#it's literally just the egg it talks in the egg's voice and everything it just looks vaguely skeppy-like

[bigboobyhalo]

been thinking a lot about what I think happened to c!BBH post-egg finale

[arieslost]

Omg thank you so much for writing my Oscar x stressed reader I felt like I related so much and your writing is just too tear I loveeeee it ❤️

I was wondering if you could do maybe like on Oscar x like a sick reader or something like that I literally have the worst flue and stomach bug atm

Thank so much -❤️❤️

i’m so glad you liked it!! i hope you’re feeling better by time i post this :((

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

sick day | op81

you always prided yourself in going long stretches of time without getting sick, and if you did, it was only a mild cold that went away within a day or two. so, when you woke up one morning with a sore throat, you ignored it. when your nose got stuffy, you ignored it. when the uncharacteristic headache hit you, you popped some ibuprofen and called it a day.

but then you wake up the next morning and instantly know that this isn’t just a cold. the high temperature flashing back at you on the thermometer only confirms it, and unfortunately you can’t ignore this. not if you don’t want oscar to get sick too. so, when you crawl back into bed and he goes to kiss your forehead like he does every morning, you shy away from him.

“i might be sick,” you manage to croak out.

“might be?” oscar frowns. “honey, you sound like me when i first hit puberty.”

you try to glare at him, but what he said was kind of funny and your huff of laughter turns into a coughing fit that sounds nothing short of excruciating. you think you see oscar physically recoil out of the corner of your eye.

“why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asks once you down a few sips of water.

“because i never get sick!” you exclaim, raising a hand to your head when it pounds courtesy of your own voice. “now i’m a hazard for myself, and you. actually, you probably shouldn’t be this close to me. go away.”

you start pushing him out of the bed with your foot, and he stifles his own laughter as he gets up. “stay there, okay? i’ll take care of you.”

“no, no, i don’t want you to get sick. just leave me here and let me sweat it out or something.” you wave him off, trying to act casual, and then you cough again. “ow.”

“i’ll make tea. does your stomach hurt?” you shake your head no in response. “some toast and eggs too, then.” you open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off. “and you can’t stop me because the only way to do that is to physically kick me out, and you can’t touch me. otherwise i’ll get sick.”

“i hate you,” you grumble, even though you don’t think you’ve ever loved him more than you do in this moment.

“hang tight, baby. i’ll take care of you.” he blows you a kiss and hurries out of the room.

“don’t burn the toast!” you yell after him, immediately regretting it as your throat feels like it’s on fire the more you talk.

within the next ten minutes, you feel like you’ve sweat through your pajamas, and the sheets feel damp underneath your body. he comes to check on you and only needs to take one look at you to know something’s wrong.

“what is it?”

“i’m just… really hot. and everything feels icky.” you complain.

“okay, baby. can you sit up?” he asks, reaching for a hair tie on your nightstand. “where’s your comb?”

“top drawer.” you say as you push yourself up. “you better not come near me.”

“what are you gonna do about it? cough on me? come on,” he gestures for you to lean forward a little so he can brush your hair. “don’t worry about me. let me take care of you, yeah? no more arguing.”

“fine. but only because it hurts to talk.” you acquiesce, eyes falling shut at the tingles every brush of the comb through your hair sends to your scalp. “feels nice.”

“good,” you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice as he gently gathers your hair up into a ponytail and carefully ties the elastic. “lemme get you some clothes, and then let’s go out to the couch, hmm?”

you want to tell him no, you don’t want to contaminate anything else, but you also don’t want to stay here in a puddle of your own sweat, so you let him help you change into a pair of his sweats and an old t-shirt, and because he’s being so sweet, you don’t pull away from him when he takes your hand and leads you out to the living room.

you situate yourself on the couch, clutching your water bottle in your hands for dear life. not necessarily because you feel like drinking it, but because it’s cold and it feels good. meanwhile, oscar is bustling around looking like he’s doing five things at once. one moment he’s moving the eggs around in the pan, the next he’s getting sheets out of the linen closet, and then he’s in the bathroom with the sink running.

“i could get used to this,” you tease, managing to not sound completely miserable as he brings over two cool cloths. one goes on your neck, and the other rests against your forehead. “ah, my fever’s already gone.”

“nice try,” oscar says, adjusting the cloth on your forehead a little. “eggs are almost done, you ready to eat?”

“are you gonna feed me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, and promptly have your second coughing fit of the morning.

“i might have to, you can barely talk without almost coughing up a lung.” he moves into the kitchen and begins making up a plate for you, followed by pouring hot water into a mug and placing the tea bag in before adding some honey and stirring it. “i didn’t burn the toast, so i expect a five star rating.”

“we’ll see about that,” you say, eagerly accepting the mug of tea when he holds it out and taking a long sip. even though it’s hot, it feels incredible as it goes down your throat. “i’m willing to give you bonus points for the tea.”

“that doesn’t count, i didn’t actually make that. c’mon, have some food.” he takes the mug from you and replaces it with the plate of toast and eggs.

you eat without complaint, but your nose being so stuffy kind of takes away from your ability to taste. all the same, you make your reactions as enthusiastic as possible. oscar’s a pretty decent cook, you both know it, but it’s been a running bit in your relationship to smack talk his skills in the kitchen.

“thanks, oz.” you say quietly when you’re done eating and you’ve drank two cups of tea. “i feel a lot better already.”

“you look sleepy,” he points out, flipping both cloths so the cooler sides can be on your skin.

“no, ‘m fine.” you disagree, even though you can feel yourself sinking back into the couch and your eyelids getting heavy.

“take a nap, honey. you’ll feel even better if you let your body rest.” he stands up to clear your dishes, and you stop him by weakly grabbing the bottom of his shirt. “what’s the matter?”

“nothing, just… want you to stay.”

“of course, baby. one second.” he’s quick to put your dishes in the sink before he’s back at your side, and you waste no time in slumping against him. “are you sure you want to cuddle? you feel pretty hot still.”

“i’m always hot, you tell me all the time.”

he sighs, knowing he won’t win this unless he wants to deal with you being sick and annoyed that he won’t do what you want. “touché, honey.”

you don’t answer, so wrapped up in the comfort oscar gives you even though you’re still hot and he’s often your personal heater. strangely enough, his body heat combats the fever heat in a way that’s so nice you don’t even really notice yourself losing consciousness. meanwhile, oscar leans back against the couch, making sure the washcloth stays put against your head and your ponytail doesn’t fall out when you shift in your sleep.

of course, he ends up getting sick a week later, but you’re quick to drop everything and take care of him, just like he did for you.

word count: 1,340

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: i once again hate this ending but we move!! thank you for sending this in!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising III

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 3.7k

Poly!Lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: This chapter will have a brief mention of SA, so this is your warning! But, don’t worry because we kick ass, literally. I also love this chapter, because it does go a bit more into the boys protectiveness and yours and theirs feelings for one another. So please in joy:)

You awoke groggily the next morning. 

Staying up late the night before at the boardwalk did not mix in well with your normal sleeping routine. Sun filtered through the blinds, the light casting a glow throughout your bedroom. You lightly stirred awake, tugging on the itchy sheets to keep last of your sleep from wandering away. 

“Y/n?” A voice called out from behind the closed door. “Sam and I’ve made breakfast, if your hungry.”

A muffled ‘ok’ surpassed your lips, the sound of your mother’s footsteps fading from your door. You reluctantly got out of bed, your pajama shirt that you may or may not have taken from Micheal’s closet rested loosely around your hips, the waist of your shirts twisted around your body from last nights sleep. 

Glancing around your room, you took in the multitude of box’s that littered the ground. Each having different labels from t-shirt and underwear all the way to cd’s and band posters. You knew that you’d have to empty the boxes at one point, and not fish through everything just to find a clean pair of socks.

You slowly walked out of your room, careful not to roll an ankle stepping over a box of shoes. The floor was cold against your bare feet, causing a soft chill to run through your body as you made your way down the stairs. 

Soft clinking of silverware and scraping plates met your ears as you rounded the stairs railing. Sam, Micheal and mom came into view, each of them sitting around the dining table, their breakfast either already eaten or halfway gone. 

Your gave them each a morning greeting, mom receiving a politer one than either of your brothers. Upon entering the kitchen, you made a quick plate, filled with plenty of eggs and bacon to keep your hunger subsided for a couple of hours. 

You returned back to the dining room, sitting next to Micheal. Mom and Sam sat on the opposite side, a single plate pulled with just bacon and a glass of orange juice sat at the head of the table. Definitely Grandpas. 

Though, where the old man currently was, is beyond you. 

As you start to eat your breakfast with your family, the gentle noise from outside passing as conversation for now. Mom let out an appealed hum, mouth stuffed with her own cooking, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to speak. 

“I forgot to tell you guys,” Voice slightly muffled by her hand. “I already found a job for myself.”

You slowed your eating, glancing between your brothers and mother. “Already?” You asked, lightly stabbing the yellow bit of egg. “We’ve been here less than a day, how have you got a job?”

Mom lowered her hand, smile still evident on her face. “Yes, well, last night at the boardwalk, I met a fine man who offered me a job at his store.”

“Fine man?” Micheal echoed, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t have to expect him around the house, will we?”

“No, no.” She waved off. “He is just a sweet man, who happened to notice someone in need of work.”

You shared a quick glance at Micheal, not entirely certain if the guy was just looking out for a stranger or more. Sam, on the other hand, was estatic for mom. Talking with a mouthful of his breakfast. “That’s great, mom. And, just think, when you get your first check, we can buy a TV.”

Micheal rolled his eyes at his brothers sudden accusation, you held back a smile. Remembering the conversation from yesterday about having no MTV to watch here at grandpas. 

“We can’t spend our money on entertainment, Sam. We have help pay for food and bills, we can’t just live off of grandpa forever.” She told him, taking a quick sip of her orange juice. “Besides, a video store will not pay that much on the first check.”

“Your working at a video store?” You asked, even though she had just told you the answer to your question. 

She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table with her plate and drink in hand. “Yes, unfortunately. It was the only thing that I could find in such short notice.” She then walked out of the dining room, leaving you with your brothers. 

Sam looked between you and Micheal, a sad look on his face. “My god,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair with defeat. “We’re going to be living in the streets by the end of the summer.”

You kicked him beneath the table, earning a pained noise to pass his lips. 

After breakfast, you returned back upstairs, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. Kicking an empty box out of your way as you sat down on your bed. Out of the corner of your eye, the sun bounced off of a square object, the light shining in your face. 

Turning in the direction, you eyed the cd from last night. The same one that the bleach blonde slipped into your back pocket. Reaching over, you picked up the object, twisting it around in your hand as you read the song listings for the cd. 

You pondered with the disk in hand, gently tapping it against your palm as you eyed your cd player. A pair of headphones hung on top of the device, eagerly waiting to be played. 

A tired sigh passing your lips as you opened the plastic case. You weren’t one to judge people’s music, often giving each genre a try before making a conclusion on it. But, stolen music was something that’d you’d happily judge. 

Placing the disk into the appropriate slot, you pressed play on the cd player. The music played through the headphones, the padded material fitting snug against your ears. You laid out on your bed, letting the music calm you, despite the punk metal flowing through your head.

You hadn’t seen the four boys over the past week at the boardwalk. Well, you did see them, anyone could see them. But, they were always driving away on their bikes or terrifying some tourists that got to close to them. 

You also didn’t know what to say to them, it wasn’t like you were friends with any of them. So, you just stuck to the side when they would get too close or change directions entirely, not wanting to be noticed by the leatherback motorcyclists.

But, you were noticed.

They knew when you were near, and they knew when you would hide away in a random shop when they’d passed by. To them it was hilarious, this girl that they’d barley known was doing everything in her power to keep herself hidden from them.

It wasn’t like it was something new to them, plenty of people dodged their presence when around them. Often, giving them a clear path to walk along the boardwalk. 

Though, whenever they would catch the sweet odor of your perfume, or the soft beating of your heart. Their feet would follow after you, trailing a good distance behind to not alarm you of their presence. 

And it was like they couldn’t stop when they would catch your smell in a crowd. 

It was something deep down that made them follow after you, something deep within their cold body’s that tethered them with you. They all felt it, that odd pull when one of them would spot you. But, none of them would speak out loud about it, not knowing how to ask what it was or why it was you. 

They just knew that the pull they’d fell would softly strengthen itself they closer they were to you. And a small part of them was curious of what it could mean. 

You watched as the sun lowered itself behind the crashing waves of the ocean, soft pinks and purples mixing in with the night sky before it turns black. It was always mesmerizing how the sun would move so quickly, yet slowly throughout the day. Beginning and ending just as it had started, beautifuly.

The railing from the boardwalk dug into your forearms as you leaned against it, a peaceful feeling scorching through your body at the sight before you. You knew you’d have to leave soon, you promised mom that you’d be back before dinner. 

Pulling yourself from the deck, you made your way over to the stairs leading down to the beach. Straps of your bag digging into your shoulders, as the weight of your items shifted. The only reason that you had brought the thing was because you’d wished to open your wallet a bit more tonight. 

A couple of happy’s for your family and yourself. As well as your house keys, wallet and Walkman. (For when you get bored.)

The sand inched itself into the crevices of your soles, no doubt something that mom would get on to you about if you track any kind of grime into the house. 

You could have just walked along the boardwalk, but you were growing a bit tired of the over packed people crowding around you. Too many sweaty bodies, and far too many noises. So, a nice walk along the beach would be the perfect way to end the night. 

A small fire came into view, the light casting a soft glow around a group of kids that surrounded it. You didn’t recognize them. Not that you’d recognize a whole lot of people with only being in town for a total of two weeks, but still. Loud music came from the group, shouts and laughter erupting the quiet atmosphere of the beach. 

You kept your focus away from the group, not wanting to disturb their own fun. Keeping a far away distance to not draw any attention towards yourself. Though that seems to be the opposite of tonight’s plans. 

A sharp whistle came from the group, dragging you out of your peace. 

You glanced over at the bonfire, stopping momentarily in the sand. They were a lot closer to you than the fire itself, maybe a few feet away than the couple of yards they were previously at. 

“Where you running off to on such a nice night, babe?” One of them asked, his voice slur like. The nickname didn’t roll off his tongue like Paul’s did the other night, no, instead it came off forced and disoriented. Almost like the name was just a way to try and sweet talk you. 

“Home.” You told him bluntly, taking slow but deliberant steps away from them. 

An airy chuckle came from a different guy, “What a coincidence, so are we.”

“Please don’t follow me.” You said over your shoulder, picking up your pace when you realized that they were starting to follow you. 

“Why not, you look like you could use the company.”

You didn’t give a response, instead kept your head forward, ignoring the calls that they continued to ring out. “C’mon, beautiful, this a way to treat a gentleman?”

An hand gripped your arm, yanking you back into the imbrace of a body. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist keeping you tightly in his hold. “I was fuckin’ talking to ya.” He told you, the smell of his intoxicated breath making you gag. 

He pulled you closer to the fire, dragging your body as you kicked and refused to allow him to take you to their spot. The other guys had brutish smiles on their faces, finding the situation as a pleasant form of entertainment for them.

One of the men snatched your bag off your shoulders, tossing it near the bonfire as a couple dug through your possessions. “Let me fucking go!” You shouted, arms and legs kicking out at anyone who got close. Your sudden movements caused the guys grip on you to slip, your feet finally planting firmly on the ground.

You twisted out of the guys hold, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. And, out of a flurry of emotions, you raised your dominant arm, reeling it back before your fist connected with his nose. Hard. 

A sharp crunch came from the man’s nose, and something warm and wet coated your knuckles as you pulled your fist back. The man let out a pained groan, his hands cupping his nose as blood dripped from between his fingers. 

“God! Fuckin’! Dammit!” He shouted, words coming out choppy and rushed as he struggled to breath properly through his nostrils. “Look what you fucking did, you bitch!”

You bit your toungue, fighting off a smug smile. Now is really not the time to play around with these guys, but, you knew it felt good to punch him. The tiny bag of dicks deserved it. “I can see.” You told him taking a small step back from the supposed leader of the group. “And it looks like a shitty nose job, if you ask me.”

“You broke my fucking nose!” He was beyond pissed, anyone with an eye could see that. He pointed a finger at you, blood dripping from the tip. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

God, this guy has a nasty mouth on him. He gets punched one time and it’s all fucking this and fucking that. His mama needs to teach himself some manners. 

You opened you mouth to tell him, ready to snatch your bag back and take off towards grandpas, when a reflective object caught your eye. Glancing over at the man’s hand you saw a knife clutched tightly in his right hand, his fist slightly shaking for how hard his grip was. 

Holy shit. 

He really is gonna kill you. 

Turning swiftly on your foot, you tried to manuver out of the outstretched hands grabbing at you. Sprinting on the sand, you felt as the tiny rocks slowed you down. Everytime you pushed off, your foot slowly sank down into the beach’s bay. 

Holy shit. 

A hand gripped your hair, tight. Your scalp burning as you get yanked back and thrown down on the ground. A yelp slipped past your lips when your upper body hits the floor, the air vacating your lungs. 

You tried to lift your body up, tried to run, tried to scream for help. But, there were suddenly hands everywhere, holding you down on your back, arms and legs pinned down as the man you’d punched leaned over you. 

“You know,” he started, twisting his knife in his palm. “It’d be a real shame for me to fuck up your face, because, well, you sure do got a pretty one.” He trailed his hand over your face, blood trailing behind as he did so. 

“Burn in fucking hell!” You shouted, putting as much strength as you could muster to try  and shove off the ones holding you down. 

A nasty sneer rested on his lips, “But such a shitty attitude, maybe I’ll cut off your tongue, you know, keep you quiet for once.”

The guy pinning down your left arm looked up at the man, slight concern bubbling across his features. “Hughie, yer not actually gonna cut ‘er, right-“

“Shut the hell up!” Hughie shouted at the man, knife pointed dangerously close to his face. “Just shut up.”

He turned back towards you, the knife dropping down to his side as glared down at you. “I ain’t gonna cut the bitch.”

You felt air enter your body, feeling slightly better about the situation now knowing he isn’t actually gonna use the knife. But, you still didn’t know what he was gonna do with you. 

“No, well just take her shitty bag, and I want just a little pay back for the nose.” Hughie brought his index and thumb close together. 

You watched with wide eyes as he walked around you, stopping at the top of your head, kicking just a little bit of sand in your face as he did so. “Fucking slut.” He muttered, before he raised his leg and the heel of his boot came down hard on your face. 

David sat on top of his motorcycle, the kickstand holding him steady as he puffed on his cigarette. The sun had set about an hour ago, the night fresh and just starting. They had plenty of time to scope out the crowd and find their next meal. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paul and Marko sweet talking a group of ladies. They’d be nice for a snack, David thought. The sent of their blood flooding his senses, but, they’d need just a little more to actually fill them up. 

Dwayne leaned against the wooden railing, keeping a steady eye on those who wander too close to him and his brothers. Anyone that catches his eye would immediately steer themselves in a different direction. 

The smell of your blood drifted around the group, drawing Paul and Marko away from the group of girls and back over to their brothers. Your blood was a lot stronger than usual tonight, they noticed. It was more out in the open than what they’d usually smell around you. 

Paul was the first to notice you, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, babe.” He drawled, watching as you came into view of the group. “Where you been lately?”

Though you didn’t stop to acknowledge them, in fact you seemed to walk faster to try and past them. It was slightly uncharacteristic of you, no snarky comment or a roll of your eyes. To say they missed it was an understatement. 

One by one, they each stepped away from their bikes, sauntering over to your fleeting form. The smell of your blood grew stronger and stronger the closer they got to you, the reminder that they need to eat picking at the back of their minds. 

Marko reached you first, gently pulling at your arm to catch your attention. “Hey, beautiful, where you been all week?” Though, you shrugged off his hand, barley giving him a glance as you tried to push through the crowd. 

He furrowed his brows, slightly confused at your demeanor. The first time you’ve met you’d snapped at him for trying to take a silly vinyl, and now you wouldn’t even spare him a second of your attention. 

Even when they’d see you out on the boardwalk, you’d always glance up at them, meeting at least one of their eyes before scurrying in a different direction. 

He quickly glanced at the others, silently asking them what to do. 

David brushed by his brother, understanding him without either having to open their mouths. He took long purposeful strides, the sounds of the others following right behind floated up to his ears. In no time, David was at your side. Gloved fingers wrapping around your forearm, as he spun you around to face them. 

A witty comment danced on the edge of his tongue, the sudden impulse to hear a snarky remark fall from your lips egged him on. Though, what he sa made his thoughts stand still. 

Bruises were found all around your face. A few rested along your jawline and cheekbones, but, the biggest of them all was the one on your right eye. The skin slightly puffed around the eyeball, making it hard to see clearly from that side. 

A dark red was slowly but steadily seeping from your bottom lip, the sticky liquid had had found its way to the collar of your shirt. The fabric had caused the blood to spread across the top. 

That explains the smell of blood. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Your breaths became labored, short intakes and outtakes, eyes darting past the four men to your surroundings. 

David placed both hands on your face, the feeling of his gloved fingers against your skin oddly calmed you. You placed your own hands against his wrist gently trying to tug them away, though, his grip didn’t seem to loosen. 

“Let me go.” You said in a hoarse voice, the sound of it made an odd feeling stir in the pit of the boys stomachs. 

You hadn’t even realized that the rest of the boys had surrounded the two of you. Each eyeing the small marks that littered across your face with hidden emotion. 

Paul had reached forward grasping your hand in his, eyes trailing across the hills of your knuckles. A faint coat of blood was slowly drying itself up, blood that wasn’t your own. The blonde gently showed your hand to the others, discreetly eyeing each of them, a silent conversation threading itself through the air. 

A weak sniffle sounded from you, mindlessly dragging their thoughts back to the fact that you were here right infront of them. “Can I please just go home?” You asked, voice wavering with emotion. 

One by one they each gave a chorus of, ‘of course’ or just a simple nod. Paul released your hand, not before wiping a small trail of blood onto the pad of his finger. Keeping the scent with them as you left. 

David pulled his hands away from your face, the cold touch lingering on your warm skin. They watched as you pushed through the crowd, hand gently pressing against someone’s lower back as you pass by them. An eerie tick crawled its way to the back of David’s mind, something unsettling and terrifying. 

And it didn’t seem to mix well with the need to feed. 

David glanced over at Dwayne, giving him a quick nod. The brunette mirrored his brother, neither having to open they’re mouth before he distantly trailed after you. Getting lost in the crowd just as you had. 

Now just the three blondes were left in the boardwalk. Paul was softly bouncing on his feet unpatiently awaiting for David’s orders. Marko stood beside his brothers, fingers twitching at the sudden need to sink his fists and fangs into someone. 

The faint smell of the assholes blood filtered through their noses, a soft trail leading through the crowds. Without glancing back at the terror twins, David signaled towards the bikes. The three of them straddles their own Motorcycles, Dwayne’s would just have to stay at the boardwalk until they get back. 

They revved their engines, the loud noise drawing attention of nearby locals. Though, tonight, the people’s attention was the last thing that they were trying to capture. 

“Boys,” David spoke over the rumble of the bikes. “Let’s eat.”

A/a/n: Ok, so, if anyone of confused by the ending, the boys went out to basically kill the surfer nazis. And, Dwayne went to make sure you got home safe before joining his brothers. Also, I felt like the ending was a bit rushed, because I haven’t posted in like a week or something. But, let me tell you that this chapter has been 90% done the whole time. I was just lazy to finish the other 10%. But, let me know what you guys think ;)

@mrstargayen09

[jadeddaydream]

DI!Jill headcanons :3

Pairing: Jill Valentine x Reader

CW: Implied age gap, cursing, NSFW UNDER THE CUT, gags, strap-ons, dirty talk, rough sex, squirting, AFAB reader with GN pronouns.

Word Count: idk.

A/N: Got back into writing and I finally finished the RE3 Remake after two years, I’m in love with Jill so enjoy this warmup bleh :p

Always has this weird kink in her shoulder and for some reason she can never get it out.

When you finally get a hold of her to give her a massage, she lets out THE loudest groan when you loosen the massive knot that somehow formed in her shoulder.

If the radio's playing or you're playing music, Jill would either snap her fingers or tap her foot; sometimes if the music is that catchy, she'll do both.

LOVES BIRDS, sometimes she'll point out certain species.

"Look babe, it’s a Northern Flicker.”

Has a bad habit of letting curses slip out during the WORST times when she lets her guard down.

One time a kid fell flat on their face while you both were walking in the park and she just goes “Oh shit!” as loud as possible in front of EVERYBODYYYY.

You chose to walk alone after that.

After the events of literally everything, she picked up a lot of unhealthy habits due to the trauma that those events caused her; causing some turmoil in your relationship.

As time passes, you help her find more healthy ways to cope with her trauma along with some therapy here and there.

She CANNOT cook, like at all; the most she can do is fry eggs.

Takeout queen, loves Chinese food.

You introduce her to energy drinks and she becomes addicted to them.

Imagine Jill with a Celsius or a Monster in her hand😭

NSFW:

Such. a. tease.

Likes to tie you up so she can tease you even more and relish in the way you squirm.

Sometimes to push her buttons, you’ll challenge her strength and that’ll end with her having your hands pinned to your back and one of her hands holding your head to the floor.

Despite her age, she can FUCK; and she manages to leave you breathless and covered in sweat each time.

Has a trimmed bush.

Her dirty talk is GODLY, she’ll have you screaming while whispering things in your ear like;

“Taking me so fucking good baby,” and “So cute when you scream and cry for me.”

She’ll test your limits, trying different things and seeing how far you can go.

“Let’s see if I can go deeper.” Jill whispered with one strong hand in your hair, the other on your shoulder blade. You were gagged, dripping down her thick strap. She lifted one foot on the bed, moving her hips slowly before speeding up. Your hands were tied behind your back as you were getting pounded by your Fiancée. You cried out behind the gag, breasts rubbing against the satin sheets.

Your belly was hot, your cunt hotter and wetter then lava, upper body weak with sparks of passion erupting in your veins. Once Jill gained her rhythm; it was over. You were now being impaled by the older woman, your cervix being kissed by the tip of her thick dick. “You’re sucking me in like a whore, goddamn.” She rasped from behind you, the contact between her skin and yours making ungodly sounds.

Fuck, you could barely take it; it was too much. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you were fucked like a slut, unable to equalize the sensation. Your peak was around the corner, your eyes closing and your eyeballs rolling in the back of your head. Jill knew this too, your voice going up an octave as she kept hitting your g-spot over and over and over again. She spread your cheeks, watching as her strap could barely fit inside you. To be fair with it was 8.5 inches with considerable girth, and you were tighter and wetter than ever before.

“You’re close, you gonna be a good whore and cum all over my thick dick?” “You’re gonna be good for me and squirt all over it?” You whined, nodding your head like a manic. Nail marks were embedded in the palms of your hands, and your toes began to curl. You came, gushing and leaking all over your Fiancée’s lower half. Your body began to convulse, your pussy clenching around Jill. Your knees buckled, Jill wrapping an arm around your stomach to keep your upright as she let you ride out your orgasm. She slowed, watching carefully as you eventually went limp.

Once you did, she pulled out slowly and rid herself of the strap and you of the gag and your restraints before laying you on your back. “I got you baby, it’s okay.” “Did so good for me.” She said as she leaned over you, pressing kisses to your tear stained cheeks. You whimpered, reaching out for her. She returned the embrace, kissing your neck softly. “I’m going to run us a bath okay?” She whispered softly in your ear.

You nodded. “In the mood for Chinese?” You nodded again, before leaning in for a kiss. “Okay.” She grabbed your waist gently before leading you to the bathroom, being careful since your legs were wobbly. You both made space in the tub, Jill beginning to run water for the both of you; adding some bubbles along the way. You leaned forwards, kissing her before nuzzling your face in her neck.

“Sweet thing, are you trying to tempt me into round two?”

“Maybe.” You smiled bashfully in the crook of her neck.

[vacayisland]

I would love to see your take on Trollex or Synth I love them so much. Maybe relationship hcs with reader? Thank youu~

@!; Starfish Wishes Trollex / Reader Synth / Reader

"Summary"! Unstructured headcannons on how Trollex and Synth would be in a relationship with the reader! "Tags"! Fluff and the two being literal dorks I love them sm. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST ABOUT THEM FOR AGES PLEASE ILY SM (/p)

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69

@!; Being the lover of the Techno tribe leader is an experience like no other. I'm being serious, Trollex is a big doofus at heart and he knows it, and while he's more tame in public when he's alone with you it all comes out. And while Trollex has the biggest heart you've ever seen, it's a blessing and a curse.

Standing at the bottom of the ocean was defiantly something new for you, and something you didn't exactly expect to experience - like ever. Nevertheless, you never thought you would experience standing under the ocean in the middle of a Techno rave. Trollex always gushed about them, speaking with such energy you were sure half the time he was going to explode. Yet, whenever he spoke with you about the raves there was always a common denominator that made him pause and cause him to stand still. You both knew that it was harder said than done, seeing as you were neither a Techno troll or that you could breath under water. And yet, after months of talking (and a lot of trust building as Trollex tried to find some way to make this happened) he finally did it! "You alright Starfish?" Trollex shouted over the blasting music towards you, taking off an earphone as he did so. You nearly missed his voice, despite standing right next to him as you still felt a little uneasy to join the rest of the Techno tribe on their dance floor. "Huh?" You shouted back, taking a moment to process what he said, "Yeah! It's just- it's weird!" A chuckled followed after your words, "Standing at the bottom of the ocean, listening to unmuffled music, dancing?" Trollex beamed towards you, dropping his headphones around his neck, "Yeah! You have to get used to it, but if you ever need a break let me now. I'll get Synth to take over for a moment so we can go to a quieter area."

@!; Honestly he has the biggest heart, loves you to death and will do anything to make sure you're happy and well. Furthermore, he will do anything to protect you. Other than his tribe, you're his number one priority and he won't ever let you forget that and will remind you constantly. Mostly shows his love through spontaneous actions! Such as grabbing your waist and hugging you tightly while twirling around, making a CD that is a mash-up of all your favorite songs (or your own songs), or just deciding that today was going to be you and him day. I feel like he shows a lot of his affection through physical contact and quality: hugs, cuddles, kisses, swimming together, listening to music, spinning disks, having you next to him during raves so he can steal kisses from you. Loves to also make you flustered. It's the cheekiness instead of him.

@!; Defiantly a family guy! Expect him to be home with you, and the children, when he isn't doing his leadership gigs. Also, expect there to be kids and at least 3-4 of them, and expect him to love and spoil them to death. Those are his babies and he will not let anyone harm them and he will make sure they're raised not only right but also with everything he could possibly give them. Though is defiantly the type to understand if you want fewer or more kids, or if you need time between each egg catching. he knows it's difficult to raise kids without him there all the time. And while he tries to be there all he can, running the Techno tribe is a lot of work and he can't always be there. But you'll be damned if he misses something important for his kids. Never, ever, will this man miss something for you or his kids. First dj session? There and he's their biggest fan. First steps? There. First glitter ball game? You know he's rocking their colors. Birthdays? His schedule his cleared on that day for decades. Somehow finds a balance between life and work to keep the tribe happy and safe while also being the best dad he can be.

@!; Big prankster and goofball. The type who, when he sees your sad, cheer you up either through cuddles or a well meaning prank. He loves you to death, and I will say this time and time again because it's true, and he doesn't want to see you upset or sad. It makes him sad! So he'll cheer you up with his second best medicine, laughter and smiles! The first is obviously raving.

"Hey starfish, can you come here?" Trollex called you from the kitchen of your shared home, causing you to lean your head back on the couch. You tried looking at him, or tried to get a hint of what he was doing. It was one of those days were all you felt like doing was nothing. You just wanted to lay on the couch and completely space you, looking at the wall for any sort of inspiration that would never come. It made your nose scrunch and your head hurt to think that your boyfriend could possibly think beckoning you from your current place of hibernation was a good idea. Though seconds later, after not seeing you budge, he called again, "I promise, it'll be good!" So reluctantly, you mustered the strength to push yourself off the couch and onto your feet. Despite how heavy your body felt, you pushed through it to enter the kitchen where Trollex stood all too suspiciously; His hands were behind his back and this big grin was spread across his face. You knew he was up to something but you couldn't guess what it was. "So.. I know that you're having a bad day." He started, trying to contain his excitement. "So I decided to get you a gift!"

Did the gift happen to be something you absolutely loved, and had been ranting to Trollex about anytime it had crossed your mind? Yes. But was it also a bitch to get out because Trollex used every box and paper bag and gift wrap you two had laying around to wrap it? Also yes. You were so sure that the gift wrap and the boxes and the bag would never end, but it got you laughing and smiling at how ridiculous the whole thing was. Trollex and you literally spent 15 minutes on the kitchen floor unwrapping it all, then another 5 minutes laughing your asses off about it.

@!; Overall, he's an amazing lover and I love him so much. He will give you up, he'll never let you down, he'll never run around and desert you. He'll never make you cry, he'll never say goodbye, he'll never tell a lie and hurt you. But he will rickroll you as a prank while playing around with his turntables, giving you your own private concert. And this man will absolutely cackle at your expression like the gremlin he is and apologize later.

@!; Being Synth’s lover is getting to know the Synth behind “Synth”; which is much more complex than the outward, rave-loving and happy-go-lucky person Synth is always described and known as. And sure, while you fell in love with that version of Synth, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for him the more you got to know him, and in turn he fell harder the more he realized you accepted him and the more he got to know you.

@!; You first met Synth at a rave, which you had been invited to by Poppy as an olive branch to get to know some Techno trolls. At first, you weren’t sure why she would invite you to such a loud event, knowing you were rather sensitive about noise and iffy about meeting new people, especially people from different tribes. Yet, you also knew it would be rather rude to decline the invitation. Not only because Poppy had asked you personally, but also because it was a party for another tribe and you weren’t sure how they reacted to declined invitations. You had feared they took it horribly, like if you declined it would mean you hated them or something along those lines. So, to not make anyone upset you decided to go.

And, as you had expected earlier, you kept close to the edges of the party and watched everyone else; Having even taken a seat upon the disco floor out of tiredness of standing for too long. Yet, you didn’t want to leave encase Poppy wanted to introduce you to someone, or if it would count as rude to leave before a rave had finished. So you stayed, despite the overwhelming feeling you got from being in such a crowded and loud environment. “Yo, Bro!” Someone shouted, and you had thought it was towards someone else. Seeing as you didn’t know who the voice was coming from and you were just sitting in a corner doing nothing interesting, you had little reason to think someone was calling to you. Yet the voice shouted, this time closer, “Yo! Hello!” and then you saw someone waving their hands in the background, which caught your attention rather quickly. It was a Techno troll you had seen before around Poppy, and a few other Trolls. While you never spoke to him personally, you knew a few things about him. Such as, his name was Synth and he was quite loud. At times, you were able to hear his voice from across Trollstopia, and it always caused a slight fright in you at the sudden noise. “Bro you okay?” Synth swam over to you, hanging upside down with glow sticks in hand and some hanging around his neck. You hadn’t known at the time how much this first interaction would change your life, how much Synth would affect you. All you knew is that you wanted to run and hide. You were glad you didn’t.

@!; Synth wasn’t the most emotionally aware troll there is, while you were exactly the opposite and were way too emotionally aware for your own well being. As such, you two were able to balance each other out. Synth helps you calm down from the stress and emotional pressure of carrying everyone’s troubles on your back and you help Synth by pointing out social cues and things he was overlooking in his fun-seeking ways. You both helped each other get more in touch with your friends and with each other. Synth usually helps you calm down, not by raving with a large group of Techno trolls (though he used to before you exploded to Poppy, not wanting to hurt Synth’s feelings and she told Synth) yet by having dance parties at your pod. Dance parties meaning it was only you and Synth with your feel-good songs and you two would either dance together or do something else like scrapbooking, cooking, baking, etc. Something he tries to sit down and help you through your emotions. At first he tried giving you suggestions, but they weren’t the best and he learnt to just let you get it all out. Something you didn’t even need him to listen to, you just needed him there.

@!; Cuddling with Synth means there’s always a nightlight nearby! Poor Synth is terrified of the dark, and it really troubled him to be in a room without any sort of lighting (which is how you figured out why he always carries glow sticks with him). At first, Synth tried to be strong for you and cuddle at night… but he didn’t even last 2 minutes before he yelled out in pure terror.

“What? What?!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your place in bed as Synth was just freaking out. You were just about to doze off when he had begun to do so, and you were sure he didn’t have a nightmare because he hadn’t even fallen asleep… or closed his eyes for that matter. You could see the purple glow of his eyes through your shut ones. Though Synth didn’t seem too keen on answering you straightly, as he just blubbered out, “What what? What who? What where? And sometimes-” “Synth.” But you cut him off, cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. To which he drew back a little, his eyes widening in shock for a split second before he became a ball of nerves. He laughed, nervous laughter. And you seemed to realize instantly what was happening with how frequently his eyes darted around the room, trying to look for something. You didn’t know he was afraid of the dark! “Synth you should have told me.” You would mumble before scrambling to turn on your bedside lamp, much to Synth’s relief.

From that day on you had a nightlight in your room for Synth.

@!; Synth gave you a rave name the first 3 hours he knew you and now that’s the only thing he decides to call you. You weren’t sure why he did so and when you asked Trollex or Laguna they just said that’s how he is. Trollex even shrugged. You’re stuck with it, so get used to it because he means that rave name with the up most endearment!! <3

@!; He’s a little hard in the head. Didn’t know you liked him until you told him out right and even then he didn’t understand and said he liked you too. You gave up and Trollex had to explain to him what you meant, to which he paused and shouted to you as you walked away, “I LOVE YOU!” To which Trollex stared at him with the most bewildered look and you got absolutely terrified.

@!; Has taken you water surfing and urchin acupuncturing if you’re cool with it! And if you need he’s here to hold your hand and help you through it. Has also shot water at you with his water powers. Was his hands in the shape of little guns? Yes. did he also say “pew pew” as well? Yes. Did you then also purchase a water gun to be able to do it back? Yup. And was Synth so shocked the first time he got pew-pew’ed with water back? Mhmm. But then did it dissolve into a huge water fight anytime you guys pew-pew’ed each other with water? Of course!

@!; Other than being scared of the water and being an avid raver, Synth sometimes struggles with self esteem issues; mostly, he fears that he’ll let people down and disappoint them. Which, when you first heard him explain, you were shocked to hear! You always thought Synth didn’t really care what other people thought of him, despite caring about people and their well being. You don’t know why you thought that way, but you just did.

“So that’s why I’ve been acting so off the past few days, yo.” Synth explained to you the whole fiasco about his cheerleading side-gig, which he did more for fun than anything else. Though Synth expected a slightly more emotional reaction out of you than other trolls, he didn’t expect to see you almost crying. “Yo, are you crying?!” “No! No, I’m fine!” Yet you only sniffled. “Bro… don’t cry because then I’ll cry!”

You and Synth connected on a deeper level that day, as you explained you also tended to feel that way around people. You both decided to make a pinkie-promise to be able to tell each other anything since that day. @!; I love Synth so much, 10/10 lover. 

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[savviathan]

Gem pushes a couch into the lobby of Decked Out, directly in front of the door.

She sits down, soul lantern in hand, and coughs expectantly. She waits a moment. She coughs louder.

It feels like the stone around her sighs outwards with an edge of Tango’s rasp in its voice, and the door to Decked Out opens on its own accord.

“So, do you want to start, or should I?”

The stone constrict again beside her, tensing up like pursing its lips. It looks around, blue light burning brighter on the snow layers, then in the egg hunt room, and then settles again down by the stairs. The pistons beneath the floor hiss, and Gem feels something like the cold burn of ice touching skin.

“Then I will start.” She smiles, holding her head up high.

Somewhere, the stone cracks. Her lantern flickers frantically, flames dancing around and almost dying. Gem only shakes her head.

“I’m not very happy with you, you know.” She starts, putting her free hand on her hip. “But I’m going to be cordial. For your sake. This is a therapy session.”

Decked Out’s doors whine.

“One of many if you keep this up.”

Everything seems to still. Then, Decked Out slowly, painfully, releases the pressure in the room. Suddenly, a card is pulled from the deck:

STUMBLE

Gem laughs, hard.

As much of a hard ass Decked Out can be, it still holds Tango’s breath, and his eyes, and his heart, and his sense of humor. It still carries its creator’s vision. That sort of thing is easy to forget sometimes, between all of the ‘killing you’ thing. Speaking of that. Gem settles further into the couch.

“So. As you know, I’ve been running a lot recently. I’m on a quest to get good.” She pointedly ignores Decked Out’s snickering in Tango’s voice. “And I would like to run deeper, but I just can’t seem to find any keys. What gives? Why are you so angry with me?”

At that, Gem gets a startlingly bigger reaction than she had anticipated. It feels like there’s someone sitting on her chest, and the walls close in, and then back out, and the lanterns flicker, and the shop shuffles its contents, and, and—

“Okay, hang on!” She yells, and Decked Out freezes. Literally; she can see her breath coming out in puffs, now. “Well, that’s a lot to unpack.”

Decked Out begins again slowly, reshuffling the shop contents back to where they used to be. Cards pop up and down, and a shard reappears, and Tango’s weird dungeon lackey hood stays just where it is in the corner.

“Is it tango?” She asks tentatively. Decked out laughs back at her incredulously with Tango’s voice.

“Is it me?” And beyond the opened doors, decked out whistles. “What did I do?”

Decked out quiets.

“Nothing. Okay, I’m not following.”

Decked out’s doors groan. It seems to fiddle with the latches quietly, thinking, gears and redstone turning in its head, then clicks rapidly. The doors shut in Gem’s face.

“Hey, just because it’s hard to explain yourself in a language that—“

“Take your items or I’ll feed them to the ravagers.” It interrupts her, loudly, and the lanterns flicker by the stairs. The freezing temperatures leave the room.

“Oh.” Gem says, standing up and following it around the corner. Though, she supposes, following is probably the wrong word. It’s more like, lets it guide her to where it wants her to be. Or something. She’s not a master with communication of card games, she’s good with staggering textures in the walls, and driving a sword into Etho’s chest.

Decked Out clicks the redstone beneath her feet. She stops. It’s led her out to the front of the Deepfrost Citadel, next to Scar’s impromptu line, in the middle of the night and the freezing chill. She stares up at the imposing walls and spikes.

“What exactly am I looking for here, buddy.”

The wind whistles around her. Decked out is utterly silent, out here, unable to talk and seek in a way that matters. It knows this. Down below, mobs walk around in the snow, zombies, skeletons, Gem recalls when hoards of phantoms swooped in from the tops of the towers and attacked the few that were talking outside. It would be nice if someone could take care of that, really, and spawn proofed the area. But Tango couldn’t do that all on his own, could he?

Oh. Wait.

Gem stares back down at the spot Decked Out has taken her to, to the outsides where it cannot touch, where other creatures brush past its domain, unwanted. Gem thinks of treasure drops around the dungeon, and finding no keys, and Etho’s chuckles as he makes sure to compliment her before he runs. She thinks of getting past the gauntlet seven times over, and the comments about her appointed title, Geminislay, that tango gave her, and Decked Out has surely known.

Inside, Decked Out’s flames brighten, welcoming her back inside but never past level one.

“You don’t want me to have keys because you want me out here, don’t you?”

And the air around her, whistles, sings. The lantern she’s still holding, the one she’d brought for the therapy session, dances around in the air as it whips past. Gem sighs.

“Come with me.”

She steps inside, and feels the flames brighten as she passes, and the stone press outwards as to give her more room, and the room goes cold again as she makes it to the top of the stairs. She sits back down on the couch in the lobby, closes her eyes, and releases a breath.

“It’s my turn again.” She begins, and Decked Out is quiet.

“I recognize your feelings. I understand what you mean. I want you to know that, firstly.” She pauses for a moment. “But I am not Tango. I am not a fool.”

Decked Out laughs, again, boisterous and knowing.

“But I know that if I want to play, this relationship must go two ways, healthily. And I definitely want to play.” Decked Out hums at that, a droning sound, but it does not move. Just thinks.

“So I will protect you, where you cannot. I will be your gargoyle.” She giggles.

The citadel is a castle, after all.

“But I would like some keys. And I would like them fairly, nothing extra.” She pauses. “And also, it would be really funny if you messed with Impulse. Make him get a little tilted.”

The flames brighten. The walls seem to thrum with excitement, and a smile.

“So we’ve come to an agreement?” Gem stands and sticks her hand out.

Decked Out rushes cold hair to her fingertips. Gem smiles brightly.

“Then Geminislay joins the dungeon!”

Decked Out’s door nearly breaks itself trying to fly open.

And somewhere deep below, in Decked Out’s redstone guts, the dungeon master shakes his head fondly.

…

[Author’s Note:] I want to also give huge credit to @slashmagpie, whose amazing idea it was that Gem was the gargoyle of Decked Out. He also let me borrow this silly concept of a fic idea from him and write it. Thanks magpie!!

[bunfloras]

i will NEVER be able to shut up about phil’s acting during rp. half of the time it’s subtle, and the other half? his voice cracking when he talks to the eggs, looking down and smiling when he talks with tallulah about how she’s changed. his whole body, his posture—hell, the way he articulates certain words. phil has been putting his whole heart into his roleplay as of late, and i think tonight’s stream and the consequences of chayanne and tallulah’s fight really hammered that home.

you can hear the smile in his voice, you can feel the fondness as though he’s literally talking to a loved one when he comforts her, no matter how exasperated he is. you can tell when his acting is coming from some place deep, and when he really truly cares. half of the shit he says is so clearly something he genuinely means.

this is the same man who used to put down his roleplay abilities, who’s used to being the side character that others use to progress their stories. phil is finally getting the chance to shine, and by god is he shining. there are so many powerful quotes to take away from tonight

“you’re just a kid, but you’re strong. because you’re my kid.”

“you’ve had too much put on your shoulders. and you’re right, it’s not fair.”

“just know that everything you’ve done, up until this point—i am so fucking proud of you.”

“i will always be in your corner. i don’t care what anyone else says.”

phil can act. he’s capable of creating the most realistic, heart-wrenching, raw emotion. he just needed a chance to do it

[accio-victuuri]

5/16/24 LRLG post + interpretations ❤️💛💚

so it’s not enough that we’ve been struggling for the past days, they really put meaning to the saying of “when it rains it pours”. at least they let people sleep and then released this in the morning. it is an unusual posting time cause it’s usually evening or even late like 1:00 AM but not this early.

original link from the rumor house is here. i will omit some parts and just explain what happens but i tried to preserve the integrity of the post. all of this is fake. if i missed some cpn related to this, feel free to comment or just reblog and add on. enjoy ^^

XZ: "Do I have to buy the flowers myself? I can't spend hundreds of dollars."

WYB: “You don’t need to buy it and use it at home. The bottle is also pretty.”

XZ: 🙄

WYB: “Your skills are really top-notch now.”

XZ: "Why don't you try to be more yin and yang?"

WYB: "Well done. Well done."

XZ: “Don’t let me go if you don’t have any symptoms”

WYB: "You know if I have a fart or not, I'm so awesome."

XZ: "gun"

WYB: 😘

XZ: "There is also gas in the mouth"

WYB: 🙄

XZ: "Hey, your skills are also top-notch."

WYB: “I can’t compare to you, but practice makes perfect”

XZ: “It’s boring.

WYB: “Come and play”

XZ: "If you don't want to play, you won't come from xx"

👧: "Looking for me, I won't delay the fun of you two"

WYB: "Then shall we leave?"

👧: “I also know that practice makes perfect”

WYB: “Excuse me”

XZ: "Whose number should I use?"

WYB: "I'll log in for you

Yibo really be buying useless stuff again. lol. I can only imagine him scrolling through shopping apps in between takes and ordering everything. Thank you ZZ for being the voice of reason. LOL. and them complementing each other’s skills in gaming, even the log-in, we think is for the game. && how they are trolling each other talking about gas/fart, it’s so them 😂😂😂😂

the part about the kiss emoji makes us think that wyb kissed xz but then xz had to comment like that lol and be a gremlin 😂😂😂

i saw one guess that the bottle/vase he is talking about where you can put flowers may be a souvenir from abroad that wyb gave him

WYB: XZ believes in Buddhism and doesn’t believe in anything.”

XZ: “Watch me assist”

WYB: "You are not playing support role."

XZ: "Okay, I won't go even if you call me daddy."

WYB: “Don’t help, you still have to help”

No but seriously i will pay good money to watch them livestream a game lol. to those who are not familiar of why XZ was saying “call me daddy”, it’s a common quip among people. kinda like saying “im your father” cause i’m helping you and more superior than you— nothing kinky okay?

WYB: “Where did the cat come from?”

WYB: "Can I not hear it when it’s meowing at me? "

WYB: "What to record"

WYB: “So where did the cat come from?”

WYB: “Questioning you on behalf of 🌰🌰”

WYB: “Oh, great shooting”

people are thinking it’s this chonky cat that xz got attached to

and all of us are cackling at how wyb is “asking for 🌰🌰” because his dad is being a traitor and looking at other cats! 😤😤😤 yibo is so loyal to their daughter lol

WYB : super cold, i’ll eat a fried egg for you in awhile

WYB: look closely, i’m going to eat one for you (fried egg = sun that just appeared ☀️)

WYB: i ate it too early, it’s not fully cooked yet

WYB: sure, i’ll wait for you to eat a cooked one

i swear their conversations don’t make sense unless you have some background. cpfs are saying here that it means, wyb gave xz a fried egg ☀️ and then xz ate a cooked egg, the way he did it in that milan vlog

and like, if we are talking about a literal egg, that was featured as well in the Milan vlog 🍳 so could that be a bit for bobo? a literal easter egg? lol.

next part is bobo asking xz why doesn’t it look the same to him and how xz hasn’t responded to the group chat. and how he will call him later 📲

them having a gc is not even a secret but just 🥹🥹 that must be one hell of a group chat to be in.

WYB: “How was the restaurant you ate at last time? Let's go there when Zhan ge comes."

🧔‍♂️: "Their ribs are amazing, but the chops are not as good as they should be. Why don't we order one for you tonight and try it?"

i won’t include this part anymore but it’s a conversation between yibo and members of his staff about food and what to eat. i love how wyb is always thinking about xz when he sees something that is good to eat. feeding xz is really his love language. i’m cackling how they are conscious about the carbs to eat. planning what and where to eat with your loved one seems so simple but really special too. there were talks about fruits, which we know what xz is fond of eating in CQL BTS. ( sorry for the screenshot lol xiao zhan i love youuuu. you have no bad angle! )

there was also a part that wyb was telling them to buy blueberries and the staff is like: "Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll give you whatever you want" but yibo was all "Let's see what he wants to eat" 🥹🥹🥹 it all depends on XZ.

and then this scene in the wedgwood ad. which is most likely a coincidence. but still 👀

WYB: “Look at this big pot”

XZ: Saw it

WYB: "I won't let you try the dishes in advance."

XZ: "If you want to eat, just say so and don't take the blame."

👧: Boss Xiao, we have already eaten it.”

XZ: "Grateful and thankful"

WYB: "Why are you so happy?"

XZ: You guys are going to have another meal in two days.

WYB: ☺️☺️🤭☺️🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍

XZ: "Eat quickly and fight again when you get back."

WYB: “🫡Received”

XZ: "Idiot, hang up, bye"

WYB: "Bye"

with this fake rumor i feel so soft cause having a meal together is something they look forward to. i especially loved this comment from a cpf which u think perfectly explain why this romantic: But I especially understand how dad feels. . . When you are in a long-distance relationship, if you already have a date for your next meeting, you will really feel like you don’t want to taste the delicious food you want to eat with you before meeting! Just like "I want to share the surprise of the first bite with you" is the real thing. I only want to taste one-fifth of the taste. I want to wrap this little bit of deliciousness with the anticipation of seeing you soon. I want to see you soon. I have been stuffed to the brim these last few days, so that the day I see you I will explode with happiness!” 🥹🥹🥹

next part is wyb talking to a staff about eating and then this one, yibo! give your assistant a vacation! and well the boss is not taking a vacation too sooooo….

👧: “When can I take a vacation?”

WYB: "Anytime, if you have anything to do, just take a break."

👧: “Want to take a big vacation”

WYB: “It’s early then”

👧: “This year’s Qingming Festival and May Day are all in vain”

WYB: "Have arrangements been made for May Day?"

and the final part of the rumor contribution:

WYB: "Where"

WYB: “Okay, be safe.”

WYB: "I don't have time to ask you to keep the fake house.

WYB: "good"

-END

[kittyball23]

Hey, Kittyball23, I was hoping for the fanfiction of the birth of the Broppy baby, whenever you're ready to publish it.

Ready now!

Baby (a Trolls fanfic)

“Ugh, how long is this gonna take?”

Clay looked at Viva as though she had grown a second head. “How long?” he asked. “Rhonda’s parked just outside the clearing. We’re literally two seconds away from reaching it!”

“Yeah!” John Dory piped up. “Hold your horses there, girlie, we’ll get to camping soon enough!”

“No, not that,” Viva clarified. “I mean, how long until the baby?!” she said, tossing the pleading eyes at her younger sister, and glancing longingly up into her bright pink hair, where she and Branch’s unborn egg was still safely incubated.

Poppy giggled. “Viva, it’s not long now! It’s any day!”

“I know,” she moaned, “but, heck, how do you know when it’s gonna happen?”

“We don’t,” Branch explained. “But Dr. Moonbloom said when it’s time, we’ll know. Especially once Poppy says - “

“The baby is coming!!”

“Exactly!”

“No, Branch!” Poppy cried, grabbing onto his arm. “The baby IS coming! It’s coming, like, NOW!”

The blue troll froze. “Now? Like now, NOW?!”

Poppy responded only with situating herself at the nearest mushroom that could support her weight and bracing.

It was at this point that everybody else began to react.

Viva was absolutely bursting at the seams. “OmigoshomigoshomiGOSH!!!” she gushed, over and over, bouncing around in an uncontrolled ball of energy.

Floyd offered reassurance. “Everything will be alright, Poppy, just remember to breathe.”

“Floyd’s right! Just stay calm and breathe, Poppy, BREATHE!” Branch said, although he himself was not as calm in his tone of voice, and sounded more like he was ready to have a heart attack. Smacking a leaf mask onto his face he approached Poppy with frantically waving arms. “Just remember your training!”

“Training?” John Dory blurted out next to him. “What training? We don’t have any training!”

“NOT YOU, man!” Clay cried. “He’s talking about Poppy!”

But the Pop Queen brushed them all off. “Guys, we don’t need any training. All I literally have to do is just put out my arms” - she put them out - “and get ready to hug!” she demonstrated, beaming.

“Luck favors the prepared!” Branch countered.

“I think you mean the crazy-prepared,” Bruce amended, “but, I have to agree with Branch on this one. It’s better to take at least some precautions.” With that, the experienced father began to shout out orders. “All right, you get some towels,” he said, motioning to Clay, “and you get some hot water,” he said, motioning to Floyd. “And - “

“What can I do?” John Dory asked, grinning hopefully.

Bruce’s eyes widened, having not exactly thought of a task for their oldest brother - aside from standing out of the way. “Err…”

“Come on, I’ve got tons of supplies that could be helpful! Look!” He reached into his green hair and pulled out a frying pan. “Ah, see? This will work, right?”

“Yes,” Bruce said sarcastically. “And I know just how…” He snatched it from his hands, and whacked JD upside the head!

“OUCH!” the Troll whined. “What was that for?”

“Does it look like we’re frying chicken?! Or scrambling eggs?” “WHATT’YOU MEAN THE EGG IS SCRAMBLED??”

Bruce whirled around at the sound of his frantic younger brother’s voice. His younger brother, whose eye was twitching, and was just about on the edge of a nervous breakdown!

“WHOA Branch, chill, I wasn’t talking about you guys’ egg!” Bruce attempted to clarify. “Everything is going splendid. Right, Poppy?” he called out to his sister-in-law.

“I’ll say it has,” Poppy giggled, “Jr.’s been enjoying the whole show!”

“See, Branch?” Bruce said to him. “There’s nothing to worry abou - “

“Jr.?” Branch questioned, interrupting.

“Jr.?” Clay and Floyd echoed, having just returned with the items that they were sent to get.

Slowly, all five brothers glanced over towards Poppy’s direction -

- and their breaths were taken away at the sight that met them.

Because right there - cradled in her arms and with her Auntie Viva gushing over them - was the baby, having hatched as the frantic new father was flustering about.

OUR baby, Branch reminded himself as he met Poppy’s sparkling fuschia gaze with calm, yet emotional, teary eyes.

“Poppy…” he whispered, touched, heart so full of love that no other feeling was possible to be occupying his emotions.

Bruce recognized this moment - having felt it so many times before himself, when Brandy had had their children - and ushered their brothers away.

“All right, come on, guys,” he said, “it’s time to give them some privacy.”

“But the baby!” John Dory exclaimed, clearly wanting to meet his niece or nephew.

“I’m sure we’ll have our chance,” Floyd said optimistically, patting him on the back.

“Well… okay,” JD said, pouting in a way that made him not at all look like the eldest of their bunch, but ultimately complying.

“And that goes for you, too, Viva,” Clay said with a meaningful look.

“Aw…” She pouted, but knew he was right, and followed him. Viva took one last peek over her shoulder before heading off. “Kinda makes me wanna have one of my own,” she said, casting a look heavy with implication at him.

Clay blushed. “O-oh! Well, um, I, um… maybe it will happen one day,” he replied.

She snuggled beside him and grinned. “That would be great.”

And as they trekked off, it was only Branch and Poppy left to themselves.

“Come on,” Poppy said, gesturing to him from where he was still a distance away. “She wants to meet you.”

“It’s a girl?” he asked, mystified.

Poppy nodded, and indeed, Branch could see the little lashes on her eyes and the adorable little smile that looked so much like her mother’s that it took his breath away. He, however, could see his own features on the child as well, indicative with her indigo hair, and bluish skintone. Slowly, he moved forward, each step becoming lighter and more eager than the next, until finally he was next to them.

He looked down at the baby.

The baby looked up at him.

Both smiled at each other.

“She’s… gorgeous,” he finally said.

The baby sweetly giggled in response.

He reached out, ready to caress her, but paused. “Can I… touch her?”

Poppy gave him a baffled look. “Can you? You’re the father! Of course you can!”

She transferred her to Branch’s awaiting arms, the baby giggling again.

“Daddy’s silly, isn’t he?” Poppy said, smirking.

Branch would’ve thought of a comeback, but he was completely enraptured by the small child he was holding. The most wonderful representation of their love for one another, and the greatest gift she had given him; his entire being seemed to glow with pride and love, and a warm feeling filled every corner of him.

"She's wonderful, isn't she?" Poppy sighed, equally as fascinated.

"Yeah..." he replied, and then spoke to the baby. "It's great to finally meet you... um..." Branch faltered, realizing that he didn't even know exactly what to call her!

"Oh, right, we need a name!" Poppy stated excitedly. She hummed in thought for a second, and then came up with a suggestion. "How about... Baby Branch?"

"Uh, she's a girl."

"I know, I'm kidding," she giggled. "It's just, she wouldn't even be this cute if it weren't for you, right?"

Branch chuckled. "I beg to differ," he said, nudging her playfully, in a way that let her know that she was also a contributor to the baby's adorableness. But when he tried to think of a name that would be unique and suitable, his mind was drawing a blank.

Poppy could see this, and she asked, “What was your grandma’s name?”

“Rosiepuff,” he answered.

“How about that?” she suggested.

“Really?”

“It’s nice, don’t you think? And I like it.”

It is. But Branch had another idea. “How about just Rosie?” It was an homage to his grandmother, and also allowed their baby to have her own distinction.

“Rosie,” Poppy repeated, testing it out, and liking it very much. She wasn’t the only one who liked it. The baby squirmed and smiled in response.

“I think that would work,” she agreed, first leaning in to peck little Rosie on her forehead, and then sharing a kiss with Branch. He wrapped an arm around Poppy’s shoulder and cuddled the baby close to them with the other, fully content with the decision and the new life produced.

“Can we come see now?”

The new parents looked up to find Viva and the rest of the bros, huddled together some paces away, seeming all-too-ready to greet the newborn.

They laughed. “Yes, you can,” Branch assured, feeling much more relaxed than he did before.

Viva beamed. “YAY!” She whizzed over and was the first to reach her sister’s side. “AWW, sis! I’m so happy for you!” Then she peered down at the baby and all but died from the sheer overload of delight. "Oh my gosh, helloooOOOO!" she gushed, in just about the same way she did when first meeting Poppy and Branch on their journey to Mount Rageous. "My name's Viva! Or, in your case, AUNTIE Viva!"

"Didn't you already introduce yourself, V?" Poppy giggled.

"It doesn't hurt to do it again!" Viva exclaimed, and then grabbed onto Clay's arm. "Oh, Clay, isn't she the most precious little thing you've seen?!"

Clay sucked in a breath, looking like he was trying to keep himself in control. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry… I promised myself I wouldn’t cry," he mumbled, looking like he was very much on the verge of bursting into joyous tears.

Next to him, Floyd's lip trembled and his eyes misted over. "I didn't," he admitted, and then promptly broke into a sob.

"On behalf of all of us, Branch, congratulations," Bruce said, smiling proudly at his brother. "From one dad to another, I think you're gonna be a great father." And then, to Rosie he said, "And I have a feeling you're gonna have plenty of playdates with my kiddos."

John Dory jumped in at this. "Yeah! And just wait till you meet your cousin Rhonda!"

Bruce looked at him bewilderedly. “Cousin?”

JD rolled his eyes. “DUH! That’s how cousins work, right? Children of siblings? Am I right?” He extended his arms out like it was so obvious.

“But… But Rhonda’s not actually your child!” Bruce pointed out.

JD sighed. “Still going on about that? Sheesh.” Sure his daughter might be a 3-foot-long caterbus and not a little trolling, but she was still his daughter!

“Anyway,” Bruce said, not wanting to touch on the subject any longer and drawing his attention to the Trolls of the hour, “Congrats!”

Branch smiled, grateful for all his brothers sincerity in their praise. "Thanks, guys… really. You're all gonna be great uncles."

"Or in John Dory's case, a great-great uncle," Clay joked.

John Dory beamed, not quite getting it. "Thanks, bro!"

"He meant it cuz you're old," Bruce said, smirking mischievously.

JD scoffed. "HEY!"

But his mood dissolved when Rosie smiled up at him, amused by her eldest uncle. "Awww, look at you, girlie. You got your mom and pop all over ya! And if you don't believe me... hooo! Have I got some Bitty B photographs for YOU to see!"

Branch gasped and shot him a murderous look. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, I would," John Dory teased, "but right after this!" And then he hugged Branch tightly, very close to smothering him under the weight of his affection.

"John Dory!" Branch muffled, but found it to be a useless effort trying to worm his way out of the hug, with the way that the other bros were surrounding him in a huge embrace as well! His protests were ignored, especially when Poppy encouraged the matter by calling out "HUG TIME, EVERYONE!" Baby Rosie was carefully cuddled in the midst of it all, everyone beyond elated at the prospect of their expanded family.

And what else could Branch do in that moment? Well, nothing except relishing in that feeling of being surrounded by the ones he loved and who loved him.

That’s what.

[huevobuevo]

ive fuckingggg HAD IT . i am going to talk about gegg qsmp because idk why but charlie slimecicle made one of the best representations of age regression ive seen in media and i am NOT joking.

so i dont rlly post alot about the qsmp on my blog, thus i wouldn't be surprised if this post goes unnoticed or ignored by a vast majority of my friends & followers. for those of you who ARE reading this with no prior experience with the QSMP lemme just quickly summarize some much needed background knowledge.

(Quackity Voice) The QSMP Is The Worlds First Multi-lingual Minecraft Server; it hosts a wide variety of twitch streamers who speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French. the beginning plotline of the server (which is where Gegg came into existence) follows the various players as they are grouped into pairs to care for a dragon egg. The main ones that will be talked about today are Tilin, Quackity's egg, and Juanaflippa, Slimecicle & ElMariana's egg. The eggs are, of course, played by anonymous admins, who have given these eggs their own unique personalitys despite only communicating through signs and emotes. The players have quickly imprinted on their respective eggs, as expected, and have gone on to view these eggs as their own children. The rules were simple - each egg had two lives and two lives ONLY. each day the eggs have tasks for the streamers to complete ON STREAM or else the egg could die of starvation & neglect (points at Trump, Maximus & DanTDM's egg).

i will be referring to Slimecicles character in the QSMP as Charlie or Slime for better coherency. from now on i will be referring to the characters, not the streamers.

Slimecicle and Mariana were not the best parents to Juanaflippa, but it was clear that they truly and deeply cared for their daughter. They supported her transition and, especially in Slimes case, did everything they could to make sure their daughter was safe. Juanaflippa had lost her second life due to an accident, which caused Slime to loose his shit and go on a murderous rampage to try and get the literal Minecraft Jesus Christ of Nazareth to come back and revive his daughter (she came back after a court case. long story.)

Basically Juanaflippa was loved, and she loved her parents back- but there was someone else she cared for the most in the whole wide world

Tilin, who Slime offered to take care of once her father had to log off game. There was another accident, and Tilin was caught in the crossfire between Charlie and a few mobs at night. She was on her second life, meaning that Charlie had officially ended his daughters best friend right infront of her eyes. Distraught and ashamed, Charlie ran off into self-isolation and left Juanaflippa in the care of Mariana and their friend Roier. During his "Eggxile" while he was trying to find a way to bring back Tilin, Charlie learnt that Mariana killed Juanaflippa AGAIN. Instead of going on another tirade Charlie just lost it.

He's now carrying the deaths of two children on his mind, isolating himself from what little friends he had on the main island. During his initial stay on the island there were only English and Spanish players, but when the French and Brazilian players arrived he still spent a majority of his time in isolation. Charlie wasn't apart of a good chunk of the main island lore for a long, long time, and pretty soon it began to feel like he was completely, and utterly, alone. He attended a wedding and a few parties, but it was visible how outcasted he was from all the new events and connections. He had regular breakdowns and pretty soon began to believe that Juanaflippa wasn't dead, she was just... somewhere else. He was gonna get her back. He did it once, he'll do it again. Fuck, he couldn't even bring himself to attend her own funeral, and even when he was allowed one final goodbye with his dead daughter Charlie still refused to accept the fact that Juanaflippa was never gonna come back home. He built a campfire on the beach of his Eggxile house with three chairs- one for him, one for his wife (who hadn't logged on in months), and one for Flippa.

TL;DR q!slime is going the fuck through it.

Later on Quackity decided to get Charlie in on a plan to try and steal from other peoples houses. They both lost their families, so it seemed only fair to Quackity that they ruin other people's lives as well. Basically Charlie had to pretend to be Quackity's NEW egg so that he can get close with the other eggs and fuck shit up.

Charlie liked it. Charlie... REALLY liked it, actually. His egg name was Gegg, and without knowing it he began to age regress.

Im calling Gegg a form of Age Regression because not only is Charlie mentally AND physically becoming a child, but through Gegg Charlie is allowed the freedom to escape his grief and explore what it means to be a "child" who was loved unconditionally. On the last Gegg stream Slime referred to the little goopy guy as something that lives inside of him. Gegg takes over him and he just looses himself in the act. He's not just playing a character called Gegg, he IS Gegg.

In the very first stream as Gegg he expressed his desire to learn what having a family was like- a common reason most people have for regressing. When "regressed" to this state Charlie/Gegg is constantly acting as a young child and actually enjoys it! He LOVED being Gegg! Even if it got too far in the end, Gegg was allowed to be open about his wants & emotions. Charlie was pushed back into the lives of the other players and fully reconnected with several people again for the first time since his self-imposed isolation. He gained new friends, too, once Gegg was introduced to the Brazilian and French players.

In turn the players never made any effort to expose Charlie's regression. while at the beginning there was some distrust & confusion over Charlie's sudden egg act it never went farther then a few subtle jokes at Geggs "true" identity (commenting on his backflips, which is something Charlie was known for). Aside from Wilbur, everybody treated Gegg as any other egg-child. He was cared for, his tasks would be completed on occasion, and the French+Brazilian players ESPECIALLY loved him! They supported Charlie's regression since at this point they began to realize how much shit he has been through since the deaths of Tilin and Flippa. Not only that, but the eggs as well played along with Gegg's coping mechanism; Leonarda (FoolishGamers + Vegetta777's egg) was one of the first to try and adopt Gegg as their own baby, while Chayanne (Philza+MissaSinfonia's egg) & Tallulah (Wilbur Soot's egg) acted as his "Geggsiblings" (even though Tallulah sorta got a bit rude to him during their second encounter, im guessing due to a new admin who wasn't around during Tallulah & Gegg's first interaction),

Infact, one of the best scenes of the Gegg Arc was during an interaction between Gegg & Bobby. Bobby was Roier & JaidenAnimation's egg, and he was also close to Juanaflippa & Tilin. The two kids talked through signs, where Bobby confessed that he held a grudge against Slime for what he did. Gegg said that he had every right to be upset, the poor boy had lost two of his closest friends after all. But then Bobby did something that shocked Charlie- he forgave him. he told Gegg to tell that "green guy" that he shouldn't be hard on himself anymore, both of them needed to move on already. Not only was Bobby a child, but he was one of the main eggs Quackity wanted Gegg to kill off first. Bobby was the reason why Gegg existed, the reason why Charlie was given the chance to heal from his trauma, and now he is telling Charlie to his face that its ok to forgive himself for the deaths of Tilin and Flippa.

Bobby knows who Gegg is, everybody does, which is why they treat Gegg with the same amount of love that every other egg gets.

Age Regression has frequently been misunderstood, and very rarely does it get the proper representation that it deserves. It is a very "taboo" form of coping, which is unfortunate due to how common it actually is. Most people feel uncomfortable with the image of grown adults acting as toddlers in diapers, and lump it together with the whole Age Play/DDLG ordeal- yet they fail to take into account what age regressors are ACTUALLY like. while it is something that just about anyone can do, the type of regression I will be talking about stems from people who seek refuge from traumatic events usually in their childhood. It can be voluntary or involuntary, and is a way for people to explore & reevaluate what it means to be a child. it is just that- a trauma response, one that im sure many of you participate in but are too scared to discuss it due to the stigma around it. Children who have experienced abuse regress, Teenagers who struggle with mental health regress, Adults with severe PTSD regress, and yet it is such a misunderstood part of the healing process that is practically unaccounted for in media. There is little to nothing on age regression representation that delivers it in a respectful, honest manner, due to this stigma, which only serves to push it further into the shadows of mental health discourse.

So to see age regression be used on a fucking minecraft server of all places in such a healthy light is so refreshing to see. While ironic at first, Charlie showcased age regression as something that shouldn't be shunned. It actively aided him through a dark period in his life and showed that he deserves a second chance. After Gegg canonically "died" Charlie returned to the island for his birthday and was finally ready to move on from Flippa & Tilins death (and then, yakno, the whole Codeflippa Arc happened)

TL;DR #2 Charlie Slimecicle's Character In The QSMP Age Regresses As A Way To Cope From The Deaths Of Two Eggs & Oh My God It Was Actually Really Fucking Emotional

[jakeshands]

teeth

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

genre: thriller (?), strangers to lovers

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

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

word count: 18.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hear what?”

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

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

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

“Down by the lake,” Sakura responds.

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

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

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

“I’ll be okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sumin smiles. “Girls help girls.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

“I’m writing lyrics,” Yunjin replies.

“With your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

Park Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going, Jaeho?”

“We need some privacy.”

Your heart races. “Oh. Why?”

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

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

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

“You like me back, don’t you?”

“Oh,” you feel taken aback.

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

“What way do I look at you, Jaeho?”

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

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

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

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

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

You cry out. “Jaeho --”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want me to?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I hated that class,” Sunghoon grumbles.

You giggle and Sunghoon’s eyes light up.

—-

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

Your heart flutters.

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

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

“Will you hear him out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Likewise. Do you have my number?”

Seriously. Sunghoon never fails to surprise you.

“No.”

“Do you want my number?”

You pull out your phone in lieu of a response.

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

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

You hate how his words warm you.

“See you around, Sunghoon.”

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“He’s a murderer, Y/N.”

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

“Y/N…” Yunjin sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” Jay says.

It’s awkward as you scan their items.

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

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

“Why are you involving yourself with Sunghoon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head.

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

“Sure,” you hand Heeseung the change.

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

“I guess that’s understandable.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaeho?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fucking bitch --”

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

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

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

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

It only rings once.

“Y/N?”

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

“Y/N? Where are you?”

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

“Y/N. Where are you?”

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

“Y/N --”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Behind you.”

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

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

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

“No -- Jaeho -- I --”

“Y/N. Move away.”

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

“Sunghoon?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, man?” Jaeho exclaims.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head.

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

“Is L/N Y/N here today?”

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

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

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

“L/N Y/N?” One of the policemen asks.

You raise your head. “That’s me.”

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

You nod your head.

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

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

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

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

“His phone?” You question.

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

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

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

“That’s a private matter.”

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

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

“Can I be frank, Y/N?”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did call him.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No problem. Can I go?”

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

“They got you too, huh?”

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

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

You scowl. “Fuck you, Sunghoon.”

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what if I do?”

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

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

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

You scowl at Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much time do you have?”

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

You scowl. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon laughs and sips his drink. “So?”

“Fine. How did you know where I was?”

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

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

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

“Why have you been stalking me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You killed Taeyong, too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which is?”

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

“You don’t know me, Sunghoon.”

“Do I have to know you to love you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeonjun,” you smile back. “You too.”

“You look good tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still nothing.

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

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

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

“Why not?” You challenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon kisses you again. He’s addicting.

“Be mine. Be my girlfriend, Y/N.”

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

“If you want to, then I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you feeling hungry, Y/N?”

“A bit. What did you pack?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll make you love it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can only agree.

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All bark no bite,” Minjeong taunts.

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

“Yeonjun, hi.”

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

“Yeonjun, what the fuck --”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you telling the truth, Y/N?”

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

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

“Okay,” you murmur, “be safe?”

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

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

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

“Of course.”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your total is three dollars.”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

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

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

“Y/N?” Minjeong asks softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile at Minjeong. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widen. “Oh, Y/N.”

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

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

You shrug. “Yeonjun had it coming.”

“Y/N, what the fuck --”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the body?” Jay asks.

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

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

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

“Hey. Killed Minjeong, huh?”

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A cat?” Sunghoon asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three weeks,” you respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For me?” You whisper back.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” you smile.

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

[gz-missfit]

So with Phil ending stream and that event dying down I wanna talk about him.

And especially with how good of a decision it was from Cellbit to make him a fellow head of ther order.

Let me explain

So I'm gonna try and string this along but the basis I'm building on is that Phil is a center. Not just figuratively but also literally! Remember before the Favela and Spawn become the meeting places? Yeah his home was the point people would meet at, his doors were always open and his waystone was the one ingrained in people's muscle memory when a meeting or communal location was mentioned.

But Phil's also been a communicative center, he's a loner usually, mostly getting dragged along by tubbo or fit for some events.

But he's reliable! And people know this about him. They hear how a single father of 2 has carried the life of these 2 kids in his own, they've heard how Tallulah and Chayanne are the best behaved eggs due to him, they see him casual help people out etc. Phil's known for kindness and help when needed but people who don't know him don't realize there's so much more to him! Fit and Tubbo for example are the first 2 who are aware of this. Fit trusting Phil with literally everything because he knows how capable he is and Tubbo knowing Phil's capabilities in a way where he respects him heavily. And I don't even need to mention how Etoiles is aware of Phil's combat abilities.

Now why did I say that he was the perfect addition as a head of the order? Because he proved today that he is behind everything the order is about. He is a much needed cog in its machine, he's not a head investigator or strategist but he's someone they need to allow this.

Baghera wanted to investigate? Phil stopped trying to look around, focused on helping her clear mobs, gave her all his paper and kept an eye on her while calling to her to make sure she could collect evident when her inventory got filled. He's ready to put his own curiosity and knowledge aside to let others thrive.

Pierre needed a fighter when mobs swarmed him? Phil stood between him and the mobs, being a calm voice amongst panic, standing in Etoiles footsteps as protector and filling them well.

Roier wanted to stay and risk his life because he wanted more information? Phil will stay too, he's not leaving anyone behind even if it could cost his own life and he'd do it again.

Forever is acting weird and trying to brush worries off? Then Phil will worry even more and make sure he knows that Phil's someone who will be there whenever he's needed.

There's so many moments like this, Phil putting himself aside to let others thrive, becoming a support fighter for Etoiles, a teacher for tallulah, an investigator for Cellbit.

He's someone that island needs without them realizing it because he's a quiet constant hum but important! Like a humming of well working machines in a busy factory. Or the humming of bees in a thriving garden full of animals. He's quiet and not always noticeable but he's proof that things are working and okay, the backbone of it.

This is why this trust of Cellbit in him to call him a head of the order is so important for me, and especially Phil promising loyalty and trust to Cellbit cause it may sound basic but those who don't know Phil don't know how much Phil's loyalty truly means. How much his promise of it is an honor to someone because Phil's whole moral compass and trust is based on proof. If you can proof to Phil you're capable and put your money where your mouth is then he'll go through fire for you, and he's promised that to Cellbit, knowing fully well it's a promise he'll keep.

Phil's factual and logical, he's a grounding force when needed and someone who will fit himself into a role that needs to be filled. He's a support, a warrior, a investigator, a distraction etc. He's not focused on his own goals even if it hurts him to put those aside, if he sees potential in supporting or letting someone lead he'll do just that. He's so fucking observant and it's such an important trait not many islanders have to the same level he does. He watches with protective eyes and sees things most people don't. Ironically enough you can see this in his photographs a lot! He's a watcher an observer and acts based on what he sees.

Basically today, that little bit where they went into the new office where forever was taken, was proof of what Phil is needed for. He's not required, he knows that much, but he's important for the community of that island. He's important for letting others thrive. He's what the head of the order is, what they represent. Trust in eachother and letting people thrive in what they're good at while helping them in any way he can.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One

TW: nsfw, exhibitionism, violence, blood and gore and guns, trauma, death

“Okay,” Tom says, “you need eggs, milk, blueberries, flour. You writing this down, baby?” 

“Um, no, hold on. You’re distracting me.” You grab your little pink nurse notepad and a pen. 

“Distracting you?” 

“It’s not my fault you sound hot talking about pancake recipes.” You flush at your own boldness, at the heavy chuckle he gives you. 

“Naughty girl, I’m in a diner, you know.” 

“Oh, sorry. Crowded?” 

“Does this mean you’re ready for round two?” He muses. 

“Wouldn’t it be round, like, 6?” You tease, catching yourself literally twirling your hair and kicking your feet for Tom Ludlow, pen poised for instruction. 

“You just wait til I get my hands on that sweet little—hey, Jordan, what’s up? Yeah, no problem—sorry, old coworkers.” 

You cover your mouth to muffle the raucous giggle—now, you scold yourself, can’t turn all hyper feminine and cute just because of Tom. “Okay, and the pancakes?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, pancakes. Although, now I’m hungry for something else...” 

“Indecent,” you gasp, “I’m just trying to get a pancake recipe, and here you are being a scoundrel.” 

“If I was a scoundrel, I’d take the rest of the day off and come lodge myself in that chokehold of a pussy.” He has to be quiet to avoid the nearby patrons hearing him, but that low, hushed voice travels through the phone, into your ear canal, through your brain, down your body, and straight into your cunt. 

You give a little frustrated grumble and put your head in your arms, hiding as if he’s right beside you and can feel the heat of your skin and the tremble of your body. 

“She can give it, but she just can’t take it,” he tsks, and you hear that shit eating grin. 

“Can too,” you protest, whiny. 

“We’re not talking about my cock, baby.” 

Jesus fucking Christ, okay okay. He wins. He gets the dirty talk crown. You’d say that’s the only thing his mouth is good for, but you’d be very, very wrong. 

“Pancakes?” You try pathetically. 

Phone sex. It’s usually awkward, tense, strange. Tom Ludlow makes it seamless, and it’s one of his favorite things, as you’ve come to learn. “Mmm. Don’t act like it isn’t your fault that I’m rock hard in a crowded food joint. Oh, fuck, I know you love cockwarming me, baby, but imagine doing it in a room full of people. One of those pretty little sundresses you love to tease me with hiding us from everyone. You’d have to keep quiet for me, though, so nobody finds out I have you stuffed full.” 

“God, I hope some elderly woman is not seated by you listening to this—you’ll give her a stroke.” Your joking voice sounds more like your please, fuck me voice right now, and you’re rubbing your pussy against the chair lip like in highschool fucking math class with that one handsome teacher. 

“The only thing I’m stroking today is that needy clit when I get my hands on—“ his voice changes from sensual to frustrated, and the line goes blank for a minute. “I gotta go, baby, see you tonight?” 

“Yeah, see you tonight, Tom.” 

“Keep her wet for me.” 

Well, at least you know that won’t be a problem. Not even while you’re showering, shaving, touching up the paint on your nails, cleaning, soaking your feet in epsom salts, and pulling out the new pretty cotton candy lace lingerie set you bought for Tom to lay out for later. You burn some incense, feed the plants, brush your teeth, and then even do a face mask just for the hell of it. 

It takes a while for you to realize that you’re starving. Blueberry pancakes sound like heaven right now, and you have everything but the main ingredient—fresh blueberries, Tom had insisted, they need to be fresh. 

You could eat a TV dinner for the 8th time this week, ignore that grumble in your tummy that craves something light and fluffy and sweet, but instead you grab your keys and decide to head to the local corner store for some little, delicious blue diamonds. 

You know it’s ridiculous, that just walking into the store, you feel like you’re floating around on a little cloud. This is all Tom’s fault, of course. The euphoria of new love–fuck, you should not use that word. But frankly, you don’t know what else to call it. 

No one has ever made you feel this way before. Always, you had a chorus of warning bells in the back of your mind in previous relationships, warning you not to get too comfortable, not to think for a moment you could depend on a man to be good to you past the point where he’d finally gotten the gratification that he wanted out of you all along.

But Tom…Tom wanted you. And not just for sex, though that had been–and you had a feeling would continue to be–fucking amazing. You think back on the way you had cuddled in your bed with such a sense of fulfillment and peace. He made you feel whole, whether he was inside you or just filling your arms, and that usual sense of terror that fills you with such things is gradually fading to a dull roar. You know if it goes on much longer–another day, another hour–you’re going to fold and give in. 

Floating on your little cloud, you’re not really paying much attention, as you browse the shelves and pick out your ingredients. The blueberries look heavenly, and you cradle your prize in your hand, excited to put them to use–in your grumbling tummy. So when the sound of gunfire erupts somewhere in the little store, you are taken completely by surprise. All you can think to do is hit the floor, making yourself as small and flat as possible. 

Blueberries spill and bounce down the aisle. 

***

Detective Tom Ludlow is on the prowl. 

He knows he should let it go–but he can’t. It’s just not in his vocabulary. Detective Terrence Washington betrayed their brotherhood, and he fully intends to give his old partner a piece of his mind. A firm talking to. 

Ok. He might break his jaw. 

As young cops Ludlow and Washington had regrettably learned that nothing gets in the way of Law and Order like the Law itself. After watching bad men go free on the streets time and time again, they had worked together to administer their own brand of justice. So what if they walked slightly on the other side of the line? If it meant a piece of shit wife abuser didn’t get to skip back home just to do it again, or a murderer didn’t go free to hurt someone else, then they’d done a good night’s work. Helping people was what he’d become a cop for in the first place, and it seemed like using his knowledge and connections to more vigilante purposes was the only way real justice got done. 

Maybe a part of him had sort of known it might catch up to him someday. He hadn’t cared at the time. After his wife’s death…he hadn’t cared about much, except the job. It was all he had. But now…he has you. It complicated things, in the best way. He knows you’re scared. He knows you’ve had a rough past, even if you haven’t felt comfortable enough to tell him about it yet. Most of all, he knows…that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time, and he’s not letting you go. 

So maybe, just this once, he’ll keep a hold of his world-class temper, and not use the belt he’s coiled around his fist to protect his knuckles. The sound of loud rap music catches his attention; he turns to see a late model red Caprice, windows down, piloted by two men with faces covered with bandanas. 

In his gut, he just knows.  

He knows something terrible is about to happen, and he doesn’t have his sidearm because officially he’d surrendered it and he was supposed to be working the Complaints Desk right now. All he has is his backup strapped to his ankle. It’s a .38 special, just like his father carried, with six fucking shots and it’s not nearly going to be enough to go against the firepower these boys are undoubtedly packing. 

He runs into the store anyway, because that is what he does. 

***

The items on the shelves explode in the rain of gunfire. Cereal. Canned goods. Chips. Poof! You are covered in foodstuff detritus, and your ears are ringing, and people are screaming on the other side of the store. It all happens so fast, and yet somehow time seems to slow. 

You know you’re an idiot, but it is the sound of the screams that gets you army-crawling your way around to the corner of the isle. Someone might need your help. If they’re screaming–they’re not dead. And whether you’re in the ER or not, that means you have a job to do.

As you poke your head around the corner you see an African American man on the ground, his ebony dark skin splattered bright crimson with blood. One of the robbers leans over him, says something you can’t make out past the ringing in your ears. The man on the ground reaches up, swipes the bandana away with a clumsy hand. Says something forceful with what little strength he can muster.  

You see the shooter’s face, his handsome features a mask of fury as he shoots the injured man one more time in the chest. 

Then the shooters flee, racing out the door to their car, peeling away down the block. 

You are shocked, when none other than Officer Tom Ludlow emerges from behind one of the other banks of shelves, kneels beside the wounded man. 

“Washington, Washington, stay with me” he calls, urgent and panicked, a new side of him coming to light among spilled grocery goods and fluorescent lights. He feels the man’s pulse, and his face turns pallid and scared. You’re on your feet, then, running and slipping on a puddle of liquid, getting right back up and crossing what feels like a miles long distance to land at the man’s side. 

“Y/n?” Tom grabs your shoulders, but you shove him off. 

“Does he have a pulse?”

“No, are you alright?” 

“Call 911, get me an AED.” You press two fingers into a blood coated jugular, slipping off the mess of plasma, and then going back to feel for a pulse that isn’t there. 

Turns out Tom doesn’t have to call anyone, because two ambulances and five cop cars pull up to the storefront. As you perform CPR, the old familiar song and dance of cartilage tearing and ribs breaking and getting covered in crimson up to the mid forearm, police and firemen and other uniformed personnel flood into the store. 

Someone tries to pull Tom away, but he shoves them off and kneels back down beside you with an AED, knuckles bloody and glittering with glass shards from where he probably punched in a display window to get to the defibrillator. 

“Put the pads on him,” you tell Tom, lifting up your hands momentarily so he can rip Washington’s shirt right down the middle. You go back to compressing while he slaps the pads on, and switches the device. 

It lights up, that little pleasant ding a thick balm on your raging, acidic anxiety. STAND CLEAR, it says, just as the stretcher arrives. ANALYZING HEART RHYTHM.  

“Let me take over,” someone instructs, taking your place on the floor. “How long have you been at it?”

Tom speaks for you. “Twenty minutes.” 

Felt like two. 

NO SHOCK ADVISED. BEGIN CPR. 

“Put a line in.” Tom pulls you away. “Pushing epi now.” He picks you up, sticky from blood—or maybe that’s you. “STAND CLEAR.” You get a cradled police escort outside, and placed gently into the passenger seat of Tom’s car. 

“Stay here?” He asks, hand on your cheek, damp and thick. 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

He shuts you in and presses the lock. 

[gilverrwrites]

Hello could you please do some captain boomerang headcanon fluff, I don’t see enough of it on here.

AN: I can and I will. Good fluffy vibes only today, however, if you would like a reality check, please watch the video linked at the end.

Rating: General (however, wanting for swearing)

Please remember: Everything you're worried about, is going to turn out ok.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

Cn’t w8 2 c 👀 u 🫵l8r 👄❣️🪃 X 🌫️ Gud nite mu 🫥 u4e lol 😜 🩵🪃 xXx RUOK 4 d8 l8r??? 🌷💦 CUL ❤️‍🔥🪃 X

Has your name saved in his phone as the most ridiculous nickname you can think of, probably also with a bunch of emojis.

Dependant on your personality, petnames would include a few of the following: Darl’, darlin’, babs, babes, baby (pronounced bah-bee), sweets, hon, peachy, lovey, peanut, or doll.

Whatever your least favourite is, he will use the most cause he loves winding you up.

Swears at you, a lot. But its affectionate.

He’s not used to people doing things for him, so he is massively grateful when you do like menial domestic labour for him.

You sewed up the hole in my jacket? You’re THE best, I can’t believe you would do that for me. You did my laundry? WTF? You didn’t have to do that (he’s been wearing the same unwashed boxers for 2 weeks, someone had to) how can I ever repay you babes? You cooked for me? (It’s literally a pot-noodle) You’re an angel, I’m not welling up, shut it.

He’s really good at like, enhancing 'easy' food. He’ll add egg and chives and stuff to his packet noodles, makes the best cheese and vegemite toasty, knows just how much oil and extra cheese to add to a frozen pizza, and has mastered box mix cupcakes. His favourite is chocolate.

Uses a 5 in 1 shower gel, if and when he showers, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t blast lynx africa and/or paco rabanne 1 million so he smells woody and spicy.

However, if you have fancy smelly products of you’re own, he will use them. Gonna treat himself with a good scrub and some large helpings of your shampoo and conditioner (this one’s got multiple products for their hair, posho!)

Doesn’t matter if you use products intended for a specific skin/hair type, it’s getting used.

As a nice bonus he likes doing it cause it means your smell lingers on him when you’re not together.

Won’t admit it but he also really likes it if you burn candles and/or incense.

If you’re close enough in size, he will steal your clothes. Especially socks cause he is always wearing holes into his own.

Gets all gooey and excited when you wear his clothes, especially if you’re small enough that they look oversized, and are visibly his.

If you’re inclined to wear flowy summer dresses, he’ll go feral. Also, a big fan of linen shirts/blouses and short shorts.

When he’s dressed causal he lives in shorts and filp-flops, even in the midst of winter. Or if he’s not leaving the house he’ll just wear his boxer shorts.

Is gone for long periods of time (prison, hiding out etc) so is very clingy when you’re back together, and doesn’t really have boundaries.

Will walk in on you in the bath shower to use the toilet, or to just sit and talk to you. If you ask him nicely, he will wash your hair. Might not do a good job, but he will do it. Has his arms wrapped around your waist at all times while you’re trying to do chores or are out shopping. If he wakes before you (a rare occurrence) he will just lay on his side, watching you sleep. Might get impatient and attempt to subtly wake you by gently brushing your side or nose, or gently shaking your body.

Normally sleeps way into the day, and snores, loudly. Often wakes with a hangover. And will practically beg you to make him a bacon an egg.  

Loves almost any and all brekkie food, bacon, egg, hash browns, pancakes, you name it.

Is not a cuddly sleeper. Like he can fall asleep cuddling, but he will start rolling around, splaying his arms out, kicking his legs. Huge bed hog.

Says his favourite films are action, gangster, or like bro style comedies. Think like: Road House, Indian Jones, Kill Bill, The Gentleman, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, The Hang Over.

If you put on a horror, drama, or rom com, he will not watch it with you.

But he will find things to do in the general vicinity. Or straight up do the dad thing of like standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. If he’s not sat with you, he’s technically not watching it.

So like, which one is actually her dad? They don’t tell you but the writ- No no no, don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out, Don’t go in the basement, there’s never anything good in the basement, oh she’s only bloody gone and went in the basement! But… Barbie doesn’t love Ken. I’m not cryin, I just got allergies, shut up an’ watch your dumb girly film.

Has a stolen tattoo gun,wants to get matching tattoos, has pro for everyone of your cons. Ideally, he just wants names/initials in hearts, but will settle for more symbolic tattoos. Like a boomerang to represent him for you, and something similar for you.

Keeping any gift you’ve ever given him for life.

I made you a friends ship braclet. Eh, ya know its not my normal kinda jewellery. You don’t ha- No, fuck off, I’m gonna wear it forever.  

Would still love you if you were a worm. Hasn’t the foggiest what he would do with you. But he would love you.

Obviously gonna teach you how to use a boomerang. Even if you already know, he’s gonna show you the right way. Gotta make sure his bab is protected. (Don’t tell him that you find them impractical and are unlikely to ever use one when in need, he will sulk.)

Aforementioned video.

[betweenbreaths]

86. Does it make you nervous when I stare?

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Characters: Xavier x Reader

Rating: E / 18+

A/N: Prompt List

++++++

The partner sytem in the Hunter's Watch has gotten you out a pinch a few times now. Just recently, when you found yourself dealing with an impossible horde of wanderers, your partner had received a red alert on his watch and came to your rescue, teleporting you out of the way in the nick of time. If not for him, you may well have died that day.

Then again, it may have been better to die with some dignity while carrying out your duties as a hunter, than to die from embarrassment like this.

And by 'this', you mean caught with your pants down (literally) and a dildo shoved halfway up your pussy, and a certain partner teleporting into your bedroom mid-orgasm, staring at you with utter bewilderment when he realises you’re not screaming for help.

Oh, and how could you forget to mention? He'd walked in right when you were screaming his name in ecstasy.

What happens in the next few seconds is complete chaos. You scream, chucking the nearest pillow at his head, which Xavier expertly dodges as he bolts out the door after mumbling a red-faced apology over his shoulder.

The rest of that afternoon is spent searching for apartments in Linkon City that are available for rent; the sooner you move away the better, lest you run into your partner by chance in this apartment building. Goodness knows how devastatingly awkward it will be to ever face him again. You’re not sure if you can even look him in the eye anymore.

For now, you'll just have to avoid him for as long as you can.

Unfortunately, that only lasts for a matter of hours.

Later that night, you hear your doorbell ring. Afraid that it might be Xavier, you ignore it, but when the doorbell ringing continues after 10 minutes, you give up and head over to get rid of your visitor. Much to your dismay and no surprise, you find Xavier standing at your door, meeting your gaze only for a second before dropping them to his feet and shifting his weight restlessly.

"I brought food. To... apologise... for this afternoon."

You look down at the plastic bag in his hands, and you catch a whiff of what smells like egg tarts.

"You made this?"

"No, I bought it. I was afraid it wouldn't turn out right.”

The tension is so thick you could suffocate. With a resigned sigh, you accept the bag from him. "Thanks. Let's... just forget about everything. Nothing happened today.”

"I can't do that." Xavier's abrupt reply has you blinking twice and doing a double-take.

"What- What do you mean, you 'can't'?"

"Because I heard you... saying my name back there."

Trying to feign ignorance is a herculean task in front of sweet, innocent Xavier. Not to mention, you’re not exactly a seasoned liar.

You clear your throat awkwardly and in the most convincing voice you can muster, you tell him, "You must have heard wrong."

Xavier stares at you, unfazed.

"...You're not a very good liar."

Damn it.

"Sorry. It doesn't mean anything, so don't... think too much about it. Let's just call it a night, okay? I'm tired, and—"

You move to close the door, but he immediately holds it open, swiftly sidestepping you and worming his way into your apartment before you can stop him. What would be the point, anyway? He could teleport in here if he so wished.

"I think we should talk about it," Xavier insists. It's rare for him to be so stubborn, and you find your resolve softening when you meet his piercing, determined gaze.

Your head falls, eyes resting on your feet. "I'm sorry for what happened this afternoon.”

"I'm not here to ask for an apology." He steps closer, figure approaching you. You instinctively step back, withdrawing farther and farther until your back hits the wall and you realise that you've been cornered.

"Then," you ask after some hesitation, voice trembling slightly, "what… are you here for?"

Xavier leans in, closing the gap between you until your noses are nearly touching. His eyes bore deeply into yours, as if searching them for an inkling of the thoughts running through your head at that moment, and you're thankful then and there that Xavier is not actually telepathic because all you can think of is how pink and kissable those lips are, how soft they would feel against yours and how hot and heavy his tongue would be running across your lips—

"I wanted to know if you... Do you..." Xavier ears have turned a dark shade of red now, and despite the trouble he's having with finishing his sentences, you can guess what he wants to ask.

That alone is enough to send your heart into overdrive once more.

"Do you have feelings for me?"

Your mind goes blank, like a hard drive that got wiped clean in an instant. You have no idea what to say to your partner who has that earnest, sincere look in his eyes. He's seriously wondering what you feel about him, while you are suddenly reminded about your unfinished business in the afternoon before you got interrupted. With him leaning in this close, his scent permeating your senses, your fingers are itching to just grab him by the collar and crash your lips to his, feel his hands on your hips and dig your fingers into his soft, silver hair...

It's then that you realise that this is no longer just your imagination. Suddenly it's real: the feel of his lips on yours, kissing you, and you're kissing back, parting your lips for your tongue to sweep across his lower lip, and then catching it between your teeth in a light nip. His hands are roaming, up and down your back, down your waist and hovering close to your ass. Yours are in his hair, pulling him closer to you and hugging him tightly, as if he'll disappear any second.

Did you make the first move? Or did he do it?

The questions fade away into nothing, melting along with your body as he kisses you with the passion of a starved beast. He’s bolder than usual, hands exploring your body with an urgency that was strange but oddly exciting, coming from him. He steps closer, positioning his thigh between your legs and pressing against your aching center. The pressure against you has you moaning softly into his lips, and you can't help but rock your hips, seeking the sweet friction that you had been denied of this afternoon.

The rest goes by in a blur, quite literally. One second you're your doorway, and in the next, you feel the wind enveloping your tightly connected bodies and when you open your eyes again, you're in your bedroom. All it takes is one step for him to push you down onto the sheets with a bounce, and then he's on top of you, lips crashing back to yours as if pained to have been parted from yours for even a moment.

"W-Wait," you say, when you finally break apart for want of air, and Xavier acquiesces, stopping himself from dipping in again for another taste of you. You find yourself nose to nose with a heavily breathing Xavier — a rare sight for a hunter who fights off wanderers without even breaking a sweat.

"This– So— It's happening so fast—"

"You want me," Xavier says matter-of-factly, husky voice sending delightful shivers down your spine. There's no trace of a question in that statement.

"You... but..."

"But, what?"

"We're partners. Isn't this weird?"

"You were touching yourself while thinking of me first—"

"Oh my god, can we stop talking about that? I died so many times from shame today."

"It doesn't have to be a bad memory, you know,” Xavier says with a sweet smile. You would have thought he was talking about going to the convenience store for a snack or something normal, if not for the position you're both in and the undeniable undertones of something naughtier that he has in mind.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

His smile widens, and you hold your breath as he leans in to whisper something you’d never ever thought you’d hear from him.

“Show me how you pleasure yourself.”

He… He can’t be serious.

Your unspoken question must have been written all over your stunned face, because Xavier reaches down to hook his fingers under the hem of your shorts, and yanks it down to expose you to him.

“I want to see it. So I can do the same for you.”

Blood rushes to your face and your already wet cunt clenches at those words. You want to say no, but how can you, when he’s looking at you with such a sincere, pleading gaze? Saying no to him would be the equivalent of kicking a puppy; you just can't.

But your fingers are also hesitant, and when you waver for too long, Xavier decides to take your wrist in his warm hand, and guide them to your center, brushing your fingers over your wet slit.

"This... is too embarrassing," you tell him, biting down on your lip as he sinks your fingers into your slick folds. Your fingers aren't moving, paralysed by his heated, intense gaze.

Xavier's darkened eyes meet yours once more, and you want to look away, but his other hand catches your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?" he asks, voice lowered to a deep whisper. He leans in closer and you find yourself unable to shift back. All you can do is hold your breath as his nose finds yours and you feel his warm breath fanning over your parted lips.

Your eyes dip down for a brief moment to his lips, and in that moment you hear him chuckle. His hand, formerly on your wrist, slides down to rest over your index and middle fingers, and he pushes them into your folds, rubbing gently over your clit.

The shock of pleasure shoots through you and you let out a gasp, which is immediately muffled when his lips captures yours in an eager kiss.

The kiss is better than how you imagined it would be; it's warm and gentle like the rays of the morning sun, melting all your nerves and worries away.

His hand moves from your chin to your cup your cheek, thumb swiping delicately over your cheekbone, before sliding to the back of your neck to tug you closer to him. In response, your arms wrap around his back, hugging him tightly. Moans of his name slip out every so often when you break apart for air, and when you can't hold back when he continues moving your fingers against your sensitive clit.

"Is this better?" he asks, lightly panting as well when you pause to rest your forehead against his, focusing on the pleasure that he's giving to you. His eyes are closed, as they have been for a while now.

"Are you going to keep your eyes closed?" you ask back, raising one hand to trace the curve of his eyebrow.

His lips spread into a smile, free hand taking your wrist and holding it against his cheek. His face turns towards it, lips pressing a kiss to your palm.

"I don't necessarily have to look to learn."

It's then that you feel two fingers sinking into you, stretching your walls with the sweet friction that you've been craving all afternoon. Unable to stop yourself, your hips buck into his hands as your back arches, head thrown back with a loud gasp.

"You can show me in other ways," Xavier whispers, and you don't need to look to know that this night is going to be a long one.

[corpsebasil]

The Pirate Lord Part 2

the future queen of Ravka doesn’t even know she’s going to wear a crown

You didn’t talk to him for almost two days.

He practically chased you around, vying for your attention as you avoided him like the plague. He’d lied. And not a white lie—Sturmhond had lied about his entire identity. His life. Well, you supposed, not Sturmhond. Because your captain and lover, the man you wanted to marry, was Prince Nikolai Lantsov, the youngest prince of Ravka.

So you spent your hours away from him processing and memorizing the palace, ducking into random rooms and examining anything you were allowed to see. You had to admit, finding out you were sleeping with a prince wasn’t the worst shock of your life.

You’d smacked him, though. Pretty hard.

“Y/N,” a voice called and you turned to see Tamar approaching, her eyes comically wide as she did a small spin in the hallway. “not too bad of a hovel, is it?” She asked, letting out a low whistle.

“It’s ghastly,” you lied, smirking. “how will we ever survive this?”

“Same way we survive anything.” She mused, flicking a very expensive looking vase as she passed it. “Lots of rum. Lots.” Then she stopped, tilting her head at you. “You should talk to him. He misses you.”

“Talk to who?” You asked, a thread of annoyance in your tone. “Sturmhond, or Nikolai?”

“They’re the same man.” Tamar rolled her eyes, swinging her arm around your shoulders and pulling you down the hall. “Come on, Y/N. We didn’t go through all that hell on the waves just for you two to be pissed at one another.”

“He can apologize to me.” You said, indignant. “Eventually.”

“Saints save us all.” She grumbled, leading the two of you towards the hall for dinner.

-

Nikolai had told you the truth only after you’d docked and made your way into Ravka. And he’d done it in the most ridiculous way possible—simply removing his coat to reveal a second one underneath, smiling and holding his arms out comically to you. He’d even had the audacity to say “surprise” seconds before you whacked him hard on his good shoulder.

The arrow wound was healed, but his muscle was still tender.

Now he watched you at dinner, still sitting with his crew like he always did. The difference now was that the table was far more elaborate, and there was a very comforting lack of eggs and pickles. Tolya and Tamar sat across from you, bickering over Saints knows what, while Nikolai sat beside you as you pointedly ignored him.

“Y/N,” he began, tilting his head at you. You pretended not to hear him, picking at the bowl of fruit on your plate. Fruit for heaven’s sakes. You swore never to eat a pickle again. “Y/N, please, you wouldn’t have been with me if you’d have known.”

You glared down at a strawberry, spearing it rather aggressively with your fork. He sighed and turned in his seat, placing his hand near your arm, but not on it.

“Come on. You know that I’m right.”

Tamar and Tolya were suddenly very, very interested in their own plates, the rest of the crew busying themselves with literally any topic that came to mind. You could’ve sworn someone mentioned how good the plumbing was and blocked them out.

“You don’t know that.” You said, voice cold as you shot him a look. “Everything the two of us have is based on honesty. How am I supposed to trust anything you say? You’re even acting different.”

“I cant be Sturmhond here, Y/N. I have to behave in a certain manner—”

“‘A certain manner’,” you sneered. “How royal of you.”

“You are still my Second, and the love of my life. Being a prince changes nothing—”

You stood up abruptly, almost knocking over a glass as you left the table. The crew stared, stunned, as Nikolai quickly followed, chasing after you out of the dining hall.

You stormed down the hallway towards the door that you knew led to the gardens, and past that, the lake. You’d barely stepped outside before he jumped in front of you, holding his hands out in supplication.

“Y/N,” he panted, walking backwards as you moved towards the lake, out of sight from the palace. You spotted some sort of gazebo in the distance, decorated with cushions and seemingly abandoned, and walked towards it. “Y/N, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t.” You gritted out, stomping over to the cushioned structure. “Have to do anything.” You plopped down onto the cushions, splaying out in a very messy manner. You huffed as you looked up at the ceiling, at the marble arches. “Don’t lie to me ever again.” You ordered, tossing the prince a glare.

He had the audacity to roll his eyes as he sat down beside you, shrugging off his heavy jacket and tossing it aside.

“I told you I wouldn’t.” He said, tilting his head. “But I swear I won’t. Scouts honor.” He held out his pinkie and you snorted, hooking your own through his.

“That’s a very powerful oath, Sturm—” you paused, eyebrows furrowing. “Nikolai.”

“Actually, that’s Nikolai Lantsov—Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Soldier of the King’s Army, Grand Duke of Udova, and second son to His Most Royal Majesty, King Alexander the Third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne to you, Second.”

“You’re insufferable.” You scoffed, but smiled at his familiar smirk, that mischievous light in his eyes back. “Don’t…act in front of me. I know that you have to be all posh and regal or whatever in front of the others, but not in front of me.” You frowned a bit, unsure of why it hurts to say these things to him. “I fell in love with Sturmhond.”

He swallowed, looking away from you, and sighed.

“You might love him,” he said, softly, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. “but I love you. And I had hoped that that would’ve been enough.” He gave you a look, a calm look that masked his pain and heartache, and you regretted your words the moment he moved to rise.

“No, I—” you grasped his arm, rising onto your knees as you tugged him back down. “I do love you. I do. I’m just going to have to get used to the changes, that’s all.” You knew your expression was pleading, and still you pushed on. “Just two days ago you were a pirate. This is a big switch for me.”

“Privateer.” He mumbled, but allowed a small smile to appear on his handsome face. “I’m sure you’ll adjust when you realize just how much I’m going to spoil you now that I’m in Ravka.”

You let a grin wash over your face as you tugged him forward by his shirt, pressing your mouth to his own. He laid you down eagerly atop the cushions, hands sinking into your hair as he kissed you.

“I love you.” He murmured, losing himself in the feel of you as you freed the prince from his clothes.

-

Your wedding had been an event to mark the century.

You’d had it on your ship, traveling all the way back to the ocean to marry your king. And as you kissed him, your crew and the guests clinking glasses and congratulating you both, the shell at the base of your collarbones lit up, sending tendrils of light and shimmering color across your skin.

“Queen of the seas.” Nikolai mused, glancing over at the water. Colorful fish could be seen under the surface, and when he took your hand and rested it on the rail, you could see the siren’s magic flowing all the way down your body. “I think the ocean approves, don’t you?”

You grinned, head still slightly heavier than usual from the crown that now rested upon it. It had been crafted by Nikolai himself, for you, and his outstanding powers of creation had made you a gorgeous pearl encrusted crown worthy of any queen of the seas. You turned to him, moving into his embrace as he grinned down at you.

“How do you feel about being a Queen?” He asked, raising a brow. His own coronation had been only a month before, an event at which you’d cried an embarrassing amount.

“I feel like being bedded by a king right about now.” You teased, wiggling your brows as he laughed.

“Am I to expect you to start giving me commands?” Nikolai tilted his head, tugging you closer. Nearby, Tolya was still celebrating, having had caught the bouquet. “You’re no longer my Second, you know.”

“You can start calling me Captain if you want.” You teased, leaning forward to press a long, soft kiss to his mouth. He was yours. Officially, now.

Although, you would force him to sail with you someday. Just for fun.

Yeet