, though.”

Phantom blinked, firmly gripping Tim’s hand without hurting him. “About what?”

“I wouldn’t be saving Batman on my own. We’d be doing it together.”

A fanged grin matched his own, blinding him to the swirling green portal that formed around them. Before Tim could so much as wonder if he maybe should’ve messaged someone about what he was setting off to do, they were already gone.

— - —

This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got a bit long so I decided to split it up.

I really love this au, but I noticed that everyone has a tendency to hone in on the angst so much that the characters behind it get a bit lost in the process. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I wanted to try my hand at writing the misunderstandings without making either of them at fault.

(Insert rant about how the whole point of soulmates is that this person is a match for you, so even if you fundamentally are not good for each other you still get where the other person is coming from. There's so much more angst potential in not being able to hate someone no matter what they do to hurt you, but I digress.)

But yeah, let the boys heal and be happy! Also this is the closest I've gotten to actually writing romance and that's not saying much XD

Here's the design I drew for Phantom Thief!Danny. Feel free to drop an ask, I'd love to ramble more about this :D

[ofaatuu]

Similar, Tonowari x Poly!reader x Ronal

(not my gif!)

part 1 here, part 2 here !

warnings: none 👍🏽 maybe a little angst

Bold / blue words are spoken in Navi!

summary: you meet the Tsahik and Olo'ekytan of the metkayina clan and have similar features. They found you interesting and watch you from afar.

(Reminder this is Polynesian and polyamorous!)

taglist for similar! @zoexme @ellabellabus07 @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @manumanulau @belos-simp69 @ratchetprime211 @tojisleftarm @sakuuo

You land in the reef clan and jump into the sand, but today you are in your Avatar. You still have all your tattoos and such. But it feels so weird. You haven’t entered your avatar in awhile. You walk to jake’s marui, bouncing a little on the walkway

You enter and greet them “Hi Jake! Hi Neytiri! Hi kids!” You greet them and sit down “Hey y/n, I can’t believe you’re in your avatar! It’s been years.” Jake says surprised. You nod, you just didn’t want to feel small compared to them anymore. “Yup..You know I can’t stay in it for too long, so don’t get used to it!” You say trying to remind him this isn’t permanent . “I still think you should at least try. You’ll be like me and get a Navi partner! But hey atleast you fit in with them! You still have your tattoos.” He pokes at your arm and leg as you scoff “No Jake, I can’t atleast try, they need to fix software or something.” You hear someone enter the Marui and feel eyes burning into your head, you then hear a familiar hiss “Who is this?” You hear Ronal hiss at Jake as he explains who i am.

You turn around to face them and see their face soften for a bit then tightens. “Ronal it’s me. Y/n” she gasps “Sky demon?” She reaches up to touch your Navi features. “But you are Navi?” She looks at you with widen eyes then turns around to tonowari who is already looking at her. They speak through their eyes and say goodbye. You turn around and look at Jake and Neytiri. “Can I just crash here tonight?” You don’t want to go back to lab because they would be pestering you with questions. “Yes. but you reek. You must go to the pond and rinse off. I will get a tweng from the Tsahik.” Neytiri says laughs as you roll your eyes and follow her out.

You reach the pond and strip from your t-shirt and shorts and dive in. You sit there waiting for Neytiri to bring your so called tweng for you to change into.

after your shower you hear some rustling in the bushes and out comes Ronal and Tonowari. “Oh..” you cover yourself and your cheeks flush in dark blue. You then reach out for the tweng and stand up “thank you.. I am going to change now.” They nod but do not move. Well thats new. You end up just moving backwards a bit and changing, you never leaving their site. “Thank you for the clothing.” You sign the I see you and start walking away but tonowari grabs your hand and whispers close to your face, “Come to our marui with your belongings. You are sleeping in our marui.” He looks at you tense. A shiver runs down your spine and you hesitate to answer but you just nod. Rushing you enter Jakes marui and tell him everything. “Holy shit! Do you think they like you? I mean they always had their eye on you but I thought it was because you’re human!” He rambled off as you hurry to grab your shit. “I don’t even know jake, but I trust them.” You say goodbye and walk towards the marui. Tonowari comes out from behind you and slips an arm around your waist. “come.” He says. “I will bring you to our home.” You walk with him tense as fuck because his damn buff ass arm is around your waist. You walk in and see Ronal and smile nervously. She smiles and pats the sleeping mat. “Come. We welcome you.” They seat you down and also give you very pretty Navi jewelry. Isn’t this a way of courting? I’ll ask Jake or norm. Right now I just need to focus on what’s happening in front of me..

god I fell. Hard.

[jakeshands]

teeth

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: if you had known that talking to sunghoon at a club would lead to watching him kill the people you love, would you still talk to him?

genre: thriller (?), strangers to lovers

featuring: enhypen, yunjin, sakura, and chaewon of lsfm, yeonjun of txt, winter of aespa.

warnings: death. lots of death, murder scenes that arent graphic but still descriptive, lots of mentions of blood, attempted sexual assault, mentions of sexual assault, physical abuse, mentions of stalking, sunghoon and all of enhypen are literally murderers so… profanity, toxic relationship lol, sunghoon possessive as hell he’s crazy, sunghoon punches yeonjun a couple times, mentions of a knife. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 18.5k

author’s note, jakehands comeback and its with an 18k psychotic murderer sunghoon fic. blame enhypen’s concept film and daphne. this is heavily unedited so please ugnore any mistakes idk if i can be bothered to read through this. also PLEASE read the warnings. please im begging you. also i call winter by her real name “minjeong” in thjs fic because…actually idk why. i just wrote it like that. u will also see many cameos of other idols that arent included in the featured and the reason for that is bcs the featured people are more Important and have dialouge! anyway. enjoy😍 and Read The Warnings.

You weren’t a frequent partygoer. You often preferred staying at home and watching whatever videos popped up on your Youtube Recommended. You usually watch Youtube video after Youtube video before you end up passing out with your phone reaching the 20% battery warning. You found comfort in the familiarity of your Youtube algorithm. But going to clubs? That was a whole other side of the world you didn’t want to touch.

How unfortunate it was, for you, to have a friend like Huh Yunjin. She was everything you weren’t; popular, friendly, a social butterfly, and a total partygoer -- if there was a party nearby, Yunjin was there. She loved parties, she loved alcohol, and she loved making out with girls and boys. Yunjin also enjoyed dragging you to said parties.

So, there you were. Standing in a club with Yunjin to your left and a girl named Sakura to your right. You had only met her a couple of minutes ago, but you were already enjoying her company. She had big eyes, kind of like the cat you had when you were younger. Her smile was extremely pretty so it was no wonder Yunjin always tried her hardest to make Sakura smile.

Sakura was in her last year of college. Soon, thanks to Jessica Day, she’ll have a teaching degree. Sakura was fun to talk to, and Yunjin made sure to include you in any conversation she had with a new face, but you still felt awkward and out of place in a club full of drunk college students clearly having the time of their lives.

“Didn’t you hear?” Sakura exclaims next to you. She was talking to Kim Chaewon. You know of her -- softball captain, an SM Town model, and she moves through guys quicker than you expected.

“Hear what?”

“They found Jaehyun’s body,” Sakura says.

You find yourself more interested in Sakura and Chaewon’s conversation than the one Yunjin was trying to insert you in with another one of her friends named Somi. Jaehyun was the soccer team’s captain for your college. He was also in his final year, and he was getting ready to lead the soccer team to victory at the upcoming championship in a few months. Last week, Jaeyun went missing.

“They found his body?” Chaewon gasps. “Where?”

“Down by the lake,” Sakura responds.

Chaewon gasps again. This eggs Sakura on, her voice dropping and you strain to hear the words she says over the loud booming music filling the club. “He was stabbed twenty-one times,” is all you could hear Sakura say.

You stand straight and push yourself away from the wall you were leaning against. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell Yunjin, ducking to whisper it into her ear.

“Oh!” Her untoned blonde hair shifts as she faces you, “do you want me to come with? It’s probably better if I come with --”

“I’ll be okay.”

Yunjin narrows her eyes. “Are you sure? You do know about the recent murders, right?”

You give Yunjin a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Yunjin purses her lips. “Call me if you get into any trouble, okay?”

You roll your eyes and back away from Yunjin and her little group of friends. “Okay, mom.”

You push your way through the crowded dance floor to reach the other side of the club. Yunjin was telling you all about this club on the ride over. It was a popular club, usually filled up to its maximum capacity fifteen minutes after the club’s doors opened. You could attest to that statement as the line you saw when you arrived at the club was already pretty long.

Since the club was a popular hotspot for young adults, every face you saw was a familiar face. People like Choi Yeonjun and Hwang Hyunjin, two of the most popular dancers on your campus, had taken over the dance floor. Girls and guys flocked to the pair of them like magnets and as you watched them move effortlessly on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were exhausted.

Then, in the corner of the club, tucked away in a booth with cocktails in hand, sat Yuna and Lia, their eyes peering out into the crowded club and giggling as they conversed with each other in between taking sips of their drinks. They were clearly gossiping as their eyes focused on Mark Lee flirting with Choi Yena.

You duck into the hallway leading you to the bathroom. Here, it was less crowded and the music sounded further away. You could finally hear yourself breathe, and you could hear your footsteps. Pushing open the door to the female’s bathroom, you’re met with the sight of a small line beginning to form.

You smile at the girls in front of you and take your place beside them, resting on the wall beside the hand dryer. Fishing out your phone, you text Yunjin to let her know you reached the bathroom safely, before switching over to Candy Crush.

You’re able to get to a stall in no time, and as you exit the stall, feeling a bit lighter, you’re shoved to the side as a girl with her hand covering her mouth and her friends all rush into the stall. The sound of retching echoes around the bathroom. You step up to the sink and wash your hands when someone nudges your shoulder.

“Here,” Bae Sumin hands you her mascara. She’s friends with Yunjin, that’s how you know her. “You should probably retouch your mascara. Have you been wiping your eyes?”

You look in the mirror. Your mascara was slightly smudged and you smile at Sumin. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

Sumin smiles. “Girls help girls.”

You hand Sumin back her mascara after touching up your eyelashes and you exit the bathroom, adjusting the length of your black cocktail dress so it covers more of your thighs when you bump into something hard.

You squeak and stumble back, raising your head to see a person standing in front of you. His eyes are dark and his face is hardened. Not a single emotion escapes from the male figure in front of you and your stomach drops. There’s a sinister aura clouding him and your heartbeat quickens. “S-sorry,” you stutter meekly, your eyes dropping to your feet.

“It’s okay,” his voice is warm. It contrasts his appearance; icy face, black clothes, and eyes that raise goosebumps. “You should look where you’re going next time. Especially in a club like this.”

You glance up and smile at the male in front of you. “I’ll remember that.”

“I should probably apologize as well,” the male says after some thought, “I’m in a bit of a rush so I didn’t see you. So, sorry, are you okay?”

Instead of your heart dropping to your gut, it begins to flutter.

Your cheeks redden. “Oh. I’m okay. Seriously. And you don’t need to apologize!”

There’s a whisper of a smile on the male’s face. “Alright. Enjoy the rest of your night, and stay safe.”

Your eyes follow the male as he rushes past you. “You too!” You call out, your heart racing.

After gaining no response, you compose yourself and step back out into the club. Everything is the same as it was before; Lia and Yuna gossiping in the corner, Mark flirting with Yena, and Yeonjun and Hyunjin owning the dance floor.

Yunjin makes eye contact with you as you approach the small space Yunjin and her friends occupy against the wall of the club. She beams as you and all the nervousness and awkwardness filling your body float away. Maybe going to clubs and partying wasn’t so bad.

—-

You groan and let your head drop onto the desk beneath you. The first lecture of the day just ended and even though you thought you were prepared for the course, this upcoming assignment proves how wrong you were. You would never be prepared for any of the assignments your creative writing class has.

Standing, you exit the classroom with your ears still ringing. After Yunjin had pulled you onto the dance floor, you found yourself dancing alongside Yeonjun. You allowed the older to put his hands on your hips as he guided you through the songs playing in the club and you found yourself having fun -- a lot more fun than you usually would have curled up on your bed watching Youtube video after Youtube video. As you think back to last night, you also remember the way your skin crawled with the feeling of someone watching you, but when you looked over your shoulder, you couldn’t see anyone.

Shuddering, you step into the sun and begin your brisk walk over to the cafe where you regularly meet up with Yunjin after lectures. It was probably nothing. Since you were having so much fun last night, maybe your brain had decided to try and drag you back down into the pits of distaste and regret of entering unknown territory.

Entering the cafe, you smile at the barista and join Yunjin at your usual table. She was hunched over a piece of paper in front of you, her eyebrows drawn together. “Why are you staring at the paper like that?” You ask, digging around in your shoulder bag.

“I’m writing lyrics,” Yunjin replies.

“With your mind?”

“I wish,” Yunjin groans, leaning back on the chair.

You giggle and power up your laptop. At the same time, the cafe door jingles open and a breeze rushes through the room. Someone laughs loudly and your attention is drawn to the group of boys entering the cafe.

Yunjin’s eyes widen and she sits straight in her chair. “No way. They come to this cafe too?”

You realize who the group of boys were -- Lee Heeseung, Park Jay, Sim Jake, and Park Sunghoon. They’re part of a larger group of seven. Often, whenever you mentioned the university you were attending to outsiders, immediately they thought of that group of seven. If your university was mentioned, seven names would be mentioned after.

You don’t know much about the group. They keep to themselves and never mingle outside of their small social circle. You don’t really see them around campus that much, but you are aware of how all of them excel in academics. You’re aware that Sim Jake is on the soccer team. You’re aware Lee Heeseung is on the ice hockey team, and you’re aware Park Sunghoon was a former figure skater.

Park Sunghoon.

Your eyes pass over the taller male and a realization strikes you. His handsome face; his cold aura; his silver hair and full lips -- you bumped into him at the club. You shrink in your seat and hang your head, muttering profanity.

Your cheeks flush when you think of his warm voice, and the gentle look in his eyes when he apologized. The contrasting nature of Sunghoon surprises you. You never thought someone with such a cold face would have such a warm voice -- a warm heart.

“Yunjin,” you lean across the table, your voice quiet. “I bumped into Sunghoon last night. In the club.”

Yunjin’s jaw drops. “You did?! Why didn’t you tell me? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Did he try to murder you?”

“Huh?” You were confused. “Why would he want to murder me?”

“You haven’t heard the rumors?” Yunjin asks.

“Jen, I only come to campus for my lectures,” you remind her.

“Right. Anyway, there’s a rumor going around that Sunghoon’s the one doing all the murders. People think he’s some kind of psychopath.”

You raise your eyebrows and glance over at the group of four. Jake and Sunghoon are grinning as they tease Jay who stands between them. “Psychopath?”

“Sunghoon was apparently seen with Jaehyun before he was reported missing,” Yunjin explains. “And apparently someone saw Sunghoon washing blood off his hands in a public bathroom a couple of nights back.”

You hum and sit back in your chair. “I don’t think it was Sunghoon. He apologized to me last night even though I bumped into him.”

Yunjin purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. You glance back over at the four boys and you immediately make eye contact with the topic of your conversation. Park Sunghoon’s staring back at you, his face is stoic, and your heart tremors. You attempt a hesitant smile and Sunghoon’s the first to look away.

—-

A week later you end up outside an unfamiliar house. Beside you, Yunjin is talking to a girl named Kazuha and you’re left alone to look up at the mansion-like house in front of you. People are still swarming in and out of the house and you begin to feel claustrophobic even though you haven’t entered the house.

“Jay’s house,” a voice says behind you. Turning around, you smile at Ryujin. Lia and Yeji are standing behind Ryujin, bickering with Seungmin and Hyunjin but you pay them no mind. “The first party he’s thrown in a month. His parents banned parties in their family vacation house because of the last party. His parents are out of town for the next month, though, so Jay’s going to throw all the parties he can.”

“This is their vacation home? Why do they need a vacation home in Seoul even though they live in Seoul?” You gaze back at the house in amazement.

“Rich people,” Ryujin responds. “Filthy rich.”

Yunjin reaches out and grabs your forearm. She exchanges a few words with Ryujin and then you’re being pulled into the house. It was loud and overcrowded and everywhere you looked there was alcohol. Yunjin has to practically shout to talk to you, and the flashing party lights force you to squint as you look at the person talking to you.

Sakura was by your side once more and Chaewon was also there. Chaewon greets you with a smile and immediately launches back into her conversation with Sakura. With help from Sakura, you ease into their conversation and Yunjin shoves a plastic cup of some strong alcohol into your hand. You’ve only taken a sip and the bitter taste that spilled down your throat was an uncomfortable taste.

“Jaehyun’s death has been ruled a homicide,” Sakura was saying, deeply interested in Jaehyun’s case. “The police don’t have any leads, though, so it’s basically a cold case.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” You ask Sakura.

Sakura smiles and taps her ears. “I hear everything. I’m easy to miss in a room.”

“She’s like a mouse,” Chaewon giggles.

“A mouse draws attention,” you point out. “No one likes mice.”

“I’m a fly on the wall, then,” Sakura cuts in. “Whatever I am, I’m a professional eavesdropper and gossiper.”

“Yunjin was telling me about the Park Sunghoon rumor,” you decide to test the waters. Surely Sakura and Chaewon know more about these rumors than Yunjin. “Is he really a psychopath? Did he really kill Jaehyun?”

“Park Sunghoon,” Chaewon says, rolling her eyes. “I grew up with him.”

“He is a very cold person,” Sakura muses, sipping whatever was in her plastic cup.

“Sunghoon was an odd boy,” Chaewon continues. “I don’t think he has emotions. Or empathy. His sister broke her ankle and he forced her to walk home.”

“Really?” You gasp. Maybe, Park Sunghoon was a cold person with a cold heart.

“Even some of the lecturers are afraid of him,” Sakura says, her tone all-knowing. “That’s why he easily passes hard classes -- they’re all too afraid to fail him.”

“Sunghoon liked killing things when he was younger,” Chaewon says, scowling. “I caught him stabbing a large rat and then opening up that rat.” Chaewon shudders. “The look on his face when he caught me still haunts me to this day.”

“Sunghoon also has a temper,” Sakura adds, “I’ve heard from people he’s done group projects with, that he threatened them all if they didn’t do his part of the project for him.”

You begin to feel queasy. The Park Sunghoon you’re hearing about from the people around you isn’t the Park Sunghoon you encountered all those nights ago. The Park Sunghoon you encountered was warm. He has a warm voice, and his apology was warm.

You down the rest of the alcohol in your plastic cup even though you don’t like the taste. “I need to pee,” you excuse yourself from Chaewon and Sakura and begin walking aimlessly. It would be nice if you were able to find a bathroom, but this house seems to be endless -- everywhere you walk, there are people dancing and kissing. Everywhere you walk, there is alcohol and familiar faces.

Eventually, you find some stairs and make your way up to the second floor. You pad down the hallway, the music still present but a lot more muffled. Aimlessly, you twist and turn through the maze of a hallway and eventually end up in an empty hallway.

Leaning against the wall behind you, you hang your head in your hands. All you can think about is the way Sunghoon’s eyes slightly softened when he apologized to you, and the gentle way he spoke to you when he apologized. You felt like you were going insane.

You hear quick footsteps approaching your empty hallway and you stiffen, your heart racing beneath your ribs. A familiar face rounds the corner and your face softens into a smile. Lee Jaeho was in your sociology class. He was kind to you, and always helped you study for the upcoming exams.

Jaeho seemed to be a bit dazed though. He wasn’t walking straight and when he saw you, a bright smile broke out across his face. His words slur together when he greets you and pulls you into a hug, and you know he’s off his face drunk.

“I was looking for you!” Jaeho slurs as he pulls out of the hug, still gripping to your shoulders. “I was told you were in the bathroom but I couldn’t find you! I got so worried, Y/N.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a gentle smile.

“It’s okay,” Jaeho grips your hand in his and pulls you down the hallway.

“Where are we going, Jaeho?”

“We need some privacy.”

Your heart races. “Oh. Why?”

Jaeho pulls open a door and pushes you inside. The door closes and Jaeho rests his back against the door. Your hands sweat and you rub them against your skirt. “Jaeho?” You ask, unsure. “Why are we in a room?”

“Y/N,” Jaeho sounds sure of himself, even if he’s slurring his words. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we first talked in Freshman year.”

“Oh,” you feel speechless, “thank you for telling me, Jaeho.”

“You like me back, don’t you?”

“Oh,” you feel taken aback.

“I see the way you look at me.” Jaeho takes a step closer and you take a step back.

“What way do I look at you, Jaeho?”

Jaeho smiles but it’s a different smile. The smell of alcohol invades the room and your breath hitches. “You look at me like you want me, Y/N. I want you to.”

The back of your knees hit the bed behind you and you fall back onto the bed. Jaeho hovers over you and you feel helpless. “Jaeho,” you don’t know what to say. “I don’t like you like that. I think you’re a nice friend --”

“Don’t fucking say that shit,” Jaeho growls. Within a few seconds, his whole demeanor changes and your helplessness turns into fear. He pushes you further back onto the bed and climbs on top. Instantly, your fight or flight response kicks in.

You squirm about on the bed as Jaeho tries to keep you still. Your legs kick up and you shake your head from side to side. “Let go of me, Jaeho,” you beg, your eyes burning.

“Stop moving,” Jaeho hisses, his hands squeezing your arms tightly.

You cry out. “Jaeho --”

One of Jaeho’s hands curls around your throat and you can’t breathe. You attempt to gasp for air but it's pointless. Your legs still kick and your free hand tries to pull Jaeho’s hand away from your throat. Your eyes burn and tears begin to trail down the side of your face.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” Jaeho groans.

Jaeho loosens his hand from restricting your right hand to the bed and you take this second of freedom to slap Jaeho across the face. Since he’s drunk, his motor movement is unbalanced. His grip loosens around your throat in shock and you use both of your hands to push Jaeho away.

You scramble off the bed and race over to the door.

“Y/N --” Jaeho calls your name. He grabs your wrist as you go to tug open the door.

“Let go of me,” you hiss, anger overtaking the fear.

“Y/N -- I’m sorry -- I --” Jaeho stumbles over his apology, the alcohol influencing his words and actions.

Turning back around, you see red and backhand Jaeho across the face. His head turns sharply to the side and his cheek begins to bleed -- the rings on your fingers must’ve cut into his skin from how hard you backhanded him.

Jaeho turns to look at you and fear replaces the anger you were feeling previously. With a racing heart, you tug open the door and race down the hallway, Jaeho calling your name as he follows you out. Tears stream down your face as you try to find your way back to the party. Maybe you should’ve asked Yunjin to take you to the bathroom.

Impulsively, you open a door leading to another room and dive inside, shutting the door behind you. You slump against the wall beside the door and cover your mouth with your hand as Jaeho goes charging past the room. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you can’t stop the tears.

You don’t know how long you spend in the dark room, your hand pressed to your mouth to muffle your whimpers, when the door opens suddenly. Your hand falls away from your mouth and you whimper as you fall away from the wall.

The silence is loud and you slowly look up, hoping who you see isn’t Jaeho but Yunjin.

Park Sunghoon stands above you, frowning. “Y/N?”

Your hands cover your face as you break out into sobs. Relief floods your body. You’re glad that it wasn’t Jaeho who opened that door, but Sunghoon -- who is perceived as a psychopathic murderer and you should probably feel even more afraid, but you don’t. Because facing a suspected murderer is better than being assaulted at the hands of a friend.

Hands gently pull your own away from your face. A finger tilts your chin up and you’re looking at Sunghoon again. He’s crouching in front of you, his eyes soft. His thumbs press against your cheeks and brush away the tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel warm in Sunghoon’s presence.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says your name again. “What happened?” His voice is light. It’s not like Jaeho’s tough and demanding tone.

You only shake your head and cry some more in response. You can still feel the phantom squeeze of Jaeho’s hands on your throat.

The fingers curled around your chin tighten ever so slightly. “Y/N,” Sunghoon’s voice is deeper and a bit demanding -- like Jaeho’s voice moments before, but you don’t feel scared, you still feel safe. “Tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply and focus on Sunghoon’s face. His eyes are no longer soft, instead, they’re the familiar darkness you saw when you first met him. His lips are screwed into a straight line. His face is cold, but his hands and his heart are warm. “Jaeho,” you whisper. “He --” gently, your hand brushes against your neck. “He strangled me.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. His hands slip away from your face and he rises to his feet. “Your friends are worried about you, Y/N. Let’s go back to the party.” You take his outstretched hand and stand. You wipe away the last of your tears and follow Sunghoon out of the room.

“Did Jaeho do anything else?” Sunghoon asks. You have to quicken your pace to keep up with Sunghoon’s long strides. He easily moves through the house which reminds you that he’s friends with the owner of this house.

You don’t say anything in response to Sunghoon. Should you tell him or not? Would he believe you or not? Would he excuse Jaeho’s actions by saying he was drunk and drunk people don’t know what they’re doing?

“Y/N,” Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts. “I asked you a question.”

“He didn’t do anything else,” you say quietly.

Sunghoon huffs and grips your shoulders, forcing you to stop walking. The two of you stand in the middle of the dark hallway, Sunghoon’s face close to yours as he bends down to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Why do you care so much?” You retort, curiosity finally appearing through the fear you felt. Why did Sunghoon care so much about you? And what Jaeho did to you? You don’t even know Sunghoon. You just know he attends your college and hangs out with six other boys. (You also know about the rumors, but you don’t care for them because Sunghoon’s shown he’s not the psychopathic murderer the rumors say he is.)

“Because no man should ever lay his hands on a woman,” was Sunghoon’s response. “So, I’ll ask you again. Did Jaeho do anything else?”

Sunghoon’s eyes shine with intent -- he meant what he said. You find some kind of relief looking into Sunghoon’s eyes, you would have someone on your side. “Jaeho, he -- he said he liked me, and then he --” you break off your sentence and shrug. You can’t seem to force the bitter words out of your mouth. He almost forced me to have sex with him.

“I understand,” Sunghoon says in response. He turns away, but you catch his hand.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” You ask Sunghoon.

“Do you want me to?”

You shake your head. “Please don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell my friends. Can you keep this between us? Please?” Your eyes are wide as you beg Sunghoon, and you grip his hand tightly. You really don’t want anyone finding out about what happened between you and Jaeho.

Sunghoon smiles softly. “I’ll take it to my grave, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Sunghoon,” you sigh in relief.

“There’s no need to thank me yet, Y/N,” Sunghoon hums. “Which Jaeho are we talking about, by the way?”

“Lee Jaeho,” you descend the stairs leading to the party with Sunghoon. The music sounds louder than it was before. “He was in our Freshman sociology class.”

“I hated that class,” Sunghoon grumbles.

You giggle and Sunghoon’s eyes light up.

—-

The morning after, you exit your lecture with your phone buzzing away in your pocket. Jaeho had been trying to contact you all day, and now that it was late afternoon, you were beginning to grow tired of his spam messages.

Scowling, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. Jaeho’s messages fill up your lock screen and as you scroll through all his messages to try and find a worthwhile notification, the glare of the sun fades away.

“Y/N.”

Looking up, Sunghoon is standing in the way of the sun beaming down on you. “Sunghoon,” you were surprised to find the male outside your lecture. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” Sunghoon responds easily. “Where are you going now?”

“To the cafe on campus. I usually meet up with Yunjin there after all our lectures are finished,” you explain to Sunghoon as he falls into step beside you.

“I’ll walk you there,” Sunghoon says, smiling softly.

Your heart flutters.

“Has Jaeho tried to talk to you?” Sunghoon asks.

Your smile is tight. “He’s been messaging me all day. It’s getting annoying.”

“Will you hear him out?”

“Fuck no. I’ll never forgive him for what he did, even if he was drunk.”

“Being drunk is no excuse, Y/N,” Sunghoon says.

You hum. “Yeah. How do you even know who I am, anyway?” You look at Sunghoon eagerly, the curiosity within you brimming. Ever since Sunghoon uttered your name last night, you had been curious -- how did Sunghoon know who you were? And why did he care this badly about you? It wasn’t like you were in the same circle as him. You’ve been holed up in your dorm for most of your college life, and the one time you go out to party, you somehow get involved with Park Sunghoon.

Sunghoon laughs like you just asked him an incredibly bizarre question. “Y/N, we had classes together freshman year. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember!” You splutter, your cheeks heating up. “I didn’t expect you to remember.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “You’re not easy to forget, Y/N.”

It’s like you forget how to function. You’re not easy to forget. Who just says that? You can’t breathe and you can’t feel your heart beating. Your fingers feel numb and your stomach is an ocean of butterflies. And this is all because of Sunghoon. The so-called psychotic murderer.

“You can’t just say that, Sunghoon!” You exclaim, your cheeks heating up.

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s true. You were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen -- still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

(Sunghoon’s words were driving you crazy -- why? Because it’s been two years since your last relationship. Having someone talk about you like this is only furthering your growing infatuation with the taller, brooding boy.)

“I was always jealous whenever you talked to other guys.”

“Excuse me?” You were taken aback by this piece of news. Sunghoon was jealous? Back in freshman year?

“I wanted to be the one you talked to,” Sunghoon admits with ease. “I wanted all of your attention.”

You truly don’t know what to think. Sunghoon’s words are driving you crazy. There’s so much to take in. There’s so much to discover you probably won’t sleep at all tonight.

“Oh, we’re here,” Sunghoon doesn’t sound too happy. It’s a shame your heart feels the same way. You don’t want to leave Sunghoon’s side, but from the way Yunjin’s looking at you from inside the cafe, you won’t be allowed to ditch this hangout.

“Thank you for walking me, Sunghoon,” you say. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise. Do you have my number?”

Seriously. Sunghoon never fails to surprise you.

“No.”

“Do you want my number?”

You pull out your phone in lieu of a response.

“Text or call me if you see Jaeho,” Sunghoon says, waving goodbye after you exchange numbers. “I’ll answer right away.”

You snort and Sunghoon frowns. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

You hate how his words warm you.

“See you around, Sunghoon.”

“Definitely,” Sunghoon grins and you step into the cafe, exhaling deeply.

—-

An alumnus of your university was found dead in the alleyway beside your dorm building. His name was Taeyong. You remember him as the senior that always vaped during his lectures. He was a nice guy, though, always ready to help out anyone who asked for help.

You can’t help but shiver every time you pass by the crime scene all taped up with yellow tape hindering anyone from entering the scene. It’s been a few days since Sunghoon walked you to the cafe -- that was also the day Taeyon was killed. His time of death was put at around 11:30 PM. His death has also been ruled as a homicide.

You’ve been texting Sunghoon often. Most of the texts are short and dry, but seeing Sunghoon’s text notifications amidst all of Jaeho’s makes your heart leap in excitement. Anything to do with Sunghoon sends your heart into overdrive after his smooth talking a couple of days back.

Other than Sunghoon’s texts brightening your day, you’ve been on edge walking back to your dorm in the late hours of the evening. You can’t help but feel like someone’s watching you walk back to your dorm. Your spine always tingles and your heartbeat is loud in your ears as you walk home. You don’t listen to music anymore, opting to stay alert in case you’re the next victim of whoever is killing the students who attend your university.

“You’re still talking to Sunghoon?” Yunjin asks, peering over your shoulder as you text Sunghoon while you were both at the cafe.

“Yep.”

“He’s a murderer, Y/N.”

You snort and glance at Yunjin. “It’s rumored he’s a murderer. I don’t understand why anyone would listen to what comes out of Minjeong’s mouth anyway. She’s always talking bullshit.”

“Y/N…” Yunjin sighs.

“I know,” you reply softly. “But I’m fine. Seriously. Sunghoon treats me nicely. You don’t have to be so afraid, Jen. I know you mean well, but can’t you trust me?”

“Fine,” Yunjin scowls. “But just so you know, I have an ‘I told you so’ ready.”

You grin. “Of course you do. I should probably get going, my shift starts soon.” You rise from your sit and wave goodbye to Yunjin as you exit the cafe. You work at a nearby convenience store, the owner of the convenience store was quite nice so you didn’t mind working there, but the shifts you got were sometimes not ideal.

Today, you had the five to ten shift. When you got there, you exchanged a few words with your coworker that was leaving and then you begin to serve the customers entering the store. Slowly, the amount of customers entering the exiting the store dies down and you begin to pass the time by playing games on your phone.

You’re so focused on the game you’re playing that you don't hear the familiar bell jingling to alert you to a new customer, nor do you hear voices loudly discussing what they wanted to buy. You curse under your breath as you fail the Candy Crush level once more, and someone clears their throat.

The familiar faces of Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all stare at you as a blush quickly rises to your cheeks. “Oh. Hi! Sorry about that,” you push your phone out of view and begin to scan their items. “Would you like a bag?”

“Sure,” Jay says.

It’s awkward as you scan their items.

“You’re Y/N, right?” Jay finally breaks the silence.

“Yeah.” You don’t know why your heart begins to race.

“Why are you involving yourself with Sunghoon?”

“Pardon?” You glance up at Jay, frowning.

“You’re aware of the rumors, right?” Jay asks with a shrug, “I just don’t know why you would hang around Sunghoon.”

You snort. “I think I should be the one asking you that. You’re his friends, after all.”

“Brothers,” Jake pipes up. “We’re brothers. We grew up together.”

“Oh,” you smile at Jake. “That’s cute.”

“Look,” Jay says, bringing your attention back to him. “All I’m saying is that you should be careful, Y/N.”

You ignore Jay and read out the total showing on your screen. “Are you trying to say there’s some truth to those rumors?” You ask as Jay searches for his wallet.

Jay looks at you for a long time. You begin to feel uneasy and your stomach swoops. With the way Jay’s looking at you, there must be some kind of truth to the rumors swirling about. Maybe Sunghoon is a murderer. Maybe you’re his next victim.

You try to play off the unease you feel. “Whatever. I’m my own person, I can make my own assumptions about people. I don’t appreciate people telling me who I should and shouldn’t talk to, or hang out with. Would you like your receipt?”

“Sure,” Jay holds his hand out. “Keep the change, though. I don’t need it.”

“Sure, whatever.” You hate how easily Jay got underneath your skin.

“Look, Y/N, just be careful, okay?” Jay says gently. “You have Sunghoon’s number, right?”

You nod your head.

“Don’t be afraid to call it. See you around.” Jay nods his head at you and turns around, leaving the store with Jake. Heeseung hangs back and turns to you, smiling lightly. “Could I have the change? Jay may not need it, but I do.”

“Sure,” you hand Heeseung the change.

“Jay means well,” Heeseung says, pocketing the change. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“I guess that’s understandable.”

“And, seriously, don’t hesitate to call Sunghoon when you need to escape a…sticky situation.” You watch as Heeseung’s face lights up while he talks and you feel as though you’re being left out of an inside joke.

“Heeseung,” Jake calls out, poking his head into the convenience store. “C’mon, we have things to do.”

“See you, Y/N.” Heeseung salutes you goodbye before exiting the store, leaving you all alone.

The three boys leave you alone with your thoughts for the rest of your shift. Your shift rushes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re exiting the convenience store into the windy night. Shuddering, you tug your coat closer and begin your walk back to your dorm.

Pulling out your phone, you shoot Yunjin a text to let her know you’re on your way home. After pocketing your phone, a hand reaches out and clamps over your mouth before pulling you into a nearby alley. Your shrieks are muffled by the hand and your arms are restrained as you’re pulled further into the alley.

You’re thrown onto the ground, your knees scraping the ground harshly, and your palms begin to sting. Huffing, you push your hair out of your face and look up to see Jaeho standing over you. Your eyes widen in fear and you struggle to stand. Your legs feel numb and your heart is racing at an incredible pace it makes you feel lightheaded.

“Jaeho?”

“Y/N,” Jaeho doesn’t sound happy. The tone of his voice sets you on edge and you immediately begin to search for a way out. “Why haven’t you been responding to me?”

You look back at Jaeho. “You pulled me into an alley to ask that?”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N,” Jaeho threatens. “If you scream no one will hear you.” He takes a step forward and you take a step back, hitting the cold brick wall.

“You’re a piece of shit, Jaeho, that’s why I wasn’t responding.”

Jaeho slaps you across the face. It stings and you take a deep, shuddering breath. Your hands curl into fists and you try to keep your emotions under control.

“How many more times do you want me to say sorry, Y/N? I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking straight -- I didn’t mean what I did that night. Why are you acting like such a bitch about it? You know you can reject me, right? I’m not going to make a big deal about it.”

“I’ve already rejected you, Jaeho,” you spit. “I did it the night you almost tried to have sex with me, and I’ve been doing it for the past few days by not responding to you. God, can’t you take the hint? I’m not interested. You’re so stupid.”

Jaeho takes a step back and holds up his hands. “I obviously don’t remember you rejecting me while I was drunk. But, thank you for finally giving me a clear rejection. Now, I’ll apologize once more. Sorry, Y/N. Can we be friends again?”

“Why the fuck would I want to be friends with a rapist and an abuser, Jaeho?”

“You fucking bitch --”

“Get away from me!” You shriek, using all your strength to push Jaeho back. He stumbles over the trash bags sitting behind him and there’s a loud whacking sound as his head makes contact with the edge of the large garbage container. Jaeho slumps to the ground, not moving.

You’re suspended in time. You stare at Jaeho’s lifeless body. Something weird simmers in your stomach and you contemplate turning and leaving Jaeho to rot away in this alley. A car backfiring sends the world spinning and you snap out of your daze.

“Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Jaeho?” You rush over to Jaeho and reach out to shake him. He flops around lifelessly. “This is so not funny, Jaeho. Fuck. Wake up!” After a minute of trying to shake Jaeho awake, you sit back on your heels and bury your head in your hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You repeat over and over.

Your hands shake as you pull out your phone. You open up Yunjin’s contact information but gnaw on your bottom lip as your finger hovers over the call button. You look back at Jaeho lying lifelessly in front of you, the side of his head bleeding profusely before you exit Yunjin’s contact and click on Sunghoon’s.

It only rings once.

“Y/N?”

“Oh my god. Sunghoon. I -- I need your help.”

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“Sunghoon, I think I just -- oh my god.”

“Y/N. Where are you?”

You break out into loud sobs. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear, Sunghoon. I swear.”

“Y/N --”

“I’m down some alley,” you say between your sobs. “I don’t know where I am. Jaeho dragged me here.”

Sunghoon swears and you hear muffled voices. “Stay where you are, I’ll find you.” The call ends and you’re left alone with Jaeho’s lifeless body. You try to muffle your sobs and steady the beating of your heart but it doesn’t work as images of Jaeho hitting his head against the metal garbage container replay over and over.

“Y/N.” A voice shouts down the alleyway some minutes later. Then you hear footsteps rapidly hitting the ground and slowly, Sunghoon comes into view. “Y/N,” he says again, this time in relief.

Sunghoon pulls you up and cups your face gently. He wipes away your tears again and smooths out your hair. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His rapid questions and the warm concern in his eyes make your head hurt. You just want to be in your dorm already, tucked beneath your blankets next to Yunjn.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“What? Kill who?” Sunghoon’s hands grip your face tighter and he pulls you close. His whole demeanor changes after hearing your previous words.

“Behind you.”

Sunghoon turns and finally sees Jaeho’s body -- except, you see him sitting up. You gasp and break free from Sunghoon, crouching down beside Jaeho. He blinks a couple of times and glances around his surroundings as though he was trying to remember how he got here.

“Jaeho,” you cry out. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to --”

Jaeho grabs your wrist tightly, a vicious sneer carved on his face. “You slut. Are you trying to kill me? Why would you fucking push me like that? You’re not getting away with this, Y/N.”

“No -- Jaeho -- I --”

“Y/N. Move away.”

Looking over your shoulder, you see Sunghoon staring down at both of you with a cold expression. A metal pipe dangles in his right hand.

“Sunghoon?”

“Move away,” he repeats, now looking at Jaeho.

You move to the side, Jaeho’s hand easily slipping away from your wrist.

“When did you get here?” Jaeho’s sneer falls off his face as Sunghoon corners him against the garbage container. Jaeho’s eyes flit over to you. “Did the fucking bitch call you? Of course she did. Y/N starts arguments she can’t finish because she’s pathetic. All bark no bite.”

Sunghoon crouches down in front of Jaeho and presses his fingers against the cut on the side of his head. Jaeho flinches. Pulling his fingers away, they’re covered in blood, and the smile that spreads across Sunghoon’s face chills you to the bone.

Slowly, Sunghoon licks Jaeho’s blood off his fingers. You can’t look away.

“What the fuck, man?” Jaeho exclaims.

Rising to his feet, the smile slips from Sunghoon’s face. He raises the metal pipe in his right hand and swings it through the air, whacking Jaeho in the head with it. The boy cries out and sprawls across the concrete, his hands coming up to clutch the side of his face.

Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He swings the metal pole through the air and hits Jaeho again. And again. This time, with two hands. Jaeho can’t defend himself as Sunghoon hits him in the head with the pole over and over again. You can’t move, your hands covering your mouth as you watch blood splatter the concrete beneath Jaeho, the brick wall beside him, the garbage container behind him, and Sunghoon in front of him.

Sunghoon stops once Jaeho is no longer whimpering in pain. The bloody metal pole drops to the ground and Sunghoon turns around, brushing his hair away from his face. There’s a bloodlust look on his face that uproots your body and you begin to move away from Sunghoon as he steps forward.

“Get the fuck away from me,” you warn shakily.

Sunghoon doesn’t listen and he continues to walk closer.

“I’m serious, Sunghoon. Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Do what, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks.

“I’m not in the mood for this. You just fucking murdered Jaeho.”

“He was going to die anyway,” Sunghoon shrugs.

“What the fuck,” you whisper. “You’re crazy.”

Sunghoon grins in response and you open your mouth to scream. In a matter of seconds Sunghoon has you pushed back up against the brick wall, a hand over mouth while his other arm is lightly pressed against your throat.

“Are you fucking dumb, Y/N?” Sunghoon hisses. “Why the fuck would you scream? You do know this is now considered a crime scene, right? If you scream, you’ll attract attention, and I don’t think you want attention right now considering you watched me beat Jaeho to death.”

Reality finally sinks in for you. “Oh my god,” you say. “You killed Jaeho and I -- I watched. Oh my god. I didn’t stop you. Oh my god.” Your head spins and everything feels woozy. Your knees give out but Sunghoon is there to catch you.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Sunghoon demands. “Let me make a call. And then, I’m going to walk you back to your dorm. You’ll take a shower, eat something, and maybe drink something, and then you’ll go to bed, okay? Let me handle Jaeho. I’ll come for you when everything has been handled. Do not call or text me, okay?”

You don’t say anything. You still feel like you’re floating.

Sunghoon’s hands squish your cheeks as he shakes your head from side to side. “Y/N. Say something. I need to know you understand me.”

“Yes.” You blurt. “Okay. I understand.”

Sunghoon smiles gently and you don’t understand how he could smile like that after ruthlessly murdering someone. You feel Sunghoon kiss your forehead. “You did a good job, okay?” Sunghoon pulls away from you and helps you to the ground, letting you draw your knees to your chest. “You should always call me before you call anyone else, okay? I’ll always be there to help you.”

You nod your head.

Sunghoon tsks. “Repeat after me, Y/N. You’ll call me before you call anyone else.”

“I’ll call you before I call anyone else,” you repeat in a small voice.

Sunghoon smiles, his hand running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” He stands and walks away, and you bury your head into your arms.

—-

Be normal is what Sunghoon whispered to you two days ago before he allowed you to enter your dorm. You needed to act normal and that’s what you did. You made sure to engage with Yunjin and politely talk to any of her friends who hung out with the both of you during the two days after you watched Sunghoon murder Jaeho.

You haven’t seen Sunghoon in two days, nor have you contacted him. You’ve seen his younger friends around campus but you don’t have the confidence to approach them.

You’re having nightmares now. Jaeho is always present and you always wake up sweating. You haven’t gotten much sleep so you move through your school days zombie-like. The nightmare is always the same scenario; Jaeho’s chasing after you. He corners you in an alley and he beats you to death with the exact metal pole Sunghoon used on him.

News of Jaeho’s disappearance spread quickly across campus. His friends were the last to see him -- he had walked out of his apartment without telling them where he was going. At any mention of Jaeho, you freeze up. You can’t help it.

The doors to your lecture theater swing open and you’re drawn back to the present. The headmaster of your university, who you’ve only seen a few times, enters the lecture hall flanked by two policemen. A ripple of whispers runs through the lecture hall and your heart begins to beat quicker.

“Is L/N Y/N here today?”

All eyes turn to you and you shrink into your seat.

“Miss. Y/N would you please come with us? We have a few questions to ask,” one of the police officers addresses you. You pack up your things and slide out of your seat. Everyone is watching you as you walk over to the headmaster and the two policemen. You already know what this will be about.

There’s a brisk silent walk over to an empty lab. The headmaster exchanges a few words with the two policemen before he leaves you alone in their company. Your head is bowed as you sit at one of the tables, a microscope beside you and a petri dish in front of you.

“L/N Y/N?” One of the policemen asks.

You raise your head. “That’s me.”

“I’m Officer Kim and this is Officer Jeong. We have a few questions for you regarding the disappearance of Lee Jaeho.”

You nod your head.

“First, I’ll ask you an easy question. What was Jaeho to you? A friend?”

You open your mouth but struggle to answer. Was Jaeho a friend? You think back to the night at the party when he lay his hands on you without your consent. He lost the privilege to be called a friend the moment he climbed on top of you -- but, he was drunk and he had apologized to you numerous times. Doesn’t that restore the title of friendship?

“Yeah, we were friends,” you agree softly.

It’s silent as Officer Jeong notes some things down. “We managed to retrieve Jaeho’s phone,” Officer Kim says, pulling out a sealed bag containing Jaeho’s phone. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes widen. They found his phone?

“His phone?” You question.

Officer Kim nods his head. “We found it discarded on the roadside. Obviously, it’s been smashed, but we were able to retrieve the chip.” Officer Kim eyes you. “Do you know what I’m about to ask you?”

You don’t respond. Your hands curl into fists beneath the table and your nails dig into your palms.

“Why had Jaeho been texting you frequently up until his death? And why weren’t you responding?”

“That’s a private matter.”

Officer Kim smiles. “Private or not, we need to know.”

“I don’t think you need to know.” You don’t want to admit the truth. You don’t want to tell the police that Jaeho had assaulted you. Admitting it to Sunghoon was terrifying enough but to officers of the law?

“Can I be frank, Y/N?”

“Sure.”

“You’re a prime suspect in this investigation. I think you might want to tell us everything you know, otherwise you may end up being convicted for something you didn’t do.”

You lower your head and stare at the tabletop. Your fingernails dig deeper into your palm. “I wasn’t responding because he assaulted me.” You were scared to look at the police officers. You were scared to see what their expressions were. “He assaulted me and he was texting me apologies but I was ignoring him because I didn’t want to forgive him.”

It’s silent and you slowly look up. Officer Kim gives you a gentle smile. “Thank you for telling us, Y/N.”

Officer Jeong writes something down and you nod your head. “I have another question for you,” you watch Officer Kim place a sheet of paper on the table. On the paper, is a printed-out screenshot of an Instagram DM.

“Park Sunghoon sent Jaeho a threatening message on Instagram two days before his death. Park Sunghoon mentioned you by name, telling Jaeho to stay away from you or he will do something he won’t regret. Did you know about this?”

You stare at the piece of paper and read Sunghoon’s message to Jaeho. Something swirls around in your stomach and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “No,” you respond. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Do you have any idea as to why Park Sunghoon would send that message?”

“He found me,” you say, swallowing thickly, “after Jaeho assaulted me. I told him what happened. I didn’t expect him to send Jaeho that message, he’s just a bit….” you think back to the night Jaeho was murdered. Sunghoon didn’t hesitate to pick up your call, he found you in a matter of minutes, and he promised to take care of everything for you. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Officer Kim slides the piece of paper away and clears his throat. “Earlier, we interrogated Park Sunghoon as he is the suspect at the top of our list. We were able to confiscate his phone for a few hours and we found that you had called him on the night of Jaeho’s disappearance at 10:10 for two minutes. Jaeho’s roommates told us Jaeho left the apartment at ten o’clock. Ten minutes before you made the call.”

“I did call him.”

“Why?”

You have two choices -- do you tell the truth, or do you lie? Do you blame Sunghoon for Jaeho’s murder, or do you allow the blame to fall on someone else? Do you throw Sunghoon to the pack of wolves, or do you live in misery and guilt for the rest of your life?

“I called him because he usually walks me home at night,” you tell Officer Kim. “I work at a convenience store and my shift ends at ten. Ever since Jaeho assaulted me I have been scared to walk alone in the dark. Sunghoon offered to walk me home after each of my shifts.”

“Okay,” Officer Kim nods his head. “Your shift ends at ten, but you called him at ten past.”

“I was waiting for him. I can’t walk home alone in the dark anymore, I get scared and sometimes have panic attacks. I don’t care how long I waited for Sunghoon, I was just happy he eventually showed up after I called him.”

“Okay,” Officer Kim smiles once more. “Thank you. One last question. How would you describe your relationship with Park Sunghoon?”

You’re not sure what that has to do with the investigation, but you answer anyway. “It’s…Complicated.”

“Alright. Thank you for your time, Y/N.”

“No problem. Can I go?”

“Yes, you can. We’ll be in touch.” Officer Kim waves you goodbye. You gladly grab your bag and leave the classroom, exhaling in relief as you shut the door behind you.

“They got you too, huh?”

You snap your head to the side. “Sunghoon!”

The silver-haired boy grins and beckons you over to him. “Hello, Y/N, long time no see?”

You scowl. “Fuck you, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon grabs your hand. “Let’s go somewhere private, Y/N. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Yeah,” you snort, “especially about how you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”

Sunghoon grins at you from over your shoulder. You feel unsettled but you allow Sunghoon to drag you across campus. You thought you would be more angry seeing him, but instead you feel oddly comforted -- and that terrifies you.

—-

Sunghoon takes you to his apartment. It’s flash like you expected, and Jake is lying on the couch in the living room when you enter. The television is blaring loudly as Jake watches some crime documentary on a channel you’ve never heard of.

“Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?” Sunghoon asks.

“No. I want to talk about what happened with Jaeho,” you hiss, glancing at Jake who was fully absorbed in the documentary.

“Don’t worry about Jake,” Sunghoon informs you, pulling out a can of coca cola from the fridge. “He’s also killed some people. He helped me with Jaeho, in fact.”

You stare at Sunghoon, and then at Jake. “What -- what the fuck.”

“I kill people, Jake kills people, Jay kills people -- we all kill people,” Sunghoon says bluntly.

You don’t know what to say. You stare at Sunghoon, your bag dropping to the floor and your heart pounds in your chest. “Why -- why are you telling me this? What if I go to the police?”

Sunghoon laughs, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You won’t tell anyone, Y/N.”

“But what if I do?”

Sunghoon smirks. “Then I’ll have to kill you. And I don’t want to kill you, Y/N, you’re too pretty to be killed.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m disgusting and yet you’re standing in my apartment.”

You scowl at Sunghoon.

“How did the interrogation go? What did Kim ask you?”

“He asked me about Jaeho,” you reply, “I had to tell him about Jaeho assaulting me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sunghoon says gently.

“No you’re not,” you retort. “You’re a psychopath, you don’t feel things.”

Sunghoon hums. “That’s true, Y/N, but I feel things for you.”

“I also lied,” you tell Sunghoon. “They asked me why I called you and I lied. Happy?”

Sunghoon beams. “Very.” He reaches out to pat your cheek. “You’re a very good girl, Y/N.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, hating the way your heart leaps at Sunghoon’s words.

“So,” Sunghoon gestures for you to take a seat at the dining table. “Do you have any questions?”

“How much time do you have?”

“For you? As much time as you want,” Sunghoon replies.

You scowl. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon laughs and sips his drink. “So?”

“Fine. How did you know where I was?”

“Easy. I’ve been following you home most nights, but I couldn’t that night because I was having a group meeting. Since I knew the path you take home, I was able to find you easily.”

You gape at Sunghoon. “You’ve been stalking me?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound good.”

“Why have you been stalking me?”

“I was following you because I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Sunghoon replies smoothly.

“Oh. Okay.” You know you should be throwing a fit and telling Sunghoon that stalking you was wrong, but the way Sunghoon smoothly admitted to stalking you, made your chest feel warm. You don’t know how to describe it, but the idea of knowing Sunghoon was keeping you safe did something to you.

Sunghoon raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t say anything.

“Why did you kill Jaeho? Why are you a murderer? What the fuck is happening? Are you the one doing all the killings?”

“I killed Jaeho because he deserved it, Y/N,” Sunghoon says. “He shouldn’t be walking around without consequences for his actions.”

You eye Sunghoon as he talks, and a thrill runs up your spine. You don’t know how to describe your emotions. You don’t know how to describe the fire that’s burning in the pit of your stomach. The way Sunghoon is speaking -- the way his eyes look -- it’s all so thrilling. A pretty face with a twisted mind. Something within you keens to know more. The idea that Sunghoon is willing to kill for you does something.

“Killing Jaehyun was easy,” Sunghoon grins. It’s a maniacal grin. You shift in your seat and edge closer. “He was indebted to Heeseung. Couldn’t repay Heeseung, so we killed him.”

“Just like that?” You ask, your heart thumping wildly.

Sunghoon smiles at you. It’s softer and he tilts his head, “just like that, sweetheart.”

“You killed Taeyong, too?”

Sunghoon’s smile reveals his teeth. His tongue licks his teeth and he calls out to Jake, who pokes his head over the back of the couch, his honey-blonde hair falling over his face. “You killed Taeyong?”

Jake’s grin is ecstatic. His eyes light up and he nods his head like how a dog wags their tail. “Hell yeah, dude! You should’ve been there, it was so fucking satisfying. Seeing him slump to the ground?” Jake presses a hand to his cheek and sighs. “I’d do it all over again.” Jake falls away from the back of the couch, tuning back into the documentary and you turn back to Sunghoon.

“You’re all fucking crazy,” you exclaim, astonished and breathless.

“Fucking crazy and doing what everyone else is afraid to.” Sunghoon reaches out and plays with the strings of your hoodie. You edge closer to Sunghoon and stare at him, all the anger you felt for a few minutes had evaporated. You felt a weird sense of comfort and longing. It made you feel sick, but the longing overpowered it. Sunghoon killed Jaeho for you. He followed you home to keep you safe. No one’s done that before and any sane or rational person would fear for their life and beg the police to keep them safe but you -- you want to know how far Sunghoon will go.

“So. No other reason for killing Jaeho? And for stalking me? And giving me your number?”

Sunghoon hums, his index finger brushing your chin as he wraps the string around his finger. “Well, I guess there is another reason.”

“Which is?”

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes dark and your gut drops to your feet. “I love you, Y/N,” his voice was deep and you feel goosebumps rise across your skin.

“You don’t know me, Sunghoon.”

“Do I have to know you to love you?”

You draw away from Sunghoon, the string unraveling from around his finger. “You’re crazy.”

Sunghoon chuckles and leans back in his chair, pushing a hand through his hair. “I know. That’s all you’ve said in the past five minutes. Do you have anything other than you’re crazy, to say?”

You stare at Sunghoon. You have many things to say, many sentences running through your mind. Where to begin? How do you say what you’re feeling? How do you admit to Sunghoon that you don’t mind him doing all this for you?

You grab Sunghoon by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. It doesn’t take long for Sunghoon to respond. His hands cup your face and he pulls you close, leaving you on the edge of your seat. You kiss him with everything in you. You give and Sunghoon takes. He stokes the fire burning within your stomach and you just want him to devour you. Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip, his tongue slipping past your lips, and pleasure rushes through your bloodstream. You want more of Sunghoon. More more more more more --

Your phone vibrates against the table. You leave it, but it keeps on vibrating and Sunghoon is the one to part. You chase Sunghoon’s lips, but he keeps you away, his thumb resting against your bottom lip. “You should answer that, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you say breathlessly. You reach for your phone, not taking your eyes off Sunghoon. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Yunjin cries, jolting you. Her sob rips loudly through the phone and Sunghoon gives you a questioning look. Behind you, Jake’s phone rings out and he groans, pausing the documentary to answer the phone. “Haechan’s dead, Y/N.”

—-

It’s been two long days since the death of Haechan. Yunjin was in the library when it happened, that’s why she called you sobbing. Haechan was only a couple of bookcases behind her when the murder occurred, and it really shook her up.

You had raced down to the campus library hot on Sunghoon and Jake’s heels. The phone call Jake had got at the same time as you was from Heeseung, who was, in fact, the one who killed Haechan. When you arrived at the crime scene, Heeseung was talking with Beomgyu and Jeongin, tightly huddled next to each other.

Yunjin threw herself into your arms and sobbed against your shoulder as you watched Sunghoon and Jake usher Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Jeonging away from the library.

You haven’t heard from Sunghoon since then and you feel like you’re going insane. Maybe kissing Sunghoon was the wrong idea, maybe you shouldn’t have kissed him, maybe if you told him how you were feeling, he wouldn’t be leaving you on delivered and never coming to class.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your dorm, brushing your hands against the black dress tightly hugging your features. You’re going out tonight with a goal in mind; Sunghoon. You need to see Sunghoon, you need to pick up where you left off two days ago.

“Yunjin,” you shake the girl lying in her bed asleep.

She groans and rolls over, rubbing her eyes. “Y/N?”

“Do you want to come to the party Minho’s throwing tonight? It’s some birthday bash for Changbin at some club. I’m hoping to see Sunghoon tonight, but I’m sure Sakura will be there, she’s friends with Minho, right?”

Yunjin stares at you for a very long time. “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?”

You stare at Yunjin, taken aback. “What?”

Yunjin scoffs and shakes her head. “I was literally almost murdered and all you care about is Sunghoon? You know, not once during the past two days did you check up on me, or offer a helping hand -- all you talked to me about was fucking Sunghoon. Some friend you are.” Yunjin rolls back over, her back facing you.

The silence in the room is loud. “I’ll bring you back some ice cream, Yunjin,” you say in a meek tone. She doesn’t respond, so you gently pad out of the dorm, shutting the door quietly behind you.

Walking out into the cool air, Yunjin’s words echo through your head. Had you really been that awful to her? When you think back to the past few days, all you can think about is Sunghoon, so maybe there was some truth to Yunjin’s words, maybe you were obsessed with Sunghoon at the moment, but surely you had offered comfort to Yunjin? She was your only friend, after all.

But, it’s whatever. If you somehow earn Sunghoon’s attention and buy ice cream tonight, then all the problems in your life will be solved.

The line in front of the club was already long. You didn’t mind the long wait because you kept yourself occupied with thoughts of Sunghoon. Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon. He was all you could think about. Flashes of deep brown eyes, flashes of silver (almost white) hair, and a pink mouth curved into a kissable smile. He was addictive.

Entering the club, you scan the crowd. It was dark so it was hard to make out faces, but you catch sight of familiar faces -- Soobin, Yeonjun, Yena, Yuri, Chaewon, Seungmin. But no Sunghoon. Cursing, you approach the bar and order a drink, your fingertips hitting the bartop in a rhythmic manner as you continue searching the club over and over.

Minutes pass by and still no sight of Sunghoon. You knock back your third drink of the night, your tongue licking up the last remnants of your drink when the crowd parts and Yeonjun approaches you, his hair now a deep blue.

“Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. “Nice seeing you here.”

“Yeonjun,” you smile back. “You too.”

“You look good tonight.”

“Really?” Looking over his shoulder, you finally see Sunghoon. He’s talking to Minjeong. Bitch.

“Really,” Yeonjun agrees. “Care for a dance? With me?”

You take Yeonjun’s waiting hand and he leads you to the dance floor, pushing his way into the middle where the music is the loudest. The loud club music mixes with the alcohol consuming your bloodstream and you lose all inhibitions. Yeonjun easily guides you through the rhythm of the music and his hands carefully wander across your body.

Yeonjun’s lips carefully ghost over the back of your neck. You melt into his arms and tilt your head to the side, his lips falling onto the side of your neck, artfully decorating them in little kisses and bites, his hands gripping your waist tighter as your dancing begins to turn sensual.

Your hand cups the back of Yeonjun’s neck and you turn your head, your heart in your throat. Yeonjun pulls you closer -- if that was even possible -- and his breath is hot on your lips and then you’re being pulled apart. You stumble into the dancers in front of you, who grumble in annoyance but you shrug them off and glance to see who pulled you and Yeonjun apart.

Sunghoon is towering over Yeonjun, his eyes dark and aura brooding. You notice his hands are curled into fists and before Yeonjun could say anything, Sunghoon is punching him. You watch Sunghoon punch Yeonjun a few times before you sink into the crowd surrounding the one-sided fight that was occurring -- you couldn’t bear to watch Sunghoon beat up Yeonjun, but you also know that Sunghoon will realize you’ve left and he’ll come for you.

You inhale deeply as you step out of the club. It’s 12 AM and the streets of Seoul are still alive. You walk aimlessly through the streets to get your thoughts and feelings under control. When you eventually confront Sunghoon, you want to be able to say what you want to say without stumbling over your words.

Sharply, you turn down an alleyway and walk until you reach the dead end, turning around, you place your hands on your hips and glare into the dark night. “Sunghoon, I know you’re there,” it’s silent for a few beats. “You fucking piece of shit,” you tag on belatedly.

Still nothing.

“What gives you the right to punch Yeonjun after ignoring me for two days? You don’t own me, Sunghoon. I can dance with whoever I want, and kiss whoever I want.”

Finally, you see Sunghoon’s figure appear at the end of the alley. He approaches you like how a lion stalks their prey, except you don't cower away. Sunghoon’s face is stoic, and his eyes are dark. His right hand is bloody but you don’t care, you only care about what Sunghoon will say to you.

“You can’t kiss Yeonjun,” Sunghoon answers gruffly.

“Why not?” You challenge.

Sunghoon grabs your face and kisses you in response. It’s a rough kiss, one which surprises you. You stumble into the cool brick wall behind you as Sunghoon cages you. Sunghoon’s kiss is demanding and it’s leaving you breathless as you attempt to keep up with his passion. His hands wander across your body -- over your butt and your breasts, his hands going where you want them to go. You whimper as Sunghoon bites harshly on your bottom lip, drawing blood that tastes metallic but you don’t care. You hook one leg around Sunghoon’s waist and push him closer to your body. You crave Sunghoon’s warmth.

Sunghoon draws away, and once again you’re left chasing his lips. “When you come to a club dressed like a slut, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, “guys will think they’re able to kiss what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours Sunghoon,” you whisper, letting Sunghoon’s thumb brush over your lip to wipe away the blood dripping down your chin. “We kissed once.”

“I also stalked you. And Killed Jaeho for you,” Sunghoon reminds, his tone firm.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you retort, “you just did it.”

Sunghoon laughs and it chills you to the bone. “But you liked me doing that. You liked the idea of me stalking you, and you liked watching me kill Jaeho.”

You can’t deny it. Sunghoon kisses you again, but it’s gentle. His thumbs brush your cheeks in a soothing rhythm. Sunghoon moves his lips across your face -- he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, and then he dips down to kiss your throat. Raising his face to look at you, his eyes are soft. “You’re mine, Y/N,” his voice is also softer like he’s trying to lull you into his warm embrace but he doesn’t need to try. You’re already aching for his warm embrace.

“Ask me,” you whisper, your voice trembling, “ask me to be yours. Ask me to be your girlfriend. Ask me to love you.”

Sunghoon kisses you again. He’s addicting.

“Be mine. Be my girlfriend, Y/N.”

You hum, smiling softly. “Will you take me out on dates?”

“If you want to, then I will.”

You pull Sunghoon in for a kiss. “Take me on dates and I’ll love you. It’s simple, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon traces your lips with a gentle finger. “Being mine has rules, Y/N,” he says in a low voice. “And if you break them, I’ll have to break you.”

Your pulse is loud in your ears. Anticipation hangs in the air. You want Sunghoon -- all of him. “I’ll follow them,” you promise Sunghoon.

“You don’t even know what they are, Y/N,” Sunghoon chuckles.

“I don’t have to know the rules to know I love you.”

Sunghoon kisses you desperately, your back digging painfully into the wall behind you, but you ignore the pain because Sunghoon’s warmth is overwhelming. “Rule number one,” Sunghoon pants out, his lips moving against yours. “You’re mine. Y/N.”

—-

Sunghoon’s presence has been overwhelming but it’s the good kind. All week you were around Sunghoon. Everywhere you went, Sunghoon was there. His rules were easy to follow -- when you see Sunghoon, you go to him, no matter if you’re with your friends. You can’t talk to any other men aside from Sunghoon and his friends. If you want to go out, you have to ask Sunghoon for permission, because Sunghoon has to know where you are, and when you’re dressing up to go out to a club, Sunghoon has to approve your outfit, and above all, you listen to Sunghoon. You listen to what he says and do what he asks, no questions asked.

If you were the sane, logical girl from last year, you would be searching for a way out of Sunghoon’s obsessive grip but now -- now you’re a girl who craves this kind of attention, who finds a thrill in knowing that you have all of Sunghoon’s attention for yourself. You find a thrill in knowing Sunghoon would do anything for you, and it should disgust you, but it doesn’t.

Sunghoon’s car rumbles gently beneath you. His hand grips your thigh possessively, the other lazily holding onto the steering wheel as he drives through Seoul. He was taking you on a date today, to a park to have a picnic.

“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon says, grinning as he pinches the hem of it.

You lay your hand over Sunghoon’s. “I wonder who picked it out.”

Sunghoon sneaks a look at you, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Perhaps you should give the person who picked it out a kiss.”

Giggling, you reach across the gap between you and Sunghoon and peck his cheek. “Thank you,” you say gently against his ear. Sunghoon’s hand squeezes your thigh tightly. You giggle again and slump against the seat, staring out the window again.

It’s a nice day. The sun is shining and there’s a gentle breeze in the air that keeps you feeling comfortable. Sunghoon takes your hand and leads you through the park to a secluded area. He tells you to stand there and look pretty as he lays out the picnic blanket and the basket full of food he had picked out for the both of you.

Sunghoon helps you out of your shoes, and then he helps you get comfortable on the blanket. He keeps you tucked between his legs and you relax against his chest, his arms circling your waist and keeping you warm. The breeze tickles your shoulder and you giggle softly, and then you feel Sunghoon drop a kiss on that same shoulder.

“Are you feeling hungry, Y/N?”

“A bit. What did you pack?”

Sunghoon shifts, keeping one arm circled around your waist while he reaches to pull the basket closer to him. “I brought some fruit,” Sunghoon pulls out a mandarin. “I’ll peel it for you,” Sunghoon’s mouth brushes your ear and you shiver.

You watch as Sunghoon’s hands deftly peel the mandarin for you. “Open your mouth,” Sunghoon says. He feeds you each mandarin piece and your heart swells. Sunghoon was a dream. He was your dream. He was your ideal man -- Sunghoon would kill for you, maybe even die for you. But he was also sweet, and loving, and caring.

“Tell me more about you,” Sunghoon says, his chin resting on your shoulder as you relax further into his embrace. “What’s your favorite color?” His fingers trace over your bare thigh. You ignore how it tickles.

“Pink. I like soft pink. Not bright pink, but a mellow, warm pink.”

“I hate pink,” Sunghoon says, sounding amused.

“I’ll make you love it.”

Sunghoon hums and kisses your shoulder. “I bet you will.”

“What about you?” You turn your head slightly to catch the side of Sunghoon’s face. “What’s your color?”

Sunghoon pulls away from your shoulder to look at you. He smiles. “I liked green, but these days I think I like the color of your eyes more.”

You blush and duck your head, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Sunghoon.”

He laughs heartily, his chest moving against your back. He kisses the top of your head. “Any siblings?”

You shake your head. “I’m an only child. What about you?”

“I have a younger sister,” Sunghoons says, though the tone of his voice wishes he didn’t.

Chaewon’s words from the party echo through your head. “Is it true you made your sister walk home with a broken ankle?”

Sunghoon scoffs. “She deserved it.” He doesn’t elaborate and you sit there in silence, letting his words simmer in the air. That should’ve been a sign for you to leave Sunghoon behind, go to the police and beg for a restraining order, or attempt to flee the country. But, you choose to sit between Sunghoon’s legs and intertwine your fingers with Sunghoon’s.

“And your parents? Are you close with them?” You ask Sunghoon.

“I cut them off as soon as I got to college,” Sunghoon admits bluntly. “What about you?” He brushes some stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“I’m close with them,” you murmur, playing with Sunghoon’s fingers. “They will probably want to meet you.”

“I’d love to meet them, then,” Sunghoon says, “after all, they created you.”

Your giggle floats through the air and Sunghoon manhandles you around to face him so he can kiss you intensely. You’re reeling from the sudden kiss, but soon you melt into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of Sunghoon warmly pressed against you.

Pulling away, you push your cheek against Sunghoon’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. Your legs are curled up as Sunghoon holds you close, playing with the ends of your hair. “Sunghoon?” You ask gently and he hums in response. “How did you -- why did you --” Sunghoon cuts you off to kiss you again. You let him kiss you for a while.

“That’s a story for another day, Y/N,” Sunghoon murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. “Let’s not ruin the mood of our date, yeah?”

You can only agree.

—-

You’re walking into a familiar club a couple of days later with Yunjin. Your eyes glance down at your phone once again, rereading Sunghoon’s texts. First, he approved of your outfit and complimented you so passionately you still blush as you read his message, and second, Sunghoon had told you he’d be arriving soon. Your stomach was on fire at just the thought of seeing Sunghoon again tonight, at a party.

Beside you, Yunjin looks at you before abandoning you in favor to seek out her friends. You let Yunjin go. She’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you never returned back to the dorm without the ice cream you promised her. You’ve also been blowing her off lately in favor to hang out with Sunghoon, but you could care less about Yunjin’s cold shoulder. You have Sunghoon to crawl back to at the end of the day, anyway.

You head for the bar and order a drink. You look out at the club, eyes trained on the entrance as you wait for Sunghoon. Minutes pass and the club continues to fill up. You keep checking your phone for a message from Sunghoon, but you still receive no text from him.

People pile up at the bar around you, and behind you, you hear a familiar, grating feminine voice. Shooting a side glance over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of curly black hair and smoky eyeshadow. Minjeong sat behind you with her posse, and her voice was loud enough for you to hear.

“Did you hear the rumor about Sunghoon?” One of Minjeong’s friends asks her.

“Which one? The one about him murdering Jaehyun, or the one about him being a freak?” Minjeong asks in her annoying snarky tone. You’ve never liked Minjeong, in fact, you’ve always had a rivalry with her ever since high school. You two were the top students in your high school and when Senior year came around, both of you were vying for valedictorian. In the end, you snatched the spot from her, and from then, Minjeong’s been obsessed with stealing everything from you -- even your ex-boyfriend.

“No, the one about his relationship with Y/N,” her friend clarifies. “People are saying he’s blackmailing her into being his girlfriend.”

Minjeong laughs loudly at that. “If anything, Y/N’s the one doing the blackmailing. She’s a pathetic freak. Though, Sunghoon’s more of a freak than her so it’s a perfect match!”

Her friends titter obnoxiously and you order another drink from the bar. Minjeong was beginning to get on your nerves for the thousandth time, except this time, you might end up doing something about it rather than being the one to take the high road.

“What did you mean when you called Sunghoon a freak?” Another one of Minjeong’s friends asks, her tone curious and it makes your blood boil. What right do Minjeong and her friends have talking about Sunghoon like that?

Minjeong snickers. “Didn’t you hear? Apparently, in Freshmen year, he was caught entering a girl’s dorm and stealing all her underwear. When the campus security went through his room, they found all sorts of panties and porn magazines. He’s a peeping tom, Jimin, a freak. I guess he and Y/N deserve each other.”

Slamming the glass holding your drink onto the bar, you turn in your chair and glare at Minjeong. All her friends freeze up at the sight of you, but Minjeong only smiles slyly. “If I were you, I would watch your fucking mouth, Minjeong,” you warn.

“All bark no bite,” Minjeong taunts.

All bark no bite. Jaeho said that before Sunghoon murdered him. Your blood boils. You hate that saying.

“Sunghoon’s a fucking freak and you know it, Y/N.”

Grabbing your drink, you pour the remainder of the alcohol over Minjeong’s head. She shrieks and her friends flinch away. “Say that again.” You grab Minjeong by the shirt. “Say it, Minjeong.”

Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rolling your eyes, you shove Minjeong off the barstool and she goes crashing to the ground. All her friends crowd around her, some shoot you dirty looks but you ignore them. Minjeong had it coming.

“Y/N.”

Turning around, you see Yeonjun standing there with a swollen nose and a black eye. Your eyes widen and you glance around the room searching for Sunghoon. Where was Sunghoon?

“Yeonjun, hi.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Yeonjun grabs your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip only tightens. “You need to get away from Sunghoon.”

“Yeonjun, what the fuck --”

“Y/N,” Yeonjun’s begging at this point. “You don’t deserve someone like him. He’s a psychopath, Y/N, you’re not safe with him.”

You scoff and finally tug your hand out of Yeonjun’s. “Thank you for the warning, Yeonjun, but I think I can make those kinds of decisions on my own.”

“Y/N, you aren’t listening. Sunghoon’s a fucking murderer--”

“Sunghoon!” You beam as you see the silver-haired male appear behind Yeonjun.

Yeonjun tenses up and turns slightly to see Sunghoon towering over him. Sunghoon doesn’t say anything as he brushes past Yeonjun and grips your wrist tightly, pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. You stumble over your feet in an attempt to catch up with Sunghoon’s fast pace and long legs.

“Sunghoon!” You call but he ignores you. Once he’s free from the club, he veers to the right sharply and shoves you up against the side of the club. You’re hidden away from the long line of people waiting to enter the club, the shadows protecting you from anyone who peers down this small alley in between two clubs.

“Why the fuck were you talking to Yeonjun, Y/N?” Sunghoon glares at you, his eyes fiery.

Your heart skips a beat and you reach for Sunghoon’s hand. “Sunghoon, I didn’t want to talk to him.”

“Don’t fucking lie, Y/N. I thought you understood my rules clearly. I specifically told you to not talk to Yeonjun.” Sunghoon was seething. You’ve never seen him this angry.

“Sunghoon,” you try to placate him. “He talked to me. I never want to disobey you, Sunghoon, you have to believe me. I don’t want to talk to Yeonjun but he came up to me and started a conversation with me.”

“Are you telling the truth, Y/N?”

You nod your head. “Of course, Sunghoon. You’re the only one I want.”

“Good girl,” Sunghoon breaks into a smile and cups your face with his hand, planting a kiss on your lips. “Head back into the club, I have something to take care of.”

“Okay,” you murmur, “be safe?”

“I always am,” Sunghoon kisses you again. “You look good tonight. It’s a shame I can’t be with you longer.”

“I’ll wear this dress for you another night, I promise,” you smile at Sunghoon, squeezing his hand.

“Alright. Text me when you’re leaving the club. And text me when you get home.”

“Of course.”

—-

Walking through campus, something rustles underfoot. Glancing down, you see Yeonjun’s missing poster beneath your foot. Choi Yeonjun has been missing for the past three days. You screw up the missing poster and dump it in the nearest trash can. They won’t ever find Yeonjun’s body, Jay made sure to dispose of it carefully.

Sunghoon had called you the next morning after Yeonjun attempted to ward you away from Sunghoon. It didn’t work, of course, because you loved Sunghoon and you wanted to be with him, psychopath or not. You and Sunghoon met up at a cafe on campus, he bought your breakfast for you and he explained why he had to leave you alone in the club.

Yeonjun’s death was all his fault. He had it coming.

After Sunghoon explained Yeonjun’s murder to you, you kissed him and said thank you. You knew you could always count on Sunghoon to protect you and keep you save from the people trying to interfere with your relationship.

Days passed after Sunghoon admitted to being the cause of Yeonjun’s disappearance. The hunt for Yeonjun is growing hopeless as each day passes and no one steps forward with any information regarding Yeonjun’s disappearance.

You’re working at the convenience store again. It’s a boring night but thankfully you only have an hour left. You flick through a magazine that was supposed to be on display in front of the counter but since there were no customers, you were passing time by snickering at the tabloid.

The door opens and the bell above it rings. Glancing up, you see Minjeong approaching you. You push the magazine to the side and wait for Minjeong to speak as she stands at the counter. Her eyes survey the gum sitting nearby, and she grabs a strawberry flavored packet.

“You should keep a leash on your boytoy, Y/N,” Minjeon says nonchalantly, flicking through the same magazine you were previously reading.

“I don’t need to listen to this shit from you.”

Minjeong hums. “I think you do. I saw him, a couple of nights back. The night you ruined my green dress at the club, remember?”

You smile. “I remember it fondly, Minjeong.”

“I think it was around three am? I saw your boyfriend fighting with Yeonjun. It didn’t look like a friendly fight, Sunghoon was kind of…scary,” Minjeong shrugs and your heart begins to slow down. “Eventually, Yeonjun got into Sunghoon’s car.” Minjeong places the magazine back on the rack and looks at you. “Kinda crazy, huh? That I saw Yeonjun hours before he was reported missing, and he was with your boyfriend.”

“Your total is three dollars.”

“Three dollars for a packet of gum?” Minjeong frowns.

You smile but it’s tight, unfriendly. “Capitalism, Minjeong.”

Minjeong hands you a five dollar note. “You know what’s even funnier?”

“What?”

“I saw Sunghoon later. I think it was 5 AM? I am a party girl, after all, and he was climbing out of his car alone.”

You give Minjeong back her change. “Have a good night, Minjeong.”

Minjeong tuts. “I’m not finished, Y/N. He was climbing out of the car covered in blood, Y/N. You know what that means, right? Your psychotic boyfriend murdered Yeonjun.”

You can hear the clock in the staff room ticking as you and Minjeong stand in silence. You don’t know what to do. You’re in shock. You can’t believe Sunghoon had been so irresponsible. You can’t let Sunghoon go to prison.

“Why haven’t you told the police yet?” You ask Minjeong.

Minjeong shrugs, tearing the plastic wrapping off the gum packeting. “I didn’t believe what I saw at first. And then when I did, I wanted to talk to you before I went to the police.”

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

“Because the police might question you, Y/N,” Minjeong pulls out some gum and offers the packet to you. You shake your head. “And I don’t know what your relationship with Sunghoon is like, but I know how hard it is to be in an abusive relationship and get questioned by the police. They’re ruthless.”

Finally, an out to this situation appears. You soften your eyes and fidget with your fingers, glancing away from Minjeong. “Oh.” You stare really hard at a packet of chips, not bothering to blink as your eyes begin to water.

“Y/N?” Minjeong asks softly.

“Minjeong. Can we -- can we not talk about this here? Can we meet somewhere privately?”

Minjeong nods her head. “Of course, Y/N.”

“And can you not tell anyone about us meeting up? I -- I don’t want Sunghoon to know and I don’t want you getting in trouble in case he finds out you know. .”

Minjeong nods eagerly. “Of course, Y/N. Where do you want to meet?”

“There’s an alleyway not far down. It’s across from the Chinese takeaway place. My shift ends at ten, so it’ll take me a few minutes to get there.”

Minjeong smiles gently. “I’ll wait for you, Y/N. Thank you for trusting me with whatever you’re about to tell me.”

You smile at Minjeong. “Of course.”

Minjeong bids you goodbye and when she’s out of sight, you dry your eyes and reach for your phone, firing a quick text to Sunghoon. He answers back immediately and you grin, placing your phone down and reaching for the magazine you shoved aside.

The remainder of your shift passes by slowly. Your nerves get the better of you and by the time Seungmin arrives to take over, you’re racing out of the store. Your pulse is loud in your ears as you approach the alleyway where you told Minjeong to meet you.

You see her standing down the alleyway, a little way from the enterance. The glare of her phone lights up her face. Clearly distracted, you duck down and pick a broken brick up from the ground, hiding it behind your back as you walk over to Minjeong.

“Y/N,” Minjeong smiles and turns off her phone, pocketing it. “How are you?”

“I could be better,” you respond, keeping up your innocent, scared appearance. “I just didn’t know what to do or who to tell,” you start, biting your lower lip nervously.

“It’s okay,” Minjeong reaches out to rub your arm. “You can tell me.”

“Sunghoon he…he told me he murdered Yeonjun,” you confess to Minjeong.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, Y/N.”

“I was terrified at first,” you continue, “but then after a while, I thanked Sunghoon for doing that.”

“What?” Minjeong frowns, confused. “You thanked Sunghoon for…murdering Yeonjun?”

You shrug. “Yeonjun had it coming.”

“Y/N, what the fuck --”

“Sorry, Minjeong, but you weren’t supposed to see Sunghoon with Yeonjun,” you give her a smile before you swing your hand holding the brick through the air and smack Minjeong on the side of her head with it. Minjeong sprawls to the ground, her temple bleeding.

You drop the brick and pull out your phone, calmly dialing Sunghoon’s number as you stare at Minjeong’s unconscious body. “I knocked out Minjeong,” you tell Sunghoon, “she saw you with Yeonjun the night you killed him.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He hangs up and in seconds he’s by your side, staring down at Minjeong’s body. “Do you want to finish what you started, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, picking up the brick, “or would you like me to finish?”

“You can finish. Do you want me to call Jake?”

“Yeah, tell him to get his ass down here with Jay and Heeseung and bring my car. He’ll know what to do.” Sunghoon hands you his phone and you turn away, not wanting to see Sunghoon bash Minjeong’s head with the brick.

Jake sounded eager as you talked to him on the phone. Fifteen minutes later, Jake appears with Jay and they jog down the alley. Sunghoon’s car is parked in front of the alley, blocking anyone from looking down the alley.

“Where’s the body?” Jay asks.

“Heeseung couldn’t make it,” Jake says as he, Sunghoon, and Jay crowd around Minjeong’s dead body. “He had to handle something with Beomgyu and Jeongin. Probably a drug deal gone wrong.”

“Of-fucking-course,” mutters Sunghoon. “Fucking stoners.” He glances over his shoulder. “Go wait in the car, Y/N. Jungwon will keep you company, and we’ll talk about this later, okay?”

You nod your head and walk down the alley, opening the car door and sliding into the backseat. Jungwon sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel as he glances out the tinted windows. “Hey, Jungwon,” you place your bag on the car floor and pull out your phone to play Candy Crush to pass the time.

“Hey. Killed Minjeong, huh?”

“Knocked her unconcious. Sunghoon killed her for me. She knew too much about Yeonjun’s disappearance. Came to me while I was working and confessed everything to me.”

Jungwon snorts. “Her first mistake. Why didn’t she go to the police first?”

“I think she was concerned for me,” you respond absentmindedly. “Thought I was in an abusive relationship with Sunghoon.” That gets a kick out of Jungwon and he laughs heartily.

“Little does she know,” Jungwon sighs after getting his laughter under control, “you and Sunghoon are a perfect match for each other.”

—-

Sliding into the passenger seat beside Sunghoon, he greets you with a kiss. It was the first day of spring break and Sunghoon was driving the both of you down to visit your parents. They were over the moon when you told them you had a boyfriend and told you they wanted to meet him over the break.

“They’ll love you,” you reassure Sunghoon as he pulls away from the curb.”You’ll definitely win them over.”

Sunghoon grins, his dimple peeking. “Everyone loves me, Y/N.”

“I love you more though,” you respond, sulking.

Sunghoon takes your hand and kisses the top of it. “I know you do, Y/N.”

“Oh!” You perk up, “Yunjin wont be rooming with me after the break. I’ll have the dorm to myself for the rest of the semester and then I’ll have to move out. Should we move in together during the summer break, Sunghoon?”

Earlier, before Sunghoon came to pick you up, Yunjin broke the news to you. You were expecting this, now that you think about it. Ever since you began dating Sunghoon, you and Yunjin grew apart. She didn’t approve of you dating Sunghoon, and you didn’t like her disapproval. What was so wrong about you dating Sunghoon? Yunjin often complained whenever you blew her off, but as it became more frequent she began to leave you alone in the dorm like at the beginning of the year when the both of you weren’t as close.

You didn’t care than Yunjin held a grudge against you for blowing her off and dating Sunghoon because, at the end of the day, you always had Sunghoon and you would chose Sunghoon over any of your friends any day.

“I like that idea. Should we move in together?”

You nod your head. “It would be so much fun living together, Sunghoon. Late nights, I can cook you dinner, and we can watch as many movies as we want! Maybe we could get a pet too!”

“A cat?” Sunghoon asks.

“Anything you want, Sunghoon,” you respond warmly. Sunghoon steals a kiss from you at the red light and you giggle, smiling bashfully and leaning forward to turn up the radio, the playlist Sunghoon made for the two of you playing.

The drive to your childhood home was only a couple of hours. Usually, the drive was boring since you had no one else to join you, but now that you had Sunghoon with you on the drive, he made it more fun. Cracking jokes and playing silly games with you, he left you breathless.

“Home sweet home,” you murmur as Sunghoon pulls up the driveway.

Sunghoon parks the car and pulls the keys out of the ignition. His hand cups your chin and guides your lips to his. He kisses you in his car, outside your house. “Cute house,” Sunghoon says after leaving you breathless. “I can imagine you growing up here.”

You blush. The front door of your house opens and your mother and father step onto the porch, waving happily when they see you. “Come on,” you reach out to pinch Sunghoon’s cheek, “let’s meet the parents!”

Climbing out of the car, you rush up the porch to hug your parents. “I missed you so much, darling,” you mother says, petting your hair.

“I missed you more, mom,” you respond, pulling her in for another hug.

“My baby girl,” your father says fondly, rubbing your cheek with the back of his hand. “How have you been?”

You beam and hug your father tightly. “I’ve been well. University has been so much fun. I miss your homecooked food, though.”

Your mother and father chuckle. “We’re glad you’re back home, darling. This break will be so much fun.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Sunghoon approach you and your parents. Your smile broadens and you tuck yourself into Sunghoon’s side, “this is my boyfriend, Park Sunghoon.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sunghoon says, shaking your father’s hand.

“You too, son,” your father says, “anyone who can make my daughter this happy is okay in my book.”

Sunghoon smiles, peeking down at you. “Seeing her happy makes me happy.”

Your father sends you a wink and you blush. Sunghoon takes your mother’s hand and kisses the back of her hand. “It’s a delight to meet you, Mrs. L/N, you created a wonderful daughter.”

Your mother’s laughter is light as it floats through the air. “Come on in, I’ll show you to your room and then you can unpack the car.”

Reaching for Sunghoon’s hand, you squeeze it gently as you step into your childhood home. Sunghoon squeeze your hand back, and when your parents weren’t looking, he sneaks a kiss on your temple. The love in your heart for Sunghoon swells tenfold.

After moving everything from Sunghoon’s car and into the house, your father takes Sunghoon away to tinker in the garage while you sit in the kitchen, watching your mother prepare dinner. “Remind me long you’ve been dating Sunghoon, sweetheart?” Your mother asks.

“Three weeks,” you respond.

“Oh. I didn’t know this was a new relationship. The way you spoke on the phone made it sound like you’ve been with him for a while.”

You shrug, peeling the shell of a pistachio. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Three weeks feels like three months with Sunghoon. I love him. And didn’t you tell me if you love someone, that’s more than enough?”

Your mother sighs, kneading out the dough. “I guess so. Just, be careful, Y/N, okay? I don’t want you to rush into a relationship and make a mistake that could cost your life.”

You giggle. “You don’t need to worry about me, mom, Sunghoon is the one for me.”

Your mother smiles at you from over her shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Your father enters the kitchen and kisses your mother’s cheek as he reaches for the fridge. “Sunghoon’s up in your room, Y/N, if you want to see him. We’ll call you down when dinner’s ready,” you father says. “I need some alone time with your mother.”

You dash out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your childhood room. You burst into the room and leap onto your bed, crushing Sunghoon. He groans and pushes you off him as you giggle, flopping back on the bed beside him. “How are you, Sunghoon?”

“I’m having fun. Your father is nice to talk to,” Sunghoon responds. “It’s making me miss my parents.”

You coo reach out to caress Sunghoon’s cheek. You throw your leg over Sunghoon’s waist and cuddle up to him, your hand falling down to rest on his chest. You close your eyes and begin to doze off, feeling relaxed and comfortable in Sunghoon’s embrace, but your boyfriend shakes you awake.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I have something for you.” He gently pulls you upright and turns to shift through his overnight bag. It doesn’t take long for him to procure a small jewelry box and you gasp softly as Sunghoon turns to you with a big grin on his face.

“I saw this at the jewelry store yesterday. Jake was shopping for his mom since her birthday is coming up. I saw this and thought of you.” He opens the box and you gasp, staring at the thin gold ring sitting between the cushions.

Sunghoon takes it out and you hold out your hand. “It’s a promise ring,” Sunghoon tells you softly. “You’re my forever, Y/N.”

“Oh, Sunghoon,” you admire the ring. It’s a small gold ring with a flower sitting in the middle. You don’t recognize the flower so you look at Sunghoon in question.

“It’s your birth flower, Y/N,” Sunghoon explains, pinching your chin playfully.

“Oh. I didn’t even know such a thing as birth flowers existed.”

Sunghoon laughs loudly and leans forward to kiss you. “Don’t worry, baby, I know everything about you.”

You laugh against his lips and draw him back in for a kiss. You spend the rest of your time with Sunghoon kissing him and admiring the ring in the golden sunlight until your father calls you both downstairs.

Dinner was enjoyable, though you could tell your parents felt a bit unsettled as you show them the promise ring Sunghoon got you, and how you both explained your plans to move in with each other next year. The unsettling feelings carries into the night when Sunghoon was up taking a shower and you were helping your parents clean up dinner.

“Y/N, honey,” your father starts softly. “Don’t you think you’re rushing this relationship?”

You glance up from where you were washing the dishes. “What? No? I love Sunghoon, and I want to be with him forever.”

Your parents share a look. “Y/N,” your mother says, “are you sure?”

“Why are you being like this?” You ask your parents, placing down the brush you were using to wash the dishes. “Shouldn’t you be excited for me? I finally have a boyfriend who loves me and cares for me.”

Your father nods. “We are, but it just feels like you’re going too fast. You’ve only been dating for three weeks, Y/N.”

“But I love him,” you insist. “I love Sunghoon. And you’ve always told me that when I love someone, I shouldn’t let them go.”

Your mother sighs heavily. “Alright. If you believe that you and Sunghoon will last, then we’ll back off.”

“But don’t say that we didn’t warn you,” your father adds.

You finish washing the dishes in silence. You don’t bid your parents goodnight as you walk up to your room, your mood sour. Sunghoon was already in bed, tucked beneath the covers as he scrolled through his phone, probably replying to the group chat he has with his friends.

“Hey,” you mutter, pulling out your pajamas.

“Hey,” Sunghoon responds, placing down his phone. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“No,” you respond tersely, changing out of your clothes and into your pajamas in front of Sunghoon. “My parents were being annoying.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you about it after I finish washing up.” You grab your toothbrush and face wash and dash over to the bathroom next to your room, not wanting to bump into your parents. After finishing washing up, you crawl into bed with Sungoon and curl up next to him.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” Sunghoon brushes a hand through your hair.

“My parents think we’re moving too fast,” you grumble. “They’re trying to tell me what to do in our relationship. It’s annoying.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sunghoon says gently. “Would you like me to talk to them?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, Sunghoon. Let’s just sleep. We’ll have them convinced that we aren’t rushing this relationship by the end of the week.”

Sunghoon kisses your forehead and helps you lie down before pulling you close against his chest. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

You didn’t get much sleep. You were standing in front of the milk at the nearby supermarket zoning out. After your mother asked you to get some milk, you began your slow, sleepy walk down to the nearest supermarket.

Sunghoon has been silent all morning and you hope what you told him last night didn’t ruin his mood for the rest of the trip. Finally snapping out of your daze, you grab the milk your mother asked for, approached the register and paid.

You took your time walking home, enjoying the fresh morning air. You begin to plan how to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon’s relationship wouldn’t crash and burn in a few years. So far, the plan you thought of wasn’t exactly going to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon were a forever couple, but as your unlock the front door, you realize that you don’t need your parents’ approval. It’s your life. Not theirs.

Putting the milk away, you realize how quiet the house is and a chill creeps up your spine. “Mom?” You call out, “dad?” There’s no response. “Sunghoon?” You search the first floor, but your parents were nowhere to be found. Climbing the stairs, you stay alert.

Sunghoon wasn’t in your room, and your parents weren’t in theirs either. You notice the bathroom door was shut and your heart begins to race. You hope that maybe your mother and father left to go on their morning walk and Sunghoon was taking a shower.

Pushing open the door to the bathroom you smell the metallic smell of blood before you see the scene in front of you. Your parents lay lifeless on the bathroom floor, their abdomen split open with the amount of stab wounds issued to their upper body. Blood is spilled across the floor, all over the cabinet and the white walls.

Sunghoon was on his knees, hovering over your father as he slashes at his chest a few more times. “Sunghoon,” you whimper, your knees almost giving out.

The knife he was holding drops to the floor. He looks up at you and you gasp once again. Blood covers his face, it drips down his cheeks and his chin. You watch as Sunghoon reaches up to wipe the blood of his face, but his hand was also bloody. He drags his bloody hand across his mouth, getting rid of no blood. It was futile for him to wipe his bloody hand across his mouth. His hand drops back down into the pool of blood surrounding Sunghoon and your knees finally give out.

You collapse, your hands splashing the blood pooling at the entrance of the bathroom. “Sunghoon,” you whisper. You can’t take your eyes off the lifeless bodies of your mom and dad. “What did you do?”

Sunghoon beckons you over. Your body automatically moves to Sunghoon, blood seeping into the fabric of your jeans. Sunghoon’s bloody hands come up to cup your face. The blood is cool against your face, but you don’t flinch away from Sunghoon.

He leans down and kisses you. All you can taste is the blood of your parents but you don’t push Sunghoon away. You sink into the embrace of his kiss as you’re overcome with emotion you can’t describe.

“I did this for you,” Sunghoon whispers, his bloody forehead touching yours.

“For me?” You whisper back.

“Everything I do is for you, Y/N,” Sunghoon kisses you again. You grip his bloody t-shirt tightly. You don’t care about your dead parents. A small part of your brain is happy they’re dead. Now, you won’t be subjected to their judgemental stares for the rest of spring break. “If I can’t have you, no one can, Y/N. I promise you that.”

“I love you, Sunghoon,” you whisper, finally embracing Sunghoon and all of his craziness. Sunghoon would kill for you. He’s proven himself over and over again. “You’ll only ever have me.”

“I know,” Sunghoon whispers back, his hand touching your hair.

“You’d do anything for me, Sunghoon?” You ask.

“Anything,” Sunghoon answers, his lips brushing over yours.

“Good,” you smile.

author’s note, hey…..that was. a lot. idk what overcame me when i wrote this tbh. i was possessed by the ghost of sunghoon in the concept film😊 anyway. i hope you enjoyed this fic! idk if i liked the pacing of it but. oh well. also i dont even think this fic had a plot?? it was just me writing while thinking of sunghoon😭 guys i promise one day i will post a Happy fic on tumblr with no death or murder or ambiguous endings🫶 anyways in case u wanted to know; sunghoon and y/n live happily ever after. idc if its inaccurate but sunghoon never gets caught murdering random people who touch y/n🤷‍♀️ anyways leave ur thoughts! i’d love to read them🩷

[woncherie]

i sat in my lecture and started daydreaming about scaramouche,, this is what came out. enjoy!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, alcohol drinking, nsfw under alcohol influence, small mention of drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail. (please tell me if I missed something)

wc: 2.2k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

You kneeled on the floor of the campus, hair and clothes wet with some fluid you couldnt specify yourself. it definitely wasn't water. you looked up the windows to the upper floors, seeing a familiar face looking down on you and your now wet books and clothing.

"oops. my mistake." you heard scaramouche yell down to you, his friends also peaking down the window and laughing histerically. obviously, it wasn't a mistake. and he wasn't sorry. he never was.

scaramouche was a fellow student of yours. he was popular, had good grades without even trying, was participating in multiple uni sports clubs and everyone loved him. everyone but you.

its not like you hated him from the beginning. you were indifferent about him, you only heared rumors about him the first year in uni, he was a complete stranger to you. but when he met you for the first time, scaramouche made it his personal goal to destroy you.

you hated him. you hated his ugly face, his annoying laugh, his irritating character, his whole bothersome being.

but why does he hate you? you never treated him wrong, hell, you barely even know him. he just started mistreating you one day without a warning, shoving you around, kicking your books through the hallways, destroying your property and forcing you to do his work.

the second the professor is mentioning a group project he is up your ass, smirking dangerously and making you do all the work. and dont even dare fucking up the project and ruining his grades. "im looking forward to good cooperation.~" was all he always said before never showing up to the projects again.

the bullying continues over a whole year, which made it really hard for you to find friends in the new semester. everyone knew that he has you on his watch, and everyone knows if you are friends with them, he's gonna be up their ass too.

you only found one friend, but he is the best. you didnt need more. he didnt care about the bullying or the "danger" of being close to you.

albedo always helped you with your projects when your very useful partner refused to do his share, which resulted in you always passing and sending in your project before the deadline.

even though the past semester ended some months ago and the new one started, scaramouche and his jerk ass friends didnt let you go (which you prayed for every other night.)

But you didnt want him to destroy your last year at college, you wanted fun, you wanted friends, you wanted a normal college life. you promised yourself to not let him get away with everything again, to fight back.

but somehow, you still sat on the concrete floor, a big puddle of whatever the fuck this fluid is right under you and your books. fuck.

you can't believe that everything is starting all over again. you promised yourself to fight back this time.

the semester just started a week ago, and things didnt change. it frustrated you to no end to just sit there defenseless, but what should you do? stepping up for yourself seemed so much easier in your head.

☆

"Are you coming to the party later tonight?" you heared albedo ask. he laid down on his stomach on your bed, tablet on your pillow, preparing the lectures for the next day.

you went home and skipped your lecture earlier today, showering and drying your hair. whatever scaramouche threw on you smelled like shit, and you didnt want it to stain your clothing.

"are YOU going?" you asked the blonde who seemed to be heads deep into his notes. "usually it's me who forces you to leave your home and meet a few new people.", you teased him.

uni started barely a week ago, therefore semester partys followed right behind. especially at the beginning, where most of the students aren't drowning too much in lab reports, protocols and exams yet.

"yeah, that's why I'm asking you. you didnt mention the party yet, which isn't like you at all."

You sat down next to your door at the plug socket, inserting the airdryer and drying your hair before answering. "The first few parties are the best ones. of course I'm going."

☆

you just arrived with albedo at the party and you two immediately got dragged to the beer pong table by a few friends of him that you barely knew. they usually tried to avoid your presence, but once they are shit ton of drunk, everyone of them becomes your friend as well. it was always like this. you didnt mind it, you were just happy that at least a few people were talking to you.

You enjoyed the first few hours at the party a lot, drinking and playing games, shotting drinks and dancing to the music.

of course, scaramouche and his friends were at the party too, drinking heavily, smoking weed and fighting around. but you didnt care. you ignored them all, immediately leaving the room when they appeared in your view.

You pulled albedos arm and pointed into the kitchen once they headed near you. "let's head there, sucrose and yanfei are there too."

he just nodded and followed you, trying his best to walk properly.

After you shared a few more drinks with your friends, the alcohol did start hitting you properly.

you tried your hardest to ignore scaramouche and his friend group who were partying hard in the living room of the house, standing in the kitchen with albedo and sucrose yourself. where even is he? you thought, not spotting him with the rest of his friends who were all shit ton of drunk, dancing or making out with poor girls from the lower semesters. how pitiful. they didnt know what will happen to them. dont fuck the bad guys, they will drain you mentally and destroy you, only to drop them afterwards like an used tissue.

not that you cared though. you are happy to not see scaramouche ugly face constantly in the crowd of people.

you didnt plan on letting him destroy your last year in college, you will NOT let him destroy you like last year. at least that's what your plan was. somehow he still succeeded in bullying you regularly in the first week of the new semester.

after shotting a few more drinks you lean to albedo who was sitting on your left side, speaking in his ear tipsily. "I need a bit fresh air, ill be going out for a few minutes."

it took albedo quite a few seconds to understand what you said, being more than just a bit woozy himself. "Yeah sure." he answered then.

you stood up and started walking down the hallway towards the door, dodging pissed drunk students left and right. a few of them recognized you, waved and nodded at you, which you always mimiced.

Once you left through the door and stood at the front yard, a cold breeze passed you and you immediately shivered. should've taken a jacket with me. you let your head fall back into your neck, closing your eyes and rubbing your arms to warm yourself up a bit, taking in deep breaths of fresh air. the house really started to smell sweaty and clammy, so the air really made you feel better right now.

Right when you started to enjoy the cold breeze, you hear someone chuckle behind you. "Wow, you really must like me, everywhere i go you are following me." you recognized his voice immediately, sighing slightly annoyed the second you heared him snicker behind you.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing scaramouche leaning against the house wall, a nearly completely smoked cig between his lips, and damn did you curse yourself for checking him out. you hoped he didnt notice.

"Fuck off, im not in the mood." you miffed, leaning your head back once again into your neck.

"The fuck you doing here? shouldnt you be studying in your little room for the next exams? you still have a few protocolls and lab reports of mine to prepare, too." he pushed himself of the wall that he leaned on, dropping the cigarette on the floor and stepping on it before making his way to you, grinning stupidly. You knew he was about to harrass you again.

you started to become mad. more than usual. you didnt know if it was the alcohol that made you more agressive, but you were done with him. you couldnt let him continuously step on you and your dignity, you needed to fight back to get rid of him.

before he even arrived next to you, you turned around and faced him, your hand landing on his face, grabbing it and pushing him against the wall he just walked away from, your hands squishing his cheeks and making his mouth open.

scaramouches eyes widened in shock, not expecting you to get violent, out of all people.

"I told you to fuck off right now, didnt i?" your face came closer to his, feeling your hot breath on his face. "im done playing your stupid games. find yourself another victim." Your nails started digging into his cheeks, making him whine out and moan in pain silently, his eyes never leaving your face, heart beating a bit faster than usual. he didnt even notice the small moan he let out until it was your turn to widen your eyes slightly.

"Did you just-?"

It took him a moment to realise what you were talking about. once he did though, his whole face started getting red, eyes wide in fear and awkwardness. this did not just happen. no way. he panicked, his brain not being able to form complete sentences and finding excuses.

"There is no way.." You started laughing slowly, but louder and louder by every passing second. "Scaramouche? You? A masochist?"

Scaramouche didnt know what to do other than shake his head in denial, eyes tearing up in embarrassment.

"Let go of me." he demanded, heart hammering against his chest, but you only continued laughing. "are you stupid? after all these months of you destroying my life, do you seriously believe im going to just let you go this easily? you fucking slut."

You pushed two of your fingers into his mouth and he couldnt help himself but suck on them obediently. fuck. that's it. he thought. he's done.

but he didnt care. he doesnt know if it was the alcohol and the drugs in his blood, but he leaned into your touch, enjoying the way you degraded him. he didnt even check if there are other people around on the front yard, he didnt care. he just needed your touch.

your own breath started speeding up too, enjoying the view in front of you even more than scaramouche does. "Not so bold now, are you?" you teased him, your left hand supporting your body weight on the wall, caging him in.

scaramouches way of answering was sucking hard on your fingers, swirling his tongue around the digits. your leg settled between his two, and he gave in, sliding down the wall until he sat on your thigh, hard dick pressing on it. you couldn't help but gasp, your grin growing bigger and bigger as he moved his hips on your leg.

"open up." you said after removing your fingers from his mouth, looking at him demandingly. his face was flushed, hair dishelved, pupils widen in lust, no thoughts in his head left. he opened his mouth, waiting nervously about what you are gonna do next.

you took a second and collected spit in your mouth, leaning over his head and letting it drip down into his own. "dont swallow yet." you ordered.

scaramouche stood there, mouth still wide open with your spit on his tongue, dick pulsating in his pants, arms pressed to the wall and you couldnt feel better about the whole situation. "why can't you always be this obedient?" you asked him. "you could've saved me so much harm."

he looked up to you with big eyes, getting more and more impatient. but instead of giving him what he wanted, what he needed, you took your phone out of your pocket and took a quick picture of him in this position.

scaramouche didnt know how fast it happened. was it the alcohol that made him react slower? was he too horny to even say anything until it was too late? he didnt know.

he chocked on the spit and you let go of him, the lack of your touch and the cold wind breeze making him freeze. "Did you just???" he began to ask, but you took a few steps back.

"Dare to come close to me in uni again, and the whole campus will see a picture of their beloved football player being a horny slut on my thigh." you blackmailed him.

Scaramouche couldn't help but open his mouth and close it again continuously, unable to cope with the whole situation right now.

"You dont dare.." he said, trying to threaten you, but you didnt give in.

"Watch me." you said, showing him your middle finger before slowly leaving him behind, quoting him before disappearing completely. "I'm looking forward to good cooperation.~"

☆☆☆

every time I post a fic I have the urge to apologize for my broken english. I hope you still enjoyed it nonetheless!!

[timeoutsoup]

Dig You A Grave part 3

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 prompt

Danny has no idea how his furry little house guest got to school, or why she was in the cafeteria, but right now he didn’t really care. Only about half of the people in the lunchroom escaped before Lunch Lady sealed the doors, trapping a lot of students and faculty. Danny had nowhere to transform and was running out of time.

While trying to think of a plan he heard the ghostly woman scream with outrage. Peeking out from one of the overturned tables, he can see Teekl sitting off to the side of the room, in one of the hard plastic chairs, just watching everything go down.

Danny’s mind completely changed course when she had threatened to turn his favorite feline into meatloaf.

He saw red.

He broke off a rusted piece of the table. He could tell it was iron from the way it made his skin tingle. Perfect.

Danny also grabbed the thermos from his bag, slinging it over his shoulder by the strap, before dashing for Teekl. across the room. Danny dodged mounds of meat, toppled tables and chairs. He chucked the iron table piece at the demented woman, not stopping to check if it hit, but from the sound of her pained wail, his aim was fine.

Reaching Teekl, he grabbed her and made it to safety behind another table. Checking to make sure she was unharmed, Danny broke off another piece of iron, and looked to where Lunch Lady was. She was in the center of the room whipping her head back and forth, searching for something, hand covering one of her eyes.

Counting his blessings with his throw, the halfa noticed a mound of meat behind her that he could use to his advantage, if his new idea worked. It was risky but she had threatened this precious fluff ball, so it was personal.

Ducking down, using the destruction as coverage, Danny slipped the backside of the large meat mound. He grabbed a tray and used his powers to jump on top of it, standing on the tray. He readied the new piece of iron, chucking it at the Lunch Lady. She screamed again as it hit its mark. Before she could react, Danny uncapped the thermos and sucked her in.

In all the commotion he didn’t hear the cafeteria doors being thrown open, nor did he notice the guy, who tried to ask out a few days ago enter.

Capping the thermos, Danny cleared his throat. “I have only had Teekl for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I thermos everyone in this room, and then myself.”

The lunchroom was silent, everyone just staring at Danny trying to figure out what just happened. It was Dash of all people who broke the silence. “Yeah, okay. Won’t touch the cat. Got it.”

Danny hadn’t noticed Dash and Kwan were behind the second table he used as cover, too busy checking on Teekl. They had watched him break off a piece of metal, with almost no effort, and then proceeded to take down a ghost, all because she had threatened the cat currently purring in the nerd’s arms. Dash and Kwan were not the smartest in the school, but they knew when to leave well enough alone. Also, if anyone could figure out how to stuff a human into a thermos, it would be a Fenton.

Danny descended the mound of meat, keeping Teekl safe in his arms. He quickly put the thermos in his bag, grabbing the rest of his belongings, and made a beeline for the exit. He needed to get Teekl back to his house and send Lunch Lady back to the ghost zone.

In his haste he still didn’t notice the stunned witch boy as he passed.

_________________________

Klarion was rarely left speechless, but the scene unfolding before did. His thoughts were racing as the young man holding Teekl raced past him. It was then that the Lord of Chaos, noticed the death magic, power and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, emanated from the interesting being that just passed him, holding tight to his familiar… TEEKL!

Spinning on his heel, Klarion raced after the boy, down the abandoned halls of the school. He finally caught up with them just past the steps.

“Wait! You have something of mine!” Klarion states as he grabs Danny’s shoulder.

Danny stops in his tracks and turns to look at whomever had just grabbed him.

“Um, hi? I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean.” Danny says as he takes in the state of the other guy. He looked tired and stress out.

Klarion raised an eyebrow before letting go of his shoulder and pointing to Teekl.

Danny looked down and realized that the devil horned guy in front of him was referring to the cat in his arms. Embarrassment flushed his face as he put two and two together.

“Oh. You must be Teekl’s person.” Danny murmured and Klarion just nodded. Then dread flooded the halfa. “I promise I didn’t put her in any danger. I don’t even know how she got to my school. I left her curled up on my bed this morning. Then all of a sudden, she is sitting on a chair in the cafeteria, being threatened to be turned into meatloaf by a ghost.”

Klarion snickered at the flustered explanation he was being given but took pity on the guy. “Don’t worry … I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, it’s Danny.”

“Lovely to finally have a name with your face. I am Klarion and as I was saying, don’t worry Danny, Teekl is a very smart, very talented cat and she loves to cause mischief. I would like to know how she came to be in you possession though.” The witch boy inquired as he opened his arms and his familiar jumped into them.

Danny looked down at his now empty arms and began to feel a sense of loss. Shaking his head to clear the emotions that were building. He could deal with them later, now wasn’t the best time. Taking a deep breath, he began to explain.

“Well after that speedster left me on the opposite side of town, I made my way back, but everything was over by the time I arrived. Loved the damage you did. Top tier destruction. It’s going to take forever to fix everything and cost a pretty penny. But back to your question. I found Teekl injured in an alleyway nearby, she let me pick her up, so I scooped her up and took her to the nearest vet. They patched her up, and said it was mostly just bumps and bruises, but they kept her overnight for observation. The next day I called to check on her, and no one had claimed her, so they asked me to be a foster. Oh, don’t worry about the bill, my friend Sam took care of it.”

“I wasn’t but thank you. Please continue”

“Okay. So where was I, oh yeah…. So, me and my friends went to the pet store and bought stuff so I could look after her. Then I went to pick her up, and I took her home with me. Teekl just hung out with me most of the weekend, and then today I got up, went to school and you’re caught up now.” Danny finished awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

Klarion looked down at Teekl and smiled softly. He understood why she stayed. This Danny was funny and chaotic, but most importantly, he was kind to an injured animal he had no responsibility too. He then thought of the light who hadn’t cared that Teekl was missing, and instead tried to give him another mission.

When the young Chaos Lord first started with them, it had been fun and exciting, but now it was more of a chore dealing with them. They weren’t even chaotic. They wanted order…Ew. Klarion had been considering leaving for a while and now he has found an interesting town, with an even more interesting boy, who likes his cat. He could always use more friends, especially since Tim was so busy being a hero. Maybe if he hangs out here for a bit he and Danny could become friends.

“I must thank you properly for saving my beloved familiar. Teekl means the world to me.”

“Oh, no need to do that. She was a delight to look after.”

“No, I must insist, besides she usually hates everyone who isn’t me. I trust her judgment, if she likes you then I might like you, and I could do with a few more friends. Come, let’s get some food, since yours was ruined.” Klarion said as he turned and began to walk away, this time leaving Danny stunned. He stopped and gestured for the other to follow.

Danny jogged to catch up to them. “Um, Klarion, what did you have in mind for food?”

“I will know it when I see it.”

“You have no idea where you are going, do you?” Danny sighed.

“Not a clue but it is more fun this way. Who wants to do the same thing every day. Rules, schedules, order are all so boring. Let’s try something new.”

Danny shrugged. It seemed logical to him. He continued to follow the shorter teen through the streets of Amity.

Tag list

@naluforever3 @seraphichana @starmee-lodurrson @rhode13 @fisticuffsatapplebees @kyrianclawraith @lehana37 @akikoyuii @undead-essence @crystaldrops20 @quirky-gardener @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @kaindraws @luffyrose @beelze-the-bubkiss @aro-in-danyl @agaponislovely @enderglace @plant5318008 @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @moonlightheart11 @dontfightmecauseillcry

[froggibus]

Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this site but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more. 

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high. 

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold. 

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends. 

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick. 

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you. 

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it. 

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it. 

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away. 

“You’re not losing it,” he says. 

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost. 

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here. 

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…” 

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis. 

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died. 

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case. 

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air. 

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you. 

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen. 

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally. 

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right. 

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t. 

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall. 

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly. 

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive. 

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening. 

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you. 

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tries to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway. 

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.” 

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers. 

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!” 

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head. 

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’” 

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute. 

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month. 

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible. 

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day. 

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest. 

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk. 

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room. 

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe. 

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on. 

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often. 

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you. 

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t. 

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in. 

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room. 

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor. 

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there. 

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe. 

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then. 

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it. 

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream. 

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again. 

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“Better,” you admit. 

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them. 

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms. 

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him. 

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route. 

You pull out your phone and text Dick. 

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work 

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage 

You: you’re the best 

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text. 

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder. 

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text. 

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it? 

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more 

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest. 

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask 

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either. 

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call. 

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.” 

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you. 

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not. 

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think. 

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time. 

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice. 

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.” 

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there. 

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing. 

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids. 

And then he disappears. 

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you? 

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him. 

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.” 

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue suit. 

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner. 

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed. 

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally. 

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner.  You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction. 

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you. 

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick. 

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side. 

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenches his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of money. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over. 

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up. 

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the store saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt every time he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not. 

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit. 

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest. 

“I—what’s going on?” You ask. 

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes. 

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is limping across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor. 

“How did you know I was here?” He asks. 

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.” 

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper. 

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you. 

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick says through gritted teeth, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

[iridescent-petrichor]

we’re just friends, right?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: none, just a classic jealousy trope with a side of accidental confessions :D

Words: 2.4K

A/N: been gone for forever lol but i moved so!!! that was stressful!!!! but im back now so hopefully more fics coming soon !!

You’d been friends with Steve for a couple of years now, getting quite close to him after the demogorgon attack at the Byers' house with Jonathan and Nancy. The trauma bonded the two of you more than you had expected, especially when you kept having to band together to protect the kids every year since.

Today, though, was an ordinary afternoon. You stood at the counter of Family Video, watching Steve stumbling in, still throwing his vest on as he rushed into the building.

“Hey!” He smiled when he saw you, swerving around a customer not much older than either of you as they left, finding his usual spot next to you.

“You know you were supposed to start an hour ago, right?” You asked, biting back a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t expect to run so late today.” He sighed, finally getting his outfit situated, looking at himself in the reflection of a television, patting his hair down.

You knew he went on a date the night before. He told you and Robin about it for hours before it actually happened, and you spent most of his rant ignoring Robin’s pitying looks.

“Was it something with…” You trailed off, honestly not even remembering the girl’s name. He’d gone on so many dates recently that you found it hard to keep track.

“Margaret! Or- Maggie.” He exclaimed, the smile on his face when he said her name making your stomach churn. “Yeah, I actually spent the night.”

You knew what he meant by that. It’s not like he was being subtle about it, waggling his eyebrows with a sly grin on his face. Turning away, you tried to busy yourself so he didn’t see the frown growing on your face.

Steve, oblivious, kept talking. He continued mindlessly about Maggie and their date and how wonderful she was and how well she listened and how he’s considering asking her out again.

“I was thinking dinner and a movie this Friday, what do you think?”

“She’d love that, I’m sure.” You muttered, already trying to tune him out. You turned your focus to the movies you were stocking, losing yourself in your thoughts while you easily set the new releases on the shelf on the display at the front of the store.

It didn’t take long before you noticed how quiet the store was. Looking up, you noticed Steve must’ve gone to a different part of the store, already distracted by something else he had to do. Brushing it off, you went back to work. Plus, it’s not like you were jealous of Maggie. Definitely not.

You couldn’t help the sigh escaping your lips, pushing your feelings down like you were so used to doing. You and Steve were such good friends now that there was no way you were gonna confess your annoying feelings for him just to ruin everything you two had built over the years.

The rest of your shift was… difficult… to say the least. You knew Steve could sense something was wrong, but you managed to sneak out of the conversation every time he was about to bring it up. That lasted for hours until you quickly clocked out and waved goodbye to him, taking a slight detour on the way home.

 Pulling up to an all too familiar house, you climbed out of your car and made your way up to knock at the front door. There was an audible shuffling throughout the house before the door swung open, revealing another dear coworker of yours.

“Hey!” Robin smiled, opening the door wider to let you in.

You followed her into her room, collapsing onto her bed once she shut the door.

“Jeez, what happened to you?” She asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Steve.” You groaned, sighing heavily.

“Oh god, is it that date he had with that girl?”

“Maggie.” The name tasted sour on your tongue, and Robin stifled a laugh, laying down next to you.

“You know he doesn’t actually like her, right?” She asked, laughing lightly when she saw the confusion on your face. “He doesn’t like any of these girls, that’s why he never takes them on a second date.”

“That’s the thing, Robin!” You shot up, suddenly upright in her bed. “He said he’s thinking of asking her out again! Dinner, movie, this Friday!”

Robin was quiet for a moment, clearly not anticipating that.

“Yeah.” You said, giving her a disappointed look.

“Listen, I haven’t been friends with Steve for as long as you have, but I do have eyes.” Slowly, she sat up as well. “Whenever you’re not looking at him, Steve stares at you like… like you’re the greatest thing in the universe. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t caught him, he’s practically drooling over you every time you’re in the room.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at Robin. “I think you need glasses, Rob.”

“I think you do!” She laughed, shoving you gently.

“Whatever.” You muttered, glancing down at your hands that sat in your lap. “I should head home, anyway. Gotta prepare for my shift tomorrow.”

Robin nodded. “Same here. I’ll see you at work!”

You got up, Robin following you as you walked to your car. She hung back at the front door, calling out to you as she started to close it.

“Think about what I said!”

 And you did.

The whole drive home you couldn’t help getting your hopes up, thinking that maybe there is a chance that Steve Harrington actually liked you.

Your mind wandered to everything he said, always giving you his full attention like you were saying the most important thing in the world

But that’s just how he was. It’s not like that’s exclusive to you.

Still, though, there was a small but ever-growing spark of hope deep within you that Robin started, festering until you parked your car in your driveway and trudged into your house, making your way to your own bedroom.

Despite your frustrations, you kept replaying every memory you could hold onto of Steve. You began overthinking everything – every little touch, everything he’d said to you, the way he said it, the way he looked at you, when you would catch him staring…

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You groaned, slapping a hand over your eyes.

You’re delusional if you think he’d ever actually like you.

The doubt within you was still stronger than your hopes, bringing you back to the reality of having a crush on someone who was only friends with you because you killed monsters together.

You finally decided to go to sleep, tired from a long shift and a day of overthinking, unrequited pining, and false hopes.

 The next morning came far too soon, and now the light shining through your window was keeping you from falling back asleep. You stumbled out of bed, getting ready as fast as you could before throwing a Family Video vest over your shirt and driving off to work.

When you arrive, you see Robin first. She perks up when she sees you, waving as you enter. You wave back, the grin on your face only faltering when you notice Steve standing towards the back of the store, chatting up some girl.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Robin gave you a tightlipped smile as you stood next to her, looking away to avoid the pitying look in her eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m in love with him.” You can tell by the way she looks at you that she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, and at this point, you’re not sure you do either.

Steve hears your voice, thankfully not actually hearing the words you were saying, easily slipping out of the conversation with the girl he’d been talking to so he could make his way behind the counter next to you.

“Hey, you’re on time!” He smiled, folding his arms as he approached you.

“Yeah, I can actually manage that.” You quipped, mimicking his pose.

“Okay, okay, like you’ve never made one mistake.” He rolled his eyes. Robin took a step back, slowly making her way out of the room while the two of you talked.

“Nope. Never made a single mistake. Not once.” Steve’s eyes widened, faux shock in his eyes.

“Oh, really? You sure about that?”

You didn’t have the chance to respond before a loud throat clearing made the two of you jump back, seeing the girl from moments ago standing in front of the register, frustration evident on her face. She was giving you the dirtiest look she could muster, but Steve waved it off, quickly ringing her up before he turned back to you.

“Anyways, did you hear the kids are planning a dnd campaign?”

The girl scoffed, grabbing her movie and leaving the store. Steve didn’t look back at her, and you had to bite your cheek to hold back the grin on your face.

“…Y/N?” Steve waved a hand in front of your face, getting your attention.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You forced yourself out of your thoughts, looking to Steve. “What’s up?”

“…You’ve been weird lately, you okay? Any demogorgons in your head?” Lightly, he knocked on your head, making you laugh.

“Yeah, no, yeah, I’m fine.” Just grappling with my feelings for you.

“You sure?” The concern in his voice made you weak, and you take a breath to hold everything back. Every confession on your tongue, everything you took the time to notice when no one else would. How he always checks the darkest corners of a room when he walks in, and how he never fully lets himself relax. How he still keeps that stupid bat in his car because he’s terrified that if he doesn’t have it and something happens he won't be able to protect anyone. How he hates driving at night because he’s worried something’s gonna leap out of the shadows. How he checks in on everyone else because no one ever thinks to check in on him.

“Y/N?” You look up, seeing Steve still standing there, giving you a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Then, more convincingly, “Yeah, I’m sure.” You give him a warm smile that he returns, trying to ignore the worry in his eyes.

The way Steve looked at you made your head spin, and for a moment you let yourself pretend that he could actually think of you that way. That he could care for you. That he could love you.

You turn away, trying to busy yourself despite how dead the store was. It was the middle of the day on a Thursday, so everyone and their mothers were spending their time anywhere but there. You felt like you were underwater, stuck in your own brain analyzing every little thing Steve did.

The way he stood so close to you, the affection he gave you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person that matters, always making sure you’re okay…

Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not like I’m in love with you.

“What was that?” You froze, risking a glance at Steve. He stood there, looking just as surprised as you felt, and you knew you were in deep shit.

All those days hiding your feelings and biting your tongue finally came to a head.

“I-” You tried to speak, but you couldn’t do anything more than stand there like a deer in headlights.

“What did you say?” Steve took a tentative step closer, and you felt like the world was closing in on you.

“I mean, c’mon,” You scoffed, looking anywhere but him. “It’s not like you didn’t know. Everyone knew.”

“No, I think I would definitely remember knowing that you were, what was it, in love with me?” You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or not, and you felt your mouth dry up, staring harshly at the ground.

“Steve.” You warned, voice weaker than you wanted it to be.

His eyes widened when he realized you were shutting down, frantic to make sure you wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“Y/N, if you told me sooner you were in love with me then I wouldn’t have had to go on all those stupid dates!” He rushed, putting his hands on either side of your shoulders.

You made eye contact with him, brain short-circuiting as you tried to process what he was saying.

“Hey,” His voice gently brought you back into the present moment, giving you a small smile. “Do you remember a couple of years back, at Jonathan’s place, when we were all waiting for those demodogs to show up? And everyone was exhausted and terrified and trying to prepare for a war against these stupid… things from another dimension?”

“Yeah. I remember.” You said quietly.

“Well, I was trying to get ready, and I looked over at you, and you were talking to Max. She was trying to pretend she was okay but you said you saw that she was terrified out of her mind, so you sat with her for a minute calming her down. You made sure she knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to her, that you would make absolutely sure that none of the kids were getting hurt.” You remembered it like it was yesterday. Max was shaking, but she was trying so hard to stand strong, so you pulled her aside and tried to reassure her. You didn’t even know Steve noticed when that happened.

“Then,” Steve continued. “When we were all waiting for the monsters to come to kill us all, you stood at the front of the group, more than ready to protect everyone with your life. It was… I mean, I was terrified for you. I thought that I was going to lose you, and I would never have the chance to tell you I was in love with you.”

You felt your heart swell. “…What?”

“You know,” Steve laughed, “I’m surprised you didn’t see right through me. Robin immediately did; she gave me hell every time I told her I had a new date. I figured you just didn’t like me back.”

“Are you kidding, how could I not?” The look on Steve’s face made you slap a hand over your mouth, not wanting to spill anything else you’d been holding back.

“So… What do you say we get dinner tonight? My treat.” He offered, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d love that, Steve.”

[kira-broflovski]

main 4 boys hcs: seeing you come back after you moved away

note: this set of hcs is really similar to a kyle fic i have in my drafts already 😭 but im glad you guys are enjoying my writing :)

STAN ☆

when he heard there was a "new girl" in school he didn't think much of it, and you weren't in his first class so it didn't really bother him.

he didn't even recognise you when the teacher called your name for the register in his second period class. was it really you?

"Y/N?" He whispered out of shock.

"Hi, Stan." You had whispered back with a smile, making a familiar sense of nausea come back to him.

the two of you spent the whole of class chatting; catching up.

^ that landed stan into detention, but he didn't care. you only didn't get detention because the teacher didn't want to scare you off on your first day.

stan didn't care though, it was totally worth it when he got your number and socials.

he couldn't resist texting you while he was in detention. your presence through the phone was enough to keep him going, and the endless conversation made the hours go by quickly.

after you got closer, he invited you to a soccer (football) game that he was playing in this weekend. of course he spent most of the game showing off when he spotted you in the crowd, and he worked hard to make sure his team won.

when he scored a goal, adrenaline was coursing through his veins. without thinking he ran up to where you stood in the stands and kissed you on the cheek, to then run back and continue playing.

that was only the beginning of the romance.

KYLE ☆

he went to school that morning, he was confused as to why people were talking about you.

i mean, you moved away from south park years ago. did people really miss you that much? he couldn't blame them, he probably missed you the most out of anyone.

it wasn't until lunch when jimmy went up to kyle.

"Your little girlfriend is back. Aren't you gonna talk to her?"

"Huh?"

"Dude, Y/N?" Jimmy was surprised at Kyle's confusion. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Kyle was starting to worry people were playing a cruel joke on him.

"Oh my god, Y/N is b-back." Jimmy began, "I thought you would be the first to know?"

"No?" Kyle looked at his friends in disbelief. "Where is she right now?"

"She's outside talking to-"

poor jimmy couldn't even finish his sentence before kyle sprinted outside to see you. he really hoped it wasn't a joke, otherwise he'd never recover from being made to look like such an idiot.

he ran outside to find you just saying goodbye to butters, and he couldn't believe his eyes. he was so happy to see you he almost cried.

he called your name and you looked over at the familiar voice. you were so relieved to see none other than kyle broflovski himself.

"we should probably leave them two lovebirds alone for a little while."

KENNY ☆

kenny heard that a family had moved into the house you used to live in, and he was pissed off to say the least.

he treated your old house like a sacred ground as nobody had lived there since you had moved out.

he sometimes snuck into the back garden when he needed to get away from everything, or when he really missed you. he made sure any plants you had grown yourself were still alive, in the seemingly unlikely event you did return.

what he didn't know is that your family owned this house and didn't let anybody move in because you all knew you'd return to south park at some point.

he marched over to that house to see exactly who it was, but he noticed that there wasn't even a moving van, just two brand new cars.

To say the least, he was fuming. He was ready to raise hell on these people. Even if it wasn't actually called for, and he was just upset his memories of you would be ruined by them.

He didn't even hear commotion inside, telling him that this new family had already settled in. How dare they!?

The door opened and he was ready. He looked up at the mystery person only to see... your mom?

"Oh, Kenny! It's so good to see you." She smiled down at him. His burning anger turned into complete confusion. "Y/N! Your old friend is here to see you already!"

he could feel his heart racing again, but this time out of anticipation.

when he saw you, he felt that sense of peace you always gave him and he immediately felt his cheeks get hot when you pulled him into a welcoming hug.

after all that time, when he would spend hours just sitting in the garden he now knew it was worth it.

and after all those hours of catching up, you walked him all the way home and even up to the doorstep.

you said you were glad to see him again, before you kissed him on the cheek and made your way back home.

"WOOHOO!!"

ERIC ☆

i imagine he'd be like kyle where he wouldn't realise until somebody said to him you were back. only difference is he would attempt to act as if he didn't care.

you were in all of his classes when kyle asked if he had seen you yet.

of course this confused eric and claimed kyle was just being stupid again when he said you were back.

"Shut up, Kyle! You're just trying to make me look stupid in front of everyone." Eric shouted.

"I swear she's here, ask literally anyone in our grade and they'll say she is back!"

It was constant back and forth, until Eric heard somebody say his name.

To which he screamed, "what!?"

you couldn't tell at the time, but he felt bad for screaming in your face like that.

he remembers having a massive crush on you, but he got angry that you left without telling him.

when he stared straight into your eyes, he couldn't stay angry for long.

you gave him your new number so you could catch up when you had more time, and he simply watched as you walked away.

"I told you so, fatass!"

[ec1ips3]

-;༉‧₊˚✧  𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧

⚡︎ pairing: leon Kennedy x reader

⚡︎ summary: you and leon move in together :)

⚡︎ warning: establish relationship, very fluffy, like really really fluffy, some swearing, no actual smut (sorry y’all) but it is like- hinted at?, uhm leaving but not for long, a shiton of fluff im so sorry-

⚡︎ word count: 3,167

⚡︎ a/n: let me just say, there were so many drafts for this because i literally had no idea what to write. and hold on, let’s talk about how this is actually on time. new changes people. anyway, this is actually so cute and i hope you enjoy it because i had a big writer’s block. happy reading! <33

masterlist | leon’s masterlist | taglist

You open the door and walk into, the familiar empty space that you’re ready to call home. You walk further into the apartment, imagining all of the memories that will lie within these walls. You couldn’t wait, the excitement causing you to squeal.

“I’m more than excited, but carrying all of these boxes isn’t all that exciting. You have so many things”

You pull back and hit his arm lightly. “Let me remind you, it’s both of our things combined. I’m not the only one that’s guilty, pretty boy. Now you gonna help me with the rest or what?” You ask walking out of the new place.

You pull back and hit his arm lightly. “Let me remind you, it’s both of our things combined. I’m not the only one that’s guilty, pretty boy. Now you gonna help me with the rest or what?” You ask walking out of the new place.

You and Leon had been dating for a bit now when Leon requested to take things slow, you agreed within a heartbeat. You kept your promise to him and the two of you really did take things slow, some may argue too slow, but it was the pace both of you were comfortable with.

Before the two of you thought of the idea you both had a toothbrush at each other’s place, it felt so natural. There was even a point where Leon basically lived with you for months because he didn’t want to be alone.

He was the first to propose the idea of moving in together, at first you were a little on edge. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to move in with him, it was just newfound territory. It wasn’t going to be for a few months, it was (you were hoping) going to be til you were old and wrinkly. He knew you were on edge with the topic, so he continued with a smile and a “only if you’re comfortable.”

After a few months and a lot of thinking, you brought up the topic again, having an actual sit down with his. You spoke about your boundaries and he spoke about him, once you both agreed to everything and had a quick makeout session because of the news, you figured everything out. Both of you wanted to have a new apartment, and a new environment, with new furniture, appliances, and space. You and Leon went apartment hunting together, bought furniture together, and packed everything together.

Now here you are today, walking up and down stairs, getting boxes from the truck, giving a glance at each other when you pass each other. Once all the boxes were settled, you laid out on the floor, Leon sitting next to you, the both of you out of breath.

“Let’s not move again after this,” he said, his voice scratchy.

“Agreed.” You responded as you got up to walk to the kitchen. You got the box cutter and opened the box with the label ‘Glass’ on it.

“When did you say everything was coming in?” He followed you as you took two cups out of the box.

“The couch, table, and rug are coming in next week, they said the mattress should be here tomorrow but the bed set and dressers won’t be here til the end of the week. I forgot when he said the dining things should be here. But we still have some tables and plants to get, along with maybe some paintings and picture frames.” you say as you put the cup under the facet and hand him a glass.

Leon groaned, “hotel tonight?” he asked sipping on his cup of water. You sipped on yours and nodded quietly.

The rest of the day was spent with both of you putting all the kitchen things in the cabinets and drawers. Then once you were done with that you did some cleaning and some planning on where to put things. Once it was starting to get dark Leon left to get some take-out nearby, coming back 20 minutes later.

Sitting on the floor and talking about the future of the apartment, making up some plans and ideas whilst eating. It already felt so natural that at this moment, you made the right decision.

Once you were done you wanted to go back to cleaning and putting things away but Leon insisted on looking for a place to stay for the night since the both of you did a lot. You didn’t want to leave just yet so you settled on a game of rock paper scissors, Leon won.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . ☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ───

When you woke up the next morning, the familiar arms around your waist the first thing you thought of was the mattress that was being delivered today. After you fought for your freedom away from his arms you went to take a shower and started your day early. When you came back and noticed him still sleeping, you decided to wake him up, explaining what you had to do today.

After all the effort he finally woke up, mumbling some complaints and going to the bathroom. Coming out with a new outfit on and his teeth brushed. You checked out and went to the apartment, now waiting for the mattress.

You were finishing cleaning up while Leon was on putting the things in the bathroom duty. Leon’s job is too easy and too quick for him. “Is that all you wanted me to do?” he asked, walking back into the main area.

“If you want, you could go look for a new bathroom set. Curtains, rugs, those cute little toothbrush holders.”

He tilted his head, “are you sure you don’t want to do that with me? You look like you have a style going for you.”

You stopped sweeping. “I still have to clean up, it’ll save so much time if you’d just go now.”

Leon still looked unsure, not convinced.

“Leon, you are a grown-ass man. Please go outside and get a good-looking set.”

“Is there a style you wanted? Or like a specific color? Maybe what you don’t want or-”

You kissed his lips lightly, “just make sure it looks cute, kay?” you smile up at him. Leon looks like there are a thousand thoughts in his mind but once he shakes his head, he focuses. “Okay, yeah. I’ll get the- the cute ones..” he says, telling himself more than he’s telling you.

He shakes his head against and kisses your lips quickly again, “I should be back soon. Love you” he said as he kissed your cheek, heading out the door.

“Love you too!” you called back, the door closing when you finished your sentence. You huffed and looked back at what you had to do.

You spent the rest of your time cleaning till everything was perfect. After a couple of hours, you began to worry since Leon still wasn’t back and you hadn’t heard from him since he left. When you heard your bell ring you were hoping it was him and he had forgotten his key. But after a few minutes, a knock was at the door when you found out it wasn’t your favorite blond but the mattress guy.

He put the mattress in the middle of the living room and left with a smile and a tip you gave him. You were tempted to jump on it and relax for a bit, but you wanted the first time to be with him so you continued your job.

A few hours after the mattress was delivered the door finally opened. Leon had so many plastic bags in his hand, take-out in the other, and he had only a smile on his face. He kissed the top of your head as a hello and just started speaking.

“You have to see everything I got, everything was just so nice in there!” He said, setting the bags down. “Oh yeah?” you asked, walking to the bags and looking at what was inside the food bag. The both of you sat on the floor again and Leon just kept talking while eating dinner.

“I got so many things in there that I didn’t just get bathroom stuff. I got this picture frame, you know for the entryway and it could be the picture of us inside. This picture frame could be when we get a dog, cat, or both. The landlord said he didn’t care, remember? Oh! And this! Oh my god, so it’s a fake plant but it looks real so I was thinking we could use it in the entry”

Leon just kept going and going, showing every item like it was your first time seeing them. He even told the reasonings as to why he got the certain color shower curtain with this oddly shaped rug. He was just so excited about everything that all you did was listen, nod, and admire him.

It wasn’t until he was out of breath from talking so much he stopped to get a glass of water. When he walked back, he finally noticed the mattress. “What is that?” he asked.

You laugh at him, “what does it look like, pretty boy? It’s our bed” you respond, getting up and throwing out the garbage. “It’s here already?” he asked. You looked back at him confused, “how long did you think you were out? I was able to put the covers, blanket, and pillows on it while you were gone” you respond to him.

Leon looked shocked, not by everything you did or how the mattress just randomly showed up but because of how long he was in the store.

“Wanna try it?” you asked, Leon’s heard perking up and nodding quickly.

He took your hand and the both of you jumped on it together. Comfortable wasn’t even the word for this mattress, it felt like you were with a cloud. It didn’t matter that it was on the floor in your living room, you were both so cozy and warm that you knew everything that you were once doing, wouldn’t finish tonight.

“This is amazing” Leon breathed out, “I agree. We made a good choice” you respond to him.

Leon held you close as he was now planting kisses all over your face while you were just giggling at him. He kept trying to pull you even closer to him but to no avail. “What’s gotten into you?” you giggle at him.

“Just happy to be home” he mumbled in between kisses. “Do you not like it?” he stopped.

“No, I love it. I just think there’s more to it than just this”

Leon then put his lips on yours, and you kissed him back as he put his hands on the back of your head, pushing your lips forward. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss and you accepted him greatly.

When you pulled away you both caught your breath, “I knew there was more to it” you mumble, Leon only smiles and pecks your lips.

“Only testing the bed. You don’t have to if you don’t want to” he reassures you, looking at you in the eyes to make sure you’re certain. But what he sees is certainty in your eyes.

You nodded quickly, “let’s test it out,” you say, kissing him again, grabbing onto the back of his neck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . ☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ───

The next few weeks after this was just filled with work, shopping, and waiting for furniture. You both didn’t want to build anything until you had everything.

Leon had bought groceries so you wouldn’t be eating takeout for the rest of your life, you looked at some plants and paintings, slowly but surely placing them in random spots in the apartment. The couch was when the apartment started to look more like a place to live. Your entry table was the first thing the both of you built, it was pretty quick and easy, so when it was put in the entryway, with the picture frames, plants, and a calendar, you squealed together.

All of the furniture you build together, every dining chair, table, random seat, and the bookshelf was a joint effort. You placed all of the rugs in the spots they were meant to be in while Leon just decorated the bathroom.

The last thing to show up was the bed and dressers. Now when the guy delivered them his job was to also build them, and he was doing it for free. But Leon insisted the man leave so that he could build it. The man kept telling him that it was part of his job and that it was okay. But Leon assured him he had it covered and even tipped the man large just to leave.

He did not have it.

Leon groaned in frustration, “Y/n!” he called from the master bedroom. You rolled your eyes as you were setting the dining table. “Coming, Leon!” you called back. You stepped back and looked at the decor on the table stratified you walked to your boyfriend.

“What’s the problem?” you ask, he handed you a small booklet.

“Do you think you could read the instructions to me? It’s hard to stay on track while also trying to build”

You laughed and sat down on the mattress that was on the floor of the bedroom. “Nope. I told you I wasn’t going to help you because you didn’t let the nice man build it for you”

Leon rolled his eyes, “because I knew I could do it myself. I still can!” he tries to defend himself but you only laugh at him even more.

You get on your knees next to him, taking the booklet from his hands. You read the instructions and it looks pretty simple to you. You hand it to him and stand up, getting the pieces together. “Read it to me,” you say.

“Are you sure? I can do it while you read-”

“Read it!” you cut him off. Leon quickly turned to the page.

He starts to read out what you’re meant to be doing and you are doing it in a breeze. It wasn’t until the middle that conflicts began. Stupid little comments here and there.

“It isn’t meant to go that way,” Leon said, looking at the booklet and back at what you were building. You walk over to the booklet and walked back to the progress.

“It looks the exact same, Leon. Please just continue reading”

“No it doesn’t look how this is facing, your’s isn’t facing that way.”

“It is facing that way” you argue back.

“Maybe I should do this,” Leon said, putting the booklet down.

“Maybe we should’ve let the furniture man do this” you mumbled.

“I didn’t want furniture man in my home!” Leon defends his actions.

“He was here to build everything, what did you think was going to happen!?” you ask, a smile on your face. You both knew this wasn’t a serious argument so neither of you was able to keep it together.

“What if you looked at him building the bed and thought ‘hm, maybe I should live with him.’ Ever thought about that tough guy?” Leon argued back, a smile on his face too as his hands were on his hips.

You laugh loudly at him, walking over and wrapping your arms around him, Leon doing the same as he tries to hold back his laughter. “Why would I even think about that?”

“I don’t know, I’m making things up at this point,” he says

The two of you continue to laugh together finally deciding on reading and building together which actually helped get the bed frame done quicker. Once it was finished both move the bed to the bed frame and jumped on the mattress again, this time not on the floor.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . ☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ───

Time after this was simple. Instead of Leon getting excited over the bathroom it was you getting excited over the bedroom. Every decoration you wanted and put fit perfectly in your shared bedroom.

Just like you did with him, Leon watched the way you squealed even with putting down a small picture frame of just the two of you placed on top of the dresser. He would always walk over to you and kiss the top of your head when you were done. He was completely smitten with you.

Once everything was settled this was a dream come true for him. He was happier knowing that he would be able to wake up and fall asleep with you by this side every morning and night. He was happier looking at the apartment while you were at work and just seeing how the both of you mixed everything to make this shelter for the both of you.

What he didn’t think would happen was how much harder it was to leave you. It was already difficult before, but knowing that’ll you’ll be in the apartment you shared, all by yourself, while he was out on a mission, fighting some creature…

It crushed him.

The night before he left, holding onto you tighter than he has before because he knew he would leave in the middle of the night. When he woke up and had to watch as you were asleep peacefully, not being able to give him a proper goodbye. He gave you one, of course, a kiss on the cheek with some whispered words. In the middle of the mission, he was just thinking of you expecting his arrival, that’s what keeps him going, you. When he’s finished and on his way back, his mind is just on you, nothing else.

You lay on the couch, watching the tv, blanket wrapped around you as you were slowly falling asleep when you didn’t want to. Your eyes close but flutter open shortly after, only for them to try to close again.

The room was dark, with only the tv screen and a few candles supporting it with light, the room looked so homey and cozy, it’d make anyone want to fall asleep.

You didn’t even realize the door had opened or that someone was in front of you until you felt your blanket rise as he moved to lay on the couch with you. You open your eyes slightly as you mumble his name, “Leon?”

He hushes you, his arms around your neck as your head rests on his shoulder. “I’m so tired, pretty” he mumbles.

“I am too” you respond.

You kiss the top of his head once you hear the quiet snores, closing your eyes again.

That’s when you knew you would spend the night sleeping on the couch, with the person you’d move in with a thousand times again.

this is actually so cute. i love this.