#// he's like pls i did this for fun it was my escape to write these i didn't know i was gonna get all popular

[mythcaels-a]

slides ezra at the dash

[mooooonnnzz]

Forward Beckons Rebound

Dad!Stanford x teen!reader

⚜ 9,8k words OH MY GOD is anyone actually going to read this?

⚜ this was such a pain to complete but writing it was so fun? mixed feelings

⚜ book of bill major spoils

⚜ quick summary: ford is soooo obsessed with finding the secrets of gravity falls and learns to regret making a deal with bill because he almost loses you and he lost fiddleford?? erm...

⚜ bit of gore and blood is described here! u r warned! it's not bad tho i promise

⚜ angst!! + gender neutral reader also instead of stan and ford not seeing each other for 10 yrs, i changed it to 17 cuz it didnt make sense before 😭

⚜ DONT KILL ME PLS but i unintentionally wrote fiddleauthor BUT IT'S NOT LIKE, in your face, nothing is ever stated so take it as you will?

⚜ to anyone who fully reads it, i hoped you enjoyed!! this might flop ngl

Ford stared at his billboard that was filled to the brim with photos of all of Gravity Falls anomalies. A thin string of red was strung across the board, ultimately leading to the middle where a big question mark was laid. For days he’s been theorizing theories on where all the abnormalities came from. Was there a rip in their universe where it expelled all their strange creatures into your world? Or was this a natural occurrence that happens only in Gravity Falls. Ford couldn’t figure it out. Tapping his chin with his pen, his mind raced with thoughts. “Where did it all come from?” He uttered under his breath, eyes squinting in thought. “Where did what come from?” You slip in his lab, placing a plate of food on his table. 

“Oh!” Ford yelped out in surprise. “You scared me there, Kiddo.” He says, chuckling. 

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile. “I brought you dinner.” Ford’s eyes graze the plate for a second, making a mental note in his head to eat the food you prepared later. Eating was a waste of time and he can’t waste any time when he’s on the brink of solving the mysteries hidden within this town  “I’ll eat it later.” He said with a dismissive tone, his attention going back to the board. 

“This again?” You roll your eyes. “Dad, can you back away from this just for a second and eat dinner with me?” You walk into his view, hands locked together as you pleaded with him. “It’ll be quick! You’ll be back to your work in no time!” You add. Your eyes search his face for any sign of him changing his mind but none came. All he did was side step you, his attention so sucked up in his own head he didn’t even notice what you were saying. He only noticed that you were standing in his way. “Dad,” You let out an exasperated sigh, hands falling down to your sides. 

“You’re not even listening to me.” You said, your eyes landing on a table. An idea sprouted in your head. You kicked the leg of the nearby table, eyes darting over to Ford, looking for a reaction, anything that’ll give him a reason to look at you but be doesn’t budge. Your heart shatters a bit, he’s been so caught up in his work that you and him haven’t properly spoken in awhile. Him being wrapped up in his work wasn’t abnormal, but to this degree, it was very rare for him to cast everything aside and hyper-focus on his findings. You mindlessly kicked the floor, eyes glued to the ground. 

“I’m gonna…” You pause for a moment, voice getting caught in your throat. You couldn’t fully focus on what you were trying to say. You were too absorbed in retaining the tears in your eyes, too ashamed to let them fall. You felt so pathetic for being so deeply wounded that your very own dad pushed you and the food you spent a lot of time making away. There are other problems in the world and you’re over here, on the brink of tears because your dad was being too dedicated to his lifelong work? It all felt so stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it didn’t alleviate the sadness that was bubbling inside of you.

“I’m gonna go,” You meekly said, rapidly wiping the tears that escaped with your arm. 

“Not now, sweetie. I’m this close to breaking this case. I can feel it!”

Silence overcasted him instead of your usual banter. Odd, he thought. Whipping his head over to where you stood, he visibly deflated. You were no longer there. 

Ford smacked his head in annoyance that was directed at himself. He was doing it again. Discarding the pen in his hand, he went to look for you. “Sweetie?” Ford calls for you, heading towards your room. Not wanting to intrude, he cautiously knocked on your door. “Can I come in, kiddo?” He had his forearm resting against the casting of the door, hand over his eyes.

After hearing some shuffling and quiet sniffs, you open the door. “Yes?” Your eyes are glassy when you look at him and his heart cracks in two. He’s the cause of this. “I came here to apologize.” He said, voice audibly full of regret. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was out of line and not a way I should treat you when all you wanted was to spend time with me.” You wracked your brain for a moment, debating whether you should accept his apology or mull over this heartbreak just a little longer. You fidgeted with the door, moving it side to side as you continued to think, prolonging it just to purposefully bug with Ford. 

Falling right into your trick, Ford bit his lip, anxiously chewing on the skin. “Are you going to say anything or you’re going to leave me hanging over here?” His hand dragged down the trim of the door, finger tapping on the wall, nervously waiting for your answer. You couldn’t stay mad at him. A small smile pulls to your face and you wrap him in a bone crushing hug. “You better not ignore me like that again!” Your voice muffled through his long sleeved sweater. His arms wrap around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “I won't, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying when he promised you he wouldn’t get so enraptured by his work like that ever again. He saw how he secluded himself from you and swore up and down he was going to spend less time researching, even if it meant that he had to shove his hungry curiosity away. 

But he would be lying if he said he never laid in bed thinking about what he could be doing instead, what mysteries he could be unsolving and what discoveries he could make that would bring him closer to the question that had been gnawing on him ever since he arrived to this peculiar place.

Many nights were spent restlessly imagining what could be the final piece to his concluding mystery. And one day, he had enough of sitting around. Curiosity killed the cat, a phrase you’d tell him whenever his relentless interest in the unknown occasionally backfired on him, circled throughout his brain but he paid no mind. The yearn to find answers was too great. Slipping on his trench coat, he grabbed his bag. Stringing it over his shoulder, he told you that he was heading out. Completely unaware of his plans, you bid him goodbye from your room. 

Ford came back a little while with nothing new other than discovering an old inscription carvings in a cave. He had hoped that reading them outloud would at least summon something that would give him answers! But his actions were fruitless. Defeated and annoyed, he came back. Entering the house, he called out for you. 

“In the kitchen!” 

He removed his coat and hung it on his coat hanger, along with his bag. He walked over to the kitchen, the smell of spices and cooked meat lingered in the air. “Smells good, kiddo.” He comments, grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. You turn over to him, exaggerating an angry look on your face. “I would have normally taken your compliment but I’m more curious on where you went for practically the whole day!” Ford playfully rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “I was out, sweetie. I lost track of time.” He says, popping the soda can open. Your eyes lock on the Pitt Cola can in his hand. “You don’t drink soda,” You turn off the stove, putting the dirty cooking utensils in the sink “Drinking some once and awhile doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs, ruffling your hair. “dad!” you smacked his hand away from your hair. “Go sit down!” You grumbled, to which he complied. 

While you were setting up dinner, a terrible headache overcame Ford. Clutching his head with his free hand, he threw away the Pitt Cola, thinking the soda was the cause of his headache. When you called him for dinner, his brain squirmed in pain. He walked over to the table, sitting himself down as he gripped his head. Too lost in the mind numbing pain, he fails to hear your calls.

“Dad?” 

No response.

“Dad?” You called out again, kicking him from under the table. He jolted up in surprise. 

“W-What?” He groaned out, his hand still on his forehead. “Are you okay?” You reach out to him, hand on his arm as your thumb moves side to side. Ford weakly smiles, appreciating the gesture. “I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at you, offering a timid thumbs up. “I’m just getting old.” He said, the pads of his fingers pressing against his temples. 

“Do you want me to get you tylenol or—?” Ford waves you off. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ll tough it out.” 

For the past few minutes, you’d catch him staring off into the distance, eyes wide and mouth half open. Everytime you would have to snap him out of his trance, worried if he stayed like that any longer something bad would have happened. Abruptly getting up from the chair, he mumbles, “Heading to bed.” Leaving you alone in the dining room. Unsure on how to react, you watched him leave. No goodnight? No kiss on the forehead? You frowned and got up from your chair, grabbing your plate and his. While washing the dishes you thought of all the possible reasons on why he’s acting so weirdly. But nothing came to mind. Drying your hands on your pants, you walked over to his room.

Opening the door, you peeked your head in. You found him fast asleep on his bed. Carefully stepping inside his room, you pull his blanket over his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.” You whisper. 

The next morning was weird to say the least. You woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into your room. Curious and hungry, you quickly brushed your teeth and skipped down the hall. “Dad?” You walk into the kitchen to see him cooking up breakfast, a large smile to his face. “You look happy?” You say rather confused, watching as he flipped the pancake up in the air. 

“Today is a good day, kiddo!” He said with so much energy you were convinced that your dad was kidnapped and replaced by a poorly made replica during the night. Never once in your life have you seen him so chipper to be up so early. “Is that so?” Ford finishes up the pancakes and sets them on plates. He hands you a plate and puts his down on the table. 

He grabbed butter and syrup from the cabidents, popping the syrup bottle open and drenching his pancake with the sweet syrup. “Want?” He asks you. “No thank you.” 

He sits down on his chair and picks up his fork. You watched him closely as he cut a piece of the pancake with the side of his fork, the smile never washing away from his face. “Did you have a good dream or…?” He laughed, stabbing the piece of the cut pancake with his fork. “Guess you could say that.” He looked at you, a flash of yellow ignited in one of his eyes. You blink and his eye is back to normal. You shake your head, brushing it off as your mind tricking you. “Okay?” You looked down to your plate, the fluffy pancake suddenly looking unappetizing. The whiplash of his sudden change in attitude really struck you hard. You pushed the plate away from you, taking in a breath through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat later, okay?” You got up and headed to your room before Ford could respond. 

“That was weird, wasn’t it, Sixer?!” A voice boomed in his head. Ford jumped, dropping his fork. “Can you give me a heads up when you do that?” He grumbled under his breath, recollecting himself. “Oops! Sorry,” Bill laughed loudly in his head. “Heads up!” He warns.

“There’s no point if you say it after.” Ford mumbles, grabbing his fork to continue eating his breakfast. “You humans and their foods,” Ford could imagine Bill rolling his eye. “Hurry up or else I’m going to rip my eye out of boredom!” 

Months ticked by and Ford was still strung up on building a portal. When you’d ask him about it, he would vaguely respond by saying; “This will break the boundaries between our worlds!” And continued to mumble incoherently to himself, pacing around the room as he stewed in his thoughts. He also began to collect weird art of this godly being. His lab was shrouded with tapestries, paintings and statues of a yellow triangle. Questioning about the art led you nowhere. Ford would act like it wasn’t such a big deal and make it seem like you’re the crazy one for finding an issue with his sudden obsession with this triangle. You just pinned it as him obsessively worshiping whatever this god is. As long as it doesn’t get too out of hand. 

Even if he was knee deep in his work, he still managed to find some time to spend time with you. Outings were pretty common and you made it known that you appreciate him stepping out of his little man dungeon just to spend some time with you. 

Everything was going good for Ford and you. He was slowly reaching his answer he’s been desperately looking for this whole time and you were happy to see him in such high spirits all the time. Not that he never was! He just seems more confident in himself, like he knows his self-worth. You wondered what exactly happened to him to make him so assured of himself. 

Although, there would be times where his usual outgoing spirit was washed out for weeks at a time, even months. You were always there to cheer him up, to ground him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay during those times. You never thought much of it, just chalking it up as him going through mental exhaustion. It made the most sense to you. After all, he practically spends most of his day going out to that UFO crash landing site to collect scraps for the portal. There’s days where he’s all beaten and bruised and you’re left to take care of his wounds. You pestered him like a mother would to their child. 

Ford sat down on the couch with a loud sigh, unbeknownst to him, you were in the kitchen browsing the cabinets for any snacks when Ford started mumbling to himself. “My muse,” He says. “Gone without a word once again.” He groans. You could hear him take off his glasses and place them somewhere. “Muse?” You whispered under your breath. You waited for him to say anything else that you can latch on to, but unfortunately for you, the TV sparked to life. Latest news reports filled the room and you were left stumped with new information.Was this supposed muse the reason why he gets all sad and anxious? Is this Muse a partner he hasn’t introduced you to yet? Your head is thick of conspiracies and feasible reasons but it was cut short when Ford interrupted your thoughts by walking in. 

“Sweetie?” He’s surprised to see you in the kitchen, hunched over in thought. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Uh,” You look at the open cabinet, flipping your eyes between the cabinet and your dad. “Not long! I was…looking for snacks!” You grabbed a bag of chips. “Oookaayy?” He walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

Like a flash of lightning, your face is sprayed with Ford’s mouth water. “I’ll take that as a no,” You said, voice raspy. You waddle out of the kitchen, dripping water onto the floor. “I’m sorry, kiddo!” 

At some point, he needed a few extra hands to help assemble the machine. Ford chose you and an old friend of his, Fiddleford, to be his helpers. Meeting Fiddleford was a delight. He’s a kind hearted soul who had the brains of a genius. When there were slow days in building the portal, he’d play a song on the banjo to lighten up the mood. You all grew close as time went on and you felt like you had your own little family. You cherished every laugh, smile and conversation that passed between you and the others. 

“What songs can you play?” You ask Fiddleford who was strumming the strings of his banjo without any thought. Catching his attention, he takes in your question. He considered his answer for a minute or so. “I don’t think it’s a song you’d know.” He says, beginning to play the opening tune on his instrument. “I know Ford will know this one though!” He smirks, head craning over to Ford who was drawing the outline for the portal. As Fiddleford smoothed into the middle of the song, Ford was turned over on his chair, head swaying to the beat. Once the song came to a close, the lab erupted in rounds of applause. “Thank you, thank you all!” 

“I remember that song all too well.” Ford grins. You furrowed your brows. “I’m curious. Why do you two know the song?” Your finger switching between Ford and Fiddleford. “There’s nothin’ really special behind it,” Fiddleford lightly shrugs. “I just played this song whenever Ford had trouble concentrating on his work.” 

“And it worked?” Ford nodded his head. “Worked seamlessly.” 

You weren’t surprised when Fiddleford would start playing the song whenever Ford was stressed out. 

June 15th rolled by, Ford’s birthday! You and Fiddleford secretly planned a surprise party for him, something small between the three of you to remind him how much you and Fiddleford love him. You knew he never was a fan of his birthday. Celebrating one without his twin grew harder each year, but you seemed to lessen the ache in his heart and with Fiddleford a part of the little family now, his birthday surely won't be as bittersweet! 

Walking over to his lab, you felt your shoe press against something squishy. Looking down to the floor, you saw a pile of dead rats that spelled out his name. The one you stepped on was flattened, mouth hung open as its bloodied guts pool out of it. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards in disgust and horror. 

The door to Ford’s lab flew open, a concerned Ford stood behind it. “Kiddo, are you alriighht…?” His words trailed off into the air, his attention now shifted to the pile of dead rats on the ground. “What the…?” His eyes flicker between you and the rats. He looks equally horrified and disgusted. “I’m gonna get something to clean—“ A gag interrupts you. “To clean that up!” You said in a hurried flash, hands cupping your mouth as you scurried away from the scene. 

When you came back with a mask covering your nose and mouth, disinfectant spray, a broom and a trash bag; You saw Ford sweetly smiling at the pack of dead rats. “Uh, dad?” Why was he looking at the rats like that? His head flew up, eyes locking with yours. “Oh, kiddo! Th-Thanks! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.” He says, grabbing the cleaning product and broom. 

“Uh, okay? Me and Fiddleford are upstairs. We made you something.” You tell him, fidgeting with your fingers. A quick “mhm,” leaves him and you’re left to walk back to the kitchen, a little weirded out by his smile. “Did you clean it up?” Fiddleford asked, adding the finishing touches to the cake. “dad’s cleaning it up. He was acting weird though,” You look at the cake. Gorgeously decorated with white frosting all by Fiddleford’s amazing handiwork. “Weird in what way?” He curiously asked. “Like, there was a pile of dead rats that formed his name and he was disgusted at first, but when I came back with cleaning supplies he looked…” You stop, searching for the word in your head. “Touched?” Your voice high pitched with uncertainty “He looked at the rats as if they were a gift almost.” 

“Now ain’t that something.” He looks at you with a shake of his head. “Listen, I love your dad but he’s been actin’ weird.” He pushes his glasses up, setting the piping bag aside. “I sometimes catch him talking to himself. I knew to a certain degree he talked to himself, but I don’t remember it being that bad.” 

“I notice that too, do you think it’s that–” 

“What is all of this?” Ford asked, amusement trailing his voice. The conversation between you and Fiddleford evaporated in thin air and was replaced with you and him both yelling out, “Happy Birthday!”

His birthday went smoothly and perfect in your eyes, if you ignore the hiccup from earlier. Your dad was laughing heartily at what Fiddleford told him, drinks in both of their hands. Plates of eaten cake were left on the table, confetti was strewn about and you were more than satisfied with you and Fiddleford’s work. You watched as the pair happily conversed with each other, sharing old memories of college together. As the mini party came to a close, Ford turned to you as he hugged Fiddleford goodbye. “Thank you for this, truly. I needed this.” Hugging him, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime, dad.” You smiled.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. The small little town of Gravity Falls was celebrating the festive cheer by blasting music from every corner and littering their house with decorations. Something you also partook in. Standing on top of the very tall ladder, you decorated the roof with Christmas tree shaped lights. 

“Kiddo!” 

Looking down, you saw Ford waving at you. “Hi, Dad!” You wave back, slowly ascending down the ladder. Once you reached the bottom, Ford had shoved a snowglobe and a 6-fingered mitten your way. “Look at what Fiddleford made me.” Ford beamed, a small hue of pink flushing his cheeks. You picked up the snowglobe and shook it. You watched in awe as the glittery snow cascaded down to the bottom. “He’s so good at making things.” You say, handing back the adorable snow globe. “And a six fingered mitten?” You slipped the glove on. It covered your whole hand and almost up to your forearm due to how big it was.

“Give me that.” Ford chuckled, removing the mitten off your hand with a swipe. “That’s so sweet.” You say, seeing Ford bleed out utter joy. “And look what he got you!” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a picture frame. Within the frame was a photo of you, Ford and Fiddleford at Gravity Falls local park. All three of you were stupidly posing in the photo, faces pulled in different ways to make the weirdest face ever. The frame was decorated with a mini wreath and tinsel. On the back, he wrote “To my family,” with a tiny heart scribbled as a period. “He thinks of us as his family!” You held the picture frame close to your chest. “dad! I’m going to cry. This is so sweet.” 

“He’s one of a kind.” He says, staring at his gifts longingly. “Where is he? I need to go thank him.” Your eyes search around the premise. “I’m afraid you’re too late, kiddo.”

“What?” You quickly turned around. “Is he dead?!” You practically yelled out. “What? No, no.” He shook his head. “He’s out of town. Spending time with his wife.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Why did you say it like that!” You shoved his shoulder with your hand. He let out a snort. “Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands up defensively. “Whatever,” You said jokingly. “Are you done decorating the house?” He wonders, peering his head up to see the lights flashing on the roof. “Not quite. I still need to decorate the front porch and such. Wanna help?” Ford didn’t hesitate to agree. He grabbed your gift and placed it inside where it was safe and started helping you decorate.

Wordlessly, you disappeared into the house for a moment. Ford was puzzled but it all made sense when he heard loud Christmas music grow near. The door burst open and there you were, radio in hand with a multitude of DVD’s in the other. “I had to play some music.” 

“Just don’t play the songs Fiddleford plays!” 

“Those are the exact songs I’m playing.” A groan was heard from Ford and you had to stifle a laugh. That day was spent entirely accessorizing the whole house. The next few days progressed nicely. The christmas spirit was thick in the atmosphere and nothing could shatter it. And as if it was a Christmas miracle, Ford had told you that Fiddleford came back earlier than intended due to relationship problems back home. He also slid in that he had just met The Krampus before crashing down on the couch. The next hour was you trying to shake your dad up from his slumber to get the full story. How could he drop the mention that he met Krampus and knock out like that?  

Later that day, Ford was magically possessed by the spirit of Christmas and chose to decorate the portal with lights and a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner. “What’s all this?” You point towards the portal that was covered in flashing lights. “I just wanted to make the place look festive.” There was another reason why he did this and you read him all too well.

“I bet it’s for Fiddleford.” You tease. He scoffed, waving you off. “I may or may not have called him over.” You squeal, hugging Ford with all your might. “Is this how having a full family feels like?” 

“What! Did you not like when Christmas was just us two?” He took your comment very personally, even though a smidgen of him thought the same thing. “No. I loved it, but it’s nice to share the festivities with someone else.” 

After a bit of waiting around, a knock resounded through the house. Ford perks up from his chair. “That’s him!” He exclaims. Quickly turning to you, he throws the remote to the lights to you. “When we walk in, turn on the light and throw the christmas confetti.” He instructs you. 

“You can count on me!” You said, puffing out your chest. Hiding behind the wall, you heard Ford’s footsteps lull to whisper. Quiet chatter was heard and soon, the footsteps drew near. Your finger hovered the On button. You overheard a tiny little yelp and the sound of something unraveling. Looking towards the portal, you saw a little gnome hanging upside down by his foot. 

“Oh, c’mon!” You smack your head. You didn’t have time to unwrap the lights off his ankle. Mouthing a “hold on!” to the gnome, you watched as Ford and Fiddleford’s shadow crept into view. You smashed your fingers on the On button, the lights flickering to life. 

A gasp left Fiddleford. “First you decorate the house and now the portal? Gee, Ford! And to think I thought you were a mini grinch.” He jested, delivering a slight punch to Ford’s arm. “I’m glad you like it, Fiddleford.” He said softly. He then coughed to his hand, his eyes moving to the general direction where you were at. “Imagine if we had CONFETTI thrown at us. That would be AWESOME.”

Your eyes widen. You forgot the confetti! Jumping right in front of them, you threw the ball of confetti in their face. Your vision was full of confetti fluttering down. When it cleared out, you saw Ford’s unimpressed face and Fiddleford’s large smile. He cracked into full blown laughter, hunched over as Ford coughed out confetti from his mouth. “Really?”

“Oops?” You awkwardly laugh. 

“Is that a gnome?” Ford points over to the gnome who waved at him enthusiastically. “Ignore him…” You said quietly.

Half of the cold night was spent warmly tucked in the lab, all huddled up behind blankets and hot cocoa in hands. Sooner or later, they swapped out their hot cocoa with nog. They both told you stories from their past together, stemming from embarrassing stories to really heartfelt ones. Each story either had you hooked on every word that left their mouth or a messy ball of tears. 

“You know,” Ford begins, leaning back, looking at Fiddleford and you adoringly. “Maybe we should stop building the portal.” 

Shock strikes you and Fiddleford. “What happened to making scientific history?” He asks. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to make history but…” His eyes trail to the portal.  “I just want to spend time with my favorite people in the world outside of this lab.” His fingers tapped the floor mindlessly. “I have people around me who love me. Why waste that, you know?” 

“Am I goin’ crazy?” Fiddleford whispers to you. “I think it’s the nog talking.” You whisper back.

“I can hear you guys talking!” 

Facing Ford, Fiddleford had a light blush on his cheeks. “You tell me I’m the sappy one but I think I’m rubbin’ off on ya,” He nudges him. “Don’t make me take back what I said.” He threatens with no actual meaning behind it. 

“Why don’t we go outside to build snowmen? That way I can see you wear that six-fingered glove I tirelessly worked on.” Fiddleford suggested. Liking the idea, Ford got up to his feet. He lent out a hand to Fiddleford who graciously took his hand. “Last one to go outside is a rotten eggnog!”

You and the boys rush to their respective rooms, hastily changing out of their thin long sleeves to their thick jackets and pants. Throwing the door to your room open, you stumbled out of the house and onto the snow where you tripped. Laughter sounded around you. Lifting your head up from the fluffy snow, you saw Ford and Fiddleford already out, all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold. “No way!” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Yes way!” Ford said. 

The other half of the night was spent building snowmen, making snow angels and snowball fights. You tapped out after a while, hugging the both of them closely. “Best day ever!” You said, throwing some snow in the air. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.” His hand patted your back, giving you a kiss on your temple. Fiddleford ruffled your hair endearingly.

“Night, guys. Don’t go too crazy on the nog!” They did exactly what you told them not to do.

A month passed and you believed everything was going alright, you thought everyone was getting along but something happened to Ford a few weeks ago. He’s been more paranoid now, snapping at you or Fiddleford and erratically going off on tangents of how he needs to finish the portal. The talk of discarding the portal many nights ago was lost to the wind. Now it rested as some silly little pipe dream. 

Fiddleford was noticeably putting less and less effort in the project. You’d often find him daydreaming on his desk, mind far away from the lab. Your work was beginning to become sloppy, head full of thoughts and worries. You stressed over the thought of how everything was just fine a few weeks ago. Now it was slowly falling apart.

You were taking a break outside of the lab when Fiddleford stormed out. His face pinched with a mix of anger and sadness. “Fiddleford?” You rushed to your feet, running over to him. “Fiddleford, what happened?” You stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. His lip trembled, looking off to the side. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Go ask your dad since he’s so keen on yellin’ at me.” 

Your heart drops to your stomach. Your dad did what? “D-Do you wanna stay here? I-I can talk to him and you guys can make up or something!” Your words stumbled over each other. You can see your whole world crumbling down right in front of you and it was all because of your dad. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ma head home now.” A somber yet reassuring smile pulled to his lips.

“I’m going to talk to him, I promise.” You tell him with a firm nod to your head. “Thank you.” His voice was weak, something you’ve never heard from him before. You brought him into a hug, squeezing him before letting him go. He wished you a good afternoon and left, leaving you alone to deal with your dad.

You sucked in a deep breath and trudged towards the lab. Walking in, you saw Ford pacing around anxiously, a scramble of words tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed. “Dad?” His head snaps to you, a light yellow glow in his eye. The same one you saw almost one year ago. He blinked and suddenly it was gone. “What do you want, kiddo?” His tone was harsh and clipped.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You cower a bit. His anxious energy and rude tone shook you to your core. He’s never talked to you with such anger before. “Are you here because of what happened between Fiddleford and me?” He inquired, taking a step towards you. Seeing his face better, you could see that it was pulled into an irritated scowl. “What happened, dad?” 

“He was going through my stuff! Without my permission!” He said, his hands cupped towards him, directing them at himself. “And to think I trusted him!” 

“He probably got the cabinets mixed up or something.” You shrug, not getting the whole show he’s throwing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “You don’t understand.” 

“Understand what?” Your lips quivered. You felt so little compared to him. He towered over you with such burning anger you couldn’t process that he was your dad. “You don’t understand what’s going inside my head!” He jabs his finger to his temple repeatedly. “You can’t trust anyone, especially him!” 

“This is Fiddleford we’re talking about, Dad! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” You said. You couldn’t grasp the words that were coming out of his mouth. Since when did he start doubting Fiddleford’s loyalty? What planted this ridiculous idea into his head? Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“So explain to me why he was rummaging through my belongings!”

“I’m not Fiddleford, I can’t answer that question!” 

Ford scoffed, he opened his mouth to say something when it faltered close. He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts when he took a step back. His expression screamed betrayal. “Unless you’re siding with him to work against me.” He murmured, eyes narrowed at you.

Your stomach twisted into knots. “Seriously?” Your voice wavered. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to suppress your cries. When you opened your eyes, you were locked on a tapestry of that yellow triangle. That’s when it all clicked. Swallowing your sorrows, you pointed to the tapestry. 

“That triangle,” You start. “Ever since you started hanging up those stupid paintings or whatever, you’ve been acting strange in all kinds of ways.” You walk over to it, fingertips brushing the material. Ford eyes you warily. “Is this your Muse I hear you talk to yourself about?” Your fingers wrap around the tapestry. 

“Don’t.” His finger pointed at you. You felt like you were a kid again, being disciplined by him for acting irresponsible, for breaking something you shouldn’t have. It made the reality of the situation a lot more serious. This wasn’t something that Ford could shrug off due to your poor impulse control. This is something you chose to do. “Please don’t.” He begged, his eyes glossing over with tears. 

You yanked it, ripping it in half. Ford reached out to grab the ripped tapestry but you were too quick. You moved to the side and observed the art designed on it. A flying yellow triangle was depicted as the saving grace of our world. In the background there were people on their knees, while some stood behind them. What stood out to you the most was their eyes yellow, their pupils replaced with a black straight line. You’ve seen those yellow eyes before. You turn your head over to Ford, your heart crushing against your chest. You could barely recognize the man in front of you. He had deep dark eye bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes had dark crimson veins that irritated his eyes. His hair was disheveled and his chin had little stubbles of hair growing out. 

“What is this?” The back of your hand smacks against the tapestry. “Who is this? Why am I just making sense of all of this now?” You shoot questions at him like rapid bullets. “Why haven’t you told me anything about this?” 

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” He says, voice low. “I don’t want you to jeopardize our main goal.”

“What main goal, Dad?” You shot back. “The one you said you didn’t want to do anymore because you didn’t want to lose track of what’s in front of you?” Your hands clenched the tapestry. “I changed my mind.” Ford rubs his forehead, looking away from your eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. “Clearly!” You stared at him for a moment. “Why?” He looks over to you, his face riddled with exhaustion. You soften your tone and repeat it. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He responds. “Did the triangle guy give you shit for it?” You watch as he winces. Right on the dot. So this entity, this being, it speaks to him. “Does he talk to you?” He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure that the information he’s sharing is allowed to be told. “Dad…” You drop the tapestry. “What have you gotten yourself into?” 

A prolonged silence entraps you and him. You stare at him and he stares at you and he looks so terribly conflicted with himself. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong. He pushes his glasses up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to get out of my lab.” 

“What?” Your whole body tingles with cold chills. You can’t tell if he's joking or not. He has to be joking, right? There’s no way he’s demanding you to leave, right? “Dad I—“

“—I said that you need to leave. Why haven’t you done that already?” His voice is dangerously low. His irritation seeps deeply into his words and punches you right in the heart. You open your mouth, ready to protest, ready to fight with whatever energy you had left in you but closed it. 

You backed out. 

Kicking the tapestry over to him, you forcefully knock your shoulders with him as you leave. Hot tears escaped your eyes as you ran to your room, shutting the door of your room.

Ford sighs out, despair riddling his body. “And you’re sure that [Name] and Fiddleford devised a plan to turn off the portal?” He asked Bill who floated in front of him. Bill flicked his hand down. “Don’t you worry, pal! You did the right thing.” A distant look was evident on Ford’s face. 

“You do a good job at listening to me, you know that, Fordsy?” Ford could only grumble in response. 

Bill spun around to face the portal  “When do you think this portal can turn on?” 

“Tomorrow.” Ford firmly says. “Do you think you can rally those two knuckleheads tomorrow? You need a test dummy afterall!” 

“I might be able to.”

The morning blooms to life and you’re left rotting on the bed, not wanting to move from the only place that provided you constant comfort. Hours pass by when you hear Fiddleford’s voice. You sprung up from the bed. What is he doing here? Making a beeline to the bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and hurry on down to the living room. They’re nowhere to be seen. 

You rush to the lab and open the door. The ground shifts as the portal powers to life. You watch as they approach the roaring portal, test dummy in hand. What happens next all happens too fast. Fiddleford’s wrist got tied to rope that was on the test dummy and got pulled along with it, his head getting sucked in. You run over to your dad, hands latching on to the rope that was conveniently on his ankle. Together, you and Ford pull him back in. You fall back to the floor. Fiddleford violently trembles as he speaks some garbled nonsense. 

“Fiddleford?” 

He sits up, staring blankly ahead of him. “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with one eye!”

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself. You’re not making any sense!” Ford reached out to Fiddleford but he flinched away before he could. “This machine is dangerous,” He states, hugging his arm. “You’ll bring about the ends of the world with this!” He grabs onto Ford’s shoulder. “Destroy it before it destroys us all!”

“I can’t, Fiddleford. This is my life's work!” 

Fiddleford looks down to the floor. “I fear we unleashed a grave danger on the world.” He looks petrified. Whatever he saw on the other hand has mentally taken a toll on him within a matter of seconds. He looks up to Ford, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not gonna ask again.” His body tremors in fear. “You need to destroy the machine, Ford. Please, I beg of you.”

“Fiddleford. I can’t just throw this all away.” Ford says. 

Fiddleford studies his face, hoping that a part of Ford was lying. But when Ford’s stern face unwavering, Fiddleford broke. “Then I quit.” He stands up from the floor, his eyes gazing at you one last time before he marches out of the lab, leaving you and Ford stunned. 

“Fear the beast with one eye,” You echoed, your mind instantly flashing to the image of the yellow triangle Ford has everywhere. Ford had seemed to make the same revelation. He shuffles to his feet, still shaken up by what had just happened, he stumbles a bit as he goes back inside the lab, pulling out his journal 3 notebook. “Shut off the portal!” He commands. 

You don’t waste a second getting up and switching off every knob, lever and button. Sneaking careful glances to Ford, you can see him writing, his pressure on the pencil is so hard that the words he writes come out thick and black. You just stand there and watch him visibly break down, his mental health deteriorating as the minutes go on. 

“I need to destroy the portal and burn the journals,” He finally speaks up after a long minute. “And we’re leaving Gravity Falls once I deal with everything.” He slammed the book shut and tucked it inside his coat. “We’re what? Leaving Gravity Falls?” You follow him closely as he leaves the lab, eyes clouded over with fear. “It’s not safe here, [Name].” 

The whole day is such a messy blur. Too overwhelmed with your emotions you couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. You were still hung up on the fact Fiddleford left. The look in his eyes will be forever ingrained in your memory. Everything around you is falling apart and you can’t seem to pick up the pieces and fix it. Sleep was unachievable. Closing your eyes would replay the memories of what happened hours prior. 

Footsteps approached your room, but they weren’t the ones you were familiar with. These were messy and uncoordinated. Bangs of someone slamming against the wall shook your room and before you could have any time to react, your door whips open, revealing Ford. You breathe out in relief. It was just your dad.

Ford’s head pulls up as if it’s being controlled by a string and stares you down with a wide smile. His comforting brown eyes weren’t there anymore. Instead, they glowed a disgusting yellow. His pupils were a black slit and you felt your blood run cold and the world around you stopping. You felt like a fool to think you were safe. 

“Nice to finally meet you!” Another person’s voice spoke using your dad’s mouth. “Names Bill, Bill Cipher!” He hung out his hand for you to shake. Your body felt like cement was encased in your veins, preventing you from moving. His eyes switched from his hand to yours a few times before pulling his hands back. “I see you don’t do handshakes. I get it! You’re probably thinking where’s my dad right now? What is inside of him? What is going ooonnn?!” He lets out a laugh. “Right? You’re thinking that?” 

Your voice dies in your throat, your words failing you. “Hmm, maybe I chose the wrong day to come out…Should I have done it tomorrow?” He thinks out loud, tapping his finger on his chin, exactly the way your dad did. “Well, too late to think about what could’ve happened!” He jolts towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist. You break out of your trance “Let go of me!” You screech. Your fist clenched, ready to blow a punch to Bill’s arm when it hit you, this is your dad’s body. Any injury you inflict on Bill is also harming your dad. “What? Are you too scared to hit me because I’m in Ford’s body?” A cackle leaves Bill. “This will make this so much easier then!”

“Make what easier?” Not knowing what Bill was scheming made everything feel so much scarier. “I’m breaking into Sixer’s lab! But I just need your help.” A warm sensation drips onto your hand and slides down to your arm. You feel bile climb up your throat when you see that it was blood seeping out of the various open wounds Bill had given to Ford on his knuckles. “W-what did you do?!” The wounds weren’t deep, but the skin was ripped open and Bill dragging you down to the lab only peeled the skin open even more. “Just tried bashing the door down. Is it obvious that it didn't work?” 

You reached the lab’s door. Blood was smudged on the door, some dripping down to the floor. The strong scent of metal hung in the air and you could feel your stomach churning. “Unfortunately for me, Sixer can be a real genius at times. He implemented this stupid security system so I couldn’t get in!” Bill’s other hand grips your hair. “It won’t work with my eye, but it’ll work with youuurss!” His hand in your hair pushes your head towards the eye scanner. You yelp out in pain. “Oh, stop complaining!” His finger pressed a button and the scanner began inspecting your eye, before it could do a proper scan you screwed your eyes shut. “Oh no you don’t.” Bill pries your eye open and starts the scanner all over again. You tried struggling against it, but his boot stomped down on your ankle, twisting it sideways. “I just wanted to do that!” You screamed in agony, tears pouring out of your eyes. 

A loud beep sounded and you thought you were granted access when Bill cursed under his breath. He throws you against the wall, you head knocking against it. “So useless!” He delivers a punch to the door. “I will get access to that portal.” He shoots over to you, a large toothy smile that spreads ear to ear unnaturally took over Ford’s face. “Or maybe I can think of other ways to convince him to–” His eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls back. “Dad!” You crawl over to him, hands on his cheeks as you watch his eyes flutter open. No longer were they yellow. 

“Oh, thank god!” You wrap him in a hug, tears falling down your face. “D-Did I fall asleep?” Ford slurred out. As Ford’s surroundings came back to him, his face scrunches up when he’s assaulted with the stench of blood. “[Name], what happened?” 

“Bill tried breaking into the lab to use the portal.” You say, giving him a squeeze before giving him space. “Did he get in?” He groans as he sits up, body terribly sore. “No, he didn’t.” His eyesight focuses on you, eyes blowing wide when he sees blood staining your hand and arm. “Did he hurt you?” He grabs onto your hand, looking for any damage. “He didn’t make me bleed. Just gave me a tiny concussion and a twisted ankle probably.” 

Ford stays silent for a moment, his head replaying your words. Anger boiled in his chest as he thought of the ways he hurt you while he was possessing his body. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine!” You assure. “I’m more worried about your knuckles.” You say, looking at the splintering skin. “My knuckles?” He casts his gaze over his knuckles and winces at the sight. “He does not know when to give up.” 

The rest of the night was you patching Ford up and him patching you up. Conversation floated between you and him as if the previous days were nothing but a nightmare. That’s when he unloaded everything about Bill onto you, from the moment they made the deal to when the portal was revealed to be nothing but a way for Bill to take over Earth. You could see the remorse on his face as he talked, speaking on how he felt so stupid for falling into his tricks, believing the lies he told and how he almost caused a rift between the two of you. You already figured out most of what he told you prior to the conversation, but having it proven to be true and not baseless guesses was astounding. 

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting for the past year.” He says, holding you tightly to his chest. “It’s okay, Dad. You were under his influence and believed him more than you believed yourself.” You tell him. 

From then on out, you and Ford searched for anything that’ll help defeat Bill. Ford stumbled across a book with armor that was supposed to keep Bill out of the mind. The machinery was horribly outdated but by growing on their ideas, you and Ford had a solid outline of a modern alternative. Assembling it was another story. 

“Does this go here or here?” 

“No..I think it goes here?” 

The idea was scrapped and Ford was back to square one. Without Fiddleford’s brilliance in machinery, the protective armor was pretty much unachievable. And right before you knew it, the inevitable came. Ford fell asleep. You walked into his room with what you originally thought was him hunched over his desk, sticky notes stuck to every part of the wall and desk. Bill heard you walk in and shot up from his chair. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Bill approached you with open arms.

“What are you doing, Bill?” You tried your best to sound menacing but your voice betrayed you. “I’m just trying to convince your dad to talk to me again. Do you think that’s possible?” He grabs your arm and pulls you to the desk. “Or maybe shedding your blood on the post-it notes would fasten the process?” His hands dig in the cabinet, pulling up a box cutter. You watch in horror as the blade pops out. “My blood won’t solve anything!” You said, trying to yank your arm away from his grip but it was too tight. “Then should I spill your blood and his?” He has the blade to your arm and you do your very best to stay still. Any movement and you'll surely rip some skin open. You sit in a pool of your own anxiety, waiting for Bill to slash your arm open but he never does. He drops the box cutter and shoves you. “Doing that will only make him hate me even more!” He yells, bashing his head on the wall repeatedly. 

“Hey!” You pull him back by the shoulder. “Are you trying to give yourself a headache!” Bill ignores you and sits back down on the chair, obsessively writing post-it notes where he begs for Ford’s forgiveness. And for a while, that’s how they communicated. Through notes. At some point, the whole room was covered in writings of both Bill and Ford. When that didn’t work, he tapped a snake to Ford’s journal. It was back and forth of childish antics between the two of them.

The more this progressed the more sleep deprived Ford became, the more paranoid he grew. “There’s no other options left.” He said, running his hands down his head. “I was stupid to believe I could defeat Bill and I thought Fiddleford would’ve had something, but he didn’t. Just a ripped up picture of us from college.” In his hands were the two pieces of the photo. You reached a dead end and you’re not sure if you can escape this one. “Has Fiddleford answered your calls?” He asks, thumb caressing the photo of Fiddleford. 

“He answered.” You crack your fingers. “He, uh…Doesn’t remember us.” 

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember us?” 

“I don’t know, he just asked who I was and why I kept calling. And when I told him about you and me he said I got the wrong person and hung up.” Heartbreak, after heartbreak. Nothing good seemed to come out of this situation and you were growing tired of all of it. You haven’t even gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air. You were too afraid Bill was lurking, waiting for you to be alone so he could find a twisted way to convince Ford to be on his side again.

Ford clenched the hand where the photo of himself was. Tears dripped from his eyes and down to the floor. “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, kiddo.” He says. “You didn’t know that this was going to be the outcome, Dad. It’s okay.” You pull him for a hug. “I was so obsessed with finding answers that I–” Ford stopped himself with a garbled sob. “You didn’t know, Dad.” This was all too real, all too scary. You didn’t even want to think about how it would end. 

The months passed through your fingers and before you could sit back and relax, winter was here. Your favorite season. You were unsure on how to feel. The last winter was filled with memories to remember but thinking back on them only brought a chill to your heart. One day, a knock was heard from outside. “Dad!” You run over to get him, your heart bashing against your ribcage. “There’s someone at the door.” A year prior to this, you would’ve been more than happy to open the door, but considering what has happened the last few months, anything that dealt with leaving home was mind numbingly terrifying. “It’s okay. If anything happens, hide in the lab.” 

Arming himself with a crossbow, he opened the door. Aiming the crossbow at the person in front of him. “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” A gruff voice spoke. “Stanley,” Ford drops the crossbow. “Did anyone follow you, anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Ford grabs him by the collar and pulls him in, shutting the door behind him. “[Name], flashlight please! And hurry!” Ford holds out his hand and you place the flashlight you found discarded on the floor in his hand. “W-What? Who?” Ford flashes the lights in his eyes. “Ah! Hey,” The man in the beanie pushes Ford’s hands down. “What is this?” Then his eyes trail over to you. “And who is this?” The gears turn in his head and his eyebrows furrow in shock. “You have a kid!” 

“That’s not the point.” Ford urged him to come in. He followed, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi, Uncle.” You nervously waved at him. “Does he talk about me?” Stan asks but he was pulled away from you before you could answer. Ford began spilling to him how he couldn’t trust no one, no one except him. Collecting all the books in his hands he went to the portal, you and Stan behind. 

Showing him the portal, he explained how he’s the only person he could trust with the last notebook. He tells Stan to sail far away to keep the book from getting into the wrong hands. ”That’s it?” Stan clenches the book in his hand, a scowl on his face. “I finally get to see you after 17 years and the first thing you tell me is to get as far away from you as possible?” 

“Stanley, you don't understand what we’re up against. What we’ve been through!” Ford walks past Stan, his hand gripping his hair. “We? C’mon, Stanford. Don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.” 

An argument unfolded and no matter how hard you tried to stop them from fighting, they continued on. It got to the point where it got physical and where Stan got injured. Ford came to his side, asking if he was okay. Stan, overrun by anger pushed him, Ford’s back slamming against the lever which powered on the portal. Your stomach drops. Last time that portal was on, you lost Fiddleford, you can’t lose your dad too. 

Shoving the book into Ford’s chest was the last straw that broke the bridge. The portal sucked up Ford, suspended in the air he threw the book towards Stan. You ran over to grab your dad but he was too far beyond your reach. Your breathing was quickened and your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Uncle Stan, do something!” 

“Stanley, do something!” 

His name was being shouted in his ears, overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do. Ford was fully sucked in and the portal shut off, blasting you and Stan back. When you recovered from the initial blast, you got up to your feet and grabbed the switch. You pulled with all your might, but nothing worked. “Uncle Stan!” You sobbed out. “Do something, please! Help me!” 

“K-Kid, I…” He walks towards you. His words were failing him, he didn’t know what to say. He had just ripped your father away from you and he lost his brother. Not knowing what else to do, he wraps you in a hug as you painfully sob into his jacket. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” 

@catr4dora @squ4respace i hope u guys liked it!! i wrote it with u guys in mind LMFAO and if u didn't im so sorry gulp

[bitchlessdino]

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight. 

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed.  “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively. 

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer. 

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already. 

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim. 

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out. 

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house. 

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe. 

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.” 

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated.  Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people. 

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still. 

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…” 

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top. 

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.” 

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp. 

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted. 

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[lucyandthepen]

last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.  

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.  

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off. 

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.  

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.  

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.  

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.  

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.  

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.  

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”  

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”  

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”  

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”  

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.  

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.  

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.  

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.  

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately. 

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”  

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”  

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.  

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.  

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”  

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”  

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”  

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”  

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.  

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.  

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.  

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.  

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”  

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”  

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”  

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”  

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”  

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.  

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”  

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.   

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.  

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.  

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.  

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.  

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”  

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”  

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”  

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”  

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.  

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.  

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.  

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.  

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.  

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.  

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.  

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.  

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”  

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”  

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.  

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.  

“You love me, right?”  

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.  

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.  

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”  

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”  

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.  

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”  

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”  

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”  

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”  

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”  

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”  

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”  

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.  

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”  

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.  

“You know I love you, right?”  

You smile slightly. “No but?”  

“No but,” he agrees.  

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.  

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”  

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.  

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.  

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.  

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.  

[mentally-gone002]

secret escape

part 3! here is part 1 and part 2

summary: reader stays over at steve’s house… that’s it…

warnings: some 18+ activities😏, p in v (unprotected… PLS WRAP B4 YOU TAP), some swearing

a/n: OKAY SOOOOO FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SMUTTTT!!!!! (pls lmk if it sucks ass lmaoooo😭) but once again like in part 2, my wifey poo helped me through this entire fic and i’m so proud of her for all of this so once again a big thank you to her for making this possible!!!!

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“can you cover for me tonight?” dustin burst into his sisters room without a knock. she lurched forwards in surprise, griping the phone in her hand tightly. 

“can i call you back?” she asked who she was calling before dropping the phone down onto the receiver. “don’t you know how to knock?” she asked in annoyance. 

he rolled his eyes. “can you or not?” his question made her eyebrows furrow in confusion. he sighed and reminded her. “i need you to cover for me.” 

she shook her head. “no, because i’m already going somewhere tonight.” dustin groaned in disbelief. “what would you need me to cover for you for anyway? it’s not like you have a girlfriend.” she wondered. 

dustin looked away as he bit his tongue at the interrogation. “my friends want to go see dune, but ms. buyers won’t let will go, so we’re sneaking out to see it.” he explained quickly, checking over his shoulder a few times to make sure their mom wouldn’t overhear. 

his sister scoffed and rolled her eyes. “sounds fun, but again, i can’t because i’m going out.” 

“with who?” he inquired with arms crossed over his chest. 

she looked away with an accompanied shrug. “tiffany, from school.” her reply was uttered without any eye contact which meant she was lying. “i’m staying at her house because i need girl time.” 

dustin nodded with a blank stare. he hummed before saying, “sure, tiffany.” he didn’t buy any of what she said. “does tiffany know she’ll be covering for you? because i know you’re going see steve.” 

she stared at him with wide eyes. “am not! also why can’t you just go see dune tomorrow night?” 

“you so are going to see him!” dustin countered, walking closer to try and boost his chances of making her cave. he knew she was easily intimidated, he just didn’t know if he could intimidate her. “and we can’t go see dune tomorrow night because tonight’s the last night it’s playing.” 

she rolled her eyes in exhaustion. “dustin… i’m sorry but i can’t cover for you.” she murmured while her hands ran over her face as an attempt on wiping away her annoyance. 

her brother kept standing there for a few seconds, his mind was racing for a new angle on this. “i’ll tell mom you were making out with steve in his car when you went to the arcade with me last week!” 

her eyes snapped open. “no you won’t!” she stood up, feeling herself get angry, and nervous. he wouldn’t tell their mom, would he? “that’s blackmail.” she told him. 

he nodded. “i’m aware. and i will tell her if you don’t do this for me.” he said. 

“tell me what?” their mom stepped into the doorway of her bedroom and looked between both her kids, making their bickering come to an abrupt ending followed by tense and awkward silence. she raised her eyebrows as if to say “well?” 

“nothing!” dustin blurted at the same time his sister said, “i’m dating steve harrington!” 

their mom looked shocked from their mingled voices. 

she looked at her daughter first. “did you say you’re dating steve harrington?” she asked. her daughter nodded with fleeting eye contact. she swallowed the lump in her throat and her mom turned to dustin. “can you give us a minute?” 

he nodded and quickly left the room but didn’t go far. he stopped after rounding the corner outside his sisters room and stood against the wall, listening. 

when her mom looked at her she just word vomited. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you when we first got together! i just remember telling you about how he wasn’t the best guy last year and the year before that, and i just didn’t want you to worry. but he’s changed, mom, he really has.” she felt like crying but resisted, blinking hard to suppress tears that dared to fall. “he’s a really amazing guy.” 

her mom walked to take a seat beside her daughter. “i don’t doubt that, hun.” she comforted, a hand on her daughters back. “i have to hear dustin talk about how great he is at least twice a week.” 

she laughed and looked at her mom. “he does talk about him a lot.” her eyes went back to the floor. “are you okay with me being with him?” 

her mom nodded. “of course i am, as long as you’re being safe and not doing anything crazy with him.” 

“i’m safe and i’m not being crazy, i promise.” she told her mom sincerely, although she wasn’t sure she could keep her promise since her friends and even her own safety was threatened only two months before. 

her mom stood up with a smile and walked to the door. dustin ran down the hall when he heard her approaching his position. “you’re still going to tiffany’s house tonight, right?” she wondered. 

her daughter nodded. “yeah. can i take your car since you’re off work tomorrow?” she asked, hoping she’d say yes. 

“yeah, i don’t see why not. just don’t crash.” she agreed. 

“okay i won’t.” she nodded, standing up to grab the bag she had packed for herself. she left her bedroom and put on her shoes and found the car keys. “i’ll be back tomorrow… afternoon.” she said before walking out the door and to the car.

she wasn’t going to tiffany’s house. of course dustin had known that but he didn’t even say anything as he watched her leave the house. 

she zoned out as she drove, using muscle memory to get to steve’s house. when she parked her heart started beating quickly at the thought of being completely alone for an entire night with her boyfriend. she bit her bottom lip before she left the safety of her car to walk to his front door and knock, waiting for the door to open. she rocked on her heels in anticipation. 

when steve heard a knock on the door he immediately went to open it, letting his eyes fall over her in an instant. he memorized her for the millionth time with a soft grin on his mouth. “hey.” he leaned against the door, walking it open wider so she could go inside. 

it was the first time she’s ever been inside his house so her eyes were wandering over this and that; family photos hanging on the white walls, fancy furniture and the shiny hardwood floors that stretched down the hall.

“wow.” she muttered, drawing an airy laugh from his mouth. “your house is really nice.” she looked at him with a smile. 

he closed the door and walked to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “you think so?” he wondered. he was so close to her that his soft lips ghosted her temple when he spoke. she nodded as goosebumps rose on her skin and her heartbeat began to speed up due to how close he was to her, and how his soft breath felt against her skin and because of the way his hand would gently squeeze at her waist subconsciously. 

her body turned slowly to face his, so close that if she inhaled enough air both of their chests would touch. she moved her hands, sliding them up his arms until they both stopped on his shoulders, giving her some leverage as she stood on tiptoes to press her lips to his. 

both of steve’s hands found purchase on her waist, his fingers occasionally digging into her skin gently due to how their lips danced together, slipping over each other with mixed saliva. he fought off the ever impending urge to sweep her off her feet and take her to his room, being mindful of how she might not want to even if she showed she did sometimes with the way she squeezed the thighs together or got so close he didn’t even know where she started and where he ended.

she pulled back for a brief second, just to gasp for air that her aching lungs had been screaming for. he was too addicting to pull away from sometimes. she noticed how swollen and kiss bitten his reddening lips were when she fluttered her eyes open. he kept his eyes closed, chest heaving and his hands slid down to her hips and squeezed at her skin once they stopped to settle. she felt her breath hitch and decided to capture his lips again, distracting herself from his touch with even more of him. 

he smiled into her mouth, deciding to slowly swipe his tongue over her bottom lip. he was almost begging to taste her with his heart racing and his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t. 

how does it feel to have all of her?

the thoughts were chased away when she granted him access past her soft lips. 

she gasped slightly when she felt his tongue against her, sliding together and twisting as they kept kissing. she couldn’t help but let a soft moan slip into the air. 

he pulled away, allowing her to breathe. she stared up at his eyes with an almost pleading expression. he smiled gently, moving one hand to caress her face. “c’mon.” he nodded his head to the side towards the carpeted stairs that took them upstairs when he started to lead her up to the second story. her hand squeezed his while she looked around at more pictures on the walls until he pulled her into a bedroom at the end of the hallway. his thumb twisted the lock even though his parents weren’t home. once the lock clicked he strayed away from her side, walking quickly to his dresser and placing a cassette tape into a radio to make music start playing softly. she grinned when he came back to her, his hands back to make her feel whole. he used one hand to bring her lips back to his while the other slowly moved under her shirt. she sighed into the feeling of his warm hand trailing over her bare skin and he smiled, deepening the kiss to let their tongues dance like they were minutes ago. 

she glided her hands up his chest over his shirt to fist the fabric of the collar with a tight grip. she whimpered when he toyed with the bottom of her bra. she felt impatient and he could feel it emanating off of her, so he took advantage of that feeling and walked them both blindly to his mattress. 

“is this okay?” steve whispered, pulling away to which she chased his lips desperately. he smiled at her while sliding a hand over her thigh. her breath was shaking because she was either nervous or excited. he didn’t know which and found her eyes with his. “hey, are you okay?” the question was gentle. 

she nodded, somehow still breathless. “yeah, i’m okay.” she nodded with a smile. she looked like she was drunk just because of his mouth. “i- i want to…” she trailed off meekly with shy eyes. 

steve felt his pants tighten when she said that. he slid his hand further up her thigh and squeezed, loving how her clothed skin felt in his palm. “okay.” he whispered, finding her lips again. 

she sighed into his mouth and let her mind go blank. her hands moved on their own to tangle and tug at his hair and ruin its style into a beautiful mess. 

steve slowly moved his hands to have them grip the bottom of her shirt prior to lifting it up and over her head, which they have to separate for. he tossed the item of clothing aside somewhere far away from them to worry about later. his eyes were glued to her uncovered skin and how it looked in his dim bedroom. “you’re beautiful.” he breathed. 

she rolled her eyes and he started to remove his own shirt, so that she wasn’t the only one lacking a clothing item. when it was off of him she tossed it away like he had with hers. she stared at his chest. his skin was littered with tiny constellations of freckles that she found so pretty on him. she reached out to touch his warm chest as he began moving closer to her with the slow motion of laying her on her back, loving how she looked like an angel against his sheets. 

she kept her eyes on his chest and her hand on his skin snaked around his back. 

steve leaned down, hands holding him up on either side of her head as he attached his lips to her neck to leave slow, open mouthed kisses across her hot skin. the action drew a sudden moan from her unoccupied lips. he smiled because he hasn’t even gotten started. steve pressed his tongue to her skin before closing his lips around a patch of it, pulling it into his mouth to turn it a deep shade of purple and red. 

the action had her back arch away from the mattress slightly with stuttering breaths and a series of whimpers. she tried to press her thighs together to gain some friction where she found the familiar feeling of her core dampening but her legs were stopped by steve’s knee that was between them without her even knowing. he grinned at the way she sighed due to the lack of friction and moved his knee to press against her cunt. she whimpered at the feeling of something finally being between her legs. her hips jutted upwards against his thigh slightly, creating friction. 

he pulled his mouth away from her skin and admired the dark bruise he’d left behind. one of his hands left the spot it occupied beside her head to toy with the trap of her bra. “can i take this off?” he hooked his fingers underneath the strap on her shoulder and then let it snap back onto her skin, making her flinch with a nod. “sit up for me, baby.” steve gently whispered so that he could snake his hand behind her and quickly unclip the garment with one hand. 

it loosened around her shoulders so she turned her shoulders inwards to allow the straps to slip down her arms and have it completely fall away from her. she suddenly felt very exposed as steve stole the item away to toss it away, his eyes glued to her chest with lust in his eyes. she took his face in her hands so that she could connect their lips again, her tongue quickly slipping into his mouth. she pulled him down as she laid back onto her back as steve’s hands wandered, over her waist and then slowly taking a handful of her chest, squeezing her tit in a way that had her gasping in surprise. she wasn’t expecting it to feel that good. 

he chuckled, mouth gently leaving hers to connect back on her neck. he left hot kisses on her skin and sucked the occasional bruise into her skin just to evoke those pretty sounds from her that he was starting to become addicted to hearing. he kissed lower, to her chest, giving her tits some attention because that was also so pretty to him. he was falling for every single part of her without a second thought. 

her head lifted away from the pillow to stare at steve as he ever so slowly kissed lower and lower, nearing the top hem of her jeans. she tried to breathe but the air got stuck when he ultimately settled between her legs. 

“breathe, baby.” he rubbed her thigh with a hand circling around it. she inhaled deeply and exhaled to make him smile and place a kiss just below her navel. “good girl.” he whispered. steve slowly moved his fingers against her jeans, unbuttoning and sliding them down and off her legs. she was now only in her underwear, a sight that he wanted tattooed on the inside of his eyelids forever while he settled back between her thighs. his lips pressed into the insides of both. his hips slowly ground into the mattress as he was becoming more conscious of the strain in his jeans by the minute. he groaned because they felt like a cage to him and if he were still like how he was a year ago they wouldn’t be on, but she’s different and he was doing this for her, not himself. 

she reached down to grab his shoulders in a silent way of telling him to come back up to kiss her. and who was he to deny her of what she wanted? he slowly crawled his way back up to her lips, kissing up her tummy and making her breath shake. she felt deprived of his lips until they were back on hers, a messy thing that made them both moan and sigh into each other. 

“i want you…” she sighed with half lidded eyes and a kiss bitten smile. she was so beautiful with the way her curly hair was fanned out on his pillow and how her body was hot to the touch. she’d tell him it was all his work if he were to ask her why. 

he nodded for a second with one of his hands going between their warm bodies to begin with stripping away the last of his layers. relief washed over his body the moment his jeans slid off of his dick. he shuddered at the thought of being inside her. steve put a hand over her hip, smoothing his fingers over her soft skin as his thumb hooked under the elastic of her underwear. “is it okay if i take these off?” the way he whispered such a simple question made her body resonate with need. she nodded as her eyes stayed on his face. he grinned at the way her hands were repeatedly fisting and then releasing the sheets as a way to distract herself. that simple thing she was doing made him a little needier. his fingers slowly dragged her underwear away and down her legs, teasing her by the speed of it. he made her squirm in anticipation. “you’re so needy, baby.” he kissed her slowly to take her mind away from how his hand slid up the top of her thigh and that both of his legs were between hers, nudging her thighs wider for him. 

he focuses his eyes back to her face, seeing how she breathed deeply and had her eyes closed. “hey, you sure you wanna do this? we can stop if you need to.” his voice was gently laced with concern for her that she thought she could cry because of the sound. 

she nodded her head still. “i’m sure.” he nodded back, both hands placed on either side of her head, the insides of his wrists brushing the tops of her bare shoulders. she lifted her hands to thread her fingers through his soft hair and pull his lips down onto hers. 

he stayed hovering over her with his lips glued to hers before he took one hand between them again to stroke his length and line it up with her entrance. “are you ready?” he asked ghosting his lips over hers as she panted, trying to catch her breath before he steals it away again. she nodded with her bottom lip held between her teeth. 

he kissed the corner of her mouth as he pushed into her and his head dropped into the curve of her shoulder. he couldn’t help but moan into her soft skin at the feeling of her cunt squeezing around him. “fuck… you feel so good.” he groaned, leaving a kiss beneath her ear. 

she gasped when she felt him finally go inside of her. her throat bubbled with airy moans that filled the room as he made slow thrusts in and out of her. she’d never felt like this in her life; head leaning back into soft pillows with her eyes screwed shut with a strange feeling tightening inside her stomach, like a coil. “steve… feels so good.” she slurred and her arms went around his shoulders so that her fingernails could dig into the soft skin of his back. 

he kept his face buried in the curve of her neck, kissing and sucking at her skin as a way of drawing more sounds from her pretty mouth. “y’like this, baby? do i make you feel good?” he asked through a moan, slowly rolling his hips into hers repeatedly. she only nodded with a sigh. he grinned through a groan, knowing he made her feel good by her writhing body beneath his and the beautiful sounds she was making. they would mix with his own sounds of pleasure and bounce off of the walls. 

she arched her back when the tightening cord in her stomach began to become almost too taught to bare. “i’m…” she moaned loudly. “i’m gonna come.” her voice was pitched up in pleasure. her nails were digging into his skin harder than they were before. 

steve sped up his thrusts, knowing he was close behind her. “come for me.” he panted. “i’ve got you, honey.” he assured with a voice so sweet it made her cry out. 

the cord in her stomach snapped, making her fall over the edge, coming around him with a scream. 

steve followed right behind her, hips stuttering as he quickly pulled out with a pained groan to be loosing the amazing feeling of her walls around him. he was loud when he came, shooting ropes of it over her stomach with soft gasps for breath as he searched for her lips. he kissed her once before moving to lay beside her on his stomach. steve had his eyes on her as she breathed heavily, laying on her back motionless. “you okay?” he whispered, propping himself up on an elbow. 

her head turned towards him so their eyes could meet. she nodded. “yeah. that was… amazing.” she sighed in ecstasy, causing a smile to form on his lips. 

———————————————————————

“you okay to drive yourself home?” steve asked in the front doorway, standing with his hands on her hips. she nodded with a lovesick smile. he leaned down to kiss her. when he was pulling away his eyes caught how her shirt wasn’t covering one of the many hickeys he’d left for her. he moved the fabric over it. “i’ll see you later, yeah?” 

she nodded. “yeah, of course.” her lips met his for a final time before she turned on her heels to walk away from the door. 

steve lingered in the doorway, biting his lip. “baby?” he called after her when she was almost to her car. she looked at him with an innocent smile. “i… i love you.” he told her with his heart beating in his ears. he was nervous as she stood still for a second. 

her heart was beating too fast for her to handle so she stood still and waiting for it to calm down before her legs carried her towards him and into his arms. “i love you.” she whispered with her ear to his chest and her arms around his waist. 

he kissed the top of her head with the most adoring grin across his mouth. 

they were in love. 

[cinnamostar]

four dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability

a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!

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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.

You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”

You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”

“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”

“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”

“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”

Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”

He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”

“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”

He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”

You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”

“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”

“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”

“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”

“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”

You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”

“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”

“I’ll believe you just this once!”

“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”

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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.

Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.

A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.

“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.

“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”

Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”

“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”

“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.

You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”

He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.

“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 

“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”

“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.

Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 

The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 

“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 

“It does, right? Let’s eat!”

Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”

“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.

“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”

He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 

“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”

His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”

It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”

The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.

“Really, I mean it.”

“I missed it too.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝑂𝑢𝑟 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐼𝑠 𝐺𝑜𝑑.

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒!𝑉𝑜𝑥 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

This is based of the song from Heathers! Enjoy!

PLS PLS PLS send some suggestions I'm out of ideas and wanna start writing more!

Summary: Vox finds out you've been a victim of two perverts from Valentino's dungeon, and he has a little.. Fun with the demons who did it.

Warnings: Talk of death, murder, mention of suicide, yandere, vox is a little mad, hitting, stabbing, blood, violence, pervert shit, groping, undressing

Vox wiped the tears off your face, examining the bruise, you had been helping with Valentino, even though he had been forced to release you from the contract you still had a few odd jobs to do in his so-called 'sex dungeon'.

While you were helping on set two perverts came up to you, groping and running their hands on your flesh, squeezing you till your skin had bruised. They had dragged you to a separate room but you had managed to escape before they could do anything.

It had been a few days but some of the marks were persistent, at first Vox had called you a cheater once he spotted them. Screaming and babbling nonsense.

"You.. Yøū cHëætîñg lītTlë SlûT!" He had screamed, voice glitching wildly as he grabbed your arm, however things had changed as soon as a tear slid out your eye and onto your cheek.

"No. Darling, I'm sorry... Shhh shhh it'll be fine" he said, pulling you close as if he wasn't about to hit you two minutes ago

"Now.. Who did this?" He asked, voice stern as he held you tighter.

After you had given the names he told you to go get yourself dolled up, after finishing you went to him. He led you to a large grassy area outside of the tower, the sky was filled with stars.

"Are we.. Having a picnic?" You asked him, head tilted as he pulled something from his pocket.

"Oh? Oh dear no.. It's far too late for that" he smiled a toothy grin, he pulled the object in his palm to his face, a gun..

"What are you doing with that?"

"Hunting Filth."

Filth? That wasn't really an answer, he pulled his watch out and called Valentino and asked him to send the perverts outside.

Holy shit.

The demons could be seen walking out of the building, disgusting smirks across their faces.

"Wonder where the bitch is waiting" one said before laughing "Can't believe that whore wants us both at the same time.. Score!" The other one fist-pumped the other.

Vox hid himself in a bush as they approached you.

"Hey hot shit~ so.. How are we doing this?" He said, already unbuttoning his jeans.

"Well... I was thinking you could.. Strip?" You said awkwardly, trying to okay along with whatever he was doing.

A few minutes passed and now both demons were in their boxers gripping your waist when suddenly..

BOOM!

The bullet fired straight through the first demon's head, blood splattering across your skin.

"Bro?.. Holy shit! (Demon 1 Name)! FUCK!" The second one screamed, pulling away from you as he looked around, spotting Vox behind him,

He began to run, through the field and to the street, this demon was fast but luckily Vox could bounce through each screen he passed until he had him cornered, he was back right next to the field, he had led the demon in a circle,

Like his prey almost.

You had spotted them as they came back, walking and peaking through the corner of the wall to watch.

Vox had a sadistic smile on his face as the demon begged for mercy.

He wasn't given it.

Vox pulled out a knife and ripped the demon the fine pieces of meat, making him unidentifiable.

"Darling? You don't need to hide in the corner! You can watch if you'd like" he smiled sweetly at you.

"Okay" you said as he pulled you to in front of the sliced-up demon.

"He should've just let me shoot him" Vox muttered

You didn't respond, instead letting him engulf you in a tight hug, both demon's blood mixing onto eachother.

"You didn't have to do that" you whispered, wiping blood off his screen around his eyes.

"But I did. Our love is god after all, isn't it dearest?" He smiled.

You simply nodded, accepting they you'd be stuck with him for all eternity.

[burntb4bydoll]

Sub tom please? PLEASW.

so ive had multiple people ask more some more sub Tom loll. Again, i am not a Dom so im not really sure on how to write for a dom reader but i hope this is ok!! Pls lmk if im doing this right im trying my best LMAO

Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Summery: Tom has been begging to touch you all day so you finally give him what he wants

Warnings: begging, face sitting‼️, handcuffs, light choking (more like neck grabbing tho) Tom being a brat LOL

“Please babe! Just let me go down on you, I know you like when I do that!” Tom begs, groaning into your stomach. You were laying in bed with him trying to watch a movie. The movie that he had suggested you watch together. Yet here he was, laying between your legs trying to get in your pants.

“Hmm, fine. But, we’re gonna have some fun with it, yeah?” You smirk at him and reach into your nightstand, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. You pushed him to lay down on the mattress and straddle his torso. He looks up at you and pouts when he sees the handcuffs dangling from you fingers.

“Nooo, no I wanna touch you. Don’t you wanna feel my fingers?” You laugh at his desperate attempt to take control. He try’s to wrap his hand around your neck but you push his hand away and instead wrap your hand around his neck.

“Hey, I was being nice and giving you what you’ve been begging for all day. And now you wanna act all tough. What happened to your sweet little whining baby? You mock him, also mocking his pouty expression. He clenched his jaw and turned his head away from you. You used the hand on his neck to make him look at you again, “no no, you don’t get to look away. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

Once you had gotten rid of both of your clothes, you took Toms hands and cuffed them. He lowered his now connected hands to lay on his lower stomach. You sat hovering over his face, watching him try to wiggle his arms to be free from the cuffs. He didn’t get a chance to make a real attempt st escaping before you lowered your cunt onto his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, trying his hardest to feel more of your weight on him. He keeps eye contact like you are told him to,

“Good job, now you’re being obedient. All you needed was some pussy, hmm?” You cooed, reaching your hand to stroke his head. He frantically nodded, whimpering into you. He moved his tongue to suck on you clit, making you moan and press yourself more onto his face. He watches you throw your head back in pleasure, making his already hard member ache for your touch. Tom notices how you started to grind on his face and sped up his movements.

“God damn~ such a good boy Tom! Make me cum and I’ll reward you, pretty boy” your words make him shudder and cause a light pink color to dust over his cheeks. He continued to suck you clit harshly until you came on his face. You got off his face and moved to kneel between his legs.

“You did so good, now I’m gonna take care of you.”

[nicksbestie]

Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him

Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3

Hallway Crush

word count : 1909

no warnings!

pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader

enjoy! <3

School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 

He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 

Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 

He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 

He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.

The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.

It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 

He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 

And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 

As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 

“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 

Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 

“May I?” 

You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 

“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 

You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 

“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 

He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 

“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 

You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.

“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 

You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 

“What exactly are you asking for?” 

He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 

His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 

“You can’t just say things like that.” 

You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 

“Why not?” 

He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 

“You just can’t.” 

The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.

“Can I kiss you instead?” 

He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 

“Yes. That you can do.”

[aubaee]

dance with me — k.sy

seventeen soonyoung head cannon

a/n: idol!au, members ft. (dk, seungkwan, woozi)

best friend!Hoshi who suggests you do a dance challenge with him.

best friend!Hoshi in which he brings you to their dance practice at the HYBE building with Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Jihoon.

best friend!Hoshi whom you see different sides of him while he’s working as an idol. Despite knowing his fun personality, you see how hard-working and serious he is about his profession.

best friend!Hoshi in which you understand why he's appointed as the 'dance leader'.

best friend!Hoshi who not only becomes serious and intimidating during practice but can also be a goofball around you.

best friend!Hoshi who lays right beside you when you finish the dance challenge with him.

"You did so great today, thanks for dancing with me."

"We should dance more often together. It's fun having you accompany me."

best friend!Hoshi in which he becomes clingy, never leaving your side.

"Oh come on, I'm not sweating that much." He smiles mischievously, wrapping his arms around you while you try to push him away.

You groan in protest, laughing at your failed attempt to escape from his tight hug.

best friend!Hoshi who gets teased by his band members, especially by Seungkwan, about the way he’s acting ‘cutely’ towards you.

"What are you talking about? I've always been this way."

best friend!Hoshi placed his hat on you, admiring how good you looked with it.

"You should wear this more often."

"You look good with my stuff on you."

best friend!Hoshi who offered if you want to grab drinks with him.

"Let's go walk together and grab something to eat while we're at it."

Soonyoung chuckles as he hears his band members complain about not being invited to eat along.

"Come on, I rarely get a chance to eat out with her, let alone just the two of us!"

"She's my best friend, okay."

a/n: this is really really short but I wanted to write this for fun, especially since I dreamt this a few days ago. i rarely get dreams of seventeen so i was happy they came up.. i had to make a note of it lol

�� pls like & reblog ☆

[livelaughlovesubs]

I’m cringing so hard while writing this but ermmmm…. PLS WRTE A RIMMING WITH KUNIKIDA FIC PLSSSS THAT MAN HAS THE FATTEST ASS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

But if ur not feeling like writing or don’t feel like it don’t feel pressured to!! Js an idea I had, have a lovely day nini!!!! ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ✧

- 🎀

Thankssss, good day to you too my dear 🎀 anon! Honestly, I didn’t know what to write, like should I just jump into the act or make it flow naturally? Idk I struggled with this one for no apparent reason.

Dom!reader x sub!kunikida (Reader is gender neutral)

This is dirty. That’s what kunikida thought while on all fourth, sticking his bottom out for use. You really wanted to do…that? He never even knew such a thing existed, and no matter how he looked at the situation, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Even so the blondie couldn’t turn you down, which led to your current situation. If this is inevitable, then he should try to enjoy it, no?

He felt weird kneeling like this, especially because he was all nude. It felt like he was an object, a price waiting to be claimed, something that was being observed. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his eyes widened a little when he felt your hands grab his waist. “Don’t you want to lay your head down onto the pillow?” You suggested with a caring tone, brushing over his back with your fingertips. His skin felt smooth and pleasant to the touch, and when you reached his lower part, you slapped his butt once. It didn’t hurt as much as how loud it was.

“Ah… no, it’s fine.” The male gasped a little, seemingly on edge today. Why was he so jumpy? Was he exited or scared? “No need to be this on edge, kunikida.” You rubbed his buns before kneeling down yourself, using your hands to spread him apart. It was amazing how much you adored this man, wanting to try anything to make him feel pleasure. You started with kitten licks, it was fun teasing his like this, and you could feel how he trembled. For him though, it was humiliating. He was the one on the receiving end, yet he felt embarrassed that he was doing this. Mostly because it felt better than he thought, and that was something hard to accept for him.

You continued teasing him to your hearts content, poking against his hole once in a while to head the adorable whimpers he would let out. “Ahh.. mhm, huUumm.” Whenever you went down on him, he felt sensations like never before travel through his body, electricity and tingles plagued his abdomen. There was no helping his squirming. His brain was telling him to get away and to get closer to you, he didn’t know what to do. It felt good, so good even that it was overwhelming. “HgnNn..! Ah-ahhHh.. y/n.” Always, every single time you two did some intimate stuff he would end up like this, like a flustered mess and naive kid. He tried to keep his breathing steady but to no avail, moans and whines escaped his swollen lips. They got swollen from him biting them too much. His face was cherry red and the expression he pulled was beyond lewd.

A while later he changed position, now pushing his face into the pillow in a poor attempt to muffle his moans. You kept playing with him, feeling your own heart pound from his cute reactions. He was being so sweet again, it made you want to eat him up, fold him together and toss him around. This normally cold and collected man, who’s all serious and disciplined now on all fourth and participating in such a dirty act. You had to tease him. Suddenly you stopped your motions, ripping him off of the sensations driving him insane. “ngHhh, y/n…? What’s- what’s wrong? Why..” a smile erupted on your face when you heard his question you with that pathetic face of his. His voice was meek and high pitched, incomparable to his usual one. “You probably don’t like this, kunikida, do you? Should we just stop and wash up?”

What were you suggesting now..? He was finally starting to lose himself in the ecstasy only you could provide, and now you want to stop? Every single nerve in his body screamed the word want, he desired this so much it hurt. Drool was hanging from his chin, and his member also got hard in the meantime, messing up the bed with his body fluids. “No, no, it-it’s alright I..” he started, somehow his voice didn’t want to come out. “What? You have to speak clearly, kunikida.” Just to provoke him, you used your fingers to rub his entrance, making him yelp again. How did you expect him to think under such circumstances?

The male gazed back at you, a fierce look on his face, though to you it looked no different than a pouting kitten. “And?” You smirked, unable to hide your own enjoyment. “Keep going..” he whispered, a little hesitant to say any more. “That’s not how you ask for something, or?” Why were you being so difficult right now? It reminded him of a certain someone. “Keep going, please…” kunikida tried again, taking a small break to find the right words, “I.. liked it.” Ah, really cute, so cute you wanted to bully him. “And what did you like?” You asked him again, stroking his dick slowly while waiting for his answer. “MHmm,..!! Ahhh, the- the thing.. you did earlier..! UgHhh, please..” this was his limit, if he had to do anymore of this humiliating act, he would explode. “Pff, alright, I guess I’ll show you mercy for now.”

[bunthebreadboy]

i saw a fanart on pinterest when i decided to change my entire phone theme and i can’t get it out of my head.

the art was just after the zuko and ozai agni kai. zuko was knocked out, iroh was getting ready to take him and leave, and azula just came in and said “i took care of it”. if anyone knows what i’m talking about and has it saved or knows the og artist pls lmk!!

anyways. it got me thinking about an expansion of this au (that i will never write because i have neither the patience nor the time to do that) that (unsurprisingly) results in disasterlesbian!azula

so hear me out on this one. there would need to be an entire plot. like. what’s aang going to do??

azula killed ozai by electrocuting him. it’s the first time she discovers her lightning bending. it looks like he had a heart attack in his sleep. (don’t get too wrapped up in the details. azula’s a prodigy she can be overpowered for a bit)

why did she kill her dad? she’ll swear up and down that it was because “he really should have picked on someone with a better fighting ability than zuzu. honestly, it’s stupid he didn’t lose his honor after frying my pathetic firebender of a brother to a crisp.” it’s actually because she kind of sort of loves zuko. she will NEVER admit that.

iroh becomes fire lord, albeit a bit reluctantly. he spends the next three years attempting to end the war, stop the spread of propaganda in the fire nation, and deal with his niece and nephew bickering all the time.

so aang comes out of the iceberg. meets katara and sokka. katara convinces him to take her to the north pole because he’s the avatar, he still should probably master all four elements war or not. all of the traveling is the same (except zuko chasing them) until they get to omashu and king bumi is like “what’s up my dude, welcome back. we’re recovering from a war, so you should probably learn politics and how to not offend anyone while you master the elements!!”

(“there was a WAR?!?!!!” -aang, probably)

so now aang does a deep dive into all of the nation’s politics while also training. katara doesn’t really attend his meetings, but sokka’s a total nerd and is sat for every single one. first is waterbending at the north pole. insert canon things but add in a meeting with arnook.

this is where we introduce the REAL enemy, because the enemy can’t be the gaang attempting to learn international law at 12, 14, and 15 years old. during the full moon someone assassinates the moon spirit! (sorry yue, i love you but you still die in this au…)

so after mastering waterbending the gaang heads to the earth kingdom. they meet toph and she joins. they head to ba sing se, which, after trying to talk politics with the king, they realize is still completely unaware of the war. while in the earth kingdom, we get a name for the big bad. the dai li. after realizing that ba sing se is basically a military dictatorship, the gaang escapes and head to the fire nation.

that’s where zuko, azula, and iroh get reintroduced. aang and sokka consistently come back from meetings with the royals complaining about “oh my god, the princess is such a bitch. seriously, how is she allowed to help run this country??”

katara eventually goes with the boys to a meeting to get them to shut up. toph makes fun of her for being a people pleaser, but katara will do literally anything to get her brother and best friend to stop yapping about the same topic at her every. single. day.

azula (disaster lesbian) doesn’t say a single word throughout the entire meeting. sokka and aang walk out feeling like they were in the twilight zone. katara shows up to more and more meetings. why? definitely not cause the princess is sort of kind of somewhat cute intriguing.

insert azula’s gay awakening crisis here. she eventually starts talking at the meetings, but she’s only ever nice to katara lmao. katara does realize that azula’s an actual genius, though. she decides that the two of them could probably like, take over the entirety of ba sing se in a day if they tried hard enough. but of course that is purely hypothetical.

so one day a meeting gets interrupted by a literal dai li assassin trying to kill aang. he barely escapes the resulting fight.

so the dai li send more assassins. and even more assassins. until finally zuko gets fed up and is just like “alright i’m tired of dealing with these guys. can we please go kick their leader’s ass??”

that is how azula and zuko end up joining the gaang. and how azula can eventually lay siege over ba sing se (even if she reluctantly gives it back when katara tells her to).

—

other misc key points:

- azula and katara get together right before they fight with long feng. it happens cause katara notices that azula is nervous (nobody else would be able to tell) and so she’s like “zula. you’ve got this. we’ve got this” and kisses her lmao

- toph and azula are best friends, to katara’s obvious dismay

- the second azula calls zuko “zuzu” in front of sokka he immediately starts rolling on the floor and laughing. katara has to make sure his lungs are okay afterwards

- zuko: “im literally not gay??” sokka: “yeah, and toph can see”

- toph regularly comes back to wherever the gaang is staying with bags of money. she knows how to find every single illegal fighting ring in the world.

- this is a loooooong term plot. since there’s no reason to worry about the comet it can take place over many years. which also means that katara and azula literally pine for each other until they’re like 20 and everyone around them, especially (and surprisingly) aang, is like “oh my god make it stop”

[motherjoel]

something special (part 2) (joel miller/reader)

part 2 to something special!! i recommend reading that first but tbh it doesn't matter too much

wc: 5.3k

warnings: fluffy and maybe a teensy bit angsty. uhhhh smut? oral f!receiving and pee pee in wee wee

a/n: omg like i wrote part one of this so long ago but I was struck with inspiration and horniness so I made a part 2!!! i hope you guys like this, it was really fun to write lmao BUT PLS don't be mad if its a little ooc and also ignore marias whole backstory cause reader is her sister and they didn't have parents so Jackson wasn't created by their dad idk the logistics just bear with me here.

PART ONE

-

His tongue skated lightly over your neck, his left hand resting firmly on the back of your head and his right on the sliver of bare skin between your t-shirt and pants. The kitchen counter was cold against your back, the granite digging into your spine. You let a soft moan escape your lips as he sucked a particularly sensitive part of your neck, prompting him to move his lips to your own with a growl. His hands migrated to your hips, tapping them to urge you to hop up onto the counter. As you move to slide up, his hands grip your waist and lift you the rest of the way. 

 You briefly break the kiss to situate yourself before diving back in, your core now warm against his stomach. You work to lift his shirt off, him returning the favor. Then, the doorbell rings. He doesn’t acknowledge it, but it doesn’t stop. You both try to ignore it, though it's persistent in its ringing.

You wake with a start, sweat now cooling on the back of your neck that makes you shiver. Your legs clench together in the aftermath of your dream, the telltale signs between your legs indicating what had just happened. You smile to yourself, noting that this is the first time you’ve dreamed in months. You’d much preferred this to the screaming and blood of your nightmares.

The doorbell continues to ring, and after a groan into your pillow, you stand and rub your eyes. You can’t tell if the dizziness you’re feeling is a consequence of the drinks you’d had or the dream you’d had. Either way, you push it aside to open the door.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” Maria chuckles as she pushes herself inside your house, carrying a heavily packed tote bag. 

“Thanks, it's a new look I'm trying,” you turn away from her to head to the kitchen for a glass of water as she makes herself comfortable.

“Well I’m sure Joel would love it,” she smirks, seating herself at the kitchen table. You blush at the thought of the man you’d been dreaming of moments before. 

“God, last night was…” you shake your head, “did I embarrass myself?” you ask with a wince. Maria snorts a laugh.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I think you made… quite the impression. Or at least, that's what Tommy said,” she begins to unpack the bag she brought. Inside is the biggest breakfast sandwich you’ve ever seen and some coffee grounds. You’d told Maria you needed more just yesterday, and her thoughtful ass just had to get you some. You almost rolled your eyes at the level of thoughtfulness.

“Wait… Tommy? Did he talk to Joel? What did Joel say? Does he… what does he think of me? Did I embarrass myself? Oh my god, Maria, he probably thinks i'm crazy,” you rant, waiting for her to interrupt you. She watches, almost too amused to stop you.

“Yes, yes. Tommy talked to Joel... which I’m not happy about, by the way!” she pauses to give you a look, but you groan, urging her to continue. “Okay, okay. He said… he said something about you being ‘special’. Tommy thinks he’s a goner,” Maria scoffs and moves to the old coffee pot you have on the counter to make a fresh pot. 

“Oh… thats… wow,” you can’t quite find the words you’re looking for. You feel like a blushing schoolgirl. 

“Yeah, well…” Maria pauses, both of her hands on the counter as she thinks. She turns back to you. “Just… be careful, yeah?” you furrow your brows at her words.

“What do you mean? I’m a grown adult, I think I can handle myself,” you feel yourself getting frustrated at her words, as if she doesn’t have any confidence in your own abilities.

“I know you can handle yourself. You’re an independant badass, we’re all aware,” she raises her hands in defense as you give her a small smile. “I just mean… It's Joel. Tommy told me some things about him… things he did before he came here, and-” you cut her off.

“Alright, I don’t need to hear this. Maria, seriously, we all did things to survive! I’m definitely not somebody to judge,” you lower your head, flashes of pre-Jackson floating through your head.

“I know, I’m just saying. Be careful, alright?” you nod before grabbing your sandwich and sitting at the table.

“Alright,” you take a bite of the sandwich and let out a moan. “Fuck that’s good. Okay, so what else did Tommy say?”

-

Joel forgot what a hangover felt like. He’d vaguely remembered the head-pounding nausea of his youth, but a memory is nothing like the real thing. The real thing was much, much worse.

As he lies in his bed, thumb and pointer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, he recounts the previous night. He remembers the vitriol spewing from that man's lips and he can't help but mentally thank him for facilitating your encounter. He remembers the bottle of pinot noir, particularly the way it tasted on your tongue. He smiles to himself, the unfamiliar butterflies in his stomach unsettling him as much as exciting him. He needed to see you, and soon. Maybe if he got the courage to leave the house.

Before he can make up his mind, his doorbell rings. With a groan, he stands from his bed. Damn knees. After taking a moment to steady himself, he makes his way down the stairs. He glances at his coffee pot, noting the lack of coffee grounds. He softly curses to himself, realizing he’ll have to figure out how to get some. Tommy had given him a tour of the town when he first arrived to officially settle in, but he’s realizing just how little he’d absorbed. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he swings open his door to see you. You, with your shy smile and your bright eyes. You wear a loose-fitting flannel, and jealousy tugs at his gut as he thinks about who’s flannel that could be. Butterflies soon replace the jealousy as he imagines that it’s his own. His own, meaning he could probably take it off himself. You open your mouth to speak, cutting him off from his thoughts.

“Here,” you stretch out your arm. Joel notices, for the first time, a mug of black coffee in your hand. His mouth opens a bit as he gasps softly, hoping that you didn't hear. “It’s a bitch trying to get coffee grounds around here, but I figured I’d share my stash,” you shrugged, still holding the mug out with an awkward smile. He reaches for it, your fingers grazing as he grabs the warm mug.

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, taking a small sip and rolling his eyes back into his head. “Jesus, that's good,” he chuckles softly before taking another sip.

You watch him drink, his throat bobbing as he sips. His lips glisten with the coffee, and it takes all of your willpower not to taste them yourself. You look down to the white t-shirt he’s wearing, tufts of hair poking out of the top. His flannel pajama pants make you giggle- he looks like someone's father. Someone's sexy father.

“Something funny?” he raises his eyebrow before taking another sip, savoring the bitterness he’d missed so dearly.

“No, nothing it's just… you look cute when you wake up,” you blush, eyeing the way his hand rests on his hip. His shirt rides up under his hand, the small sliver of skin like a car crash you can’t stop looking at.

“Cute? I look… cute?” Joel raises his eyebrows more, if even possible. He can’t recall a woman ever calling him cute. Certainly not a woman he was… interested in. 

“You know what I mean,” you nudge his arm before pulling your hand back, crossing your arms so as not to touch him more than you already had. Joel didn’t really know what you mean.

“Well, you do, too. Look cute, I mean,” he scratches the back of his neck, studying the freckles on your face. The way they move when you talk and smile. You’re gorgeous and it makes Joel realize just how out of his element he is. He feels himself grow cold, ice freezing over the warm puddle you turned his heart into. “I have to, uh,” he points his thumb inside, desperately thinking of an excuse to get away from you so he could calm the beating of his heart. He fails to think of one.

“Oh,” your face falls a bit but you quickly plaster a smile on your face. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” you turn on your heel, the warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. 

Jesus, what were you thinking? This man has a daughter and at least 10 years on you. Those things didn’t matter to you whatsoever, especially now, but they probably mattered to him, right? You shake your head as you approach the stables, ready for a day of work. As much as you love human interaction, you really loved working with the horses. They obviously can’t judge you, so you tell them all of your problems as a way of working things out. 

You approached Jessa, a filly born about a year ago. She was completely brown except for a few white spots on her head and around her ankles. You call them her boots. 

“What am I gonna do here, Jess?” you frown, opening her stall and taking a seat on a milk crate next to her. She whinnies softly. “I know, I know, I’m crazy, right?” Jessa huffs. “We were drunk, Jess. It was a mistake, I guess,” you stand, pet her head, and leave her to see Joel standing awkwardly at the front of the stables. Your heart drops at the possibility of him overhearing you. He fidgets before speaking up. 

“I’m supposed to meet Tommy,” he murmurs, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh. What for?” you ask, noting the accidental edge in your own voice. Joel's eyebrows pinch together at your tone.

“Uh, patrol. Training,” he clears his throat. “About, um, earlier,” he starts, taking a small step closer to you. Before he continues, Tommy enters. 

“Well, hello there, lovebirds,” Tommy strides through the stables confidently, a stark contrast to his brother. He ruffles the hair on your head and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes at his brotherly nature. You choose to ignore his nickname for the two of you, opting to help them get their horses for patrol.

“So, you trainin’ him?” you ask, reaching to grab the saddles from the wall. Joel doesn’t miss the way your shirt rides up. 

“Yeah, gettin’ the old man ready to start pulling some weight around here,” he smirks when Joel visibly rolls his eyes. 

“Ah, well, good luck out there,” you smile and hand Tommy the reins, ignoring Joel completely. Tommy raises an eyebrow but chooses to stay silent, thanking you and leading Joel to the gates.

-

Joel was never a smooth man. Even in his prime, he didn’t date much. It's not like he had much of a prime, what with having Sarah so young. He wouldn’t have traded her for the world, but it's a simple fact. Joel was out of his element. He’s kicking himself from the second you walk away. How did he fuck up so badly?

As he shuts the door, he turns to see Ellie at the kitchen table, watching his every move.

“When the hell’d you get here?” he starts, eyeing down Ellie who is currently staring him down with wide eyes.

“Like 20 minutes ago, you walked right past me,” she shrugged and took a bite of the granola bar in front of her. She speaks before swallowing “the fuck was that, by the way?” she questions. Joel grimaces.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth. S’impolite,” he walks past her to sit on his couch, mug of coffee in his hands. He studies the mug, ceramic and plain for the most part, aside from the brown owl on the front. He wonders if he’s going to give it back to you. 

“That was Maria’s sister, right? The one from last night?” she smirks at the shock on his face.

“How the hell’d you-” he starts before she cuts him off.

“Come on Joel. First of all, the front porch? Not exactly a private venue,” she starts, shoving more of the granola into her mouth. Joel groans in annoyance. “Second, my friend Dina told me she saw you guys at the Tipsy Bison. She said there was totally some chemistry,” she laughs.

“Friend? Who is she? Can I meet ‘er?” Joel perks up at her words, excited that she has a friend, but also trying to get out of the conversation they’re having.

“Yeah, she's really cool. I met her at movie night, she- wait, no you're not getting out of this!” She stands from the table to join him on the couch.

“There is no ‘this’. I’m pretty sure she wants nothing to do with me now,” Joel traces his fingers over the grooves in his mug. Your mug. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“What do you mean? Y’all were totally getting it on,” she laughs, as he shoves the side of her arm, trying to hide his smirk.

“Y’all? What’re you, a cowboy?” he huffs a laugh. 

“Learned from the best,” she gives him a cheeky grin. “I think… maybe you should talk to her. Adults are so dumb, like, half of the world's problems could be solved by just talking to each other,” she furrows her brows for a moment. “Well, except for the whole ‘infected’ thing. That’d probably take a bit more.” Joel can’t help but laugh at her train of thought. 

“Maybe I will,” Joel pats her knee and stands up, setting the mug in the sink. He’d probably give it to Maria to return to you. 

He didn’t plan on trying to talk to you again. He’d just screw it up, he thought. Images of you were scattered throughout his mind all morning, and he was kicking himself for his lack of social skills. Before he could kick himself anymore, he saw you. He’d had no idea you ran the stables. If he’d known, maybe he could have prepared himself. Maybe think of a few words to say. Instead, he was his usual, awkward self. 

The patrol goes how he’d expected it to. Tommy notices he’s quieter than usual, which is saying a lot. The route they took was empty except for a small group of runners that they took out with ease. Joel just wants to be in his bed, asleep. He doesn’t want to have to think. He’s afraid he won't be able to get back as soon as he’d hoped, Tommy leaving him alone at the stables to return the horses. Tommy had said something about ‘getting home to the old ball and chain’ that made Joel roll his eyes, but he relented nevertheless. 

His heart pinches in worry when he doesn’t immediately see you. He figures it's for the best- the horses are already in their stalls, and maybe he can just sneak out without checking in with you. He’s about to do just that when he hears raised voices coming from your small office. He quietly walks closer to the door, trying to listen in.

“I told you, I’m sorry!” he hears a male voice echo under the door, and it’s familiar. He wracks his brain to figure out who it was.

“Justin, I told you it’s fine! I don’t care! I’m sorry, but I’m not interested anyway,” he hears your voice now, smooth as silk. His heart skips a beat.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know me, baby,” he feels disgust at the male voice now, recognizing it as the man from last night. He fights every urge inside of him to not burst inside that room right now. 

“Hey, get off me!” he hears you yell. His fight to suppress his urges is completely gone as he hears you in distress, slamming the door open to the sight of you pinned against your desk, this ‘Justin’ guy grabbing your wrist with a bruising pressure.

“The hells goin on here?” Joel asks, chest heaving.

“None of your business, old man. We were just… talking, right?” Justin smirks to you. Joel notices the fear in your eyes and his heart cracks a bit.

“Um… right, yeah. It’s fine, Joel,” you say, unconvincingly. You widen your eyes to urge him to leave. As if he ever would. 

“How bout we all go home, yeah?” Joel asks, taking a step closer. Justin takes this as a threat, releasing you to turn to face Joel.

“And what if we don’t want to, huh?” Justin crosses his arms. Joel looks down at him, grateful for the 2 or 3 inches he has on him.

“Oh, I think you want to,” Joel says sternly. Justin takes this as an opportunity to push his shoulders, slamming him into the wall behind him. Joel is taken off guard, but he can’t help but chuckle. “You didn’t want to do that, kid.”

“Seriously, man? All this for some bitch who doesn’t even put out?” Justin smirks as if he’d won the argument. Without skipping a beat, Joel's fist is in his face, knocking him to the ground. You yelp, jumping out of the way.

“Fuck, dude!” Justin yells from the ground grabbing his bleeding and possibly broken nose. Joel shakes his hand, stretching his fingers. His knuckles fucking hurt, but its hard to focus on that when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

“Get the fuck out,” you robotically say to Justin.

“But- h-he-” he tries to speak.

“I said get the fuck out!” you raise your voice, pulling him off of his feet and pushing him out the door. Joel watches him like a hawk as he leaves, ready to punch him a million more times if he needed to. The two of you stand in silence for a few moments  before you decide to speak up.

“How was patrol?” you ask, fidgeting with your hands. He huffs a laugh, taking you by surprise. “What?” you smile slightly.

“Nothing, it's just… after everything that just happened, you’re asking me about patrol?” he looks into your eyes, noticing the heat in them. He’s sure he has the same look in his own.

“Are you… okay?” you ask, ignoring his question. 

“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” he asks, incredulous. You nod, with an mmhmm. You bite your lip and Joel isn’t sure if it's the adrenaline or if he finally grew some balls, but he surges forward and in a single step, he has your face cradled in his hands. 

“I-is this… okay?” he whispers against your lips, feeling your hot breath on his own. You nod before reaching up to clutch his flannel in your hands, pulling his lips to your own. Joel unwittingly moans into the kiss. He fucking moans. He’s almost mortified. Almost. When you moan in response, he’s only urged on further, slowly walking you backwards until your ass is pressed against the desk. He taps the side of your hip, motioning for you to hop up. You separate for all of 3 seconds, settling  on the desk, when his lips are back on yours. 

You whine into his mouth, spurring him further. He fiddles with the bottom of your flannel, itching to rip it off but maintaining some restraint. Before he can think too deeply, you reach out to the bottom button of his own flannel. 

“S’this- this ok-kay?” you ask between breaths. 

“More’n okay, darling,” he smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your neck while you work on the buttons. You giggle at the sensation. “What?” Joel asks with a small smile.

“It’s hard to… focus… when… ahhh,” Joel reattaches his lips to your neck with a smile. He feels like a teenager again, kissing his crush in secret. It’s thrilling to him, really.

You’ve never been more turned on in your entire life. You thought that dream had made you insanely wet, but Jesus, this was something else. You do finally manage to get his shirt off, leaving him in a white t-shirt. He continues to fiddle with your shirt, causing you to pull back for a moment. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering if he did something wrong. You whip your shirt over your head, leaving you in only your plain black bra. You wish you’d worn something lacy and pretty, but considering there wasn't a Victoria’s Secret nearby, you weren’t that upset. 

It’s been a very long time for Joel. Though he was out of practice, he was pretty sure he remembered what to do. He certainly didn’t have a hard time showing how much he wanted you, his erection painfully strained against his pants. Women liked that, right? But, you weren’t just any woman. You were… something else. At the sight of you in just your bra and jeans, Joel knew he was done for. And your smile, that damned smile… it felt like worship in a world without faith. 

You wanted more, so you took it. Reaching to the hem of his white t-shirt, you lifted to pull his shirt off so that you’re skin to skin. The first thing you notice is how fucking warm he was. The next thing you noticed was his scar-riddled chest. You trace them softly with your fingers, the raised skin smooth against you. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as you observe his body. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, looking up to meet his eyes. He laughs softly.

“You’re one to talk,” he says before taking your lips against his again. He feels spurred on by your words and actions- he now has no doubt now that you want this as badly as him. 

“Take my pants off, Joel,” you smirk, unbuttoning them yourself to give him a head start. He laughs before pulling them down the rest of the way leaving you in your underwear and bra. He reaches his hand forward, mouth slack as he presses his hand against your core, palming you over your underwear.

“Mmmmmfuck,” you moan, head bobbing onto his shoulder.

“This alright?” he asks, restraining a moan at the dampness of your underwear.

“Please, keep going,” you grind into the palm of his hand.

Without hesitation, he traces his hand up your mound, purposely putting pressure on your clit, before reaching the hem of your underwear and sliding his fingers under, finally feeling you. He moans at the wetness collected between your legs, amazed at how turned on you are from him. He collects that wetness and brings it up to your clit where he rubs in painfully slow circles. You buck your hips into his hand, and he chuckles- its low and gravelly, his own arousal preventing him from putting on a steel front. 

“Fuck, darlin’ you’re so wet,” he whispers into your ear. You can barely hear him, your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. As you’re about to speak, he slowly slips a finger inside you. You let out a loud moan, biting your lip to stifle the noise.

“S’okay baby, make some noise for me,” his movements maintain their place as he drops to his knees. You stiffen.

“J-Joel, what’re you doing?” you pull at his hair so he looks up at you. It gives him goosebumps. 

“What’s it look like I'm doin’, sweetheart? Need’ta taste ya,” he licks his lips as he looks at your core, knowing he’d never see anything as beautiful as this again in his life. You freeze at his words.

“Oh, you don't have to…” you look away from him shyly. He stands at this, hand still moving between your legs.

“Oh, I want to. Please, baby, I want to,” he says to you, pleads almost. Guys had never asked to go down on you before, and you’d never pushed for it. It was nerve wracking- you considered telling Joel this. But the look on his face was enough- you can’t help but relent. 

“Mmhm, okay,” you nod and he smiles, sinking to his knees again. 

He doesn’t even notice the way his knees creak or how uncomfortable the hardwood floor is on them. He just needs to taste you. The moment his mouth is on you, he moans. The vibrations cause a jolt of lightning up your spine. 

“Fuck, s’good,” he says against your thigh before kissing it and diving back in. This time he lifts one of his hands to slip a finger inside, the sensation causing you to lift your legs to rest on his shoulders. You hoped you weren’t squeezing too hard, but the thought was fleeting as his free arm shot up to wrap around your thigh and pull you closer.

The familiar sensation of your core tightening and your vision blurring hit you like a truck. No man had ever made you come before, and certainly not within less than 10 minutes of seeing each other. The orgasm swells to a peak, your thighs clenching on either side of Joel’s head as he moans into you. The aftershocks hit almost as hard as the initial shock, and you don’t realize it's over until the overstimulation of Joel sets in. He was still going absolutely crazy, drinking you in like his life depended on it.

“Ah, fuck,” you hiss at the oversensitivity and he immediately pulls away to ask if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” you laugh. “I’m perfect, actually. Jesus Christ,” you laugh again as he stands, pulling you to the edge of the desk so your clothed core is pressed against his jeans, leaving a dark spot over his crotch. “I’ve never… done that,” you confess shyly.

“Done what?” he asks, cocking his head.

“Been eaten out. And also, I guess, have a man give me an orgasm,” you giggle, mind loose. His expression hardens.

“Wait… what?” he looks at you, concern in your eyes.

“I mean, no guy has ever wanted to before. It’s no big deal,” you shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Baby, it is a big deal. Because how any man could deny that… there has to be something wrong with him. A big deal of something wrong with him,” Joel laughs with you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Can you please fuck me, Joel?” you ask with a cock of your head and a pout on your lips. Joel almost trips in trying to take his pants off and you can't help but giggle.

“Oh, you won't be laughing soon, darlin’” he chuckles before pulling his cock out from his underwear. It’s huge, obviously, because why wouldn’t it be. It’s the biggest you’d ever seen, and you can't help but lift your hand up to grab it, stroking it to the tufts of hair at the base. “Won’t be lastin’ too long if you keep that up,” Joel grimaces with a hiss. You smirk as you grab him and lead him to your entrance, pressing the tip to you.

“Start slow, okay?” you ask, worry filling your gut. It had been awhile, and with a man as well endowed as Joel, you couldn’t help but have some worries. 

“I promise,” he chuckles before pushing it in, just the tip. The two of you gasp in harmony, your arms shooting to wrap around his shoulders. “Y’okay?” he asks, bringing his hand up to your cheek. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “keep going, please.”

“Okay, baby, I gotcha,” he pushes himself further, and before you know it, you can feel his tufts of hair against you as he bottoms out. He’s breathing heavy and ragged as you lean up to capture him in a kiss. He tries his best not to move, to let you adjust, but his restraint is like a rubber band about to snap. Before it does, he feels you move closer to him, urging him to start moving. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He begins slowly, moving his hips back and forth. You squeeze him perfectly, your wetness allowing him to move with ease. His hands moved to your hips, then your breasts, your face- he was all over you. It took everything in you to keep your eyes open, but the eye contact he was making was worth it. When he wasn’t kissing parts of you, he was watching you. Whether it was your eyes, your lips, or your breasts, he was watching you. He only closed his eyes when he blinked. You were used to guys digging their faces into your shoulder and finishing in 30 seconds. Everything about Joel was… so much more.

He flattens his palm on your stomach above your mound, feeling himself inside of you. Slowly, he moves his hand up your chest to squeeze your nipple. You unexpectedly gasp and arch your back, urging him to continue. His other hand snakes from your waist to your clit as he begins to rub in circles.

“Need’ya to finish with me, darlin’” he whispers in your ear.

“O-okay. M’close,” you manage to squeak out, his hands doing so much to you. 

“F-fuck,” Joel lets out a groan as he tries to maintain his pace to get you off. The second he feels you clenching around him, however, he speeds up. As he’s about to come, he quickly pulls out and spills onto your stomach, chest heaving as he leans over you. He wishes he’d had a camera to capture the view in front of him right now

You’re breathless and sweaty beneath him when you come to. His length lay on your stomach, twitching as he came down. The two of you remain this way for what feels like an eternity before he stands up fully, grabbing a box of tissues from your desk and proceeding to clean you up.

He reaches his hand out to you and you take it, hopping off of the desk. Grabbing the discarded clothes from the floor, he motions for you to lift your arms over your head so he can slide your flannel over you. Only it's not your flannel, but his. He doesn’t comment on this as he puts your flannel on himself, the usually oversized fit you’re used to fitting him perfectly

You reach up to fiddle with his hair, the curls messy atop his head. His lips part but he stays silent, watching you bite your lip in focus.

“There,” you smile. “Better.” 

Joel isn't sure what to do with his hands now, the soft ticking of a clock on your wall filling the noise. He feels heat creep up the back of his neck when he recounts what you’d just done. In public.

“Coffee?” you ask, playing with the hem of your new shirt.

“Hm?” he snaps his head to you, daze broken. 

“I said ‘coffee’? Like, the drink?” you giggle.

“What about coffee?” he asks. He knows you’re probably inviting him over, but he just wants to hear you talk. 

“Ugh, just come home with me, Miller,” you laugh and grab his hand, leading him out of the stables. 

He follows you to your house, your hands intertwined the whole walk. Neither of you acknowledge this as your conversation flows as easily as if you’d known each other for years. He stays at your house for hours, enjoying his coffee almost as much as he’s enjoying you. You both realize around the same time just how enamored you were with each other. Though neither of you are sure how to feel, Joel knows now that he can’t lose you. Ever.

[jnnul]

the right side of wrong. (part one)

TAGS ▸ violence (fighting, blood, general superhero warnings), warnings vary per chapter, uhh like trauma but it's not gone into super deeply, lots of mentions of isolation and manipulation, young justice au!, nightwing!sunghoon, there is a vision here of sunghoon as nightwing and i want everyone to have it as well, superhero au

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 11.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i’ve fallen back into my superhero phase (which i’m always in, who am i kidding?) and everyone needs to understand my love for the found family + superhero trope. extremely self-indulgent and shamelessly fun to write! it’s a little different from what i usually write (college aus) so hopefully i do it justice (haha get it). part one out of eight-ish parts! quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 17, 20XX 6:32 p.m.]

[???]

ALL Y/N ARDOR FAUST CAN SEE IS ABSOLUTE DARKNESS. at first, she panics, grasping at air as she falls into despair when she realizes that she cannot manage to actually latch onto anything. no matter how much she tries to feel around for something - anything - she fails to do so, instead only managing to lose her balance in the nothingness. she knew that this would happen when she first devised her plan but she hadn’t known just how frightening it would be to escape.

escape. is that really what she was doing? or was she just painting the target on her back even larger? did it even matter anymore? if she couldn’t leave this place, she might as well give up. after all, once they found her, it didn’t really matter whether she would have escaped or not. no one would live to tell the story of the girl who escaped a prison with no exits.

she vaguely registers that someone is screaming and she wants to tell them to stop, that they were blowing her cover and that she definitely wouldn’t be able to escape if they kept screaming. it was too loud. too loud!

only when her vision clears does she realize that the person who had been screaming had been herself.

[march 12, 20XX, 4:19 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon park shifts uncomfortably as he watches black canary wipe superboy off of his feet. jay grunts as his body meets the ground, the sensors in the training ground floor sounding out a resoundingly depressing “SUPERBOY - LOSS” that echoes throughout the training chamber. even after three months of training, it seemed like none of them could really beat black canary when it came to martial arts.

and sunghoon was trained by batman, so that really meant something. canary and him were tied (32 - 32) and he had a feeling that wouldn’t change any time soon.

“nightwing? you want to run roll next?” canary asks, eyebrow cocked in challenge. sunghoon smiles, adjusting his mask before he steps onto the training ground, the sensors announcing “NIGHTWING - BLACK CANARY” as soon as he does.

“why? taking out our heavy hitter wasn’t enough?” sunghoon asks and canary scoffs as she hunches into a fighting stance, ready to pounce the moment he gave her a chance to do so.

“hey! i was distracted,” jay exclaims, thanking miss martian slightly when she offers him an ice pack. sunghoon doesn’t have the heart to remind her that jay was half-kryptonian and that ice packs didn’t really help him in healing as much as she thought they did but he doubted it would make much of a difference. soojin was just about head over heels in love with jay and vice versa - she could offer him kryptonite to heal him and jay would accept it happily because his loving girlfriend gave it to him. or something like that, at least.

“just like nightwing is,” canary says before lunging forward, slicing at sunghoon’s head before shifting her position to aim for his knee instead. sunghoon launches backwards before he even realizes what had happened.

“nightwing has also been training in mma since he was in diapers, practically,” kid flash, aka jake sim (aka one of sunghoon’s oldest and best friends), points out. even sunghoon’s body on autopilot, maneuvering and ducking out of black canary’s well placed traps, was a lethal force but sunghoon had no intentions of breaking the tie in canary’s favor.

“technically, superboy’s only five years old,” soojin points out and jake grimaces underneath his mask.

“do you want me to point out the moral flaws in you dating a technical five year old? even if he’s biologically 21?” jake asks and soojin lifts her arms in understanding.

“point taken.”

“glad to see that martians don’t take well to that either.”

“i don’t really think that anyone does, kid.”

“now that we’ve established that everyone in the milky way has the same moral compass, you gonna spar with me or what, nightwing?” canary says, smiling cattily (oh, the irony) before sweeping at sunghoon’s leg, grunting when he leaps gracefully.

“you’re right, canary. hate to keep you on your toes,” sunghoon says. and with that, he successfully is able to grab her left arm, catching her off balance and causing her to try to twist her body to keep from falling but sunghoon is too fast. he lets go of her before she can find something to latch onto, and canary fails to knock sunghoon off his feet before gravity wins out.

she falls to the ground in a somehow still graceful manner, the mat below them reading “NIGHTWING - WIN” as sunghoon helps her get back on her feet.

“you know i’m going to tie that score up again, right?” canary says, cocking her head to where the scoreboard (only the two of them had a score; nobody else really needed one against canary) now read 33 - 32 in nightwing’s favor.

“counting on it. it’s the prestige of the league and the team at hand, after all,” sunghoon laughs and canary flashes him a mildly amused smile before straightening up once more.

“i know that it’s not the justice league’s jurisdiction to comment on the team’s inner workings anymore but some of the leaguers have expressed a little concern at the fact that the team is not accepting new members at this time - especially considering the fact that there are heroes like blue beetle or bumblebee who have made a considerable impact without compromising their identities in team fashion.” black canary sighs, running a hand through her blond hair before shaking her head. “but it’s not the league’s responsibility to propose additions to the team - it’s yours. specifically, nightwing’s.”

sunghoon exchanges a look with jake before shrugging. “i can appreciate the league’s trust in the team and the…forward thinking to increase our numbers. but we’ve decided that we’re not going to even consider additions to the team unless we’re all here to decide together.”

“yeah. unless aqualad and artemis are here, we’re not really jumping at the chance to make any big decisions,” jake echoes, and sunghoon sees jay shrug when soojin nods.

“i figured as much but aqualad and artemis have been in action for a while. the decision is yours but it’s hard to operate a team when 1/3 of it is currently unavailable,” canary says.

“i think you’ll find that we’re more than capable of holding our own,” jake says, arms crossed against his chest. he’s about to say something else but a look from sunghoon calms him down and just shrugs when jay looks at him.

“i don’t doubt it. but it’s just a suggestion from our own experience,” canary says, leaning over to pick up her previously discarded jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders.

“thanks. we’ll keep it in mind.” there’s no room for questioning in sunghoon’s voice in the way that he speaks but black canary appreciates the formality he carries nonetheless.

“alright. well. it’s up to you guys. i’m headed out but let me know if any of you need anything.” with that, canary bids the team goodbye, using the zeta tube to teleport out of the cave (where the team practiced and a few members of the team lived). in the next second after black canary has left, soojin uses her telepathic powers to establish a mind link between the four of them in the room, ensuring that they could all communicate via mere thoughts.

how much do you want to bet she’s going to go relay that to the justice league? jake says telepathically, eyebrows raised.

as much as you’re willing to bet that they don’t actually want us to replace members. they just want to know about what aqualad and artemis are up to, soojin retorts.

and as much as i’m willing to bet that that little black bat behind sunghoon is a bug placed by canary on batman’s orders, jay snorts, looking determinedly to the right of where sunghoon was standing.

don’t give it away, superboy. we know that they’ve bugged us and they’ll know soon enough too but let’s take the lead that we can for now. sunghoon sighs, stretching as he gathers his duffel bag with more comfortable clothes than his suit to change into.

“i’m gonna hit the showers,” he announces out loud.

“yeah, i’m not exactly feeling like i’m doing so hot the fragrance department right now,” jake says without missing a beat.

“alright, well i’m gonna go bake cookies if you wanna meet in the kitchens in a bit,” soojin says, getting up. jay rolls shoulder carefully, grinning when he finds that it doesn’t sting when he does so.

“cool. i’ll follow the crowd and take a shower too and we’ll meet you when we don’t smell like the inside of a middle school gym,” jay says, grimacing when he catches a whiff of jake’s training (which he had changed out of about 3.2 seconds after his defeat to black canary) gear. 

the three boys part ways with their friend (and in one case, girlfriend) to hit the showers. soojin turns on the mental link once more once they're out of earshot.

how far are they getting, anyway? the old bat’s not gonna be in the dark about what’s happening in his own city for very long, jake says telepathically and sunghoon sighs, turning on the hot water once they reach the showers.

i’m not sure. i last heard from aqualad two days ago but i haven’t heard from yujin in over a week.

a WEEK? sunghoon winces when he hears jake’s incredulous voice echoing in his head. YOU HAVEN’T HEARD FROM MY GIRLFRIEND IN A WEEK?

it might be my super hearing but was that loud for everyone else too? jay asks, rather innocently.

yes, jay. i don’t think that’s how it works though, sweetheart. but jake’s right, sunghoon. you haven’t heard from artemis in a week? soojin asks from wherever she is in the den.

sunghoon shuts off the water, tousling his freshly washed hair as he steps out of the showers, contemplating how much to share with the rest of the team. 

well. i’ve heard from heeseung about yujin but she herself hasn’t checked in lately. but remember, we knew that she was going to go no comms. jake, you knew that she was going to have to go under the radar from us too when they got closer to the objective.

jake doesn’t say anything, physically brushing past sunghoon to get to his own room down the hall from him.

i really hope so, sunghoon. i really hope that your objective is worth it.

[march 17, 20XX, 10:51 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“you shouldn’t be out in this part of the city this late at night,” ardor hears a voice say from behind her. she looks over her shoulder to see who was talking to her, and the person takes a step back, gasping when they make eye contact with her.

ardor was hunched over on the ground in mouth of a frighteningly dark alleyway, shivering and teeth chattering. her hair was a complete mess, her arms covered in bruises, and she was holding herself protectively.

“hey, you alright?” the person knelt next to ardor and she couldn’t help but to inch away from this new person, hands gaining new injuries from making contact with the unforgiving gravel of the alleyway.

the other person raises her hands, almost as though she were trying to prove that she wasn’t a threat to ardor, who eyes her suspiciously as she wraps her arms around her knees.

“i promise i don’t have any bad intentions, but are you alright? i think that we should get inside before it hits midnight, and maybe you can tell me what happened to you?” the woman says and ardor stares at the stranger’s helping hand before slowly reaching out her own bloodied hand, only to be interrupted by a loud crash from behind the stranger.

“well, well. if isn’t two little girls on the wrong side of town, standing too close to the bank for their own safety.” the stranger grimaces as she turns around, coming face to face with the big pain in the ass himself, icicle sr. 

“icicle, don’t you have better things to do than to terrorize gotham? like, i don’t know, spending quality time with your family? trying out a new hobby? when was the last time you picked up a book, huh?” the stranger says with a sigh, and while her tone is still lighthearted, ardor sees the stranger slowly shift into a more defensive stance, moving so that she was shielding ardor from their unwanted visitor.

“artemis, one of these days, that smart mouth is gonna land you somewhere you don’t wanna be,” icicle sr. growls, cracking his neck as he adopts a more offensive stance. ardor is silent all the while, more fixated on the blur of motion behind the big lump of human shaped ice than the ice itself.

“artemis, look out!” ardor yells. no sooner do the words leave her mouth does the blur of motion come to a halt in front of artemis, jabbing at her side. but artemis is quick, sidestepping the affront and pulling a bow and arrow out of seemingly nowhere.

the rest of the goons that were in the car suspiciously parked outside of the bank also start descending on artemis, ardor seemingly cast side for the moment. she tries to pull herself to her feet but the injuries from the impact that she had taken on her legs when she tumbled into gotham were still tender enough so that she couldn’t move too quickly.

ardor hunches over herself, looking down, only to see her foot completely twisted, facing the wrong direction.

she grimaces but tries to pull herself up regardless, a strange fire lit in her eyes. she reaches down and takes a deep breath before snapping her foot back into place, unable to keep the scream that escapes her throat inside.

“FUCK!” she screams, and this moment is the moment that changes y/n ardor faust’s fate forever. because no sooner does she yell this, a series of things happen in seemingly slow motion. 

first is that a pack of icicle sr.’s goons descend upon artemis and ardor in quick succession. the second is that artemis is quickly overwhelmed by the seven people that seemed to have manifested out of thin air - likely other, smaller goons that had been drawn to the areas like moths to a light after hearing ardor scream. the third thing is that ardor is forced to protect herself from icicle sr. himself.

“normally i’d go for the blondie but risk assessment tells me that i should take the wimp out first,” he says, cracking his knuckles. his cronies fall back a little bit, letting their ‘macho leader’ take on the injured girl himself. she supposed that he probably always took the first punch when it came to new victims. he fit the personality type of a secretly impotent man trying to secure his place in society by victimizing those around him anyway.

“alright,” ardor says. “well then, i hope this doesn’t hurt too much!”

and with that, a column of fire leaps out of her palms and straight into icicle sr.’s chest, propelling him backwards. he flies so far back that he crumples into the van that he’d arrived in, about twenty feet away.

for a moment, ardor panics, fearing that she may have accidentally killed him (she hadn’t used her powers for the past year and a half, and that meant that she was seriously out of practice). but she hears him groan and twitch, his cronies looking between her and his form against the car (which had made a serious dent on the passenger side).

“what? want me to turn up the heat on you guys too?” she snarls, a little fireball dancing on the palm of her hand.

artemis looks back to see ardor launch the fireball in the direction of the mob that had descended upon them, watching them scatter like roaches from the light of her flame, the goons piling into cars or leaping on buildings’ fire escapes to leave the scene.

artemis turns to ardor dumbfounded, to which ardor can only smile ruefully. “don’t worry - it’s cold fire. it doesn’t burn but it leaves a pretty nasty feeling. kinda like being submerged into a bucketful of icy water.”

“couldn’t you have done that before?” artemis says, shaking her head. ardor blinks at her owlishly before tilting her head. 

“um, i’ve never actually trained in combat with real people before so…” ardor says. “kinda didn’t wanna accidentally - maybe - really, hurt someone.”

artemis rolls her shoulder, where she’d shoulder-butted someone in an attempt to get them off of her. it worked, but her shoulder had to suffer for it. 

this girl had pyrokinetic powers, knew how to use them, but had never engaged in combat? it was practically impossible to think that someone who was this well-versed in their powers could exist on earth without batman knowing about them. and artemis knew for a fact that batman didn’t know about this girl because if batman knew, nightwing knew. and if he knew, and this girl was from gotham, then artemis definitely knew.

which meant that this girl was not on anyone’s radar. that usually was not a good thing.

“what’s your name?” artemis asks after a beat of silence. 

ardor thinks for a moment. “ardor.”

she didn’t know who this artemis kid was - although she was pretty sure that she was one of the good guys if someone robbing a bank wasn’t her biggest fan. but still. she didn’t come here to make friends with the wrong people. not again.

y/n faust needed to find the justice league. and she needed to make sure that she was on the right side of history this time.

“ardor,” artemis repeats slowly. she knows that ardor is not her real name, but artemis wasn’t about to supply this strange girl with her real name so she had reason to expect that ardor would give her hers. 

still, something about this girl indicated that she was hiding something that she definitely should not be. for some reason, she kind of reminded artemis of…herself.

again, signs pointing things more than a little on the fishy side.

but artemis knew better than to judge based on things like that. she herself was a super criminal’s daughter. what right did she have to judge anyone else based on their life experience?

and besides, the way ardor looked around, taking in the grimy alleyway of gotham was too innocent. it was like she was seeing it for the first time - like she was seeing everything for the first time.

“alright ardor. well, what brings you to gotham?” artemis asks. ardor looks at her and then back down at her foot, leaning against the disgusting wall of the bank that they were so inconveniently next to to relieve some of the pressure on her injured foot.

artemis could practically see the gears turning in this girl’s head and she’s once again hit with the fact that either this girl was a really good actress or she genuinely had gone under the radar this whole time. in any case, whoever had taught her to use her powers hadn’t taught her how to keep a poker face. 

“would you believe me if i said i came from another dimension? to look for the justice league?”

artemis searches ardor’s face, furrowing her eyebrows when she doesn’t see a single trace of lying in her eyes. she was speaking the whole, genuine truth. which of course, would have to be verified by batman and the rest of the league but as far as this girl herself knew, she was telling the truth.

she sighs, shaking her head and pulling out a transmission device on a secure line.

“sure. we have a speed force and zeta tubes. why not have alternate dimensions?” she mumbles under her breath, clicking a few buttons on the transmission device. 

“nightwing? pull me out. i’ve secured the objective and uh, a friend that i think you should meet.”

[march 18, 20XX, 12:19 a.m.]

[happy harbor bowl-o-rama, happy harbor, rhode island]

“does everything in your dimension look this…depressing?” ardor asks, wide-eyed as she takes in the rather sad state of the bowl-o-rama. 

artemis exchanges a look with nightwing before shrugging. “i mean, you did come straight from gotham right? that’s not exactly the happiest place to start off in…a different…dimension.”

nightwing nods. “yeah. what’s your dimension like? less crazy than icicle sr., i hope?”

there’s a wry smile on ardor’s face that feels out of place. like she’s not used to such an emotion.

“i don’t know; i wouldn’t call it less crazy necessarily. i mean, nothing’s ever normal when klarion’s involved,” she says, deep in thought. nightwing pauses, doing a double take and looking at artemis. 

don’t look at me! i have no clue what this kid knows either, she says telepathically. miss martian hadn’t made ardor’s acquaintance, since nightwing wanted to keep this as under wraps as possible before deciding their next steps.

“i’m sorry, did you say klarion? as in klarion the witch?” nightwing says incredulously. ardor blinks, before nodding slowly. 

“you’re not his friends are you? i doubt it, since klar doesn’t exactly do friends and his friends are definitely not as nice as you guys have been but of course, that could just be a false front as you wait for me to let down my guard so you can kidnap me and send me back to my dimension.” 

now it’s nightwing and artemis’s turn to blink at ardor. i see what you mean, yujin. she’s definitely not showing up on any of our databases so i don’t think that she’s an undercover agent because she’s not really giving any of those signs. not to mention that ‘klar’ mixed with alternate dimensions is a pretty severe indication that this girl probably has been living a life hard to understand by our standards. and…as much as i can’t stand klarion and his stupid evil magic stuff, i think that her association with him might not be as evil as we think it is.

“no, we’re not his friends. in fact, i don’t think that he likes us very much at all,” artemis says gently. ardor’s eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting of the bowl-o-rama when artemis says this, and she leans forward excitedly.

“you wouldn’t happen to be connected to the justice league, would you? they’re pretty much the only people that i know for a fact klarion hates with a passion - and that means a lot for a warlock with the emotional maturity of a prepubescent boy,” ardor says. nightwing fights to keep the smile off of his face at ardor’s enthusiastic spirit at the sight of finding those who didn’t like her acquaintance (?). 

it’s easy enough to do when the questions in his mind start to spin out of control.

“we’re familiar with people who could get you in touch with the justice league, sure. but before we do that, do you mind telling us why you’re here? in this dimension? and maybe why you’re willing to look for people who are actively working against your…acquaintance?” ardor’s smile from before starts to fade with nightwing’s torrent of questions as she looks down at her bandaged ankle, trying to come up with all of the answers to his questions.

“um. well, sure. but please, you have to promise to hear me out fully before you decide anything! and whatever i tell you, please please don’t send me back to where i came from. even though i’m pretty sure that’s kind of impossible without dark magic, i just really can’t go back,” ardor says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

artemis reaches out to place one of her hands over ardor’s hands clasped over the table that they were sitting at.

“i promise that we’ll give you a fair chance to explain yourself,” artemis says. “trust me.”

careful yujin. you said that she’s got pyrokinetic powers but we don’t know what else she’s got, nightwing says through the link, never once moving a muscle on his face.

i know that, sunghoon. but we’ve all had our fair share of dark pasts. we’ve gotta at least hear her out. and innocent until proven guilty, remember? artemis fires back, tuning back in when ardor opens her mouth to explain.

i know i’m not supposed to sift through her mind, but if it makes either of you safer, from what i can tell just from being as minimally invasive as possible to keep her from knowing i’m in her mind, she’s telling the truth, soojin says through the mindlink that allowed them to speak to each other and artemis almost misses the way that nightwing relaxes subconsciously, fighting to keep the smile off her face.

“uh…i guess there’s no easy way of putting it but my name is y/n faust. as in the daughter of felix faust, the magician,” ardor - y/n - begins. both artemis and nightwing nod, as if to coax her into continuing, thoughts racing at a mile per minute.

“i’m not really sure who my mom is. but i found out a year ago that my father moved me from this dimension, where i was born, to the dimension he created to keep me locked away from this world. he told me that it was too dangerous here and that he created that dimension to protect me from the horrors of this world - something like the story of rapunzel, if you guys have that in dimension.

“i’ve been living in a sense of seclusion for the past eighteen years. for seventeen years, i believed everything that he said. i thought it genuinely was dangerous in this dimension and that my dad was keeping me isolated from everything and everyone because he didn’t want me to get hurt. but there were things that just stopped adding up - if he was truly trying to protect me, why was he always in a different dimension, fighting those people called the ‘justice league’ instead of staying in my dimension and protecting me? why were the only people who were allowed in my dimension scary looking people like klarion? why did he only ever teach me out to make pretty shapes and do stupid party tricks with my powers instead of ever teaching me how to protect myself? why didn’t he ever let me see what the dimension next to me looked like? if it was so bad that i wouldn’t be able to survive, letting me see such a horrible dimension would make me want to run straight back into my safe little bubble, wouldn’t it?

“the questions kept adding up and i just never got any answers that i needed from my dad. one day, i managed to get klarion to confess exactly how i got stuck in that dimension and why my dad never let me leave. he never told me the full story - and obviously, i had to take everything he said with a grain of salt - but i’d gleaned enough to understand two things: one, my father was hiding me from the world, sure, but mostly from a specific person. two, he wasn’t the good guy like he was parading himself to be before i’d been able to trick into klarion telling me. i don’t think i actually tricked him, to be honest. i’m pretty sure he only told me out of spite for something my dad had done, but he told me anyway.”

artemis leans back in her chair, letting out a low whistle as her and nightwing process everything that y/n had just revealed to the two of them.

“i never knew faust had a kid,” nightwing says softly, and y/n (ardor?) shrugs, a wry smile wringing at her lips.

“faust’s kid didn’t really know there was a whole different dimensional world until last year so i won’t hold it against you,” she says. artemis and nightwing exchange a look.

soojin, i know that we’ve been pretty against mind-searching but do you think you could do a quick scan - as much as you can without getting caught - so that we can verify her story. i want to believe her but that’s a lot of information that can’t be checked otherwise. i mean if she’s really from a different dimension, there’s no telling what exactly happened in that dimension, nightwing thinks through the mindlink.

“so what made you come look for the justice league?” artemis voices out loud and y/n looks back down at her foot before shaking her head. 

“my dad and his so called friends are doing some bad stuff in this dimension. i don’t know exactly what he’s doing but i think i have some intel that might be able to get the justice league ahead of my dad and his friends this time. because i don’t think this dimension should have to see the light.”

artemis bristles at the mention of the light. an evil counterpart to the justice league, the light was capable of any level of evil that the justice league was seeking to put an end to but with the company of various high level figures such as vandal savage, klarion the witch boy, felix faust, ra’s al ghul, and lex luthor. 

even her father, sportsmaster. 

they were twisted, evil people who thought that the best way to elevate humanity and make them the ‘ultimate ruling race of the universe’ was to eliminate those who were ‘too weak to serve their purpose’ and use the rest as braindead killing machines.

all for power. everything just for power.

which was why any and all intelligence that could be provided in the fight to first figure out what the light were up to and then to figure out how to stop it was of defcon priority one.

but a single look at nightwing’s face is enough to tell artemis that she might be the only one thinking that way.

sunghoon was lost in thought, analyzing the behavior of the girl in front of them carefully. his body language was cautiously open, showing that he was open to whatever information she was presenting to them, but his arms were crossed over the table that they were sitting so that it looked like he was leaning over to examine y/n and every single tell that she was giving.

“so that explains your search for the justice league then. and i guess the pyrokinetics. any chance you might clue us in on what information you have on the light?” nightwing asks, and y/n shrinks back, suddenly looking very unsure of herself.

“i - i don’t think so. you both have been very nice and i really have to thank you for being one of the good guys and not hurting me in my time here but i, uh, really would rather talk to the justice league. when i landed in gotham, i saw batman on one of the justice league posters. i don’t know any of the other members of the justice league so if it would be possible, i’d like to tell him directly,” y/n says with a somewhat regretful tone. “not that i don’t trust you guys! i think you would’ve hurt me already if you wanted to. but…from what i can tell, the light are some really dangerous people. i just don’t want more people to get hurt than i can help.”

anything, soojin?

nothing, sunghoon. she’s clean. she’s telling the truth. but i do have to say that she’s keeping something from the two of you. it’s nothing evil, but it’s definitely something personal. i wouldn’t ask her about it because i’m pretty sure it’s private business but i do think that it might be important later so make sure that you make her feel comfortable enough to ask, soojin responds and sunghoon makes sure to file away the information in his brain before tuning back into the conversation. 

“…we totally understand where you’re coming from, y/n,” artemis is saying when he starts listening again. “and since it seems like you don’t have too many friends to stay with in this dimension, why don’t we take you to one of our safe houses before we can determine our next steps? like you said, we’re dealing with some pretty powerful and not so nice people. we want to make sure that everyone is safe before we do anything.”

“sure. i understand.” y/n pauses, seemingly hesitant as she looks down at her clothes. it’s only then that nightwing realizes that her clothes are somewhat torn from her scuffle (and undoubtedly from her tumble into their dimension).

“do you - i mean, only if you want - a change of clothes maybe? i’m not really sure what’s fashionable in your dimension but i’m sure artemis can conjure something up in your size. not that you won’t look good in whatever…if you care about that. not that you should! or shouldn’t, of course,” nightwing says, tripping over his words as he speaks. yujin turns to him with a interested glint in her eyes that signaled nothing less than i’m onto you as she turns back to y/n with a soft smile, who’s blinking at the two of them owlishly.

“uh…to be honest, when the only other female figure in your life is talia al ghul, you learn to kind of make your own fashion standards,” she says slowly, a small smile on her face.

“right. makes sense.” sunghoon stands up abruptly, unsure why he was tripping over his words and making himself seem like such a loser all of a sudden. “i’ll leave you two to it then. i have some things i need to take care of elsewhere.” 

some things? you mean me, sunghoon? aqualad says in sunghoon’s mind and it takes everything in him to keep from freaking out in front of y/n and artemis, although the latter was faring no better than he was.

heeseung had been checking in - more frequently than yujin had been, anyway - but given the objective he’d been given, it worried sunghoon more than he cared to let on when he didn’t hear from him in over six days.

or did you mean anywhere but here, by elsewhere? jay adds and sunghoon can hear the thinly veiled poke at sunghoon’s floundering in front of y/n before. 

see, this is why i hate superpowers sometimes, sunghoon grumbles, pushing the door to the bowl-o-rama open. and heeseung, i thought we were meeting directly at mount justice whenever you secured the objective?

already finished the objective, captain. i was just dropping by here since i was told by kid flash that there was an interesting show going on at the bowl-o-rama. i wanted to provide reinforcements if they were needed, heeseung says nonchalantly. 

you’re just itching for seeing me make a fool of myself, sunghoon corrects and even soojin can’t keep the laugh out of her voice.

she is very pretty, to be fair. i’d probably fumble my words too. i just thought you’d be a little more suave for someone like you, nightwing, soojin says. 

that’s - that’s not why i was fumbling. and besides, we don’t even know for sure if she’s really on our side or not. she might just be a horribly good actress and i don’t want to really give her the benefit of the doubt right now. that’s up to batman, nightwing says gruffly. but he still can’t help but turn around and glance inside the bowl-o-rama, where y/n is laughing at something that artemis is saying.

sunghoon shakes his head, unable to keep the smallest of smiles off his face. sunghoon is nightwing. he’s cool. suave. the boy wonder. he doesn’t get flustered in front of pretty girls. no, he flusters pretty girls. sunghoon is the man!

uh, boy wonder? big guy in blue? gray son of gotham? we can still hear you, jake says and this time, not even soojin keeps herself from laughing.

fuck my life. and fuck you guys too.

[march 18, 20XX, 8:19 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“how long has the bat been in there?” jake asks, munching on an apple. yujin not so subtly jumps away from the door of the room that batman and ardor were sitting in, discussing whatever it was that she had on the light.

“at least forty-five minutes. i mean she said she didn’t have much so i don’t even know what they’re talking about this point,” yujin huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the door.

“you’re awfully overprotective over someone you met less than twelve hours ago,” jake comments and yujin rolls her eyes, pulling jake’s arm so that he stumbled over to her.

“and you’re awfully jealous of my attention being on a girl i met twelve hours ago,” yujins reasons, and jake leans forward to press a kiss to her lips, only to jump backwards when they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“i understand that the two of you have been separated for quite some time but don’t you think that reunions should be done in places that are more private? such as perhaps the home that the two of you share?” heeseung says with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow.

“lighten up aqualad,” jake says, punching him in the arm. “don’t worry, i was concerned for you too. i missed having to hide from people like i was going to get in trouble for kissing my girlfriend.”

“speaking of getting in trouble,” heeseung begins, pushing jake’s hand off of his arm. “don’t you two have school?”

“oh shit! it’s already 8:20? we’ve got ten minutes to get to class!” yujin says, checking her watch. she leans over to press a chaste kiss to jake’s cheek before rushing over to the zeta tubes to transport her directly to palo alto, jake hurrying to follow suit.

“you haven’t been back for more than a day and you’re already on parenting duty?” sunghoon asks, leaning against a pillar, mug of coffee in hand.

heeseung shrugs, nodding towards the door that was still closed. “well someone has to get them away from this door and back to their degrees.”

“i could barely keep them off of each other for long enough to get a mission briefing from her last night,” sunghoon says, shivering as he recalls the horrible sight of having to watch jake physically have to be separated from yujin when they reunited in mount justice last night.

“you say this now but you were definitely killing yourself trying to make sure that she was alright when she went under. especially since i bet kid flash was giving you hell about it,” heeseung says with a knowing glint in his eyes. sunghoon just offers him a tired smile as he waves, retreating into the kitchen.

“you’re welcome to take back team leader position whenever you’d like to, aqualad,” sunghoon calls out from the kitchen.

“no thanks. i’ve already got the title of ‘aquaman’ hanging over my head. i don’t think i’ll be itching for any new titles any time soon,” heeseung calls back. sunghoon sticks his neck out over the counter that separated the general meeting space from the living space, an incredulous look on his face.

“so it’s true? arthur’s handing over the mantle of aquaman?” he asks, now fortified with a plate of buttered toast. heeseung sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as he sits down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter.

“yeah. it’s hard to manage being the king of atlantis and the representative of atlantis in the justice league so he’s been asking for a while if i wanted to take on the responsibilities of aquaman,” heeseung says softly.

sunghoon lets out a low whistle, looking up at the bright lights of the kitchen before looking back at heeseung.

“what do you think? i mean…i hate to say it but you’d have to leave the team if you were to become justice league material. you know, our team being covert and all.” sunghoon’s tone is light, almost as if he were jesting but both heeseung and sunghoon know that his heart is heavy.

“you, jay, and i formed this team together. and with so many new threats, it feels as though i have had such little time with our team. i just can’t imagine leaving it so soon,” heeseung says comfortingly but sunghoon is able to read between the lines.

“but you have a responsibility and a duty towards your king,” sunghoon says, his words filling in the blanks. 

“it won’t be anytime soon - if i were to accept the offer - but i figured it would be best to talk it over with the team leader before i made any decisions,” heeseung explains. “not to mention that our team has changed quite a bit in the past year already. i’m just considering all the routes to be taken right now. especially since the fact that entry into the justice league would be to abandon the covert identity of the team to expose myself to the public. for a good cause, of course, but i could never return to a secret team such as our own ever again.”

“hm. whatever you decide, it’ll be the right decision, heeseung. i can tell you that much. and as your team leader, i’d like to remind you that this team will always need you and have a spot on the team for you, so long as your identity remains covert. but at the same time, this team will never stay the same forever. i think that jake and yujin moving out to california was the first indication of that. but that doesn’t mean that our friendships or that our team will ever lose you,” sunghoon says after a moment of contemplation.

heeseung finally smiles a relieved smile. “it brings me great comfort to hear you speak that way, old friend.”

sunghoon can’t offer more than a bittersweet smile, and heeseung and sunghoon both know that things have been different between the three founding members for a long while now, even if they all hated to admit it.

“batman has asked you many times if you wanted to turn to fighting crime in the name of the justice league, has he not?” heeseung asks. 

“yeah. he has. but i don’t know. i don’t think i’m ready to leave this team just yet,” sunghoon says, and for some reason, he finds his gaze trailing over to the door that was still shut. usually the therapy room was occupied for no more than twenty minutes (or longer if the mission had been particularly mentally taxing, but that was very rare).

“yes. there is still much to be done. many people to save,” heeseung says, and sunghoon snaps his gaze back to heeseung’s knowing one and for some reason, although the age difference between heeseung and sunghoon is but a year and a half, for some reason, it feels as though heeseung is lightyears ahead of sunghoon.

“i’m not into her,” sunghoon says feverishly, but heeseung just shrugs.

“i never said you were. she is someone to save, is she not?”

sunghoon doesn’t know what to say to that, but he finds that he’s saved (once again) by his old mentor, and batman steps out of the therapy room, y/n behind him, her eyes red and swollen, as if she’d been crying.

“i expect that mount justice has space for one more inhabitant?” he asks, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he’s not exactly asking. 

in fact, batman rarely used words that he didn’t exactly need to use. ‘mount justice’ meant that y/n was safest here, in a secret location that was used by the team as a secret headquarters. that meant that she was probably in danger - from the light, at sunghoon’s best guess. the fact that he also said ‘one more inhabitant’ meant that y/n’s powers (which had been described briefly by yujin) were to be utilized for good.

if sunghoon chose to. or realistically, if the team decided that she would be a good fit and that adding her to the team wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in.

“we have the space,” sunghoon says carefully, and batman almost smiles at the caution that he’s drilled into his mentee so many times in the past.

“she needs a place to stay. and she can hold her own - she’d be a good addition to the team,” batman confirms, and sunghoon can hear the true message behind his words.

she’s safe. her story checks out. you can trust her.

batman has never been wrong in the past; sunghoon saw no reason to start questioning him now.

and besides, when sunghoon had done some digging of his own last night, her saw that y/n’s story mostly checked out. at the very least, it would explain the inter-dimensional issues that were growing larger, according to doctor fate. 

“then, i am going to leave sunghoon to showing you to your room. i have some business on atlantis to attend to,” heeseung says, and sunghoon catches the stray glance he throws at him, choosing to ignore it steadily.

“i’ll head out then, too. but nightwing, i’d like to have a one on one with you later on,” batman adds and it’s slight, barely there (as much of batman’s emotion usually was) but sunghoon can hear the faint jest in his words.

the cave (the nickname that they called the area where the training grounds, zeta tubes, and the therapy room were all located in, adjacent to the kitchen) grew emptier as the zeta tubes rang out twice, reading out batman and aqualad’s recognition numbers.

“and then there were two,” sunghoon says, largely to himself. y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she pouts, trying to recall if she’d ever heard the phrase before.

“i thought the book was called and then there were none?” she asks slowly and sunghoon shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

“i guess there’s a lot of gap between inter-dimensional sayings.”

“probably. the only saying that i know of is ‘don’t venture too far into the darkness or you’ll die.’ i didn’t know how to tell my dad that i was scared of the dark anyway.”

“for someone who grew up around the light, you’re pretty softhearted.”

“eh, it’s easy to not listen when your powers involve pyrokinetics. you know, because fire? and fire emits light? light beats darkness? also, you know my dad is involved with the light, right? it’s all pretty ironic and hypocritical if you stop to think about it.”

sunghoon blinks, unsure if how they ended up in this conversation all of a sudden. huh. it wasn’t like him to lose track of a conversation like that. to be fair, when your conversational partner is usually jake sim, half the time sunghoon was just stuck asking him to stop talking at the speed of sound.

literally.

“uh-huh. anyway, let me show you your room,” sunghoon says, rounding the corner to exit the kitchen and reach where y/n was standing. the two of them walk side by side and sunghoon leads her down the hallway past the amenities (pointing out the essential ones - the gaming room - as they walked) towards the bedroom.

“i’m sorry. i’m not being a burden staying here, right?” she asks after a lull in the sunghoon’s tour guide speech. sunghoon looks at her, somewhat startled by the question.

“why would you be a burden?”

y/n sighs, looking at the ground as they walked, finally stopping in front of the room that she had slept in yesterday. “i don’t know, but i’ve just been alone for my entire life. the closest person i had to someone that was kinda my age was klarion, the witchboy himself, and he doesn’t exactly make good company. i don’t really know what it’s like to be around people my age all the time - especially not people i thought were evil for so long.”

“you thought we were evil?” sunghoon asks and he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth. here this girl was, risking her life to share information to save them, and confiding her feelings to him and sunghoon was butthurt about being called evil. what happened to being suave? the big guy in blue? the smooth-talking hero that dropped panties?

maybe the last part was a tad bit tonedeaf. and unnecessary.

“uh. yeah. that’s why i was told i shouldn’t come to this dimension? why the justice league was bad and we should all ‘see the light’?” y/n says. 

“right. sorry. um. how did you figure out that the light wasn’t really the good guys if the information you got in that dimension was so controlled? i can’t imagine klarion just letting up information like that. i know that you said that he did it to spite your dad, but it’s just so strange, is it not? i mean, klarion may be a pain in the ass but he’s not stupid enough to risk falling on the other side of the light’s alliances,” sunghoon says after a beat and y/n shrugs, but her eyes are guarded.

“it’s a long story,” she says, and sunghoon is left wondering if maybe batman had had the same question. that’s probably why the ‘interrogation’ too so long earlier, he realizes belatedly.

“i won’t pry. but y/n, i do have to remind you that the more information you’re ready to share with us, the more prepared we are when the light comes to this dimension to wreak whatever havoc you want to prevent,” sunghoon says, picking and choosing his words very carefully.

“and i’ve already given all the information i have to the justice league. i don’t know why i should have to share the information i have with every single person in this dimension. and besides, what does my personal enlightenment have to do with the light’s plans?” y/n asks, her tone quick and sharp, unlike sunghoon has ever heard her before.

granted, he only knew her for a total of about ten hours, but still. he never expected to hear such a tone from a girl like her, especially when she had been so open before. but it was like she said - when your only female figure is talia al ghul, it’s hard to imagine trying to be anything but the most cunning and cutthroat person possible. maybe all of her friendliness was just a facade and this was her true personality?

speaking of female figures, sunghoon wonders what had happened to her mother. clearly, she wasn’t in the picture if y/n had no clue who she was. but sunghoon knew from his own time as the detective of the team that oftentimes, in cases where the children were isolated from the rest of the world and raised by a singular parent, it was a trauma response from a behavior from the other parent.

of course, it wasn’t as though sunghoon had a bunch of cases to base his theories off of, but the patterns were almost glaringly obvious in the few cases that he did have.

“right. i’m sorry if i was prying. i just - never mind. i’m sorry y/n. you’re entitled to your privacy,” he says, stepping back from the doorway of y/n’s room to turn around and leave when he feels a hand grab onto his wrist.

his first instinct is to flip the owner of it over his shoulder and press a knife to their neck (battle worn responses, courtesy of training with batman and black canary) but for some reason, his second instinct is to cover y/n’s hand with his own. and sunghoon definitely doesn’t have any answers for why exactly.

“i’m sorry. i know i’m being touchy. it’s just that everything is just so new and so much. and like i said, i went a good part of my life thinking that you guys were the bad guys; it’s hard to remember that i can actually tell people things. and you know, trust people with information. you gotta give me some time. i promise, i’ve already said everything that’s absolutely vital to say,” she says, offering a sheepish look as an olive branch.

sunghoon’s heart pangs with guilt, and he takes another step back, barely registering the look in y/n’s eyes when his wrist disconnects from her hand. “yeah, of course. trust me, i know what it’s like better than most people what it’s like to feel like you can’t trust those around you. especially when you’ve just been thrown into a new environment. i’ll leave you to getting settled in.”

he turns around, making his way down the hallway, stopping halfway and turning around, only to make eye contact with y/n, who was watching him walk, her hand on the doorway and her body leaning slightly out of the room to get a better look.

“um. soojin and jay should be awake soon. they live here so you’ll never be completely alone, so don’t worry about safety or anything, okay?” he says awkwardly, trying to offer some sort of explanation of why exactly he kept hesitating to leave her standing there.

“thanks. that’s good to hear. but um, you don’t live here?” she asks, thumbing the metal of the doorway.

“nah. just soojin and jay. the rest of us live in our own places outside of mount justice,” sunghoon says, and he can’t help the eyebrow that cocks upwards, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. “why? would you prefer if i did?”

“no! i mean, no! i mean, like, i don’t have a preference if you lived here or not - it would be totally cool either way. i just - i was just asking,” she says, stumbling over her words and sunghoon finally feels the tension in his shoulders melt. turns out, his charm still worked on cute girls. even cute girls who’ve been surrounded by psychopaths like talia al ghul and klarion the witchboy.

for some reason, that thought suddenly makes the tension return to his shoulders.

“whatever you say, y/n.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“i assume you didn’t ask me to come back to gotham to feed me dinner, eunwoo,” sunghoon says, but he helps himself to another serving of steak, which doesn’t go unnoticed by neither eunwoo (batman, and the man that had raised sunghoon ever since he was orphaned) nor alfred (the family butler who had truly raised sunghoon). 

“no. but i figured that it would be appreciated,” eunwoo says, and sunghoon can hear the affection practically dripping from his voice. when sunghoon had first seen eunwoo don the attire of the ‘batman’ suit, he’d been shocked.

sunghoon had always known eunwoo as a rather sweet and disciplined man, but he’d never imagined that eunwoo would also have the side of him that showed unreal levels of intelligence, seriousness, and a thirst for justice that he’d successfully passed down to sunghoon.

“alfred’s cooking never goes unappreciated, that much i can guarantee.” sunghoon sets down his fork, chewing slowly as he lets the silence between them grow longer.

when he was younger, full of passion to prove his worth to batman, sunghoon would run his mouth with things he’d learned or discovered, unintentionally telling batman many things that he probably wouldn’t have in other circumstances, just to fill the silence. but now, sunghoon just ate quietly, feigning nonchalance.

he knows that he’s won the battle of wits when eunwoo breaks the silence.

“so about ardor,” eunwoo begins. his eyes are trained on the food in front of him but sunghoon knows that all of his attention is on him. “she’s interesting. she’s shared some information that’s hard to believe but if it’s true, it could put at a serious advantage above the light.”

“right. well, i hope that information reaches the right people,” sunghoon says, shutting his eyes in regret when he realizes the freudian slip he’d let through his filtering system.

“what do you mean by that, young master?” alfred asks, and sunghoon sighs, knowing that the question was said by alfred but it was coming from batman. and sunghoon could never really keep any secrets from alfred anyway. the old man had a way of weaseling secrets out of him; sunghoon figures that alfred was secretly in espionage before retiring to help eunwoo take over cha enterprises.

or something like that, anyway.

“i just mean that she really emphasized that the information should get to the right people. she landed in gotham after she escaped the dimension she’s from. now i don’t know how much control she had of where she landed, but she’s mentioned many times that she thought that the justice league was evil. but the very point of our team is espionage and identity protection; there’s no reason that she should have to suspecting us, since she would have no idea who we were. but she still refused to tell us any information and insisted on only telling batman, who could’ve been proven to be evil, for all she knew.

“it could just be because she landed in gotham and did a little bit of research to figure out who the vigilante of gotham was, fixated on that singular person, and decided not to trust anyone else because of the people she’s been exposed to her entire life. but someone so skittish wouldn’t reveal any details to anyone and just insist on talking to you - batman - the whole time. there’s no real reason she had to give us any details if she truly didn’t trust us.

“so, that can’t be the reason why she was so hesitant sharing the information about the light with the rest of us. my guess? we’ve got a mole in the justice league or in the team. it’s likely not the team, since everyone just came back from their objectives safely and soojin would definitely realize if someone had been turned with her mind-reading capacity. i don’t doubt that martian manhunter, since he has the same set of powers, would also be able to see if there’s a mole in the justice league. but it’s different. not only is soojin more powerful, she’s also got an emotional link between the six of us - we all read certain signatures in her mind and she’s the first one to know whenever one of us have the slightest changes in our emotions. she’d figure out a mole in a second.

“so that rules out the team. her information must have something to do with the light having a mole. but she doesn’t know anyone else in the justice league, or maybe she knew for a fact that you weren’t the mole, which is why she’s been so fixated on finding you and telling you everything else. i assume that you’re only even telling me anything after verifying her information and getting her consent to tell me, if you found me safe enough to tell.” sunghoon can practically see the brainwaves radiating off of batman, analyzing every word that sunghoon had chosen to use to explaining his reasoning.

sunghoon hadn’t planned on revealing that soojin’s (and the team’s) bond ran deeper than just connecting them telepathically, but at least by telling batman that, he’d realize that the team was more than capable of taking care of each other and that they definitely didn’t need any new members right now.

besides y/n. if she wanted to join the team, sunghoon honestly wasn’t opposed to the idea of her joining, and he doubted that anyone else was truly offended by her presence. she’d be rather welcome, he thinks.

which is not what he should be thinking of right now. right.

“you’ve deduced the truth. there’s a mole in the justice league,” eunwoo says, shaking his head and leaning back into his chair. “but if we were to brute force it and try and figure out who it was in a way that’s obvious, the light would either find someone else to manipulate or just declare all out war on the justice league. and considering the members of the light, we cannot afford a war like that right now.”

his gaze turns to sunghoon, and grows thoughtful. “but the team can help us out. you specialize in espionage. it would be considerably easier for the team to find the mole, since the light isn’t exactly aware of the team besides chance encounters with a few villains here and there that might be affiliated with the light. in addition, if ardor were to be part of the team, she would have an easier time easing into this dimension, or maybe even be able to point out exactly who the mole is if she’s ever seen them before.”

“are you sure that y/n should be on the battlefield though? i don’t doubt her abilities but we really don’t know how strong she is. and she’d be fighting people she was once on the same side as,” sunghoon points out and eunwoo’s face grows visibly sad, something that sunghoon has seen very rarely during all of his time with him.

“i know. and i hate to ask that of her. but you and i know better than anyone else what it’s like to grow up around such evil people throughout your entire life. and having no one else to turn to? she needs people her age around her who can show her what life is supposed to be like. no one else should have to suffer like she did, but something tells me that she’s strong enough to be able to point the proverbial finger at the proverbial villain. living with such people could not have been easy. i hate to ask her to channel her revenge in this way but - ” eunwoo cuts off when he sees the look in sunghoon’s eyes.

“i’m not going to ask her to stand in danger’s way just so that it’s easier for us to beat the people that she’s always grown up with - the only people she’s known for her entire life. but the team will help her assimilate into this dimension. we’ll be her friends,” sunghoon says, and his voice has a protective edge to it that he can’t bother to disguise.

“just promise me that if she ever wants to join the team, you don’t shut her out,” eunwoo says finally. “give her a chance.”

sunghoon just looks at eunwoo. “i won’t stop myself from doing what’s best for the team.”

dinner is relatively quiet after that, alfred starting conversations here and there about sunghoon’s day job as a detective (it was relatively easy to deal with normal, petty crime here and there when there were so many crimes that involved superhuman people with streaks of world domination). but other than that, the three of them were rather silent, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

sunghoon excuses himself, offering to wash the dishes to take the load off of alfred, gathering the plates and balancing them delicately as he leaves the room to reach the kitchen.

alfred looks over to eunwoo, who’s looking up at the light fixture that they’d installed three years ago, at sunghoon’s request.

“our dining room looks more like a funeral room, eunwoo,” sunghoon had said. “come on, old bat. let’s add some color. some pizzazz.”

“pizzazz?” eunwoo had asked, eyebrows raised in humor.

“you know, whatever young kids call it these days.”

“you’re nineteen, sunghoon.”

“and you’re twenty-four. we all need some more life in this place. you’d think we’re all alfred’s age with the way this house looks.”

“young master, what offense has my age brought in all of this?”

“sorry alfred. low hanging fruit.”

“that feels like a euphemism.”

“that’s gross.”

eunwoo sighs, a quick huff of air escaping his mouth. that was about as close to a laugh as alfred was used to these days, anyway.

“when did we end up like this, alfred? he used to look up to me for everything. we did everything together. and i still love the kid half to death but it’s just difficult when it feels like we’re fighting about everything,” eunwoo says, never taking his eyes off of the light fixture. what do you know? it did have some pizzazz.

“that’s a part of raising kids, young master. you learn that at some point, the world is no longer ours. it’s the next generations. and they might not listen to elders’ advice because they have their own plans for the world but if there’s anything i’ve learned in raising you, it’s that oftentimes, their head is in the right place. they see things in ways that we cannot.” alfred smiles, leaving his seat in the middle of the table to sit right next to eunwoo, his gaze warm and comforting.

“he’s not my actual son, you know that right?” eunwoo says and alfred leans over to smack him upside the head - something that many people would dare to do to the batman.

“and you know as well as i do that blood relations means nothing when it comes to family, don’t you?” alfred says gently, his tone as firm as a warm hand clasped in a friend’s.

eunwoo glances at the doorway that led down to the kitchen and smiles faintly. 

“yeah. i know that.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[???]

“YOU WHAT?” felix faust roars, fisting klarion’s freshly pressed shirt in angry palms. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY DAUGHTER?”

“alright pal, i’m gonna let that one go because i’m not in the mood right now. calm down,” klarion says, pushing faust off of him. 

“YOU TOLD MY DAUGHTER THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS DIMENSION AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? YOU MOTHERFU - ” faust never gets to finish the rest of his sentence because the second that he gets back in klarion’s face, the witchboy casts a spell over him, causing him to fall asleep right where he was standing.

klarion looks at his slumped figure on the ground, almost disgusted before clicking his tongue. “i don’t know where these lower level peasants get all their audacity from.”

he looks around for teekles, his cat familiar, stretching his arms out for teekles to jump into.

“hm. it would be a big issue with the rest of the light if they realize that faust’s daughter is missing. pah, i don’t know why i helped him keep her here the whole time. she was gonna be a liability anyway,” klarion mutters to himself. “then again, i guess i was the one who let her out. and told her the truth. well. it was bound to come out at some point.”

he shrugs, ready to walk away when teekles meows in his arms and he groans, stamping his feet childishly.

“what do you mean i have to clean up my mess? i don’t wanna!” klarion says but teekles just meows at him once more and klarion drags himself, kicking and screaming to the dimensional pocket that lead him in and out of this isolated bubble dimension faust had created to isolate his daughter.

“i’m not going to tell the light just yet. let’s see where this girl could’ve gone. oh bother. this is too much trouble for the five minutes of fun i got.”

“meow.”

“i don’t appreciate the sass, teekles.”

and in his childish hurry, for all of his wit, klarion the witchboy is none the wiser when felix faust rises from his slumber, plotting the death of his own daughter.

[ermegtei]

❝orange sheets❞

៚ tighnari, kazuha, xiao, albedo

ᝰ mornings with genshin boys ☆

꒦꒷ i had a fun time writing this so i wanted to share it ;) UNEDITED pls ignore my mistakes i'll fix it later &lt;;/3

tighnari loves admiring your sleeping face.

perhaps it's the drool that's rolling down your chin. or your rosy cheeks, likely due to you sleeping under the blanket. either way, you're adorable. he could just look at your face for hours and hours until you wake up—ah... you woke up already.

then come on, get ready with tighnari.

he smooches you, seperating with a pop!. a small groan escapes your throat from the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

"you wanna get up?" a slow nod was all he needed to push down the blanket and hop off of the bed, scrunching his nose as he stretched his sore muscles.

despite the walk to the bathroom being very shot, you still held hands, intertwining your fingers with his. you missed him, even in your slumber.

getting up early together was uncommon. one of you wakes up earlier than the other and leaves for lecture while the other... well yknow.

you sat on the toilet, rubbing your eyes since you were still groggy from the deep sleep you had. you hadn't slept like this for a while. was it because you didn't have to force yourself up from the alarm or was it because you rested well in his arms?

your thoughts were interrupted from your red pucca toothbrush in your face with toothpaste on it. ah, you forgot you left your toothbrush at his home.

you lazily took it from his hand as you glanced up to see him with his garu toothbrush in his mouth, a smile decorating his face at your droopy eyes.

in each others eyes, you both looked like love itself.

you put your toothbrush in your mouth but you didn't make an effort to actually brush your teeth, just letting it stay there, resting on your tongue while a few drops of water dripped onto your face from tighnari rinsing his mouth.

he wiped his hands with your shared pink towel and with a raised eyebrow, he asked—

"aren't you gonna brush your teeth?"

"i'm.. tired." despite the satisfying sleep you still couldn't move your arms.

he crossed his arms, an amused look on his face as he watched you sit still, perhaps hoping for something.

"you're not a kid anymore." he grumbled, crouching down infront of you as he pushed your bangs out of your face before grabbing the toothbrush, holding it in a position comfortable for both of you.

he let out an ahh as if telling you to open your mouth, so you did.

kazuha is... confusing.

he's both a heavy sleeper and a very light sleeper.

sometimes he wakes up at the asscrack of dawn because you sleeptalked a bit. sometimes you could be laying on top of him, suffocating him and he would still be sleeping like a bear.

and today was one of those bear days as you called it.

it was 12:56am. though not very late, you woke up hours ago and you were incredibly bored so you tried doing many things to wake him up.

you poked his cheek, gave it a few hard slaps, even tugged on his hair and gave him cpr because you were starting to get concerned for your boyfriend who didn't move a single muscle during these long dreadful hours.

you hoped these would've woke him since you didn't wanna exactly shake him awake but it did little to nothing so you gave up, pouting and slowly facing the other way to leave kazuha alone and maybe get a bit of sleep yourself.

and it seems your tiny movement was the stupid thing to finally wake him up.

you almost wanted to call him aurora, not because he was sleeping as much so much but because he was as beautiful as her.

the lazy smile when he saw your face set butterflies in your tummy, the feeling still pulling at your heart strings despite how long you have being dating him.

"have you been waiting long, my love?" he asked despite the answer basically written on your face in bold.

"i've waited like,,, an eternity. now let's get up please." you pulled him up despite his protests to lay down a bit and cuddle. (you almost wanted to but held back hehe)

with a loving gaze and a lazy grin, kazuha managed to get you to sit infront of him on the couch as you scratched your head a bit before shifting into a position that's easy for him to brush your hair.

he loves your hair, short or long.

he gently brushed the knots, chuckling a bit at your ouch!-s.

moments like these make you appreciate how simple and calm he is.

trying to heal someone who doesn't want to be healed is gonna end with you being hurt, they said.

but they didn't know anything.

they didn't know how he watched over you, his healer.

you slept rather late so it was obvious you were gonna wake up late too. but that was fine with xiao, who couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried.

he didn't want to burden you and interrupt you from your dreams so he sat next to you, lap covered with the blanket.

when you would talk his ears off or just cling onto him, he didn't have time to think about anything other than you. but with the room being completely silent and your soft breathes barely reaching his ears, he could only think about the future.

his future.

would you guys still be together in a few years, or would you finally realize how unworthy he is?

would you guys marry? or maybe even—

"g'morning..." your quiet voice startled him a bit. he turned to look at you and saw your left eye open while the other was closed, still trying to get used to the bright light from above you two.

"a-ah, i'll turn it off-" when he was about to pul off the sheets you quickly gripped his forearm, slightly squeezing to feel his soft skin.

"sleep." you only let out before pulling the covers over you two, holding his waist tightly as if you guys weren't close enough already...

it made xiao almost a bit jealous at how easily you were able to doze off but letting out a small sigh, he closed his eyes while holding your head to his chest.

what he said about not being able to sleep no matter what... might've been wrong, proven by you ♡

albedo was so used to pulling all-nighters, he could go days without sleeping until his body HAS to shut down.

you had a breakdown last night, sobbing into your arms, fat teardrops falling onto the table like a river. you had to finish this assignment by 6am in the morning, random timing but that's what your professor said.

you hadn't slept the other day so it was already taking a toll on your body but your assignment wasn't even close to finishing. your hands shook as your fingers messily tap tap tap!-ed on the keyboard.

your grades on this class was not so good and your professor gave you chance to get extra points but you still couldn't do it.

filled with frustration, your blurred vision failed to notice your boyfriend walking into the room with concerned eyes.

all you could remember was him rubbing your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead while you weeped into his hoodie. but as your cries turned into soft hiccups, he talked you into laying down.

you knew you shouldn't have but hearing his voice begging you to rest was just enough to soothe you to sleep.

a disappointed sigh left your lips as the horrifying image of a big red F lingered into your mind.

too late now, you could smell a sweet smell coming from the kitchen and a smile unconsciously made its way onto your face.

quickly jumping up, you made your way over to albedo, placing your hands on his hips and squeezing as a 'surprise!'

despite you being behind him, you knew he was smirking.

"you okay?" he turned around to rub your bare arms, his hands that was usually covered in gloves, also bare. his soft palms felt like feather tickling your arm.

you nodded, a soft smile painted over both of your faces. though you thought he looked like a sculpture compared to you

he turned his gaze to the table and raised his eyebrows, an indication to go sit down and so you obeyed.

when you sat down your eyes shifted to your laptop, the memories from yesterday tugging the corner of your lips down.

but the kiss on your eyelid and the plate of breakfast albedo made for you erased the thoughts like a breeze.

"i'll be back soon, okay? eat well and take bath." though his caring self made your eyes turn into hearts, the first part of his sentence also made the frown appear again.

a low hearted laugh escaped hid throat but he rubbed his thumb on your hand before walking to the door and putting on his shoes.

as soon as the sound of the door closing rang in your ears, something in you was telling you to check out your assignment one more time, even if it was 10am now.

you don't know what you expected but your lips parted and your eyes glistened at the screen.

"Assignment sent.

5:59am @______"