#but seriously go read this fic if you haven't yet

[crowleyholmes]

Started reading @feralbutfluffy's amazing fic "Too Wise to Woo Peaceably" and the 1941 flashback chapter got to me... so. I had to draw these two idiots lying on the floor stupid drunk talking about ballpoint pens.

[jklovesfandoms]

"Peter Spankoffski has trichotillomania" I say into the mic.

The crowd starts booing. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice cuts through the crowd.

"He's right" they say. I look in the audience, and there he is, in the 6th row. Joey Richter himself.

[elialys]

if you're one of my Tess & Ellie AU readers, you should thank @oliviassunrise, because literally every time I read another one of her beautiful chapters from her Joel x Tess AU, it makes me miss writing my own fic so much because I love my fucked up found family and all their messy emotions 😭

[faydingrain]

I'm writing a fic about Fumus being possessive/mildly yandere? and it's an absolute mess

[devondespresso]

Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

_

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

_

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

[vaaaaaiolet]

You take it upon yourself to spice up your husband's work lunches at Rebecca's encouragement, and Leon nearly dies in the process. Is Hello Kitty really a killer? Leon, for one, is convinced she's up to no good.

f / m, you're married to older leon!, crack treated seriously, fluff, slice of life, the dso is just one big happy family because i said so, bento boxes and happy ending but maybe not for chris (i still love my peanut buster king)

word count: 1.4k // read on ao3

a/n: inspired by rrcherrypie's hello kitty bento box video that i watched religiously as a kid. this entire fic is a shitpost tbh LMAO this is my government mandated apology for a story where no one goes anywhere <3 go check it out if you haven't yet!

Ever since his cop days, Leon’s learned that you can’t trust anyone whose hands aren’t in plain sight and well, Hello Kitty’s emblazoned face staring up at him from the kitchen counter doesn’t exactly have hands. Or arms.

Leon scrunches his nose at her and opts to wrap his own arms around your waist instead.

“Doll.”

“Hm?” 

Leon lines the side of your neck with kisses as carrot coins and cucumber slices fall serenely away at your knife. 

“Whatcha doin’?” he prods.

You neatly sweep the vegetables into the Hello Kitty bento box and give your attention-hungry husband a kiss to tide him over, but it’s not quite enough to satiate. Octopus sausages stare back at him with pointy sesame seed eyes, and Leon grows more unsettled by the minute.

He’s done playing nice; gives your hip a pinch. “Come on, you’re killing me here. What’s with all the arts and crafts?”

“Now, before you say anything,” your voice is soft and placating and giving him all the more reason to worry, "‘Becca came by to visit me the other day and said she really liked what I made you for lunch last week.”

“So this is for her?” Leon breathes a sigh of relief. He was starting to thin-

“No, this is for you, silly!”

And you laugh like it’s funny.

“I thought I should start putting in some more effort into your food. You’re away for work so often, and I don’t get to make you nice things as much as I want to.”

Leon chokes a little and looks back down at Hello Kitty’s gleaming metal face. “This is…what I’m taking to work?”

Your face falls. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, doll, it looks delicious but…you really didn’t have to go all out. Your sandwiches are just fine. I don’t wanna give you the trouble, y’know?” 

“No trouble at all, baby,” you practically sing the words as you twirl to add your knife to a precarious tower of dishes in the sink, “you just say the word, and I can make you bento boxes every week.”

Every week?

You cup a soapy palm to Leon’s cheek as his gaze descends into a thousand-yard stare to rival Hello Kitty’s. “I think your friends might even be excited about your lunch now!”

Oh, absolutely. Chris was going to have a field day.

Chris completely loses his shit as predicted.

“Oh, Leon, it’s adorable,” Rebecca chimes in hopefully as Chris coughs into his fist, “you should have seen how excited she was when I gave her the box!”

The frustrated ceramic click of Leon’s teeth is somehow audible over Chris’ uncivilized howling. “So this was your idea?”

She gives him a sheepish chuckle.

“Rebecca, I thought we were friends,” he pleads as he picks up his metal fork. The team hovers over Leon’s shoulders like vultures to eye what his wife’s made him for lunch. 

To your credit, it’s a mealtime Michelangelo. There are Sanrio-themed rice balls of both the brown and white variety, vegetables neatly cut and festooned with animal picks, a beautifully folded omelet, and the ever omniscient octopus sausages. Hello Kitty’s metal face guards the entire hoard like a gargoyle. It’s enough to make Leon lose his lunch, but he’d have to have some first to cough it up.

He gives the octopus a tentative poke.

“Seriously, Leon, just man up and eat the damn thing.” Jill takes no nonsense as usual, plucking a carrot from the bed of lettuce and tossing it into her mouth. “Chris is just salty he’s having his fifth protein shake lunch of the week.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

It’s never quiet with those two around, but Rebecca gives him an encouraging smile as he gives the octopus a chew. It’s not bad, really. It’s just something about eating something with ey-

Rapid alarm beeps in the main compound snap the team’s attention away from the bento box affair and towards the map in the middle. Rebecca shoots off in her rolling chair to pull up what’s alerting the alarm system, and Hunnigan’s business voice projects into Leon’s earpiece.

“I hope you’ve had a satisfying lunch.” 

He wonders if Hunnigan ever eats as he shoves his bento box into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. 

She, however, is unconcerned. “You’re going to need the energy for the incident we’ve just gotten wind of downtown.”

The situation was supposed to be minor. There were rumors of King Tut’s Curse swirling amongst the museum staff after a rare shipment of Egyptian artifacts, but nobody had taken anything seriously until a janitor walked into the storage room and came back out more dead than alive. Things escalated after the infected janitor wandered into the World War II exhibit and bit the cleaning team there. The staff was horrified, the media was unhelpfully broadcasting the entire thing on live TV, and the DSO had blessedly quieted the whole thing down on that end before directing the case to Leon’s team as a classic T-virus takedown operation.

Easy as pie. Except the undead cleaning crew had gotten ahold of loaded World War II guns, you know, for historical accuracy. 

It’s a cinch for the most part to evacuate the visitors from the museum. Leon ushers terrified middle schoolers out of the exhibits as fast as he can while the rest of his team rounds up the infected, and it’s a routine sweep. He just feels bad for the kiddos.

“But what about the gift sho- AHH!! ” Leon whirls around to see an Infected point a knife bayonet into a terrified sixth-grader’s face. The zombie’s finger pulls back the trigger almost cinematically, and Leon’s not stupid. He’s going to be too late.

The gun fires.

It fires a round directly into his left shoulder as he shoves the kid to safety.

Leon collapses on the ground after shooting the zombie’s head to bits, but his shoulder aches something fierce. Oh God, not again, this time he hasn’t even got Ada to patch him up. He gingerly presses two fingers to the wound and pulls them away to inspect the warm spill of blood, but surprisingly, his fingers come away clean. 

Jill comes running up as he stumbles to his feet. The last of the Infected have been wiped out, she explains frantically, pulling out a roll of gauze, and everything’s secure, but suddenly she stops to peer at his spotless bullet wound.

So it’s not just him. There was definitely a shot, and his shoulder definitely hurts like a bitch. 

But where was the bullet?

You’re chewing your nails down to the quick when Leon walks into the living room later that evening. The quiet shuffle of his shoes falling onto the stand prompts you to smother in him a warm, bakery-scented hug and take him by surprise, but he squeezes you back as much as his shoulder allows.

You sniffle into his leather-clad chest. “I’m so sorry, baby, I just- I saw the news before they stopped the broadcast and I can’t believe they sent you to deal with the riot!”

So that’s what Hunnigan fed the press this time. Practical as always.

“I can’t believe I made you go to work with that stupid lunch,” you carry on, gasping as you spot the bandage peeking through his jacket, “you didn’t like it and you could have died, I’m never-”

“I’m alright, no biggie.” Leon kisses the top of your head, taking you by the arms and sitting you down next to him on the couch. You furiously wipe a tear off your face.

“It’s not alright, I’m never making you anything you don’t like ever again. That bento box is bad juju. I’m telling Rebecca never to buy anything from that shop from now on.”

Okay, so you finally admit the box is creepy. Leon bites back a laugh. 

“Woah, doll, not so fast. You think it’s the box’s fault I got hurt?”

“What else would it be? Today’s the first time you take it to work, and then you get shot on a regular patrol.” You frown as he pulls the Hello Kitty bento out from inside his jacket. “You brought that thing home?”

He chuckles. “Take a look at it. I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”

You squint at the tin and realize with a startle that a bullet round is lodged smack dab in the middle of Hello Kitty’s yellow nose. Like a goddamn bullseye.

The lunchbox had taken the brunt of the hit, leaving Leon unscathed.

“Incredible.” you breathe out. 

And he’s inclined to agree.

“So, doll,” Leon grins, “got any leftovers for tomorrow? Chris is a really big fan of the octopus things.”

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[imloyaltoscoups]

it's fiction | jeon wonwoo

Wonwoo leans on the door frame, his arms crossed, looking at you focused on your laptop. Your fingers keep typing nonstop, the clatter of keys the only sound in the room.

"You've been engrossed with your laptop for days," he says, breaking the silence.

You stop typing and close your laptop immediately, turning your head to look at him. "It's just some research stuff," you reply, trying to sound casual. But the truth is, he has no idea you're writing a fanfic about him—not just any fic, but a R18+ one.

You stand up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. "Soo how's the progress on the album with Hans?" you ask, hoping to divert his attention.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his arms encircling you in return. "It's going well," he says softly. "Just preparing for the MV maybe this coming week or so... But I'm more curious about what you've been working on."

You feel your cheeks heat up, your heart racing as you hold him tighter, "I'm just searching for a new game that's all," you reply, trying to sound convincing.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Your chrome isn't even open."

You look up at him, caught off guard. He points to his glasses. "My vision is clear," he says, smiling.

You let out a nervous laugh, your mind racing to come up with another excuse. But the way he’s looking at you, with that teasing glint in his eyes, makes it hard to think straight. So instead, you tighten your grip around his waist, hiding your face in his chest.

"Okay four eyes, you caught me," you mumble into his shirt. "But it's really nothing."

He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. "Alright, I'll let it slide for now. But next time, maybe you can show me what you've been working on?"

Your heart skips a beat, and you can only hope he never finds out the real reason behind your late-night typing sessions.

He then gently removes your arms from around his waist and he directly head straight to your workstation. Panic sets in as you rush to stop him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind.

"Yaaaa, wait!" you plead, trying to hold him back. "You said you will let it slideee."

He laughs, a deep, genuine sound, and continues to move forward, dragging you along with him. "What are you hiding, hmm?" he teases, enjoying your struggle.

"Seriously, it's nothing!" you insist, your grip tightens.

He pauses, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, still smiling. "You know, you're making me even more curious."

You groan, knowing he won’t give up easily. "It's just… embarrassing, okay?"

He turns around fully, facing you, his expression softening a bit. "I won't judge, you know that," he says gently.

You hesitate, then sigh, loosening your hold on him. "Fine. Again don't judge me and don't even laugh." as you point your finger on him.

He grins, reaching out to lift your chin. "I promise."

With a reluctant nod, you step aside, watching nervously as he approaches the table.

Wonwoo sits on your chair and opens the laptop, starting to read. You panic and cover his eyes as he begins to speak, "Really, babe?"

"Stop, stop," you nervously plead.

He removes your hands from his glasses and looks up at you. "I thought you didn't like being rough, but here? You even describe my dick well, props to that," he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. He grabs your waist and settles you on his lap, and you nudge your face into his neck, mumbling, "It's just fiction."

He chuckles, "But the details… wait, am I a mafia boss here?"

You blush even more deeply. "And how do you know this kind of position? We haven't even tried this one yet," he continues.

"Stop reading." You plead, but he ignores you and keeps reading.

"Have you been watching porn while I'm away?" he asks.

"It's just for reference, Won," you reply weakly. "You know I have more experience than you, right?" he counters.

"Well, then it wouldn't be fiction, it would be like your diary or something," you retort, looking at him. "And my readers like this kind of stuff."

He laughs and scrolls down, continuing to read. "And you even make me a cold, possessive jerk? Really, babe?"

You bury your face in his shoulder, mortified yet unable to suppress a giggle at his reaction.

"Well, this is already a fanfic since you made me a mafia boss," Wonwoo remarks, pausing in his reading. "You make Mingyu my rival... wait, will he... uh, fuck around with the female lead too?"

He's now fully invested, and you try to cover the screen, but he removes your hand, his expression turning serious. "Behave," he instructs firmly.

"Why is the female named as Y/N?" he asks, his tone softer now as he realizes you're writing a reader-insert fanfic.

You hesitate to answer, but he catches on, teasing you, "So you're imagining yourself being fucked by a mafia boss, huh?"

"It's not like that," you deny it quickly,

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know, you're missing some details in this sex part," he points out, gesturing to the screen.

"What's wrong with that?" you ask, feeling defensive.

"Since you haven't tried this position, you need to experience it firsthand to be able to describe it accurately," he explains matter-of-factly.

He then stops reading, setting your laptop aside. You think it's over, so you stand up. He does too, but to your surprise, he grabs your hand and drags you to a nearby couch in the room.

As Wonwoo positions you on the couch, he bends you at the waist, your upper body resting on the cushions while the arm of the couch supports your hips. Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he swiftly removes your shorts along with your underwear, making you gasp in surprise and arousal.

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You know, I read something in your story about fingering and sucking first," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Before... before fucking her hard."

You shiver at his words, feeling a rush of heat pooling between your legs. "Y-yes," you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without further preamble, he descends upon you, his lips trailing hot kisses along the curve of your neck. But his touch is not gentle; it's rough, demanding, leaving marks of his passion in its wake. He bites down on your skin, his teeth grazing against your flesh, leaving you gasping for more.

As his lips find their way to your shoulder, With a wicked grin, he murmurs against your skin, "Let's see if I got your story right." he grips your thighs tightly, parting them with a force that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. His touch is possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he explores every inch of your body with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

Your breath catches in your throat as his words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You nod, unable to form coherent words, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, without warning, he lowers his head between your thighs, his mouth claiming you with a primal urgency. He doesn't hold back: his tongue is rough and insistent, lapping at your core with a fierce intensity that threatens to drive you over the edge.

But it's not just his tongue that drives you wild; it's his teeth, sinking into your flesh with a delicious sting that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. He bites and sucks with abandon, his mouth a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

You then gasp as Wonwoo inserts his fingers roughly, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His roughness only intensifies as he continues to suck and lick you, driving you to the edge with each relentless stroke.

When you finally reach your climax, the pleasure is so intense that you can't help but squirt, your juices spilling over his face in a hot, sticky mess. He doesn't flinch; instead, he stands up, slapping your ass roughly as you continue to leak your essence, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

With a primal growl, he positions himself between your legs, straddling you as he forcefully slaps his cock into you like an animal. In this position, there's no room for romance—no eye contact, no kissing, no caressing. It's pure, raw, animalistic fucking, and you revel in it.

As he takes you from behind, you can feel his gaze burning into you, consuming you with lust as he uses you for his pleasure. You lowkey love it—the feeling of being dominated, of being nothing more than an object for his satisfaction. It awakens something primal within you, igniting your submissive side like never before.

As Wonwoo continues to pound into you with primal intensity, his breath ragged and his movements rough, he begins to utter possessive lines, echoing the ones you wrote in your fanfic.

"You like it when I degrade you, don't you?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You love being used like this, don't you, you filthy little slut?"

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine. You find yourself nodding eagerly, unable to form coherent words as pleasure clouds your mind.

He continues, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "You're mine, Y/N," he declares, his grip tightening on your hips as he drives himself deeper into you. "No one else can have you like this. You belong to me, body and soul. Say it."

You moan in response, unable to resist his command. "I'm yours," you gasp, the words coming out in a breathless whisper.

"That's right," he murmurs, he then delivers a sharp slap to your ass. "And don't you forget it. You're mine to use, to pleasure, to fuck however I want."

Wonwoo's thrusts grow deeper and rougher, each movement driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your bodies collide with a primal rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room.

He hisses in pleasure, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're so tight," he gasps, the words slipping out between clenched teeth. "Even after all this time, you still feel so fucking good."

With a final, powerful thrust, he releases his hot, sticky essence deep inside you, filling you completely with his fluid. The sensation sends you over the edge, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Wonwoo pulls his cock out, releasing the last of his cum onto your back. You breathe heavily, reveling in the fact that this is the first time he's been so rough with you during sex. He then gently picks you up and settles you both onto the couch.

As he plays with your hair, he smirks and asks, "So, who’s the better fuck—the mafia version of me or the real thing?"

You squint your eyes at his absurd question, trying to suppress a laugh. "It's just fiction, Babe, Mere fiction," you reply, shaking your head.

He chuckles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I know, I know," he says, his voice gentle. "I was just curious... At least you got to experience the sex position you wrote about," he added as he resumes on toying with your hair. "And if you need to try more for the sake of realism in your stories, I'd be open to it. No need for extra research when you have me."

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning against him. "Whatever." But he's not done yet, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Are there other stories you've written that I haven't read? Are they rated 18? And do you write about other members too?" he fires off questions.

Before he can ask more, you hush his mouth with a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocates, pulling you closer. You sense there might be another round, but this time, he'll be gentle like he used to be.

....... ≿━━━༺WONWOO༻━━━≾ .......

[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.

[lyrablack1883]

Harry steps closer to the field, his shoes crunching over gravel before he steps onto soft grass.

"These fields," he repeats, slowly reaching out and brushing a hand over the tall canola flowers. Still green and young, they haven't yet reached the brightness of Cornwall's canola fields. Harry stares intensely across the field, his eyes narrowed with focus. As though, if he looks hard enough, he might see the ghost of a young Draco racing between the canola plants.

Harry grins and takes a step forward.

"Where are you going?" Draco asks, sounding slightly startled.

"Away from you," Harry says, and takes off.

It's one thing he and Draco have in common: a lonely childhood. The only time Harry ever got close to playing games like tag was when he found himself running for his life as a jeering Dudley waddled after him, or Aunt Marge's bulldogs snapped at his heels. It's a very different experience to be racing through a field, the night sky clear and crisp above him, listening to the sound of light footsteps behind him. Draco's voice cuts across the field.

"You're insane, Potter! Are you seriously playing games — "

"We're playing games, you mean," he calls over his shoulder. "You're chasing me, after all."

"I am not chasing you! Get back here!"

"Make me!" Harry laughs and picks up speed; behind him, the footsteps quicken. Harry takes a sharp left, feeling the thin stalks of the canola plants feather through his fingers. He zig-zags his way across the field, running faster and faster until all he can hear is the blood thumping in his ears, the effort of breathing in his throat, and then he pauses. He can't hear footsteps behind him anymore.

Harry turns around. The field seems empty, the canola plants swaying gently in the night air. He frowns, his brow creasing, and drops his hands to his side, his fingers slowly uncurling. The silent night gives nothing away; not the slightest footstep nor the faintest draw of breath. Harry takes a step backwards.

Someone grabs him; he shouts out and nearly jumps out of his skin. Behind him, Draco starts laughing, his arms still around Harry.

"You shrieked," Draco manages between fits of laughter, his voice unnervingly close to Harry's ear. Harry reddens.

"I did not! I — I shouted, that's all. You startled me," he adds accusingly.

"You shrieked, admit it. For a moment, I thought I'd grabbed Astoria."

"Oh, very funny! Hey — where are you going?" Harry asks as Draco drops his arms and turns, poised to flee.

"Catch me." And Draco's bolting away, quick as a fox, racing through the field again.

Harry starts running.

——

Illustration based on this specific scene from running on air by @tinyhistory (eleventy7)

This is part 1 of the illustration I drew for an edit

The edit :

[radioapple-heathen]

My Top 10 📻🍎 'Oneshots' Fic Recs

(A continuation of my previous post. You can find info about my fic preferences and my top 10 'Series' fic recs here. And my multi-chap recs here.)

1.) Mine to Avenge by fourshadesofgreen

Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canonverse. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: Murder Husbands. What more can I say? This is peak radioapple. Flirting through murder?? UGH. Delicious. Obsessed. Think about this oneshot 24/7. There is nothing else.

2.) With A Coffee and a Caress by @winterveritas

Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: This was SOOO FREAKING CUTE??? AND SEXY??? SIMULTANEOUSLY??? Also this oneshot got me to jump all aboard the trans!Alastor train. Can't say anything I haven't said already about Winter, but go read, 10/10 quality and believable wonderful progression of their relationship!!

3.) No hiding place down here by @tollingreminiscentbells

Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: I will inhale anything this author writes in re: to radioapple and this is no exception. Fantastic dialogue and characterization, as usual. Lucifer-heals-Alastor oneshot that could honestly be canon with how well the author writes these two.

4.) afternoon delight by deliciously_devient

Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence. Notable Warnings: Uh, idk, menstration fic.

Notes: This author is going to make a full deviant out of me yet. Intersex!Lucifer hits that time of the month and, of course, Alastor is there to assist like the super helpful friend he is XD

5.) Truth Laid Bare by pervertanarchy

Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Post Canon (I think). Notable Warnings: Explicit +. Mind the tags LOL.

Notes: ANGEL TRUTH SERUM AU???? I didn't realize how much I needed this in my life, but bless you, author. Lucifer is a Mess (TM) and a good time was had by all, including Alastor's shadow.

6.) bite the hand by @tarmairons

Rated M. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: I absolutely ADORE the characterizations in this oneshot. The dialogue between them is ON POINT. So witty, so in character, just perfection. And then when it becomes PLAYFUL??? The best!

7.) God Forsaken by Kisama

Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Human!Alastor AU. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: Ah, hello, Alastor meeting Lucifer as a human, my absolute weakness, nice to see you again. A fantastic addition to my library of this trope --- and bottom!Alastor, my other beloved.

8.) helter skelter by nymphaceae

Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: Catch me on my trans!Alastor train still, because this was chef's kiss as well. Very fun, very sexy oneshot, would read 19 more installments of this.

9.) will you weapon your skin (feed the monster within) by FrostbiteFable

Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Post-canon. Notable Warnings: Explicit + LOL.

Notes: WHY DID IT TAKE ME SO LONG TO FIND THIS FIC??? THIS 25K ONESHOT SEX POLLEN RADIOAPPLE MASTERPIECE?? Seriously, strap in, y'all, because this is a ride, omg. I don't even know how to summarize it, JUST READ IT. It's so, so, so good.

10.) Lavender and Smoke by pervertanarchy

Rated T. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Post Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: AHA! A T-rated oneshot rec, I am not a complete heathen. Jokes aside, this was SO SWEET??? I love domestic radioapple so much. It really scratches an itch in my brain. And the author has such beautiful crisp prose, it makes for such an easy and enjoyable read.

[venomous-qwille]

Ghost in the Machine

This is the master post for Ghost in the Machine links, character refs and FAQs.

I will try my best to keep this post as up to date as possible.

What is Ghost in The Machine?

GITM is a DCA AU and a fic set in the retrofuture (2055ish) long after Fazco has shut down. An eccentric collector has been acquiring versions of the Daycare Attendant animatronic from closed locations around the world. The story involves a reader character who has been brought into repair the original post-Ruin DCA from the games, and hijinks ensue. There are also ghosts.

Where can I read the fic?

GITM is currently being posted on Ao3, and is updated every three weeks on Saturdays. The fic is being beta'd by the tremendously talented @bubbiethesaur. You can read GITM here!

There is also a podfic, which you can find here:

Updates to the podfic will be sporadic, so please be patient &lt;3

Where can I see the art?

On this blog I use the #gitm au and #ghost in the machine au tags for GITM related content. If you are looking for art of a specific character, they also have their own tags: #misuta moon #nova #soleil #clip.exe #sunspot mk1 #fool eclipse #ruin eclipse #sombra #sunflower #mr sandman

FAQ~

Why haven't you answered my GITM ask?

One of three reasons: 1) your ask was too spoilery* 2) I'm waiting to answer it with art 3) ADHD

*spoilery includes but is not limited to: any questions about dual-AI or XYZ character's sun/moon variant; questions about character backstories and lore; questions about characters that have not featured in the fic yet (e.g Nova, Sanii, Harvest, Sunflower, Sandman etc); asks speculating about potential future scenarios (don't get me wrong, I love these asks, but I can't answer them!)

Where are all the Moons?

Read and find out. Seriously. There are at least 5 Moons who are core to the plot but I'm not going to talk about them, no matter how nicely you ask!

Does XYZ character have a Sun/Moon counterpart?

Some of them do, some of them don't. The dual-AI stuff is majorly plot related. If I'm not talking about someone's Sun/Moon counterpart, rest assured you will find out eventually. I won't be spoiling any of it on tumblr though :)

Can I create fanart of GITM?

Yes yes yes please do and please tag me when you post it so I can see it/reblog! If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create fanfic of GITM?

Super flattered about this. I have a longform answer to this question which you can read here. But tl;dr yes you can, please tag/credit me, do not spoil/try to write the lore, and please do not write GITM au (e.g mafia, mer, medieval). I have my own plans for this stuff and I would prefer to release the designs/stories in my own time. If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create NSFW GITM content?

Until recently I had blanket perms that allowed NSFW GITM content. I'm updating this to let you guys know I'm no longer comfortable with people making this content. Back when the community was small, I felt differently, but as time has passed a lot has changed and I've found myself becoming increasingly anxious about it. If this boundary changes again in the future, I will update this FAQ.

Do you have character refs I can use?

There is a collection of art 'refs' for each character on the Misutamojis discord. Latest link here.

There are no proper call-out sheets/refs currently, but I have a huge body of art for the characters on this blog which should give you more than enough info for most of them. I will get around to creating proper refs eventually, in which case I will link them here.

Where can I find the playlist?

I update the spotify playlist fairly regularly, if you have any music recs you can send them over in an ask! You can listen to the playlist here!

I've heard there are secret GITM drabbles, where can I find them?

I used to post frequent drabbles from future chapters in the DCA Palooza discord, I have recently deleted the majority of them as people were going back and binging them which hadn't been the intended reading experience. Anywho, this question probably refers more to the spicy drabbles (which people have very kindly made a lot of delicious art for). These are still around! You just need to access the spicy channel and do some digging.

Is there a GITM discord?

Nope! There is a server for GITM emotes and a busy thread in the DCA Palooza, but currently I don't have any plans to make a GITM-centric discord community. If that does happen in the future it's likely I will simply convert the emotes server (Misutamojis).

It finally happened, I converted Misutamojis. You can join the GITM discord here.

Can I smooch the robots?

Yes.

All of them?

All of them.

[daisystwistedgarden]

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔

a/n: let the record show this is not the fic i was supposed to be writing rn!! i've been working on a post about the character's prev hs experiences for the college au. but then @etheries1015 posted this fic about rubbing lilia's back and i read it and urgh. i couldn't stop myself. i also saw something going around about lilia using magic to cover up his scarring from the war and fuck that's so good. so i included it. here is my humble offering of a fic toying with these idea-- credit to the linked author and fic for premise!

content + warnings: lilia x gn!reader, suggestive, established relationship, pet names, reader lives in ramshackle, discussion of lilia's scarring + trust issues/evasiveness, reader debates if there's insecurity involved, implied further smut

word count: 1.4k

"you haven't been wearing your back brace recently, have you?"

"hmm... no, i don't suppose i have been."

"of course not. i saw you slouching at your computer earlier, too. no wonder you're so bent out of shape."

lilia chuckles from underneath you. you're almost certain there's a cheesy grin twisting his lips. knowing him, he's delighted by his own mischief, regardless of the effect it has on his body-- and, more obviously, he's delighted by the fact that you love him enough to do him this favor.

"you'll take care of me though, right?" he twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you. he's grinning.

"maybe i should just let you suffer. maybe then you'll learn to take your health more seriously."

"you're wicked, darling."

"no, but i should be. i'm too soft on you."

"you're the light of my golden years."

"yeah, yeah. quit squirming. i'm trying to get this knot between your shoulder blades."

somewhere along the way, you noticed that lilia has some lingering issues with his back. at first, it was subtle shifts in position on your earliest dates to hide the fact that sitting in one spot too long makes him sore. then it was the over-exaggerated stretching before every battle, always played for laughs but never skipped for fear of aggravating his injuries in public. lilia never outright told you he has issues with his back. you never pressed him on why-- it seems some parts of his past he'd rather leave behind-- but as your relationship developed, he became more comfortable lowering his guard and letting you into these parts of his life.

which is how you've ended up here.

ramshackle dorm's shotty yellow lighting comes off as warm and intimate as the sun begins to set through the large window nearby. lilia is sprawled out, face-down in your comforter. you sit carefully on his hips. his jacket and vest have long been discarded carelessly on your floor, leaving him in the button down he wore to classes. even that's mostly undone at this point. the ribbon usually tied around his neck is now bunched in his fist. you had, at one point, been discussing your day, but now the silence was only occasionally broken by the playful spats between you as you tried to urge your beloved fae to take better care of himself.

"that feels good," he murmurs as the heel of your palm pushes hard into the tough knot near the base of his neck. a pleased little groan just barely escapes his lips. "a little weak, but nice."

"sorry, it's just-- i don't want to crumple up your nice school shirt."

"do your worst," he replies. "unless you'd like me to take it off?"

"doesn't surprise me that you're so eager to strip while you're in my bed." now you're grinning.

his signature laugh is low and breathy. lilia is not facing you, yet you're certain his eyes have narrowed as he assesses the challenge laid before him. but you don't want to change the mood so soon-- after all, his back is still sore from the long day he had. you take the initiative to untuck his collared shirt from his slacks and slip your hands under the fabric.

there. under the pads of your fingertips, you can feel them-- the scars.

jagged. rough, still, even after what you assume are years of healing. the contrast between soft skin and scar tissue makes your touch falter.

it's important to note that you've never actually seen the scars on lilia's body. every time he's been shirtless around you-- from simple moments while changing to more intimate encounters-- his skin appears entirely smooth and unblemished. but the scars are there. no doubt. you can feel them, so certainly that you worried along the way that your vision was going bad for you to missing something so crucial. yet they never appeared no matter how close you got.

the conclusion you came to was that lilia was using magic to hide these scars from you, plain and simple. his motivation? unclear. maybe he was just more comfortable that way. but surely that took up unnecessary magic, right? you couldn't help but worry that maybe he hid them for fear of not being found attractive because of them. a ridiculous notion-- wasn't it clear how truly head-over-heels you were from day one?-- but you hadn't found a way to bring up these thoughts without seeming accusatory. maybe this was a molehill your own worries had made a mountain.

"something wrong, dear?"

his voice is even, but you can see right through the question. the lingering tension over these hidden scars hung thick in the air.

"... look at how bent out of shape you are, old man. i'm going to have to hide your controller if you don't stop slouching."

the joke successfully breaks the ice. any tension fades when lilia lets out an amused little scoff.

"i promise to wear my brace tomorrow, alright?" he acquiesces, shifting underneath you with the sort of old man grunt you've grown to find incredibly endearing.

"good enough."

you push up the rest of his shirt to have better access to his bare back. the conversation meanders to the events of the day, to the rest of your week, until the conversation devolves into jokes and teasing back and forth.

the air thickens, and a different kind of tension surfaces. silence fills the room, punctuated by the sound of your respective breathing and the occasional grunt or pleased groan from the man below you.

it's nice. his body is warm underneath yours, his skin soothing beneath your palms as you work his tense joints into languid putty in your hands. it's not often that lilia is so quiet and still for you. your lover is a vicious tease. it's a little surprising he wasn't tried to flip this situation on you yet. all this shifting and touching has left a pool of desire flickering to life in the pit of your stomach.

"my love?" you begin softly. the fae beneath you lets out a small hum of acknowledgement. "are you feeling a bit better?"

"absolutely," he murmurs, turning his head a bit so you can see his grin. he looks especially pleased as one cheek presses into the blankets, his eyes closed tight under your heavy gaze. "though i wouldn't protest if you continued..."

a moment passes where neither of you speak. your hands slide up the expanse of his bare back, mapping out the hidden texture, until they come to rest on near his shoulders where his shirt is bunched up. then they slide off of him entirely to brace yourself on the bed next to his sides. you lower yourself carefully until your chest grazes his back. his eyelids flutter, but they do not open. you can see his smile grow a bit wider in the meantime.

your lips press softly to the curve of his jawline. he lets out a pleased sigh. one ruby eye flickers open to get a look at you now that you've closed in on him.

"is this part of the massage?" he croons, low and breathy and all-too-pleased at where this might be heading.

"i don't know," you muse. "i thought about helping you relax in other ways... but i think your back's a little too weak for such strenuous activity."

a challenge. a wicked glint illuminates his eye, and his body vibrates under you as his signature laugh rings through your room. khee hee...

"my dear, i assure you-- nothing would stop me from indulging in such pleasures. a sore back means nothing in comparison."

he begins to shift underneath you in an attempt to roll over, but your hand pushing one of his shoulders back down into the mattress renders him still. he lifts his head, question poised on his tongue, but your lips meet his in a quick kiss before he can ask why you've stopped him.

"maybe it would be best if you laid back and let me take care of you?" you murmur, soft and suggestive. the hand that had his shoulder pinned wanders up to push the hair off the back of his neck, where your lips press another warm kiss against his skin.

lilia thinks leaving the house without his back brace was the best decision he's made all day.

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 ❀

[castle-behind-the-rocks]

@mrghostrat Congratulations on finishing Big Name Feelings !!

This is for Chapter 10 in Response to this post ;) It's a… 1k or something kiss go read it!

He settled his hands comfortably against Crowley’s jaw, holding and pulling and tilting him just so. As if they’d been waiting to return there all along, Crowley’s hands snatched back into their previous positions, with fingers dug into his shoulder and the other grasping Aziraphale’s chest. When he fumbled against the smooth cotton of his shirt, hesitant to rumple his clothes again, he hastened to drop it instead, scooping around the side of Aziraphale’s hip to anchor his body ever closer. When the snogging dial was ramping back up to 10, Aziraphale tilted their heads further aside, and revelled in the satisfied hum that fell out of him. Then Aziraphale opened his eyes, piercing his gaze straight for the bar.

If you haven't read this fic (Human AU with BNF!Crowley writer and Artist!Aziraphale fake Dating. There is a Con!) yet, now is the perfect time because completed but seriously a perfect, perfect story that toys marvelously with all the possibilities of digital publishing. It is an immersive joy!

Somebody on the BeeHive (I forget, probably Meg though) pointed out that we get to share in the experience as their life is kinda fanficy and get very gently extracted once that part ends and the last chapter uff. So good. You've probably seen the art for it. Swoon I say, Swoon!

[yuyusboyfriend]

WATER˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

500 follower special!

pairing: bestfriend's brother!wooyoung x ftm reader [gn reader coming soon!]

wordcount: 6,7k

content: Your best friend's twin has been the bane of your existence for the last 10 years. That was, until, he decided to visit your dreams.

warnings: nsfw, drinking, weed - both joints and a bong, drinking games, cunnilingus, pool sex, sex without a condom (dont!) afab ftm reader, use of words like cunt, clit etc. lmk if I'm missing anything!

soundtrack: water + truth or dare - tyla, Water - Ten

a/n: Thank you so much for 500 followers😭😭 I hope this fic makes up for all of my breaks between fics I made this as long as I could bc I really wanted to do smth special <333 also shoutout to @zh0nggucc1 for being my bsf 🙏❤️ one more note, this is proofread but I always manage to make a 1000 mistakes so I apologise for any!! Happy reading!

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"Finally you're here! Took you long enough" your best friend shouts over the music, holding out a shot glass filled with a clear liquid, "Gotta do a shot before I let you in, Jongho's orders" she smirks as she salutes.

"Really? At-," you quickly glance at your phone," 5 pm? I thought drinking would start later?" you look over the girl's shoulder to see Jongho and Mingi already holding clear cups with some sort of concoction in them.

"Look I'm not arguing with Jongho, he'll throw me in the pool and I haven't changed into my swimsuit yet, so! Take the damn shot will you, pretty please?" she looked at you with big round eyes as if that would persuade your decision.

"I'll do it just stop looking at me like that, it's kind of scary…" you teased, grabbing the shot and throwing it back, hissing slightly at the burn.

"Atta boy! Now go say hi while I go get changed." she ran off before you could argue. As you stepped inside you were greeted by your two friends that you had just seen, Mingi throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you close to him and offering you his cup. You took a sip out of curiosity about what they had been drinking, not surprised when it tasted of all the soju flavours mixed with a dash of some juice they'd found in the back of the cupboard.

"Mmm! That is awful! Best one yet Mingi I mean seriously they should get you making poison," you and Jongho laughed as Mingi shoved your shoulder and pouted.

You felt eyes on you from somewhere as you looked around the room, your vision landing on the one person you'd hoped you wouldn't have to see until at least 10 shots in. Wooyoung.

Wooyoung was the biggest pain in your ass, and what made it even worse was that he was your best friend's brother. You had been best friends with Vee since the rotten age of 12 years old. Since your first day at your new school, you had practically been attached at the hip, never being away from each other for more than a couple of days — the problem there was that her twin brother Wooyoung was also attached to your hip, and somehow knew how to get on your every last nerve. He never did anything inherently bad to you but you just found him irritating nonetheless, even as the years passed, the smirk on his face every time he said or did something that knew would rile you up irked you.

"Your little boyfriend is watching you again~" Mingi sang into your ear, obviously already tipsy because there was no way in hell you'd ever be with Wooyoung. Was he attractive? Objectively, you guessed so. Had he given you butterflies once or twice when he held your hips to pass you as you helped his mom with the dishes? Maybe? But that was just a natural reaction, it didn't mean anything. Did the clothes that he gave you after you came out smell like him and make you feel funny? … He uses a nice cologne, that's all— The point is he wouldn't date you with the way he acted and you wouldn't either. So it was fine. Totally. Fine.

You elbowed Mingi in the side causing him to double over dramatically and wail, making Jongho laugh even more. You laughed along but couldn't shake the feeling that Wooyoung was still staring at you, so you excused yourself from the boys to go see Hongjoong in the kitchen.

"Vee not with you?" He asked as he spotted you rounding the island to greet him.

"She's upstairs getting changed, Praying she won't be much longer, need her to swat Wooyoung away." Hongjoong laughed as he shook his head at your misery.

"Surely he's not that bad y/n, he's cool when he's with us, a yapper at most," you stared at him with disbelief.

"All of you. Traitors!" You sighed as Hongjoong began to laugh more.

"Who's a traitor?" Your muscles stiffened as you felt a familiar pair of hands on your sides, causing you to roll your eyes and ignore the dip in your stomach. One thing Wooyoung never seemed to understand was personal space, 'what's yours is mine' as he would say.

"We all think you're just the best Wooyoung but y/n doesn't agree," Hongjoong exclaims to the boy behind you. You shake your head at Hongjoong's words, they might be true but it was still rough he put you on the spot. Wooyoung's thumb massaged the flesh at your side as he placed his head on your shoulder.

"Impossible, y/n loves me, don't you?" He smirked as you looked down at him. That fucking smirk.

"yeah, about as much as the rock in my shoe right now," you huffed as you shrugged him off. "I'm getting in the pool, I'll see you lot there, yeah?" you announced, walking through the back door before hearing Vee's voice behind you.

"Wait for me!" She exclaimed slipping by her brother and joining your side, a cute and flowy bathing suit adorning her body as Hongjoong watched her flaunt past. As you got to the pool Vee turned to you, "What was happening with you and Woo back there?" you shook your head, already sick of hearing his name in such as short amount of time.

"Nothing was happening! He's just weird and clingy!" Vee looked at you with confusion, being able to read your thoughts and know them better than you do at this point.

"Then why are you being so defensive? He doesn't usually piss you off this bad, what happened?" She said in a soft tone, the tone that made you feel safe despite feeling so irritated. You knew the answer to her question, but your words fell short.

Last night you had a dream. About Wooyoung. Everything seemed normal until he sat down next to you on your best friend's bed and laid his hand against your thigh, his thumb circling the skin just as his hands would always do when they came into contact with you.

"You want me, don't you?" His big brown eyes stared into your own as he carried on massaging your flesh, tingles zipping up and down your spine as you sat there in utter shock. The close proximity forced you to take in all his features. His little moles under his eye and on his lip. His gorgeous jawline sculpted by god himself. The way his fresh out-of-the-shower hair was draped over his forehead and the way the water droplets rolled over his tanned skin. God, he really was pretty, wasn't he? Your eyes darted back and forth between his features before finally landing back on his lips. You felt yourself leaning forward, losing control of your muscles as you did.

"Yeah." Wooyoung's face moved towards yours and joined your lips together so gently you barely felt it as his free hand pressed to your neck to bring you closer, the warmth of his hands and lips sending you into overdrive-

And that's when you jolted up out of your sleep in a cold sweat.

"Hello? Earth to y/n?" Vee waved a hand in front of your face to try to gain your attention, "What you thinking about?

"I… I had a dream and it's freaking me out okay? No more questions." you mumbled out of embarrassment.

"About my brother!? That's definitely new…don't tell me if you had sex because that's gross but I'm gonna need details!" she looks at you with a look of curiosity and horror.

"Will you lower your voice? Good god, I'm about five seconds from drowning myself in your pool."

She sighs, "Fine, but just use protection, you'd be a great dad but I don't want to be an aunt yet, I'm already busy enough with Kyungmin." you mirror her look of horror from a minute ago.

"I'm not gonna have sex with him Jesus!" she laughs at your panicked expression before sitting down to dip her feet in the pool.

"You getting in or what? We've been standing around for long enough" she said before throwing herself into the pool, splashing you on the way in. You smile and set your stuff down on a chair before taking your shirt off and following suit.

You and Vee chilled in the pool as more guests arrived and began to fill the water around you with inflatables and games, music filling the air as the sky changed to purple and red hues, the fairy lights hung on the fence twinkling this the reflection of the water. After a while, you could feel your skin getting ready to shrivel in the water so you decided to get out and dry off and get a drink. Compared to earlier the kitchen was now filled with people, the majority you knew but there were still quite a few new faces, maybe Wooyoungs friends? you didn't really care to converse with people who associated with him, so you went straight to the drinks table.

Only to feel a stranger's hands around you, pulling you towards him, "Hey handsome, what are you drinking? I'll get it for you hm?" Great, some drunk asshole has already started making rounds but before you could even reply with a snide comment, Wooyoung had ripped the guy away from you and had a hand clutched onto the guy's shirt.

"Don't fucking touch him you asshole, if you're gonna act like this Minjun ill kick you out right fucking now." Woo hissed at.. minjun? so he must know him then. Minjun put his hands up in defeat and apologised to Wooyoung before walking to the living room. Wooyoung turned back to you looking you up and down with worry. He knew you weren't comfortable with that much physicality, especially with strangers, but it was still weird to see him so outwardly caring about the state you were in. Maybe he was always like this, but you opted to ignore him most of the time so you wouldn't know.

"Y/n you okay, he didn't hurt you right? do you want him out he can leave, I'm sorry I didn't think he'd be weird-" You cut off his rambling, just wanting to leave and put on a shirt to not feel so exposed for the time being.

"Woo, it's fine I'll survive." You were looking around until that moment, finally connecting with his eyes. You noticed that he had a rather surprised reaction, not understanding why until you replayed what you just said in your head.

You never called him Woo, that was only reserved for friends. You never considered yourself to be anything close to a friend to him so you refused to call him it, despite him telling you to the first time you met him. You didn't really want to discuss this with him any more than you already had, so you slid past him to go and grab your shirt.

"Seriously, what the fuck is happening with you two?" Vee laughed at her brother, "He's spoken to you more tonight than he has in the last 10 years and It's kind of freaking me out honestly." Wooyoung stood there still in a state of surprise, acknowledging his sister's words, before returning to his regular composure.

"Oh I'll figure it out, he can't keep a secret from me." He flashed a grin at his sister and sauntered to the living room, grabbing an empty bottle and calling everyone to sit down and play spin the bottle.

You reluctantly sat down in the fairly small circle after San linked arms with you and practically pulled you to it. Surprisingly most of the guests didn't want to play so most of them either sat down to spectate and cheer on the players or moved outside to relax in the warm summer night air.

"Who's going first then?" Seonghwa sighed looking around the circle, praying someone would volunteer so there wouldn't be an extensive game of rock paper scissors.

"One of the hosts should go first, it's courtesy" Yeosang chimed in, looking between Wooyoung and Vee.

"Ooh, I'll go then~" Vee chirped, leaning into the middle and giving the bottle a good spin. The circle of people watched the bottle circle round a few times before landing dead centre between Hongjoong and Mingi.

"That's pointing at me!" Mingi exclaimed to Hongjoong, only for Hongjoong to argue back that it was pointing at him.

Vee laughed at the bickering boys, "I'll kiss you both then, yeah?" She crawled over to where they were and gave them a quick peck each before moving back to her space. You rolled your eyes and laughed at the boys who were abashedly blushing next to you. They span the bottle a few more times before it finally landed on you. At this point the group was teetering on the edge of being buzzed and drunk, you being the former.

"Come on y/n spin it!~" Vee shouted not being able to register her volume now, obviously being the latter the way her cheeks were rosy. You reached over to the bottle and spun it, anticipation making your stomach churn. You watched it spin round and around, feeling as though it was taking hours to slow down. Finally, it came to a halt and your heart stopped, knowing damn well who was sitting in that direction. But as you looked up -

"Yunho! kiss! kiss! kiss!" the circle cheered and gawked at the two of you in excitement. You and Yunho met in the middle before pressing your lips together briefly, moving back to your designated spots. Yunhos cheeks were slightly flushed, mostly from the alcohol, but before you could think about it anymore, your eyes drifted to Wooyoung who was staring right back at you. His eyelids were lowered as he kept his gaze fixed on your lips. what the fuck? You would blame it on him drinking but he had drank less than you at the point, so it was kind of scaring your buzzed brain.

As you watched the bottle spin over and over again, it managed to keep narrowly avoiding you, making your stomach flip time and time again as it passed you. As the circle started to get bored, Vee suggested we amp up the tension by playing truth or dare.

"But if you decide not to do it you have to take a shot, okay?" The group nods in agreement and Vee spins the bottle once more to decide who the first victim is. As the bottle span once the tension rose in your chest, you could already feel who it was going to land on, and sure enough, it came to a halt pointing straight at the man across from you.

"Woo! Truth or dare?" He ponders for a second before deciding on his answer.

"Dare." Wooyoung looks at you before returning his line of sight to his sister. But, before she could answer with a dare, you chimed in first.

"I dare you to back Mingi's cup!" You looked at the growing horror on his face, as Mingi was famous for his awful attempts at being a mixologist, but Woo wasn't ready to lose a dare, even if the counterpart was only taking one shot instead. He wasn't really thinking at that moment since it was you who asked. You watched him stand up and walk over to Mingi, grabbing his cup and staring at it briefly while grimacing before bringing it to his soft lips and chugging it in one go. As he finished the drink he hissed at the taste and shook his head before giving Mingi a stinkeye and walking back to his seat.

"Okay, y/n, truth or dare" Wooyoung studied you, waiting for your answer.

"Uh, truth?" you stammered out trying to think about what Wooyoung would've made you do if you had picked dare, probably make you jump in the pool or-

"What was the last thing you touched yourself over?" what the fuck? the room filled with oohs and giggles while they waited for your answer. How the fuck could you tell them it was a dream about Wooyoung that had pushed you over the edge? you hadn't even told Vee because she still would have likely been horrified despite her interest

"um, a dream." The circle cheered and laughed again at your answer and you could feel your cheeks warming.

"what was it about y/n?" Wooyoung pushed more and the circle seemed to get more excited in anticipation of your reply.

You huffed at Wooyoung, "Not telling you weirdo, plus it's not 21 questions." feeling eyes on you at your small outburst. "I'm gonna get a drink, carry on without me, I'll be back." You smiled, putting on your best poker face before getting up and leaving the room. you could feel Wooyoungs eyes on the back of you as you walked out almost making you stumble. You walked through the kitchen, grabbed a fresh drink filled to the brim and walked out to the pool, slipping your shoes off once again and dipping your feet into the pool. You felt your body cool down in the summer night air as you swayed your legs in the water and sipped on your drink. Why was Wooyoung being so weird today? His gaze was making you feel dizzy, you'd never really felt this way about him so why was a silly dream affecting you so much? You felt as if he was reading your mind all night and it was starting to get to you honestly.

"You want to smoke?" The familiar voice nearly made you fall into the pool, Speak of the fucking devil. You turn your head to see the last person you would want to right now, holding a joint in one hand and a lighter in the other. Despite your need to be as far away as possible from this man right now, you couldn't pass up the one chance at relaxation being offered to you.

"…Sure." You reluctantly answered him. He took a seat way too close for your comfort at this moment, but you tried to shrug the weird feeling in your stomach off. You watched Wooyoung hold the joint between his fingers and light it, bringing it to his lips. He took a hit and handed it to you, smoke cascading out of his mouth while looking into your eyes.

"Your turn," He kept observing you as you took a hit from the joint, feeling it travel down into your lungs and relaxing you instantly. You took one more long puff before handing it back to the boy next to you and laid back to look up at the stars. You and Wooyoung kept passing it back and forth in silence till it was finished, him now laying back with you.

"Why do you hate me so much, y/n?" He said so quietly you barely caught it.

You sighed before formulating a reply, "You used to irritate me a lot when we were younger, you'd pushed my buttons too much and I started to dislike you more and more. Now though? I'm not really sure anymore." You tilted your head to look at Wooyoung only to see he was looking right back at you. He was always looking at you.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be your friend, but you pushed me away and the only way I knew how to get your attention was to do what I did, and eventually I didn't even realise what I was doing to you, to our relationship." His words felt sincere, and fuck you felt horrible. You knew Wooyoung only acted that way with you and you hadn't even noticed why, not even after ten years of fighting. You kept looking into his eyes, and you could see the sadness in them. Was that always there and you just never noticed?

"I never said thank you for the clothes you gave me when I came out, did I?…thank you."

"I knew you needed them, they were waiting in a stack for the day you would claim them." before you could even realise it, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. Wooyoung hesitantly lifted his palm to your face and wiped the wetness from your face, stroking his finger under your eye and cupping your face with his hand. His soft thumb swiped back and forth, gently caressing your face.

He looked so pretty in the moonlight. The way the light sat on his lashes and defined his jaw made you want to touch. You craved to feel the surface of his skin grazing against your palm right now you could hardly fight it. Instead, you leaned into his chest and rested your head on his collarbone, not daring to look into his eyes right now, not daring to reveal the emotions in the expression that was on your face. He stroked your hair rhythmically and you felt your whole body relaxed into his touch, god was this what you were missing out on all this time?

"Don't fall asleep on me now, my sister will kill me if she sees I let you sleep on the floor," You chuckled into the warmth of his chest before finally sitting up, Wooyoung following you.

"you wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at him, not waiting for an answer, taking your shirt off and sliding into the heated pool. You swam to the middle, hearing a splash behind you, and turned around to see a now wet-haired Wooyoung following suit. You tried to ignore the fact that now he really reminded you of your dream - hair soaked, droplets dripping down his shimmering skin as his smile spread wide at you. You tried to swim away but your battle was quickly lost when you felt a hand grab your ankle and pull you under the water.

Your body flipped underwater, turning around to feel Wooyoung right above you. His hands came to your face and begged you to look in his eyes. You opened them to see his face inches from yours, and how desperate his eyes were to close the short distance between the two of you, and you were only a weak man. You pulled him down by the nape of his neck and joined your lips together and good lord, even underwater, it was still better than you imagined. Wooyoung broke the kiss after a few seconds and brought you back to the surface for air, not giving you long till he dived back in to kiss you once more, his hands begging to feel every inch of your waist and pull you towards him. The way his skin felt against yours felt hot and you needed more of it everywhere so desperately.

"Woo I need you," you whispered, trying to communicate with your eyes and praying he would understand.

"You have me, baby." His body moved you backwards, out of sight from the living room and windows, until your back hit the side of the pool. His mouth made its way to your neck, nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "Can I touch you?" He whispered into your ear, biting your earlobe.

You nodded into his shoulder, hungry for the feeling of his fingers in you. His hand slipped passed the waistband of your swim shorts, giving him straight access to you. His fingertip grazed up and down your slit, teasing your aching clit.

"Wooyoung please" You whined into his ear, deciding to take some sort of initiative and fidget with the strings of his shorts, tugging at them till he permitted you to touch.

"You wanna touch me, baby?" He grabbed your hand in his and slipped it into his shorts, letting you get a feel of the bottom of his stomach, hand slowly inching down till you reached the base of his girth. His other hand was still teasing your cunt, finally allowing one digit to slide into your hole. You moaned softly into his shoulder, writhing at the pleasure of feeling him in you, while still beating yourself up from missing out on this for so long.

As you were about to start stroking his cock you heard the back door open. You and Wooyoung shot your heads around to see who it was, quickly separating yourselves to not get caught. You heard the loud music bouncing throughout the house as a hoard of people spread out onto the porch, all ready to go for another swim, Vee carrying another speaker with her to liven up the night.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Vee shouted over the music, looking between the two of you with a shocked expression.

You looked at Wooyoung trying to formulate an answer, but you answered for him instead, "Oh, we were just talking… about stuff…" You watched her face try to decipher what you meant, but she came up short with answers. She could tell that both of you were stoned though, and honestly? She was grateful you were getting along, even if it was just for one night. Wooyoung watched Vee walk away, far enough before he asked you,

"Do you wanna go upstairs?" He pressed his body against you slightly, and you could feel how hard he was against your leg. His eyes were begging for this not to end here, and you didn't feel the need to argue for once in your life, So you dragged him to the ladder and got out first, ready with a towel for him once he got out so he could hide what was going on his shorts. Once he was out he clutched your hand in his own, pulling you through the house and up the stairs to the safety of his room. Before you could even react Wooyoung had you pressed up against the closed door, lips back on the underside of your jaw. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room. You had only been in here a handful of times, in which you'd never spent long enough to have a good look around the area. As you examined the room, your eyes zeroed in on the bong on his bedside table.

"You have a bong?" Your voice came out hoarse.

"Yeah, you ever..?" Wooyoung questioned.

You looked at him, "No… Can I?" He smiled at you and brought you over to his bed. The bong was already filled with fresh water, as Wooyoung packed the bowl, grabbed his lighter and held it to the bowl igniting it. He inhaled for a few seconds before pulling the bowl out, inhaling the rest of the smoke. He gave you a smug grin at your amazement and handed the bong over to you.

"So I'm gonna light it for you, and when I pull the bowl out, I'm gonna need you to inhale the rest of it or it'll leave stale smoke in the chamber, okay? now I'll let you do a little hit to get you started, just put your lips on it like I did, baby." His sugarcoated pet names had your stomach doing flips, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your lips met the mouthpiece and you waited for wooyoungs signal.

"Okay I'm lighting it, start inhaling gently…" You followed his instructions, feeling the water bubbling and the smoke enter your mouth. "Okay inhale fully," Wooyoung concentrated as he pulled the bowl out, you felt the fresh air clear the bong and go into your mouth. You took your mouth off of the bong and exhaled, feeling a cough climb out of your throat with the smoke - Wooyoungs hand instantly joined you to rub circles on your back, a little laugh coming from him at your suffering. After you laughed with him, "Let me try again, I won't cough this time-" Wooyoung suddenly kissed you quickly, making your body follow him as he pulled away.

"Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you again." He looked…Bashful? You had never seen this on him, and God it made him look hotter, I mean, really how did you not realise any of this? He brought the bong back to your mouth getting ready to light it once more. "You wanna do the same or a bigger hit?"

You tried to think through your already clouded mind, "Big." was all you were able to come out with, too busy staring at his pretty face. You put your lips to the bong and Wooyoung repeated the process, adding an extra second before pulling the bowl out for you. You felt slightly lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, laying back slowly to ground yourself, hearing Woo take a hit above you. As Wooyoung joined your side, Your mind started filling with all the dirty things you wanted to do with him, all the things you could do to make up for wasted time. Woo felt you sit up and throw a leg over his waist so you were straddling him.

"You know what you asked me earlier? About what my dream was about?" You leant down to his face and whispered in the shell of his ear. "It was about you. I was dreaming about you, looking all sexy fresh out of the shower, touching me." You looked at his face, hooded eyes but still surprised at your confession. You ground your hips down on his bulge, feeling his hard-on grow against you once again

"Y/n…" You halted your movements, shit, had you done too much? Before you could worry you felt his hips rise looking for the friction "Oh God please don't stop, y/n." His hands landed on your hips and pulled you back down, moving your hips with his own. He whimpered under you as you rolled your hips along him, thumbs massaging your flesh. His head tilted back and you took your chance to nip at the base of his throat, and began to suck, leaving a blooming mark in its wake. Your mouth needed to be busy, begging to have Woo in it any way you could have him. You left a trail of bites on his collarbone leading up to the underside of his jaw and ears, making him huff with each one.

"Mine," you whispered. He heard you. Your words sent him into overdrive as he sat up and flipped your bodies so you were now under him before he started tugging at your shorts.

"need these stupid things off," He mumbled finally getting them off you, leaving you completely exposed. "Can I eat you out? I really wanna taste you." He patiently waited for your response like a dog waiting for a treat. As soon as you nodded, cheeks blushed, He dived in and started to devour your aching cunt. His tongue was working magic against your hole, nose rubbing your clit deliciously as he moaned into you. You writhed against his mouth, hands gripping his hair to ground you because of the way he took you to cloud nine.

You could already feel the orgasm building as he greedily ate you out. His tongue worked against your clit as he added a digit to your soaked hole, moving it in and out in a steady rhythm, desperate to bring you over the edge before he finally fucked you senseless. He was barely taking breaks to breathe, ready to die if it meant he'd die face buried in your sweet cunt, the way you clenched around his finger was going to make him cum in his shorts at just the feeling. Both of your senses were heightened from the weed and the pleasure was a hundred times stronger than usual, you weren't sure you were gonna last long and Wooyoung could tell. "You gonna come on my fingers, baby?" He said, voice croaky as he added another finger, "Cum on my face pretty boy, I want to feel you on my tongue when you do."

Wooyoungs words sent your body over the edge, and you seized up as you let go, feeling Wooyoung sucking your clit while you rode it out on his fingers. He unlatched his mouth from you, feeling your body calm down, and slid his fingers out of you to see them soaked in your arousal. You watched him with hooded eyes as he licked the traces of you off of his fingers. Fuck, that sight alone could've brought you to an orgasm again.

"Gonna fuck your pretty hole now, baby" You moaned at his tone, pulling him to you so you could taste yourself in his mouth, tongues moving in unison. Once you had a good grip on him, you pulled him back onto the bed and stood up to pull his shorts down. You watch his hard cock spring out from them and licked your lips at the sight. You knew it was big, you could feel it but fuck, the way it glistened from the precum leaking out of his tip, made your desire to taste him grow one hundred times. You leaned down to his tip and gripped the base, before running your tongue across it and sinking down about halfway. He whined feeling your mouth around his hardness, it was heaven but, "I don't wanna cum in your mouth baby, want you on my cock now," He begged you, needing to feel you, to connect you.

You needed him just as badly, so you moved upwards so you could straddle him. You lifted your hips and hovered over his cock, holding it so you could get the angle right before slowly sinking down on him. You felt so full as he entered you, the stretch feeling the best you had ever felt. You knew nothing else would ever feel the way Wooyoung felt in you at that moment, you would never be able to take another cock that would feel as good as he did. His voice cracked as you finally bottomed out on him, staying there until you both adjusted to the feeling.

"Holy fuck, give me a second or I'll bust early" Wooyoung huffed out, his chest sinking and rising quickly as if he had forgotten to breathe, because well, he did. "Fuck baby, you feel so good, your boy cunt is mine, it's mine you're mine oh my god." Wooyoung babbled, his brain completely fried from how you clenched around him.

"You ready for me to move, baby?" You whispered to Wooyoung, receiving a nod from Wooyoung as you started slowly rocking your hips back and forth. The feeling of him reaching deep into you was pure bliss. Wooyoungs hands had a death grip on your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh, making you moan with each movement.

"Fuck Wooyoung, you feel so good, I don't know how long I can last," You could already feel yourself losing control of your sanity, but you weren't about to let this end so quickly. You lifted your hips to slam back down onto his cock, making him moan loudly. You kept this rhythm going and the pleasure was overwhelming, feeling the way he hit your g spot so nicely each time you bounced on him.

"Ah fuck, fuck you feel so fucking amazing holy fuck please don't stop," His praises kept fueling you to sink onto him deeper and deeper with each stroke. You both were losing your sanity together and it was fucking incredible, if Wooyoung was ready to die happy before, he was even more sure now that he was buried so deep in you that he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to leave you and the way you gripped his throbbing member. Your body ached to be filled by Wooyoungs cum, not ready to feel empty once he was done. You craved to feel full like this for as long as you were on this earth, while Wooyoung was by your side.

"Baby I'm not gonna last much longer, where do you want me to cum?" Wooyoung wheezed out between breaths.

"In me, please god please, I need you in me," You begged, speeding your pace up as Wooyoung reached to circle your clit.

"Are you sure?" He said worried.

"It's fine I'm on the pill, please Woo I need it." Wooyoung rocked his hips aggressively as his orgasm built up, yours ready to spill over the edge. His hand sped up on your clit and finally, your orgasm hit you like a truck, ripping a guttural moan from your chest. Wooyoung felt you clenching around him so hard that his own orgasm followed suit, His soul being snatched from him as you kept riding out yours.

Your body turned to jelly as you finished and you flopped down onto Woo's chest, hearing his heart racing against your ear.

"Fuck me." He gasped out, still trying to catch his breath, making you laugh.

"I literally just did Woo." He pinched your side in response, making you laugh more, your arms wrapping around him. You sat there until you had both calmed down, before sliding out of you. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and you whined at the loss as he moved you to the side of him so he could clean up.

"Sorry, baby I gotta clean you, and me up. I'll be two seconds." You watched him walk to his bathroom, damn he's got a nice ass, you thought to yourself, waiting for him to come back. Sure enough, he was quick, and back with a washcloth to clean you up. He was careful as he wiped you down, knowing you'd still be sensitive after two orgasms. He handed you some of his clothes to put on and excused himself to get the two of you some water.

"Where have you been? and where's y/n? I can't find him," Vee questioned Wooyoung as he reached the bottom of the stairs, noticing he had changed into sleep clothes despite the party still going.

"Don't tell me…" Vee thought about the circumstance, and the guilty look on Wooyoung's face.

"Did you fuck my best friend??" She watched the corners of Wooyoung's mouth curl up, and she knew she already had the answer.

"Sorry?" Wooyoung said very unapologetically as Vee punched him in the arm.

"If you ever hurt him I'll kill you, I do not care if you're my twin. I still have kyungmin, you hear me?" Vee said dead seriously, slightly scaring Wooyoung, but he couldn't help but make fun.

"I solemnly swear to never hurt y/n as long as I live, Seargent!" vee punched him one more getting ready to send a very long message to y/n.

Wooyoung arrived back upstairs, two bottles of water in his arms and a few munchies in the other.

"Oh you're a godsend Wooyoung- never thought I'd say that…" You laughed with Wooyoung as he plopped down next to you in bed, putting a movie on and cuddling up to you.

"Sorry, it took so long for us to be friends, Wooyoung. Woo." You sighed, avoiding eye contact with him now, guilt still eating away at you after everything.

"I don't want to be friends." Wooyoung declared, waiting for you to look at him. You shot your head around, confused and concerned.

"What? What do you mean?"

Wooyoung smiled before answering, " I've loved you too long just to be friends, y/n." Tears filled your eyes as you wrapped yourself around him, needing his warmth. "I love you y/n."

"Love you too."

AHHHH tysm if you made it to the end I hope you enjoyed!!! <33333333 thank you again for 500 followers !!!❤️

[just-some-random-blogger]

You're Not Cute

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: i saw a fucking tiktok of pedro reciting shakespeare and i will never forgive him for not letting me lie on his lap while he strokes my hair and recites said shakespeare to me. i thought you were a feminist pedrito?! i trusted you pepe. fuck you (me).

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, actor/actress!reader, reader has hair im sorry if ur bald T_T and whipped for pedro and reading this, established but not public relationship (shhh it'll make sense), pedro go to jail party, crack fic, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: we all know pedro pascal watches his edits, but i wonder if he's ever... read fics of himself 💀💀💀💀 hi papi! if you're reading this first of all why second of all i love you the tiktok in question that has me at gunpoint tumblr. look at this gif. this is your man??? this is OUR man? fuck off. ALSO I HAVENT PROOFREAD THIS COS I GOT CHORES BYE Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz

"Wooooweeee!"

My eyes dart from my reflection on the mirror to the grinning man who popped up from behind me. I turn to him just as he begins wiggling his brows. I make a face him as he narrows his eyes and snaps his fingers while trotting over to me, "looking good, mi amor," he rolls his tongue to mimic a purr and gestures like a cat, "RRRRRRRRRRR."

I roll my eyes at him as I chuckle, turning back to my reflection, "hands off Pedro."

He gasps in offence, raising his hands, "I haven't even touched you yet!"

I lean in to more clearly see the dark blue line I was drawing by my eyes, "ok then," I shrug, "sorry for assuming."

Pedro tilts his head and waves his hands, "apology accepted--" he moves forward until he was close enough to snake his arms around me, "--in form of touching you."

I huff at his shenanigans but do not fight him off. In fact, I lean into his back hug and rest my head against him as we both look at our reflections in the mirror. I motion to my face amidst my scrutiny, "is the eyeliner too much?"

"Nope," he kisses my temple then retorts rather seriously, "it's yas slay."

I make a face.

His serious expression only lasts two seconds before he explodes into laughter. I release a huff as I bring my hand to my face while he thoroughly enjoys his own stupidity. I release one airy chuckle before giving myself a final once over, deciding I looked well put together enough. He inhales deeply to catch his breath then sighs against me, "you smell soooo good."

"It's called a shower," I moved to elbow him off, "you should try it sometime."

I grunt as I struggle against him. I hiss when I feel his mouth on me, "PEDRO!"

He pulls back, all after managing to leave a wet bite on my neck.

Pedro recoils and raises his hands in defeat. I punch him on the chest before wiping his mark.

He sighs, "it's kinda hard to shower by yourself, ya know. I need some help. Also!" he points, "you're dirty now, you got a little," he motions to his neck, "dribble on you-"

"PEDRO PLEASE," I pinch my fingers together, "my interview is in like, ten minutes," I point at him and scold, "contain yourself. Stay in your room."

I begin to storm off and he watches, moaning like a baby, "you mean our ro-"

I feel him follow after me. I snap, "STAY IN YOUR ROOM!" halting in my tracks. I push him back as I grab the door knob. He gives me a puppy dog frown. I give him one last point before closing the door behind me on my way out, "stay here."

Alas. I was in the living room, with a laptop set up in front of me as I did my online interview. I was glad that my Pedrito followed my orders and stayed in the bedroom for the entire duration. Not long now before it ends.

I smile to the interviewers as they begin to wrap up our short segment. I, along with he two hosts from a live news channel, laugh at the closing remarks. Suddenly, I find myself looking out to my side when I see an incoming Pedro just about to pass by.

He was stretching as he walked. He looked like he managed a brief power nap.

Oh fucking shit, he's going to the bathroom. And he's going to pass behind me to get there.

"Now, do you want to invite your fans to watch your film?" the male host asks.

"Uhhh," I trial off, as I turn to my side, rather un-inconspicuously. Pedro was soooooooo close now.

I panic as I turn between my camera and my impeding doom, "uhhh."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Aint no way he was about to pass behind me and expose us like this.

THINK! WHAT DO WE DO?!??!

If I say his name, they're going to know it's him, but if I don't they're going to ask who I'm talking to anyway, but if I ignore him, he's going to pass and reveal himself. FUCKKKKK-

And in the split second of panic, I burst out the secret fourth option, and quite possibly the worst one, "FUCK!"

Yeah. Everyone stops.

Cue, my string of panicked apologize, "shit, I'm- fuck, SORRY SORRY SORRY!"

I catch Pedro, just as he realized what he has just done, or what he was about to do, rather.

"Sorry," I cover my hands on my face, "Sorry I-"

The interviewers laugh at me as I recuperate.

I sigh, turning to my side, "it's- there's a ghost that lives in my house."

"Oh, wow, you live in a haunted house?" the female host chuckles, "how thrilling."

"Yeah," I turn back to my camera, "it's quite stressful."

The interviewers chuckle as I regain composure and wave at my camera, "anyway, the ghost in my house says go watch the film with your loved ones, with family, friends, and your house ghosts too. We all worked very hard on the film, and we hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed working on it."

"Right!" Pedro agrees off camera, making me tense in my seat. He adds rather weakly as we make quick eye contact, "right."

The male host laughs, "wow, your ghost is really excited about this film."

"The ghost is going to get evicted soon. I'm calling an exorcist." I force a smile.

Finally, we say our goodbyes and I immediately shut my computer before any other fiasco happens.

"Sorry!" Pedro says immediately once he drops to his knees next to me, "I had booger brain. I woke up from a nap."

I look down at his messy hair and remorseful face. He grabs onto my legs and continuously apologizes to me.

I roll my eyes at him and tilt his head up at me as I grab him by his dark hair, "apology with tears."

He pouts, "I'm really, really sorry, baby. My booger brain..."

I release my grip on him and he immediately sits down next to me and pulls me into him. He continuously apologizes and I lean into his touch, beginning to feel bad for how genuinely remorseful he was. Just a little. He's kinda cute when he's pathetic like this.

"Pedro it's fine," I say, turning to him, pecking his lips repeatedly, "nothing happened. The hosts played it off too, which was really nice of them."

I crawl onto his lap and embrace him. He sighs and embraces me back. I nuzzle my face into his neck and murmur, "weren't you going to the bathroom?"

"Hmm? No, I was going to make a sandwich."

I snort, "of course you were."

I pull my head back and we look at each other. Pedro rubs my back. An idea springs into mind. I smile deviously, "I have decided that your apology will be in a form of Shakespeare."

When I shift off him to lie on the sofa and prop my head on his thigh, he looks down at me with furrowed brows. He brings his hands to his chest, "is the genuineness of my remorse not sufficient enough for you?"

"No, Don John," I sigh, "hark to me. From the top. Much Ado About Nothing."

Pedro chuckles airily before gathering my hair and pulling it back so that he could comb through it with his fingers. He sighs, and I turn to him as he scrunches his face, "I don't fucking remember."

"Do the, 'I must be sad when I...' like, feel like it, or some shit."

Pedro throws his head back and laughs. He sucks in a sharp breath, "like," he says with his exaggerated LA accent, "I have to be sad when I feel like I need to be sad."

"Exactly! Do that part," I giggle.

He continues, "I also will totally not smile at your lame jokes," he purses his lips and makes a face.

"Wait, that's what that means?"

Pedro nods at me, "yeah that's what that means."

"I thought that meant, like, I'll cry when I want to and smile when I want to."

"Well," he caresses my cheek, "you're not too far off."

I wave my hands, "ok, ok, now do the rest, and do it properly this time."

He playfully growls at me, "well, it's kinda hard to do Shakespeare when this cute lil thing is distracting me."

"Do better then."

"I'd rather do you."

"Pedro."

"What? You started it!"

I roll my eyes make a zipper motion to my mouth.

Pedro clears his throat. He mumbles some lines to himself to jog his memory, "... sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man’s business," he states in an exaggerated manner, "laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humor."

I hold in a laugh as he raises his hands in dramatics.

"And then," Pedro calls, "Conrad says something but I can't remember what he says."

"Pedro!" I whine.

"What?! I can't recite something I forgot, now can I?" he replies, busying himself with brushing my hair again.

I cross my arms, "boomer."

"Yeah, but I'm your boomer," he says pinches my nose. I wrangle against his actions and sequentially sit up.

Before I could retaliate, a phone rings across the room. It takes a second for me to realize it was I that received a phone call. I go ahead and answer upon seeing it was from my manager.

"Hello?"

"What have you done?!"

I pull my head back at her tone, "uh... hello to you too. What do you-"

"Are you aware you have a mirror behind your sofa?" she says.

I make a face. What does that-

I freeze, expression dropping as I turn to Pedro and slowly then to the mirror behind my sofa. There's a mirror behind my sofa. I have a fucking mirror behind my sofa.

My manager hums at my silence, "so, you want to make a statement with the ghost in your house before people catch on, or-"

I sigh as my manager begins to run down the possible things we could do. Pedro looks at me in concern as I wipe my face in frustration.

"Yeah, okay, okay. Let me call back in a minute. Bye."

Once I hang up, Pedro shifts on his spot and raises his brows at me.

I purse my lips, "they could see you in the mirror, Pedro."

He knits his brows, "see me in the mirror?"

I raise my brows at him.

He tries to piece it together, "see me in the... OH."

"Yeah, oh. My manager already spoke to yours, and they want to know what we want to do before people start making memes about your ugly face in my fucking mirror."

Pedro gives a guilty look. He throws his arm on the backrest and drops his head on his shoulder, "I... could change my name on Instagram to 'Ghost'."

I roll my eyes, "not fucking helping, Pedro."

"NO! But I'm serious, I-"

[thewonandonly]

RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".  

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting. 

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme. 

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio. 

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation. 

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo. 

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel. 

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened. 

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit. 

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask. 

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down." 

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins. 

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun. 

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second. 

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving." 

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye. 

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates." 

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break. 

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called. 

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating.  But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept. 

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned. 

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van. 

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card." 

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base. 

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare. 

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers. 

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled. 

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard. 

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded. 

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound." 

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in. 

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here." 

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch. 

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist. 

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum. 

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last? 

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door. 

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule. 

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way. 

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. 

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in. 

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly. 

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity. 

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile. 

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this." 

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others. 

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them. 

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi. 

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years. 

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with. 

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously. 

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire. 

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously. 

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered. 

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot. 

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava. 

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor. 

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes. 

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out. 

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured. 

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it. 

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved. 

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before. 

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear. 

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims." 

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?" 

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did. 

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed. 

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. 

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead. 

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position. 

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists. 

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods. 

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there. 

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups. 

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else. 

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth. 

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes. 

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly. 

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there. 

And that was definitely not going to cut it. 

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days. 

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away.��

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here. 

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed. 

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me." 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red. 

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers. 

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep." 

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had. 

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own. 

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth. 

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream. 

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head. 

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?" 

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips. 

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring? 

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice. 

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered. 

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all. 

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room. 

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash. 

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes. 

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic." 

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us." 

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance. 

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay. 

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders. 

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door. 

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit." 

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could. 

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously. 

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

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