#1978 au

[duckgens]

Ride the Cyclone (1978)

[mapledkanata]

Deciding that Michael and Laurie have a good sibling relationship in the AU has done wonders to my mental health /lh

Michael is Laurie's #1 instigator (mama myers does NOT like that) (michael do just be putting his thumbs up)

They play cops and robbers (except they're just the robbers), criminals, all that silly stuff.

Thank u to @casmortis for helping me develop Michael and his family :) !!

[coryosbaby]

Sweet Serial Killer *ੈ✩‧ Young! Gf! Nick Goode x reader (1)

“𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻

𝓓𝓸 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱,

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱! “

Summary: Murders are happening around Camp Nightwing, and you’ll do anything for your best friend Nick.

Warning: mentions of murder & violence, dubious consent, yandere! Nick, possessiveness, obsessive behavior, mentions of pedophilia (NOT by nick), pictures without consent, toxic relationship asf, god complex, male masturbation, oral (m & f recieving), p n v, breeding kink, dumbification, size kink, daddy kink, missionary, riding, the reader is very dependable on Nick, loss of virginity, creampie, marking, squirting, dom! Nick, sub! Reader

Nick isn’t an inherently violent person.

But when he meets you in the summer of ‘76, all of that is thrown out the window.

You’re a camper. And no, you aren’t a child; you’re eighteen years old. Nick is twenty, beginning as his first year as a counselor. At Camp Nightwing, it’s taboo for a counselor and camper to become romantically involved. But Jesus, Nick just can’t help but be so in love when he looks at you. Your cabin is right next to his, and he sees your sweet ass everyday, watches you strut around with him on his off days and have fun. You’ve both grown incredibly close. And if anyone messes with you, they have to deal with him.

And waves of intense rage aren’t new to him. But right now, he has still never been so incredibly angry.

He watches as a camper, some guy named Alex and around your age, torments you; pulls your hair, calls you names, makes fun of your makeup. And it makes his blood boil. You’re so precious, so much of an angel. No one needs to treat you this way. He approaches, quickly breaking it up. On the outside, his demeanor is calm, is safe.

To you, Nick will always be safe.

Alex scurries away quickly when Nick starts murmuring threats through clenched teeth. Tears are running down your face, and Nick brings his arm around your shoulder and guides you to his empty cabin. You bury his face in his neck when you’re both finally alone on his bed. He pulls you away and begins to stroke your tearful face soothingly.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I know. It’s okay, honey. That fuckin’ asshole..” he looks at you with slight concern for a moment. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You sniffle, and shake your head. “He p-pulled my hair, a little bit. But I’m fine.”

If Nick had any previous guilt about his plans for tonight, they’re all gone now.

“Okay..” he smiles, a small laugh leaving his lips as he runs his hands over the outer corners of your eyes.

“You ruined your makeup.”

You frown, worried. “Do I look bad?”

“What? No, not at all.” How could you ever think you look bad? “You look.. you look really pretty, y/n.”

“Oh.” your face flushes, and you smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies. And then,after that, you lay down on his bed and he reads you your favorite book while you curl up on his left side. It’s one of the things he does to help you feel better, to make you feel even more protected and safe with him.

And then later that night, the first murder at Camp Nightwing takes place.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day the talk is all around camp. Alex, the boy that had harassed you the day before, is dead.

You’re in shock. No one has ever died at the camp before; it’s full of teenagers and kids doing arts and crafts, after all. In a situation like this, they should close down the camp. But the death itself was confirmed to be an accident; he had somehow slipped off of a cliff beside the lake that campers weren’t allowed to approach, and had hit his head on the rocky floor below. A counselor had found him that day, and there were rumors that it was incredibly brutal; his head was completely smashed to pieces.

Some people, however, believe it wasn’t an accident. There were rumors that a few campers saw someone in a black robe and a weird mask that resembled that of a ghost. But those were just rumors, for now.

You shove the thought that Alex deserved what he got down into your gut, and decide to feel bad for him.

“I just don’t get it,” you explain to Nick the next day, in the empty art room. “Why would you even go over there? It’s like, the most dangerous spot.”

Nick shrugs as you refer to Alex, as he knots a new bracelet for the third time that day.

“Dunno,” he replies. “Like I said, he was an idiot.”

His tone and the use of the word ‘was’ makes bile rise in your throat, but you change the topic to the task at hand.

If anyone knows you, you’re just a little… dumb. So, Nick helps you with your crafts in your art activities everyday, always teaches you new things because you’re interested and don’t know how. It’s not just in this field, where you depend on him; he helps you with practically everything, even feeds you from time to time. He knows how to take care of you, how to keep you satisfied and happy.

He watches as you struggle to tie a knot in the bracelet that you’re creating, watches as you slam it down onto the table and make a sound of frustration. He chuckles, amused.

“Having fun?”

“Fuck off, Nick.” You snap . You immediately begin to apologize, not meaning to have sounded so rude.

“Im so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, y/n. It’s okay, I promise.”

He hates when you feel as if you’ve said something wrong around him. You could never anger him.

“It’s just…” you rub your eyes, careful not to destroy your glittery makeup. “I can’t.. I can’t make the bracelet. It’s not working.”

“That’s okay,” Nick assures. “I can teach you. It’s okay, here-“

His fingers move to grab the strings from you, maneuvering the plastic stand it’s attached to so he can gain better access. He looks down at the instructions.

“Yeah, this knot is complicated,” it’s not, but you don’t need to know that. “All you’re doing wrong is not looping it around. If you just..”

He smiles as he grabs your cherry red nails into his larger set of hands. He brings them down and shows you the proper way to tie the bracelet, and you squeal in victory when you’re finally done. It’s a little jagged along a section, but it isn’t too bad.

“See! I knew you could do it. You’re such a quick learner.” Nick praises. You flush.

“Thank you.”

He watches as you tie the ends. And then, you’re nervously looking towards him.

“I want you to have it.. i-if that’s okay!”

Nick beams, happily snatching the bracelet from your hands and slipping it onto his wrist.

“Thank you, angel. I love it.”

He picks up one of the bracelets he made and insists that you wear it too. He ties the ends for you, and slips it around your wrist. You smile. And then, with ease, he brings his lips down to your wrist and places a kiss to it. The nervous lip bite you give him makes his cock harden in his pants, but he chooses to ignore it for now. You smell so sweet, the perfume on your wrists making his eyes practically roll back. It’s so you, and he can’t get enough of it.

“Do you want to go back to my cabin?”

The words make you stutter, knowing that the cabin is empty and that everyone is away at another camping activity at the lake. But alas, you utter a quick ‘yes’. When you get inside he guides you to sit down at the head of his bed so he can read to you again. But once he gets through a couple paragraphs of The Great Gatsby, you’re already leaning onto his shoulder sleepily.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Mhm.”

“C’mere.”

He grabs one of your arms and slings it over his chest. You sigh happily, shoving your face into his shirt as he moves down to lay flat on the bed.

“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.”

“Okay, Nicky. Thank you.”

Oh, how precious.

Your soft snores fill the room as you sleep. Time ticks by, but Nick can’t seem to keep still as much as he wants to. So, gently, he removes himself from underneath you and pulls his blanket over your shoulders as you turn over in your sleep. He watches as your tits seem to practically spill out of your tank top. His breath catches in his throat. It’s not that noticeable because it’s on your lower side, but your nipple has seemed to slip out of the fabric.

The thing he does next is probably incredibly wrong. But who can blame him, with you looking like that?

His hands go down to palm the bulge in his pants. He breathes heavily, lip getting caught in his teeth as he watches your slow moving breath and beautiful face. He brings his hands into his pants and begins to stroke himself with vigor.

He knows it’s incredibly risky. You’re his best friend, and if he gets caught doing this you might not be anymore. But precum spills over his fist and he thrusts into his own palm mercilessly. He starts to imagine scenarios with you in them: taking your tits into his mouth, sucking on those pert little nipples that he loves to see peeking through your shirt. Fucking that tight little pussy he knows you have, while you’re on all fours and your ass is bouncing back against his abs. And then, lastly, watching your little cunt get stretched beyond its boundaries as he impales you, your virgin blood coating his cock and leaving your creamy spend on him. This makes him keen, and then he’s stuffing his fist into his mouth as he cums all over the inside of his briefs. You begin to stir, not quite waking up, but it makes Nick’s mouth water even more at the thought of you catching him. You don’t wake up, however. You’re always such a deep sleeper.

Nick sighs, moving into the bathroom to wash off his hands and then change into a new pair of underwear.

And then, when he’s next to his dress, he catches sight of his camera.

It’s a Polaroid camera, a dark brown that he keeps with him whenever he wants to take picture of the camp’s scenery.

But maybe it can be used for other sights.

He remembers to turn the flash off, and then he snaps a picture of your sleeping form. And then, another. And another. And another. All at different angles, some far away, some so close that it’s a surprise that you don’t hear the click of the device and wake up. When he’s done he gathers up all of the pictures that have been printed and shoves them into his drawer full of shirts, next to another set of pictures. Ones that consist of a boy in water, with his head missing.

He checks on the clock on the wall. It’s dinner time, now.

He goes over and lightly shakes you. It takes a few minutes of this before your eyes finally crack open.

“C’mon, sweets, you gotta wake up,” he murmurs. “It’s time for dinner.”

You blink, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and smearing your makeup in the process again. But when you get up and look in the mirror, you choose not to acknowledge it.

You don’t even notice the anxious look Nick gives you when you ask for some of his clothes and reach into his t-shirt drawer. He’s so thankful that he hid the photos in the very back, because you don’t find them.

He makes a mental note to move them to a place where no one would think to look.

 ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day Tommy Slater teaches you archery.

You’ve see the boy around, not really ever talking, but he’s sweet, with nice hair and a pretty smile. He holds your arms in the right position as he helps you pull back the strings of the bow. When you pull it back, it’s the first time ever that you hit the target. You pull him into a hug, and his hands go down to your waist as he asks if he can buy you a cherry coke from the vending machines.

Nick watches the whole thing with displeasure when you say yes.

No one really notices, but Nick just always seems to be around you, even though there’s a whole other side of camp to be taught. It’s a surprise, really, that the boy can keep his job. If it wasn’t for the extra class he teaches everyday and his father being the sheriff, he’d probably be fired.

Nick really hasn’t had that much of a problem with Tommy before. He’s a nice guy, and they get along well whenever they work together. Hell, Tommy was even his bunkmate for a while before he decided to switch and room with his brother, Will.

But he’s talking to you. And he’s being a little too nice, too touchy to see you as a regular camper or friend.

And Nick can’t have that, can he?

So a week later, after you had started to grow close with the boy, Tommy Slater is found with a noose around his neck. A suicide, of course. It’s incredibly unfortunate for you; you cry about it, not leaving your cabin all day over the death of your new friend when you find out the news.

Of course, Nick is there to comfort you. He doesn’t leave your side, and stays with you for the entirety of the day while you sleep on top of his shirtless, warm body.

He’s such a good friend.

You sigh as you roll yourself out of your bed. You’re exhausted, mentally. Nick had begged you to come to dinner with him, but to no avail after many minutes of struggling. You figure right about now that the best thing to do is your makeup. Something that sounds incredibly stupid, but it helps you relieve a lot of stress. You bring yourself back over to your bed with your makeup bag and begin to apply a full face.

You jump, almost smearing your eyeliner, when Nick opens the door. Although you shouldn’t get excited at a time like this, you smile when you see an ice cream cone in one of his hands.

“Finally getting up?” He teases. You nod.

“I guess so. No use getting hung up, right? We..” you’re trying to seem positive, but the image of Tommy’s body hanging from the ceiling brings bile to your throat. You swallow it down as you apply a layer of blush and grab the ice cream cone from Nick. “Me and Tommy weren’t even that close.”

Nick shrugs, sitting down beside you and resting his head on your shoulder to watch you apply your mascara.

“He’s in a better place now, y/n.” The boy assures.

You nod in agreement, but you’re still a bit upset. You shake the thoughts out of your head and lick at the ice cream cone. Nick watches some it drip down your chin, and he imagines what it would be like to stuff your mouth full.

“So,” He starts. His eyes never leave your mouth. “Are you going on the camping trip tonight?”

Every Saturday, campers go deeper into the woods and camp out. You know Nick enjoys it, but the thought of sleeping in a tent with no air conditioner tonight does not sound like fun.

“Probably not.” You reply.

“That’s okay.” Nick assures. He can tell by the look on your face that you feel bad for ditching him. “On second thought, how about I stay here with you tonight? I know you don’t like to be in the dark alone.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of the dark, I’m scared of what’s in the dark! But also, won’t you get in trouble?”

“Whatever you say, sweetness.” Nick replies. “But I’m staying. I’ll just say I’m sick. ”

“That’s…good. I want you here.” And it’s true, as you utter the words. Nick smiles, and watches as you get up to throw away the ice cream cone (one of your weird quirks that Nick has picked up is that you only like the ice cream itself, and not the cone). When you bend down to drop it into the trash can, your shorts ride up and the soft globes of your ass are exposed. Nick exhales sharply.

You hear him, and turn around to look at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

Nick coughs, eyes averting from you as his cheeks glaze over into a dusty pink. “Yeah! It’s just a little stuffy in here, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Do you want to go to your cabin instead? You have a better air conditioner, anyway.” And then your eyes light up. “And you have a radio! We can listen to music tonight!”

Nick chuckles at your excitement. He knows you enjoy music. “Yeah, honey.”

“Yay!”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It’s not long before almost everyone in camp is away, and you and Nick are alone. Although the trip is optional, very few people decide to stay behind. Will had left, his eyes lingering on you a bit too long as he tells Nick to ‘have fun’. Nick’s eyes had narrowed at his tone, and he had put a possessive grip on you as he guided you to his radio so he could teach you how to use it.

And that night, Nick introduces you to weed.

It’s not something you’re opposed to, you’ve just never got around to it. And when Nick pulls out a small bag of the skunk smelling drug, you’re happy to get high with him.

You giggle as Nick runs his fingers over your legs in a teasing manner. He knows your ticklish behind your knees, and of course he isn’t going to ignore the chance of getting to touch you. His radio plays ‘Fear The Reaper’ in a blaring tone, and the both of your eyes are red rimmed and watery. You move away from his hands and off to bed to explore the things in his room, dazed.

And then you catch sight of his camera.

You pick it up, and feel the plastic device with your fingertips.

“I’ve never seen you with this,” you say. “Is it new?”

Nick lifts his body up off of the bed to look at you.

“No, I’ve had it for a while.” He replies.

“Oh.” and then, your hands begin to flimsily play with the buttons.

Nick grins. “Do you want me to take pictures of you?”

The question catches you off guard, but the look on his face, begging, can’t make you say no.

“If you want.”

“That’s great,” Nick pauses, hesitant. “Can you get on the bed for me?”

“Yes sir.”

You don’t mean to say it, really, but you just want to follow his directions. You think he’s going to be freaked out, but all he does is give you a sweet smile.

“Good girl.”

Your face flushes, and your twiddle your fingers as you begin to climb onto the bed. You move your hair so it rests behind your shoulders, and smile. Nick snaps it, the perfect view of you on your knees for him. You move to another position, sideways, and tilt your head back.

So cute, Nick thinks. And all mine.

By the third or fourth, you’re comfortable enough to not be shy.

“Is this good?” You ask. You’re leaning forward now, on your knees once again. Nick can see your cleavage at this angle, and he thinks you’re the most sexiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Perfect.” And then, another pause before he speaks. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blanch, as if that’s the first time he’s ever said it. You look up at him with a look he can’t quite place.

“Do you really think so?”

“I think you’re perfect.”

Dazed and Confused by Led Zepplin is playing on the radio now. The tension in the room grows intensely, in this moment, as Nick utters the words. It’s as if it’s never been experienced before. It has, many times, but usually there was someone or something to interrupt that tension.

So now, all that Nick can think to do is throw the camera onto the bed, move over to you, lean down, and press his lips to yours.

It’s probably a dumb idea, but if it goes the opposite of the way Nick wants then he can just blame it on the mary jane in his system.

But you kiss back. The boy suspects you’ve never been kissed before, because your lips move awkwardly against his. It’s endearing to him, and he moves to press himself closer to you. You moan against him when he begins to climb on top of you. He pulls away, his thighs caging your hips down. He grabs your hands and moves them above your head.

“You’ve never done this before , have you?”

You look away shyly, shaking your head as you do so to signal the word ‘no’. He grabs your face with his strong hands and guides you too gaze at him again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, y/n. Yes.. or no?”

Your lip gets caught in between your teeth as he looks down at you hungrily.

“No.” You utter softly.

He tuts, bring his hand down to your hip and rubbing the soft skin there.

“So no one’s ever touched you here? Hm?”

You shake your head.

“Poor baby.” His hand moves down further. He’s ghosting his fingers over the crotch of your shorts. You squirm, a small squeak leaving your mouth when he presses on your clit through the fabric. “What about here, baby? Anyone ever played with this little clit before?”

“N-Nick, c’mon-“

“Who? Are you lying to me? Has someone touched you here?” His tone is demanding, now, angry. You look up at him with wide eyes. He’s always been so gentle with you, and his attitude now shock you.

“No..” and then, softly, “no sir. I promise.”

He calms, a small smirk beginning to play on his lips. He rubs, gentle and slow, on your clit. You mewl, hands going up to his hair for leverage as he teases you.

“Such good manners. Being such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you. You whine in protest, beginning to grab his hand and put it back where it was, but he pushes your grip away. He chuckles.

“No, no. You’re going to do something for me first.”

Your face goes red, when he grabs your hand and presses it against his girth.

“You feel that, baby?” He’s taunting, watching as your mouth opens on instinct and your soft wet tongue lolls out. “Feel what you did?”

“Yes. Yes, daddy, I-“

The word that leaves your mouth isn’t intentional, but when it does it has Nick groaning, thrusting his hips up into your hand.

“God, that’s it. You want me to be your daddy, baby? Wanna be my little girl?”

You nod, eagerly, and you begin to move to unbuckle his jeans. He makes a noise of disapproval, though.

“No. Stay right here.”

And then he’s moving off the bed and to the foot of it, beginning to unbuckle his belt. He beckons you over, but stops you when you begin to get off the bed.

“No,” His hand goes down into his pants, and he breathes shakily.

“Crawl.”

Your pussy is practically drenched at this point. A small moan sounds in the back of your throat, and you get on your hands and knees. The look Nick gives you as you move towards him is so dark that you aren’t sure it’s even him anymore. But fuck, he looks so handsome, so beautiful. You can’t help but do what he says.

You’ll do anything for him.

He grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you up on your knees at the edge of the bed. His shirt has ridden up, exposing a sliver of his tanned and toned skin.

“What do you want me to do now, daddy?” The words you’re saying sound so unlike yourself, but it’s like something different has taken over you. All you can think or feel is NickNickNickNickNick. Over and over, your pussy throbbing and spilling wet juices all over the inside of your panties.

“Take your shirt off, sweetheart.”

The demand is one you follow instantly, and when you slip the shirt over your head your nipples are puffy and swollen. He grins, moving down to flick one of your nipples.

“These are so pretty. We should get them pierced, don’t you think?”

The thought of needles going through your tits make you wince. Nick laughs.

“I was just joking, angel.”

“We have to have those nice and ready for our baby, don’t we?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs again, as if pregnancy is some kind of game.

“Joking, again. God, you’re so gullible, you know that?”

You really don’t think you’d mind carrying his baby, but you don’t mention that right now. Instead, you bring your hands to the bulge in his pants. He groans in surprise, and looks down at you.

“You little minx. Get to work, then. Since you want to be so impatient.”

You hesitate, not really knowing what to do.

“Can you teach me, sir?”

He presses your mouth to his clothed cock, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You drool all over the fabric of his jeans, the confines of the zipper making his incredibly large cock press against the denim.

“Gotta taste it first, don’t you?” He teases. He yanks you away from his dick and pulls your head back so you’ll look up at him.

“Give me a kiss.”

You do, reaching up desperately to kiss him on his soft, sweet lips. He strokes your face, gentle unlike the past few minutes.

“Do you feel safe with me?”

You nod, and he nods his head in understanding at the confirmation.

He begins to unzip his fly. And then, you watch as he pulls out his thick length. You gawk at how pretty and large he is, his tip shining with precum and his balls drawn up tight.

“Do you trust me?”

His voice is rougher now. He strokes his cock, and you ache for it to feel the deep canal of your throat.

“Yes, daddy. You’re the only person in the world I’ll ever trust.”

“Good. You only need me.”

And then he’s rubbing the tip over your lips, and you’re eagerly suckling the soft skin and licking the precum off. He tastes so good, so salty and bitter but so perfectly divine. He growls low in his throat, holding back as much as he can so he doesn’t destroy your perfect little mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. Didn’t even have to tell you where to put that slutty mouth. You think about this a lot, don’t you?”

You nod, as much as you can with your mouth full.

“Run your tongue along the vein.” He directs, watching as you pull off and ask him what to do next. “You see, right there?”

You follow his directions perfectly, following the trail and then moving to kitten lick underneath his head. His eyes roll back, and he shallowly thrusts into your throat. You become desperate, then, and before he realizes what’s happening your downing his whole aching prick in one singular stroke.

“Oh, fuck, you bitch!” He’s loud, and his resolve breaks. He grabs your head with both of his hands and begins to fuck your throat with vigor. You choke, your eyes watering, but you don’t want him to let up. Looking up at him through watery lashes, you see that his had is tilted back and his mouth is open in shock and pleasure.

“I can feel the back of your goddamn throat, Jesus fuck..”

He slows, just a bit, when he sees you struggling to breathe.

“Remember to breathe through your nose, sweetness.”

His advice helps you, and soon you’re relaxed as he uses your throat. Your hands grip his thighs, and on a particularly deep thrust your nose hits the curly black hair at his base. It’s amazing, how much you can take.

Not that Nick has been with many girls, but he’s been with a few. And all of them could hardly take his cock inside their cunt, much less their throat. Nick giggles at the irony, then, sadistically. Of course you can take it. You’re made for him. And he’s your god, a life force that you’re devoted to, that you can’t ever escape.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Nick says roughly. “ My good little cocksucker.”

That sets you off, and your fingers begin to go down and rub your clit. It doesn’t take long before Nick is pulling you off and pushing you back down on the bed. He grabs you by your thighs and begins to unbuttons your shorts aggressively. When he gets down to your underwear he’s pulling them off with a quickness and shoving them into his back pocket.

You really should be shy right now, but you aren’t. It’s just that way with Nick. You can do anything, show him anything, and you’ll still feel like the most free person to ever exist. He spreads your legs wide, and he doesn’t hesitate to go down and get a taste of you.

He licks a stripe up the expanse of your drenched pussy, makes sure to add a little bit of tongue when he gets to your clit. He thumbs the swollen button, plays with it like it’s a toy. Your back arches, his touch setting flames off on your skin and inside of you.

“Nicky, please..”

Your voice is raw from getting so harshly throat fucked, your eyes droopy and already fucked out from all the foreplay. He says nothing, instead choosing to gather up some of the precum from his cock and use two now lubed fingers to shove inside of you. Your hips soar off the mattress, the sudden stretch burning intensely, but not as much as you would’ve originally thought. You’re so wet that you’re really up for anything, at this point. You flush with embarrassment when you hear your wetness gushing around Nick’s fingers. But he looks pleased, intensely so, and bends down to press a little kiss to your clit.

“Aww, look at that,” he coos. “You’re so wet, aren’t you? Did daddy make you this wet?”

“Yesyesyesyes-“ you practically scream when he rubs your inner walls a certain way, and it makes your legs shake and makes tears stream down your cheeks. “please keep doing that, daddy. Oh my God!

You can feel your orgasm approaching, and it’s embarrassing that you’re cumming this soon. But you’re a virgin, after all. You can’t help it. And so, with a sharp intake of breath and a moan, you cum all over Nick’s fingers. He watches as your juices coat his entire hand and shirt as your legs start to convulse in pleasure. He smiles, satisfied. You just squirted all over him.

“There you go.. just like that. Good girl. Give me all of that, baby.”

When you come down it’s like you’re wiped of energy. Nick notices. His hand goes up to stroke your face.

“You have to give me one more, okay? Just one.”

You shake your head, eyes going closed, but he slaps your cheek lightly to keep you awake.

“Still need fuck you, honey. I want you to be awake when I do it. Want you to remember.”

You bite your lip, hesitant, but then you nod. He smiles, and your heart flutters as you look down at him in between your legs.

“That’s my girl.”

He adjusts your thighs, pulling your spent body towards him. His cock nudges against your entrance. It’s different from what you’ve just experienced, much more intimate and warm. So he guides himself into you, gently. It hurts, and you let out a noise of displeasure. You start to cry again, but out of pain.

“Daddy- c-can’t, ‘s too much..”

“I know you can take it, sweet girl. Don’t you want to make daddy proud?”

You hiccup, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and you whisper a small, “yes sir.”

He pushes into you for what seems like forever, and when you finally feel his pelvis pressing against your clit you jump from the stimulation. It causes you to clench down on him, and you cry out at the feeling of him losing control and thrusting into your open canal. He groans, lifting himself up with his hands to keep himself still.

“Don’t do that baby, ‘s gonna hurt you. Fuck, you’re so tiny. My cock is splitting you in two.”

Yeah, you wanted to say, like I warned you it would.

But you don’t say that, and soon his cock just feels like a lot of pressure. So when you tell Nick to move, he tries his hardest to be slow. He’s shaking, the fact of being in control of himself a new phenomenon. But when he drags himself out, slow, and then pushes himself back in, you begin to feel different. He hits that special spot again, just right, and your hips move back on him at their own accord.

“Daddy.. please. Fuck me! want it hard…”

The words spill out of your mouth quickly, your brain going haywire. Nick’s hands become bruising in their grip, and he shoves your hands over your head again and begins to pound you vigorously. Your wetness leaves a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and you look absolutely gorgeous, letting him use you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful little girl.. love having this pussy fucked, don’t you? Making daddy so proud..”

You moan loudly, his praises making more wetness drip out of you.

“Love you, daddy, love you so much!”

Nick’s hips stutter at that, and although it should be a very large milestone to cross, it feels perfectly natural, perfectly true to say, and it makes his head spin. His perfect little girl, worshipping him and his cock. You’re a dream come true.

“Holy fuck.. I love you too, sweetheart.” Your heart aches, so deeply. He loves you. Nick, the boy you’ve been completely devoted to and have worshipped the entire summer, loves you.

You can feel his thrusts speeding up, his hands bruising on your skin. ‘M gonna cum, shit-“

He twitches, flooding your sticky walls with his cum. Your hips shake, your pussy milking him dry.

“Love your cum, sir, feels s’good.” You slur. The fact that you’ve gotten riled up and haven’t came again is in the very back of your mind. Nick’s cock, his body, his devoted time and attention to you, is enough to satiate your needs. When he pulls out of you he makes sure to watch his cum drip out of your needy hole, and then rubs your clit in gentle strokes.

“just give me one more, baby. Cum for daddy one more time.”

And who are you to resist? Shaking, your brain turns to mush. Your tummy tightens and then you’re spilling again, watching as Nick looks down at you with adoration.

When you slow, his hands move up to swipe some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. You smile bashfully, watching as he lays down beside you and beckons you over to him once more. It’s peaceful, resting now in the darkness of his room. The radio is still playing, soft just as before. And when you sleep, you dream of sweet nothings.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

And then two days later, you’re being harassed by the camp’s janitor.

His name is Lloyd, and he’s older, much more so. He’s noticed you around, he says. He wants to get to know you more.

You’re uncomfortable by his offer. He’s a grown man, for christ’s sakes! And not an attractive one, at that, so why would you even attempt such a thing with him?

Of course, Nick isn’t too far behind when Lloyd starts spewing harsh words when you reject him. He pulls you behind him protectively, and begins suggesting that he call his father and tell on him. Lloyd instantly backs off, but his narrowed eyes never leave yours as he walks away.

Later that night, there’s a camp bonfire. You smile as you conversate with Nick while a bag of marshmallows between the two of you. You shove one into your mouth as you discuss Carry by Stephen King, and he agrees that it’s one of the best. Your head rests on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you. Although campers and counselors technically can’t be together, no one around really cares at the moment; they’re all too busy with their own friends to notice. You grab Nick’s hand and suggest that he take you to get more snacks from the cafeteria. He trails behind you, watching your ass bounce in the tiny skirt you’re wearing. It isn’t long before you’re buying a coke and Nick is using every excuse in the book to guide you behind the deserted building and up against the wall.

His lips press gently into your neck in a sloppy, wet kiss. Your coke is forgotten, the soft drink’s bottle sitting on the concrete beside the both of you. You fall into Nick more when he bites down softly on the spot below your ear; he’s only fucked you once, but he knows your body like the back of his hand.

You sigh, your hand grabbing his and discreetly guiding it to that warm spot in between your legs. He huffs out a laugh, watches your face contort into carnal pleasure when he rubs your clit softly.

“Needy, baby?”

“Want you..” you whine, hands gripping his shirt. “Fuck me here. Wan’ everyone to see…”

“Jesus,” he moans, your hand going down to palm his aching shaft. “Only fucked you once and I’ve already turned you into a little cockslut, huh?”

You nod as his thumb brushes over your lips in a playful manner. You bring the digit into your mouth, making sure that it hits the very back of your throat. Nick groans at that, bringing his thumb out and crashing his lips into yours. You taste like cherry coke, and from the past few days of the constant making out you guys have been doing, Nick can infer that this is just how you taste. It’s so perfect, so incredibly sweet and precious. He grabs your arms and turns you around so he can press your body against the wall behind you. His hands undo his belt, and then he’s lifting up your skirt to see your pretty cunt.

“No panties, sweetheart?”

“Just wanted to be ready for you, daddy.”

The way you say it, so giving and dedicated, makes Nick’s cock jump. When he pulls it out he presses it flush against your bare mound and slaps your lips playfully with his tip. You squirm, little pussy red and swollen.

“Love this little pussy so much, baby,” Nick coos. He rubs your clit with his length, and it makes you tremble. “Need you to beg for daddy. C’mon, be a good girl.”

You don’t even hesitate, your voice shaky and desperate. “Please! Need you so bad, daddy. Please fuck me!”

He doesn’t hesitate to shove himself inside you, then. And although the stretch still hurts, it feels better than last time and it makes you mewl as he begins to harshly pound into you. He yanks you back by your hair, your body pressed flush against him, and he uses his other hand to yank your top down and expose your tits to the night air. They scrape against the brick wall, and it the sting makes you clench around him.

“Good little bitch.. such a tight little pussy…”

And then his tone becomes darker, and he begins to put a bruising grip on your hip.

“Tommy could’ve never fucked you like this, y’know.”

The sentence catches you off guard, your body slowing its movements. But only slightly; because as fucked up as it is, Nick still turns you on. You stutter, your eyes rolling back when Nick’s cock grazes your insides perfectly.

“W-What?”

And although it seems like Nick should be ashamed or feel caught saying the thing he just said, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers reach down to rub you clit, as he chuckles darkly.

“You heard me. That little fucker. You were going to leave me for him, weren’t you?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion, tears beginning to form at the stress of his interrogation and his harsh thrusts. Nick slaps your ass harshly, watching it jiggle and move against him more.

“Answer me!”

“No! No, I only ever wanted you! I- I didn’t-“

“Good.”

His fingers slap your pussy, and then he’s rubbing your clit in harsh circles again. You practically scream, your wetness gushing down his dick.

“Now fucking cum for me.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You ignore Nick as he walks you back to his cabin.

You don’t know what else to do. How else are you supposed to react when your best friend slash lover decides to talk about a dead friend in bed?

It should upset you more than it does.

You’re freaked out, a little bit, of course. But the guilt, that pit in your stomach, isn’t as prominent as you thought it would be. And when Nick pulls you into a hug and softly asks, “stay, please?”, you can’t resist him. Will is out, you assume. Probably with a random girl or still at the bonfire.

None of that matters, right now. You turn your head when Nick tries to kiss you. He frowns, hands coming up to your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why’d you say that stuff earlier, Nick?” You ask quietly. Your nervously bounce on the balls of your feet. “That was really mean.”

He sighs, looking regretful as he takes your face into his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I shouldn’t of said that. I got carried away..“

His lips land on yours, gentle. You’re extremely tired, your limbs weak and your pussy aching from Nick’s harsh fucking. You don’t know how to feel, but the softness of Nick’s lips makes your eyes flutter shut.

“I won’t do it again,” he murmurs, as he pulls away. His thumb goes to wipe away stray mascara that had smeared on your face. “I promise. Just stay with me?”

You know it isn’t right. You know that what he said was messed up, was something you should leave him for. But you don’t. You just nod your head obediently, and join him on his bed. And when you’re trying to sleep and his length rubs up against your thigh, he asks if you want him. You say yes, and It’s true.

And when he brings himself up to your lips, you lick his cock clean, and show him your devotion.

@itsthatonegirl

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

Is there any moments when Jane almost reveals herself as Solarflare to Sammy, when protecting her (say the bullet scene from Superman 1978)

OH MY GOODNESS YES!!! so many times. i love that you specifically mentioned superman 1978, because that's actually my biggest inspiration for their dynamic!!!

sammy's pretty nosy (as reporters are LOL), so she usually winds up in trouble without even meaning to do so as she tries to gather info for her stories. she's always a bit confused as to why jane insists on tagging along...their initial relationship is actually a little rocky, because jane was just sort of dumped onto sammy to look after by her higher ups at work, and she sort of hinders her work sometimes (and sammy values her work VERY much). plus, she can be a bit too trusting of others, which sammy definitely isn't...

actually got inspired to doodle a version of the 1978 bullet scene for this au real quick!! so thank you for giving me the excuse to draw these two together LOL. also had to draw the scene right after that with the purse, because it's also a very sol thing to do. she's had a lot of close calls! but yet, somehow, sammy still has not figured it out....i'd like to think this happened pretty early on in their relationship, when sammy's just starting to come around to jane...

[raisedbyanother]

Fear Street 1978 AU: Cindy finds out about Ziggy and Nick.

[ikariokami]

Walking to School. Jason is smitten and Laurie wishes they’d just kiss already. From the One Cold Summer AU where they met as kids.

[gh0stf4ce666]

HORROR KID CHIBIS!!! :3

[weirdlybeans]

CM x Halloween x Dead By Daylight crossover

[ch703-c4rt00nst4r]

Team A

[scourgescollars]

Art for my AU Crooked Orchards, and a little info on this version of Michael. In the AU Michael is experimented on (tortured) by a doctor (neither Loomis nor Sartain) in an attempt to make Michael talk. He's most commonly electrocuted but he's gone under multiple other experiments. The electrocution has resulted in him losing vision in his left eye as well as his muscles occasionally locking up, impeding on his killing sprees. His left eye often drifts on its own but he can't see/can't see well out of it.

[duckgens]

bonus 1978 au penny, for the soul :D

[unknownmelodies]

Slasher ! band au take with OG! Michael and RZ! mickey and talking about the Myers family aswell

so as we all know both micaels have been to the sanitarium, but later had gotten out, the safe way. And later as time passed ímicael had decided to start himself a band, which went fairly well.

On his part he was having the time of his life meanwhile HIS side of the family, had been having many arguments pointing out michaels situation, they didint trust michael one bit,

not after everything that had happened, loomis was just being an extra asshole to the book trying to promote his book he wrote of michael,

he sometimes even attends his concerts just to catch him in some 'disgusting' act so he could write about it more.

Meanwhile michaels family are trying to find ways to get him back to the sanitarium,

beacuse they dont think he should even be allowed within 10 feet of a person, they are always trying to find the smallest things to argue about with him to piss him off and try to get a more aggressive reaction to show that he hadnt changed and needs to be sent back to sanitarium, along with Mickey so they couldnt continue the band.

it had gotten that bad one time that even Peepaw! myers had to step in and tell the family off to stop messing with his grandsons for once.

since then there are still arguments, but they are more.. quitted down per say, Laurie is extremely protective of Jamie when she's near Michael, so is Judith.

basically everyones still an asshole but on a smaller level.

[salmonghost]

I keep rewatching grease I’m sorry 😭😭😭… anyways erm…

PINK LADIES!

(fr tho what should their in universe name be pink ladies doesn’t really fit)

5 points to gryffindor if u can guess who sandy and danny are

[valleyfthdolls]

Michael Myers the Shape and 17-year-old Lilith "Lily" Myers Laurie Strode

Info under the cut bc this au has been rotating in my head for a while:

Takes place in 2008, 30 years after the original. Laurie's style is modeled after 2000s fashion. It did not come across but she's got a black Juicy Couture jacket, a black and yellow plaid skirt, white zebra print leggings, brown Uggs and a white skeleton graphic tee.

Laurie (Lilith at the time) and Michael were from an abusive household, with Michael (being the boy of the family and thus "able to take it") being subjected to beatings while Lily and Judie were verbally berated, put down, and Jude was often told she would never amount to anything with "how little she cared." In reality, Jude cared a lot about her future, but their dad didn't approve of her plans for it, and their mom never did anything about him aside from just yell at him that he was a terrible father and cry to her kids about how she didn't want this to be her life.

Due to the trauma of their upbringing and what Michael did, both Michael and Laurie have shed their identities as members of the Myers family, with Michael simply going by "Michael" as well as accepting the nickname of "the shape" and Laurie being completely renamed. Michael takes the extra step of trying to eliminate the entire Myers family from existence.

-ith names kind of run in the Myers family. Edith (or "Edie") was their mother, and Judith (or "Jude") and Lilith (or "Lily") were the daughters. Michael alternated between calling Edith "Mom" and "Edith", and Judith "Jude", "Judith" and "Judie", but he only ever called Lilith "Lily". Lily means "pure", whereas Lilith is the name of a demon. At the time, Michael saw Lily as the epitome of purity, and spared her life because of that. Once she grew up, though, she was no longer pure, and thus no longer worth sparing.

The name Lilith has also been described as having (checks google) an association with independent and assertive femininity which checks the box for a final girl, especially the type I imagine my Laurie as.

My Laurie is partially inspired by Maxine from X- a much less prudish final girl, removing the moral superiority of virginity or abstinance from it all.

Oh, speaking of which, the first time Laurie comes in contact with Michael, she's high off her ass on weed, so you can imagine how terrifying THAT is.

[usagirln12003]

Laxus Dreyar: Hogwarts AU

Laxus Dreyar is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 16th of April 1967 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1978, being sorted into Slytherin House.

He has a Hornbeam wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus is a Thunderbird.

His favorite subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts and his least favorite subject is Herbology.

He was one of the Slytherin Prefects of his year and later Head-Boy.

In his youth, Laxus was extremely kind, very attached to his grandfather Makarov, and greatly admired Hogwarts. This, however, changed upon his father becoming a wanted man, and Laxus' growing thought and suspicion that his fame was a result of being Makarov's grandson, and not of his own skills, made him eager to prove himself as a strong wizard in his own right.

Laxus was initially portrayed as arrogant, overbearing, selfish, and prone to make fun of his own comrades. He believed himself to be the strongest wizard ever from Slytherin House, and looked down on those he considered weak, heavily reprimanding their weakness and even resolving to hurt them whenever they stepped in his path. Laxus seemed to care very little about the other students, usually suggesting that they had to give him something in order to acquire his help; in one of such instances, when he was asked for help during the Heartfilia affair, he also proved himself to be quite lecherous, offering to help the school out only if the "big-boobed" Lucy Heartfilia had become his girlfriend and Cana Alberona had stripped before him.

Not even his trusted friends were spared of this treatment, as seen when Laxus almost hit Freed Justine with one of his jinxes for contradicting him. The only things he appeared to truly care about were the strength and reputation of Hogwarts, and he became enraged every time someone made fun of it. During his duel with Natsu Dragneel and Gajeel Redfox, he was shown entering a berserker-like state, in which he showed the most ruthless side of himself, being willing to laugh off Makarov's possibly imminent death and to annihilate not only Hogwarts, but also all of the inhabitants of Hogsmead, for his goals.

However, after his two years Azkaban sentence it appears that his attitude has changed. He seems far more light-hearted and serene, and apparently has grown fond of the school in his current state. He was also willing to take all the responsibility of the crimes for himself, in order for his friends to remain students at the school, even encouraging them for the time being. Even before his prison sentence, Freed claimed that Laxus inherited not only Makarov's magical prowess, but also his heart for caring for comrades.

Right before he turned himself in, when Makarov, alongside the majority of the Hogwarts students, silently told Laxus that he would always be watching over him right before his departure, he shed tears and was ashamed of his previous actions.

While he is a likely candidate to succeed his grandfather in taking over his seat at the Wizengamot, Makarov initially believed Laxus' intentions were not yet right, something proven right when Laxus stated that, once he had inherited leadership of his families' seat, he would have expelled all the weak students to create the strongest school in the world. This, however, seems to have changed after his time in Azkaban and "redemption," as Makarov was seen entrusting his will to him from afar after his brief confrontation with Hades.

Due to the many trips to Romania as a child, Laxus suffers from motion sickness, although he is extremely ashamed to admit it.

[imnayeonjaem]

1978. | the one who inspired me

".. they had a serious synergy."

minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked.

<- previous | 1978 masterlist | next ->

character(s): kim hongjoong, song mingi (ft. park seonghwa, jeong yunho)

tags: explicit language, sleep-deprived hj, deadline stress, caring hwa, mingi is a hero, brief reference to heteronormativity (it's the 70s..)

word count: 3.8k

summary: the time hongjoong became stressed over writing his first album and thus acquired the help of a writing partner..

a/n: apologies for this format looking different to the other chapters (editing on mobile my beloathed) but! it's here so, enjoy!

you had the pen i had the paper you rearranged my muddled thoughts into pentameter

× January, 1974 ×

The second Hongjoong welcomed in the New Year with friends both old and new at his side, he was itching to get started on his first album immediately.

Seonghwa had to pry him from the writing desk during the holidays, considering the busy couple of months he’d had touring various bars and clubs doing small gigs for an extra bit of money here and there. Take some time off over the holidays, he’d said, your notebook will still be there in the new year.

Hongjoong reluctantly listened, but that hadn’t stopped him from coming up with new lyrics and melodies and instrumentals. Nothing was going to stop him from doing that.

He called his parents over the holidays, and was going back and forth in his head over whether or not to tell them the good news.

Hongjoong knew his ma would be supportive, but his pa probably wouldn’t believe him. In fact, he didn’t think either of them would believe him until they received a legitimate copy of his first album.

At the end of his phone call, he simply told his ma that he had a huge surprise, and that they would have to wait a little while before they could be told. Girlfriend, job and winning the lottery were all the guesses his ma could make, and a nervous chuckle had escaped Hongjoong before he said that none of them were right, and that it was arguably even bigger than that. He’d also made a promise that once everything was ready, he would come back to Anyang to show them in person.

His ma was undoubtedly eager to see what the surprise was, and wished him all the best for the new year before they ended the call.

Hongjoong sat at his desk, clicking his pen on and off a few times and staring at his open notepad. He groaned then rested his forehead on the empty pages.

Seonghwa appeared in the doorway behind him. “Y’know, I can hear that noise from down the hall.”

Hongjoong merely hummed, frustrated.

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa entered the room and stood behind him. “Struggling?”

“Y- cou- s- th-,” Hongjoong mumbled into the spine of the notebook.

“Huh?”

Hongjoong lifted his head. “You could say that,” he repeated. Elbow on the desk, he planted his chin into the palm of his hand and sighed. “I have the ideas. I have all the lyrics and melodies, they’re all up here.” He waved the pen around his head. “They’re just not coming.. out.”

“Hm, you know what you should do?”

“What?” said Hongjoong, flatly.

“Carry around a tiny notepad to jot down anything that comes to your mind, no matter where you are. Inspiration strikes at such random times, you never know when something will crop up.”

Hongjoong gave him a look, “I was going to do that, but the minute I picked up a pen someone took it out of my hand and told me to give my brain a rest.”

Seonghwa looked askance, feeling mild guilt. “I only did that because you had picked up so many gigs over the last couple of months that you were frying your brain. It was in no fit state to try and conjure up song lyrics.” He glanced back down at his friend, who had since turned to gaze out of the window. With a sigh, Seonghwa sat down on the bed. “You’ve been stressed out about this album release, I just wanted to take some weight off your shoulders. I’m sorry if that curbed any of your creativity.”

Hongjoong heard the slight shakiness in Seonghwa’s voice and looked over at him. Seonghwa’s eyes were downturned and his lips were in a straight line. “It’s okay, don’t feel bad. I appreciate that you wanted me to rest over the holidays. And you didn’t curb my creativity.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry if that’s how it came across.”

Seonghwa glanced up. “You put so much pressure on your shoulders. I just didn’t want you to fall at the first hurdle before you even had a chance to get over it. I just wanted you to enter this new year feeling refreshed and ready to take on this challenge.”

Hongjoong’s heart lurched in his chest. He knew that he could be hard on himself, he just didn’t realise how hard he could be until there was a consistent presence in his life telling him to take the weight off from time to time. Seonghwa was that presence. And if anything, it helped him. “I know, I know, I understand that. I’m sorry, and thank you.” He gave a small smile, and Seonghwa returned it, though something wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. “And hey, that idea about the tiny notepad sounds like a really good one. I think I’ll take you up on it.”

Something lit up in Seonghwa’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You’re right, too, inspiration can strike at any time. I think I just need to get out of my own head and see the world.” He gazed out of the window, wistfully. The view mainly consisted of grey office towers and roads, but there was life out there. There were so many places to explore, so many things he could write about.

So many places to draw inspiration from.

Seonghwa leaned forward, “And.. maybe you could consider getting a writing partner?”

Hongjoong stilled. He turned to Seonghwa. “A writing partner?”

“Yeah! Someone to bounce ideas off of. Another talented songwriter like yourself.”

Hongjoong scoffed at that comment, but the idea started turning somersaults in his head. A writing partner. Why had he never thought of that before?

Hongjoong knew why he hadn’t thought of that before. He worked alone. Not that he was against the idea of teamwork, but when it came to his music, his songs, his lyrics, he didn’t know if he could trust anyone else.

Seonghwa sat back, noticing the change in expression on Hongjoong’s face. “Just.. think about it, is all I’m saying. Might be worth it.” He stood up and left the room without another word.

Hongjoong didn’t move for a time, until his eyes flickered to the window.

This time, he saw his reflection.

Could he trust another person with his words?

He closed the curtains, closed the notepad, then took his notepad and pen and left the room.

As he shut the door, he spotted ink on his hands.

With a single hum, he shut off the pen.

“Seonghwa? I’m going out for a bit.”

With a simple acknowledgement from Seonghwa, he left the apartment.

He needed some air.

×-×

Taking long brisk walks had often been the key to inspiration for Hongjoong.

Wrapped up warm in his winter coat, gloves on to protect his hands, he strolled in the aftermath of a blizzard that had swept over Seoul the previous night, leaving a blanket of flakes over the pavements, roads and parked cars.

Not many people were out and about in this weather. The few who were out chose to stay sheltered under canopies, or, like Hongjoong, actually enjoyed roaming through the snow, letting the crisp winter breeze sweep over them. Hongjoong kept his eyes trained on the ground and watched as his shoes became buried in the snow every so often. He kicked off the dust with each layer, and smiled to himself whenever the little particles collected at the toes.

A writing partner. Hongjoong couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He didn’t have the first clue on where to even find a writing partner. Was there one in-house at the label? Hongjoong figured he could ask Yeosang if there were any songwriters on the team, there were surely a few he could get assistance from.

Perhaps Hongjoong could outsource a songwriter. Put an ad in the local newspaper for a writing partner. But then he would have to weigh up the pay rate; there was no way he could ask a writer to work for free.

There were too many things to consider with this one suggestion. Hongjoong was just starting to learn how many.

i trusted you with my heart you held it delicately over the page i was so unsure but you assured we were a team and look at us we lasted an age

One song. That was all Hongjoong had managed to write in the days since 1974 began.

He would call it an accomplishment - and it was - if he wasn’t so disheartened at himself for the lack of progress he had made.

Swamped with the reality of needing to come up with five new songs, the other three being his demo tracks which were to be re-recorded for official release, Hongjoong found himself scrunching up more pieces of paper than he was actually writing on.

Seonghwa didn’t disturb him most days, and only knocked on his door once in a while to make sure he had eaten, or stayed hydrated, or used the bathroom, or hell even slept. Seonghwa could count on more than one hand the amount of times he had seen Hongjoong slumped over his desk snoring, and with all due respect to his stubborn friend, it was not a pretty sight.

The dozenth time he found Hongjoong in that position, head plastered on his notebook with the pen almost falling out of his hand, he sauntered over to the drowsy man and gently tapped his shoulder three times.

Hongjoong hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour, but it was a deep enough slumber to startle him awake. “Hng- huh- wha-” He shook off some of the cobwebs and rubbed his eyes. Seonghwa didn’t have the heart to nag. “What’s.. Huh.. Oh, hi Seonghwa.” Leaning back in his chair, Hongjoong yawned wide and loud, which set Seonghwa off. “Ah, sorry..”

“No, it’s okay..”

“What time is it?” mumbled Hongjoong, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk as if he were to pick up where he left off.

“Quarter-past two.” Hongjoong hummed, thinking that’s not too bad, quarter-past two in the aftern- “In the morning.”

Hongjoong sat bolted upright. “In the morning?” he exclaimed in a whisper.

“Yes..” Seonghwa exhaled.

“God, have I really been asleep that long?” Hongjoong covered his face with both hands and groaned.

“No, you’ve really been working that late,” Seonghwa corrected. “You really ought to get some sleep, Joong-ah.”

“Gah.” It took Hongjoong a few seconds to consider getting up, and then when he started considering it took him a few more seconds to actually do it. He grimaced at the thought of needing to move around and do things in order to get into bed, and his bed was so tempting that he could just crawl inside without a second’s notice..

“You are not going to bed like that.”

Hongjoong cursed Seonghwa sometimes for how attentive he was and how all-knowing he seemed to be. He reminded him of ma. Hongjoong missed her a lot. He missed pa a lot, too, even if he was a nuisance at times.

His heart nearly sank out of nowhere. Seonghwa has only ever been trying to help.

Looking up at his friend, Hongjoong smiled. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”

Hongjoong breathed in, then out. Yeah, he was okay. Tired, exhausted perhaps. Stressed, a little. Needing a little encouragement, absolutely. But he was okay.

“Yeah. I’m just thankful.”

Seonghwa’s face became neutral.

Hongjoong explained further, “Thankful for you. And everyone else who’s come into my life.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Always here, Joong-ah. Now, get some rest.”

Hongjoong nodded. He would follow Seonghwa’s instruction and do all the things he needed to to have a good night’s rest.

When it was finally time to clamber in, he turned to Seonghwa and asked, “Hey, do you know what day it is tomorrow? I seriously feel like I’m losing track of time.” A half-chuckle escaped him.

Seonghwa’s eyes darted around in thought before they landed back on Hongjoong, “February 1st.”

Hongjoong froze in place. Already?

With that settled, Seonghwa kindly bid him goodnight then went into his own room. Hongjoong did so too, then retired for the night and clambered into bed.

A new month, he thought, not long now before I need to present all the material I’ve written.

He closed his eyes. He thought for a while. He drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, he would look for a writing partner.

× February, 1974 ×

When in doubt, call your best friend.

Hongjoong was well and truly at a brick wall; what better way to knock it down than ask your lifelong friend for advice?

When the dial tone finished ringing, Yunho’s voice sounded through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey, Yunho, it’s me, Hongjoong.”

“Oh, hey, Hongjoong! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “Well, first of all, how are you doing?”

“Not too bad, not too bad. Swamped with work, as always, but I manage it. Yourself?”

With a sigh, Hongjoong answered. “A little stressed.”

“Uh-oh. Songwriting stress?”

Hongjoong sighed. Yunho always seemed to know what was wrong straight away. “Right on the money.” Yunho went silent for a while, seemingly pondering this dilemma. Hongjoong continued, “I’ve been keeping Seonghwa up lately. I think he’s legitimately worried about my wellbeing, ha.”

“Not surprised. I’ve seen you at peak stress levels. I had to physically pull your assignments away from you.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Well, Seonghwa said something to me the other day and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” Yunho left a curious pause open for Hongjoong to elaborate. “He said I should get a writing partner.”

Yunho went silent again for a time. “A writing partner, you say?”

“Yeah. He reckons it would be good to have someone I can bounce ideas off of, but I’ve been hesitant.”

“Hmm.” Yunho mentally paced back and forth, until a brilliant idea popped into his head. “Wait! I think I’ve got the perfect person!”

Hongjoong was taken aback. His eyes widened. “Wait, you do?”

Yunho beamed. He did a small dance. “I know exactly who could help.”

Hongjoong didn’t know what to say. His mouth was agape. “..Who?”

“Remember I told you that my mum had met a woman over the holidays and became good friends with her?” Hongjoong hummed. “Well, her son had dropped out of uni to pursue songwriting and music production. His name’s Mingi. I’ve only spoken to him a few times but he’s a really chill person. I told him about you, and that you’re about to release your first album, and he said if you ever wanted any tips, he’d be glad to help!”

Hongjoong couldn’t believe it. This could be the perfect solution.

A thousand questions flooded his mind. What if they didn’t gel? What if Mingi’s style was completely different to his? What if their ideas clashed to the point they couldn’t come up with something together?

Hongjoong knew the only way he’d find out was if he met Mingi in person.

With that, he only had one question left to ask.

“Can he make it to Seoul?”

×-×

As Hongjoong stood outside the train station, Seonghwa to his right, he steadily grew more nervous about this first meeting.

Seonghwa aimed to calm his nerves, but he didn’t know if he was succeeding much.

“I’d trust Yunho’s judgement that Mingi is a chill person, as he says. Why would Yunho think to introduce the two of you if he wasn’t dead certain that you’d work well together?”

“Yunho’s an optimist,” said Hongjoong, instantly. He did then work back this statement a little. “Not to say that I don’t trust Yunho’s judgement, y’know. I know he only has the best of intentions and that he suggested Mingi as a suitable writing partner because he knows my style and that the two of us would be a great team.” Hongjoong sounded ambitiously hopeful through the thin veil of posing these statements as fact.

Seonghwa saw through him, but understood all the same that Hongjoong wouldn’t try and question his closest friend’s discernment.

A few minutes passed, and the two of them saw a pair of men leaving the train station.

“Oh,” Hongjoong blurted, “that’s them.”

He began making his way over to the entrance, trying to flag the two men down. Yunho and Mingi eventually looked over, and a bright smile appeared on Yunho’s face. Similarly, Mingi looked more than pleased to be there, and followed Yunho like a puppy on his tail.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa met the pair in the middle, and once Hongjoong and Yunho were standing toe to toe, they shared a brief hug before Yunho introduced the man beside him. “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, meet Mingi.”

Mingi bowed his head, before reaching out to shake Hongjoong’s hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

Mingi was roughly the same height as Yunho, with long, messy ash brown hair that fell in front of his eyes. He was dressed similarly to Hongjoong, band shirt with jeans and an oversized denim jacket on top. There were a few beaded bracelets on both wrists, and a peace sign necklace sitting proudly on his chest. Hongjoong wondered where he got it from.

He returned the gesture, and Seonghwa followed suit. The four of them exchanged smiles before Hongjoong openly suggested they go to a local café to talk.

What followed was an hour of pleasant conversation, leading to the whole reason Mingi came to Seoul in the first place.

“So, Yunho tells me you’re looking for a writing partner for your first album,” said Mingi, already interested.

Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been struggling a lot.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, almost embarrassed to admit it.

Mingi sensed this and put his worries to rest. “Don’t feel embarrassed. Writing is hard. I’ve struggled with my own work. It’s not an easy feat, especially when you have to come up with a bunch of songs on a time crunch.”

Time crunch. Something flickered in Hongjoong’s mind. The deadline was the main part of the problem. He could’ve broken down.

Mingi’s lips turned upwards. “But don’t panic. Tomorrow, we’ll meet back here, get some caffeine in us and have a good writing session.”

Seonghwa mirthfully objected to the second idea. “Please, no more caffeine for this one, I don’t think his body can take anymore.”

Hongjoong awkwardly covered his face as the others chuckled. “Alright,” Mingi agreed, “no caffeine. But if you can meet me here midday tomorrow,” he said to Hongjoong, “we’ll get some writing done.”

Hongjoong uncovered his face, a smile hiding behind his hand. “You sure?”

Mingi nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

They exchanged an earnest look before Yunho leaned over the table and declared, “Well, that’s settled! Another round?”

“Why not,” Seonghwa replied, “and seriously, no caffeine for this one.”

×-×

The pair had been in the café for nearly two hours.

There were loose bits of sheet music everywhere - one of the first things Hongjoong learned about Mingi was that he played the piano and guitar and could read sheet music - along with empty cups of iced tea and decaf coffee.

Mingi had a good sense of humour. He spun nearly everything Hongjoong said into something witty and it had the rockstar doubling over in laughter every five minutes. Between all the serious moments, there were times Hongjoong had to clutch his own stomach as it hurt so much from guffawing.

But, most astonishingly, in the two hours they had spent together, Mingi had helped him write three new songs.

After another round of chuckling at some new in-joke they’d come up with, Hongjoong took a deep breath and let the moment sit for a while.

He stared at the three new songs on the table. There were scribbles and random notes and arrows coming off of different words to jot down some extra bit of information one of them deemed was pertinent, but one thing was clear: they had a serious synergy.

Mingi was certain the minute they both sat down: I don’t wanna take anything away from your message. I wanna add to it.

Hongjoong was so concerned any writing partner he’d end up with would twist and turn his words into something completely different, fashion them into another creation so precisely that it could never be called his own.

But Mingi was not like that.

Any line he came up with, Mingi helped build its core. Any word he thought stuck out like a sore thumb, Mingi flipped into something more concise. Any heart he put down on the page, Mingi made sure he doubled it.

Hongjoong had tired of the nights he spent stuck at his desk fretting over the deadline that was not-so-subtly approaching.

Partway through this writing session, he simply broke down and cried. Mingi listened to every one of his worries, offering him a shoulder and allowing him to let it all go.

Mingi was choked up to know Hongjoong had grown to trust him.

Once the third song was written, he almost sunk in on himself and said, “Y’know, if you ever feel like I’m doing too much or that I’m stepping all over your toes, tell me and I’ll rein it in.”

But Hongjoong was adamant. At no point in this writing session had Mingi been anything else apart from kind, encouraging and supportive.

He didn’t know why he was so worried. He knew Yunho would never let him down like this.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong began, his voice thick with sincerity, “for the last month or so I have had the worst time with writing these songs. You have seriously swooped in and saved the day, you are quite literally my hero!”

Mingi smiled sheepishly, his face warm. “I’m just a writer.”

Hongjoong drew back in shock. “That is not true! You are more than just a writer, you are-” He struggled to think of the words. “You have literally taken all my shit and made it incredible!”

Now it was Mingi’s turn to look on in horror. “Hongjoong, you need to be kinder to yourself.”

That remark made Hongjoong’s spine collapse in on itself. He glanced up at Mingi.

“You are an awesome writer. Yunho showed me your demo tape and it was amazing. Not just how you play but the way you write, and the things you’ve got to say. You need to have more confidence in your writing abilities because, genuinely,” Mingi put his hand on his heart to cement this comment, “you have a skill for this shit.”

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat and turned back to the sheets of paper on the table. “I would never have got this far if it wasn’t for you.”

Mingi looked back and forth between Hongjoong and the pages he was staring at, before finally looking at Hongjoong again.

“I wouldn’t have had the final meal without the ingredients.”

Hongjoong turned back to him. They shared a smile.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

“I think I know what I want the fourth song to be about.”

Mingi’s smile widened. “Tell me.”

i called you my hero and that’s never been a lie i called you my hero and that’s never been a lie

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