#and his whole sixth sense music thing

[sai-int]

TICKET TO PLAY | john price

Sheriff Price has a habit of pulling you over, and you have a habit of seeing how far you can push him. It’s a game you've been playing for years—a harmless one, until he gives you exactly what you’ve been asking for.

⤿ based on this | [ AO3 ]

18+ AU, fem!reader, small town vibes, porn with minimal plot, smut, oral (m receiving), dom!john (back and forth between hard and soft), bratty—sort of pathetic reader, fingering, squirting, public sex, smidge of voyeurism, size kink if you really read the fine print, implied slight age gap [ 6.6k words ]

You weren’t going that fast.

Maybe nudging 35 in a 25, but the road was empty—just you and the soft, golden light of a July evening slipping into dusk. The cicadas hummed their lazy symphony, crickets chirping in harmony, while the air carried the scent of fresh-cut grass and summer warmth. It was the kind of night that wrapped around you like a blanket, slow and sweet, the kind that made you want to roll the windows down and let the world drift by.

But then the sirens sliced through the calm, sharp and jarring, shattering the stillness. Red and blue lights flashed in your rearview, splashing the road ahead in a chaotic swirl of color. Your hands tightened on the wheel, that familiar knot twisting in your gut. You didn’t even need to check the mirror to know who it was.

Sheriff John Price.

The small-town Sheriff (asshole) that had a sixth sense for catching you when you weren’t even doing anything wrong. The guy who’d written you up for a rolling stop at an empty intersection, or a right on red at 2 a.m. when the streets were dead silent. Sure, maybe you were five over on a straight stretch of road, but come on—did he really have nothing better to do than hassle you over that? It was starting to feel like he was just looking for excuses to pull you over.

At this point, you figured you were practically on a first-name basis. Hell, you were probably the most frequent flyer on his ticket roster. But that was the trade-off for living in a town where the sheriff knew everyone’s business—and apparently, yours most of all.

You eased the rickety old Nissan Skyline to a crawl, tires screeching softly as you pulled onto the shoulder and shifted into park. Your fingers moved on autopilot, fishing the registration out of the center console before he even asked. If John Price had one talent, it was knowing where you were before you did—and you’d learned the hard way to keep things within arm’s reach.

The music blared for a second longer before you killed the volume, the sudden silence pressing down on the summer night like a weight. You rolled down the window, letting the warm, sticky air flood the cabin, thick with the scent of grass and distant rain. Leaning back in your seat, one hand resting lazily on the wheel, you waited. Same old song and dance.

First came the slam of his cruiser door, sharp and final, like he was already annoyed at the prospect of dealing with you. Then the crunch of his boots on the asphalt—slow, deliberate, each step dragging out the inevitable. It was almost comical, the way he took his time, like he wasn’t the one who’d flipped on the lights and sirens.

The window hissed as it rolled down, the sound jarring in the quiet, and before you could stop yourself, a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. You didn’t bother hiding it this time. If you were walking away thirty dollars lighter, you might as well make it entertaining.

"Evenin’, John," you drawl, letting the words hang in the air with a playful edge that makes his jaw tighten.

He leans in, his arms braced against the window frame like he owns the whole damn road. His face is all sharp lines and shadows in the fading light, the faint scent of cigarettes and worn leather wrapping around you, mingling with the heavy, humid air of the summer night.

“Don’t call me John,” he grumbles, his voice rougher than usual, like gravel under tires.

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a grin. “Why not?” you tease, letting your fingers trail lazily along the steering wheel. “Thought we were friends, John.” You bat your lashes, adding a pout for good measure, laying it on thick just to see how far you can push him this time

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even blink. His eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he leans in closer, his presence crowding you. “We aren’t ‘friends,’” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “You know why I pulled you over?”

It’s not really a question—it’s a challenge, and you can’t help but rise to it. You tilt your head, letting your gaze linger on him, your smirk widening. “Hmm… maybe ‘cause you’re a sucker for a pretty car?” you suggest, your tone dripping with sarcasm, sweet enough to sting.

John’s lips press into a thin line, but the subtle shift in his posture tells you everything you need to know. His gaze is unrelenting, sharp enough to cut through the cool facade you’re trying so hard to maintain. Internally, he’s fighting not to laugh—you can see it in the way his shoulders tense, like he’s holding back a cackle.

“If this—” he steps back, his eyes sweeping over the exterior of your car with deliberate slowness before landing back on you, “—is your idea of a ‘pretty car,’ I might have to issue you a ticket for driving without glasses.”

You lean back in your seat, arms crossing over your chest, your mouth hanging open in mock offense. Just because Fergie was old didn’t mean she was ugly. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an ass?”

He stands there for a moment, just watching you, his expression unreadable. It’s like he’s weighing how much more of this he’s willing to put up with. Finally, he tilts his head, his voice dry as dust. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a brat?”

“Touché.”

You two had been here before. Over and over again. Ever since you’d come back home from college, he’d been hot on your trail—always showing up at the worst possible moments, right when you thought you might’ve gotten away with it.

This was your town. You’d grown up here, knew every road, every corner, every face. It was small, sure, but it was yours. And then John Price showed up. Sparkling, brand new hot-shot sheriff, fresh off the Mayflower. Sworn in by all the touch-starved wives and swooned over by every teenage girl in a fifty-mile radius. Ever since he’d arrived, it was like Elvis all over again

You figured he didn’t have the right to boss the locals around like he owned the place. No shiny badge or gun on his hip was going to earn him any respect from you. This wasn’t some big city where the badge meant everything. Out here? You could be just as stubborn as he was.

Still, he had a knack for showing up when you least expected it, always lurking in the background, keeping an eye on you for reasons you couldn’t quite figure out. No one could explain it, but there he was, always hovering like you were some kind of problem. But you never did anything wrong. Not really.

“I bet you 50 bucks there’s about five disgruntled teens smoking pot under the high school bleachers as we speak,” you say, leaning back in your seat with a grin tugging at your lips. “Surely, they deserve your devotion and attention more than little ol’ me.”

He pauses, clearly weighing your words, and you can see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. “I don’t want your money,” he mutters, his tone dry but with a hint of amusement—and something else you can’t quite place. “Besides, I doubt you’ve got 50 dollars to spare, considering how often you’re in the precinct paying off tickets.” He leans in just a little, his gaze sharp, like he’s daring you to argue.

You shrug, playing the part, even though you know he’s right. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re wasting your time with me. I’m practically a model citizen. Those kids under the bleachers, though? They could be causing all kinds of trouble.”

You give him a sidelong glance, letting the playful challenge hang in the air between you. “I’m just trying to help you out here, Sheriff.”

Your tone is sweet—too sweet—and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out whether you’re messing with him or just being your usual self.

He takes a slow breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. His hand pinches the bridge of his nose before he exhales, the sound heavy with exasperation. “Oh, I’m sure you are,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big help, givin’ me that advice.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, your voice dripping with mock sincerity. “What can I say, Sheriff? Someone’s gotta make your job worthwhile.”

For a moment, the world seems to narrow to just the two of you. The air grows heavy, charged with something you can’t quite name, and the silence stretches taut between you. But then the faint hum of a car engine cuts through the stillness, tires rolling past on the asphalt—a sharp reminder that you’re not alone out here.

“Step out of the car.” His voice is calm, steady, but there’s a flicker of something darker beneath the surface, a low undercurrent that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your jaw tightens, anger flaring hot and sudden in your chest. He’s never asked you to step out of the car before, and the demand catches you off guard. You can’t afford to be arrested—not with a shift at the diner at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, not with the way your life is already balanced on a knife’s edge. The thought of cuffs, of being hauled into the precinct, makes your stomach churn.

But you don’t move. Not yet. Instead, you meet his gaze, your own sharp and defiant, and for a heartbeat, the two of you are locked in a silent standoff.

You don’t say a word, just reach down to unclick your seatbelt with an indignant sigh, movements slow—like dragging out the inevitable might change the outcome. The latch pops, the sound too loud in the quiet, and you open the door, letting the evening air rush in, cool against the heat prickling at your skin.

You step out, tugging your shorts down where they’ve ridden up, keeping your gaze on the ground, on the cracks in the pavement, anywhere but at him. You try to keep your breathing steady, try to act like this is just another bullshit stop, just another way for him to waste your time and break your wallet. But your heart’s already racing, faster than you want it to.

Then his hand is on your hip.

Firm. Unmoving. Not quite guiding, not quite restraining. Just there. A weight that lingers, like a silent reminder that he’s the one in control here, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise.

For a second, you freeze.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches you. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, charged with something you don’t want to name.

You swallow, still refusing to look at him. “Gonna write me a bullshit ticket, John?” Your voice is casual, flippant—too much so. You know it, and so does he.

He doesn’t answer right away, and that makes it worse.

Because the truth is, you’d rather he just do it. Write the damn ticket, hand you the fine, and send you on your merry way. That would be easy. It’d be normal.

But nothing about him has ever been easy. And this? Whatever this is? It sure as hell isn’t normal.

His fingers tighten—just slightly—but it’s enough. Enough for you to catch it, that flicker of something dark and barely restrained. His jaw tightens, his nostrils flare, and you realize he’s at his limit.

Like he’s weighing his options. Like he’s wondering if he should just give you the damn ticket and walk away. 

You tilt your chin up, finally meeting his gaze, like a challenge. Would he?

His voice is tight when he finally speaks, low and strained, every word biting through the air.

"You think this is a game?"

You pause, letting the question linger as you ponder. Is it a game? Is that what this has always been? This back-and-forth, this constant chase—where you go about your life, minding your business, and he shows up, lurking, watching, like he’s got nothing better to do than make you his personal problem.

Would he really arrest you? Pin you against his cruiser and throw you in the back? Take you downtown like you’re some criminal? The thought sends a slow, involuntary shiver down your spine, but the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds. If he was going to do it, it would’ve happened already.

He’s just a big softie. A stubborn, gruff, self-righteous pain in the ass who acts like he’s got the whole town in a chokehold but has spent too many years shadowing you for it to be a coincidence.

And deep down, you reckon he must have some sick, weird crush if the only way he can muster up the courage to see you is by stuffing a white slip of paper under your windshield wiper, like he can’t even be bothered to have a conversation without the safety of bureaucracy to hide behind.

You don’t even have to think about it anymore. 

This is a game.

You keep your gaze steady, watching him. Watching the way he’s fighting to maintain that authority, to keep control. And through the harsh headlights from his car, it’s almost cute—the way his jaw tightens, the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly, the way his fingers twitch against your hip like he’s waging a war with himself. Like he thinks he can win.

But he can’t.

Not really.

His grip on you tightens, fingers pressing deeper, slipping beneath soft flesh to squeeze the bone. Like he’s trying to ground himself. Like he thinks if he just holds on tight enough, he can remind himself who’s in charge here.

But you see it—the shift in his expression, the cracks forming right in front of you. His eyes are darker now, narrowed with something he’s still pretending isn’t there, and his teeth grit like it physically pains him to keep standing here.

You just can’t resist.

You lean in just enough, close enough that your breath tickles his cheek, and with a slow, knowing smirk, you whisper, “You’ve been dying to get your hands on me, haven’t you, John?”

The words hang between you, sharp and saccharine, and for a moment, it’s like the world holds its breath.

His eyes go dark, that flicker of anger flashing through them like a warning. But it’s not just anger anymore. It’s something else, something raw. For a split second, you’re certain he’s off the deep end.

Before you can even blink, his hand moves. It’s fast, and suddenly, he’s grabbing you by the arm, yanking you toward him with a force that steals the breath from your lungs.

“Get over here,” he growls.

The words are rough, guttural, scraping against his throat like he’s been holding them back for too long.

The next thing you know, he’s dragging you to the hood of his cruiser, his grip tight and bruising as his fingers wrap around your wrist, effortlessly dwarfing it. The cold metal of the hood bites against your skin as he shoves you down, bending you over the car.

And then he’s on you.

His chest is solid heat against your back, his weight pressing you into the hood like he’s making sure you stay there. Your breath catches, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven movements as you try to process just how quickly the shift between you has turned into this.

“Talk so fuckin’ much,” he mutters through clenched teeth, his voice a growl of frustration and something deeper, something rougher. His breath fans against your ear, hot and unsteady, sending a shiver down your spine.

One hand clamps over your wrists, holding them firm against the small of your back, while the other tangles in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose the vulnerable line of your throat.

The grip is possessive. Unforgiving, like he’s staking a claim.

“You think you can just keep pushing me? Keep fuckin’ with me like this, hmm?”

A soft whimper tumbles from your lips, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip, the rest of the sound dying in your throat. His hand pulls on your hair, making your neck arch back, and the sharp tug sends a jolt straight to your cunt. You try to choke back the reaction, but it’s impossible—the way he’s holding you, the way he’s pressing into you with every word, every move.

His body presses into yours, the intensity of it all making your pulse race. Despite everything, despite the situation, a shiver runs down your spine. You can tell he’s holding back by the way his teeth grit, the sharpness in his voice. 

You smirk, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze from the side. “By the way John Jr’s more sprung than a rainy day in April, I’d say you like it,” he groans and you chuckle, “You do like it, don’t you, John?”

The words slip from your lips, taunting him, and you can feel the shift in his posture before he even moves. His grip on your hair tightens, pulling you back further, forcing you to arch your neck more as he leans in, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, each exhale brushing over you like a warning.

“Think you’ve got me figured out?” he growls, teeth grazing the curve of your ear, his words a promise and a threat all at once. “Since you’re so fuckin’ knowledgeable, tell me something…”

Your pulse quickens, the anticipation like the loaded gun in his waistband. “Tell you what?” you ask, your voice quiet, almost breathless, but your eyes never leave his.

“Tell me what I do t’dumb girls that don’t know how t’speak only when spoken to,” he murmurs, his grip shifting, pulling you in closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. 

You can feel his cock twitch with interest in his jeans, and instinctively, you roll your hips back into his. The firm bulge presses against your pulsating cunt, offering just the smallest bit of reprieve from the ache in your clit and you can’t help but whimper. “You give them a ticket and send them on their way?”

“Nice try, love,” he says, the words dripping with disappointment, like he’s genuinely let down by your guess.

Before you can even react, his hand leaves your hair, and you hear the cold click of the cuffs snapping around your wrists.

You jerk against the restraint, but it’s useless. You turn to look up at him, but the look on his face—hands on his hips, blue eyes locked on you—makes you stop.

No smirk, no joke. Just intensity.

“Get on your knees,” he says, voice low, rough, without hesitation.

You bite your lip, the urge to snap back hitting you. But instead, you swallow it down and push yourself up, kneeling before him on the pavement. The roughness of it bites into your skin, the cuffs digging into your wrists, each pull reminding you of just how much control he has in this situation.

His boot taps lightly against your thigh, the sound sharp in the quiet air, a silent demand for your attention. You glance up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch. It’s a look that makes your pulse quicken, as if he can see right through you, into everything you’re trying to shovel deep..

“Sit,” he commands, the word simple, authoritative.

It takes you a second to realize what he means, but when his boot nudges against your clothed cunt, you get it. 

You lift your hips slow, like you’re not sure but can’t help it, settling atop his boot. The sensation makes a shiver run up your spine. His fingers find your hair again, firm, enough to tilt your head back and make you look up at him.

“This’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it, dove?” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, like he’s savoring the sight of you—knees to the ground, wrists bound, eyes wide as you stare up at him. He can’t help but palm himself at the sight.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, heat simmering in your cheeks with anticipation. “I’m not gonna beg,” you sneer, defiant like your cunt isn’t already drooling for him. The lie sits thick on your tongue, heavy enough to choke on.

He smirks—slow like he’s amused, but there’s something else there, like he’s already decided how he’ll play with you.

“That’s cute,” his fingers tighten in your hair, tilting your head back just a little further. Your lips part on instinct, a quiet, pained mewl slipping out before you can stop it.

“but you will,” he hums with a smile so saccharine, it makes you want to smack it off his face. His free hand reaches for his belt, fumbling with the leather as he pulls it out of the buckle. You can feel your body buzzing with anticipation, the tension building in every nerve of your body. Everything in your mind is screaming at you, telling you how wrong this is, how this can’t happen. But deep down, you know he’s right. This has been a long time coming.

But fuck, he’s a literal cop, the Sheriff. This has to fall under some public indecency law.

But despite everything, despite all the warnings your mind throws at you, the pull is stronger, too real to ignore. And you can’t stop yourself from leaning into it.

He peels down the zipper of his blue slacks and the sound echoes in your ears. You’re on your knees on the shoulder of a road, the last vestiges of daylight fading, and God help you, your mouth waters when you see the outline of his solid cock through his boxers.

He doesn't break eye contact, his other hand still tight in your hair, daring you to even try to look away. The recklessness, the sheer audacity of him whipping out his cock in the middle of a traffic stop. It’s all so palpable, like a stack of weights on your chest. He tugs down his boxers in one fluid movement, his cock springing free, and you can’t help but try to back away at the sight. 

He's massive in every sense of the word. Dark curls trail from his navel to the base of him, thick but neatly kept. His cock hangs low and heavy between his legs, thick and long with a few veins and just the softest blush of pink at his tip. There’s no way you can take him all, let alone in your mouth. 

He could see the shift in your eyes, the sudden apprehension in your demeanor, and the hand in your hair loosened. He trailed his fingers from your scalp to your cheek, his thumb wandering to the plump flesh of your parted lips.

“You can say no, dove. I won’t hold it against you,” he says softly, giving you an out. His blue eyes soften as they meet yours, and you know he wouldn’t force you. But the way the hard leather of his boot presses through your shorts, firm against your clit, has you fighting the urge to grind against him. You want—No, need him. Badly.

You bow your head to meet his cock, tongue darting out, hungrily swiping up the drop of precum dangling from his tip. He automatically groans and his hands find their way back to your scalp, feeding his cock into your mouth. Your lips tighten around him immediately, suckling as he presses in and stretches you out. 

“Fuck— that’s it, love, so fuckin’ tight,” he babbles as he watches his length disappear in your mouth over and over. His eyes flutter shut as he tips his head back—he knew if he looked at you any longer he’d blow his load too soon. Your tongue is just so hot. He hadn’t expected it to be ice, but God you were sweltering. He nestled himself in the back of your throat so nicely, tickling and toying with your gag reflex each time you bobbed your head. You coat his length with slick spit, the sounds of your gags subconsciously making him push your head down even further. 

You focus on steady breaths through your nose as his grip tightens. Your hands strain against the cuffs, aching to touch, to feel, to at least stroke where your mouth can’t reach. So pretty like this, he thinks. The way you look up at him, defiant yet desperate. The way your breath catches and your throat flutters around his mushroomed tip.

It drives him crazy—how much he wants to break that control, to make you lose it completely. His groans only spur you on further, your tongue moving with purpose, tracing the prominent vein along his underside.

Your hips jerk against his boot as spit gathers at the corners of your mouth, knees grinding into the asphalt, but you barely notice the sting. All you can think about is the way it makes heat pool in your cunt—sends sparks up your spine. 

You can’t help it—your hips keep moving, grinding against his boot, the rough leather driving you wild, and you’re sure you’re leaving a wet spot. The friction is delicious, and you’re so lost in it that you almost miss when he speaks.

 “Look at you,” he says, smirking despite how badly he needs to cum. “Can’t even help yourself, can you? Just a needy little mutt, humpin’ my boot.”

His hand tugs your strands, not rough but firm, just enough to make you gasp. “Just need your pretty pussy touched, that right?” he tuts softly, pulling you off him, a thin strand of saliva connecting your glistening lips to the tip of his cock.  “On your feet, come on.” He guides you up, your legs shaky and chest heaving but his grip steadies you. “There you go, sweetheart.”

The sky’s a deep blue now, the sun long gone, the cruiser’s headlights casting faint shadows. He shoves you back against the hood, the metal cool against the backs of your thighs. His hands are on you immediately, rough and demanding, squeezing your thighs, your tits, like he’s marking his territory. 

You bite your lip, trying to steady your breathing, but it’s useless. His fingers dig into your flesh, and your hips jerk instinctively, craving more. “So quiet now, hm?” he hums, his face centimeters from yours. “What happened to that smart little mouth of yours?”

The way he switches from caring to being so dominant, it makes your head spin. You glare at him, but he doesn’t care. His hand slides under the waistband of your shorts, fingers dancing over your soaked panties, and you can’t stop the way your hips roll into his hand, desperate for any touch he’ll give. “All this for me, sweet girl?” he mutters, middle finger slowly circling your sensitive clit, “All wound up, yeah? Need me to set you straight?”

“Fuck—,” you whine, your hips bucking into his hand, you can feel his breath against your lips as he chuckles. He deftly pulls your panties to the side, groaning when his fingers slide through your folds. His lips find your neck and he mouths at the sensitive patch of skin above your pulse, sucking a dark, red splotch into your skin as if you’re his. 

You instinctively toss your head back, letting him lick hot, wet stripes from your clavicle to your jaw. He slips a single finger into you and your cunt squelches embarrassingly. 

“Feels so good, John—,” you whine into the evening breeze as he pumps his finger in you, curling to hit your g-spot with precision you’ve never experienced. He smiles against your skin before enveloping your lips with his.

It’s hungry, messy, and desperate. His tongue crowds your mouth trying to drink you whole, like he’s been parched, waiting for you to quench his thirst since he first met you. He swallows your whines and pleas for more as he works you open, grinning when he slips in his ring finger alongside the middle and you gasp.

It’s a pathetic attempt, really, to kiss him back—to try to match his fervor. He has you at his mercy and you’re near collapsing into him as he finger fucks you, low heat pooling in your belly as the coil tightens, as you claw at the hood of the car, wishing the cuffs weren’t there—wishing you could claw at him instead.

“Feel you gettin’ all tight ‘round me, dove. Gonna cum? Gonna soak my fingers, doll?” He questions against your lips. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, sucking him in and keeping them there. So greedy, he thinks.

You nod vehemently, biting your lip so you don’t scream—or sob, you aren’t sure how to feel—into the air. He grinds the heel of his palm against your clit, and that’s all you need to finally break. You near black out when you cum, sparks shooting up your spine and making your vision go black for a moment, his fingers lazily working you through your orgasm as your legs shake and your walls damn near break his fingers. 

“That’s my girl, knew you could do it,” he hums against your temple, wiping away tears you hadn’t known fallen. 

You hadn’t cum that hard in your life. Not by yourself, and most certainly not by any of the lame frat boys you fucked in your college days.

But John isn’t in a frat.

And he certainly isn’t just a boy.

He gently slips  his hand out of your pants, bringing his fingers up to his lips before popping them into his mouth. The way his eyes flutter shut, eyebrows pulling together softly as he groans at the taste of you on his tongue, it’s all fucking sinful. You watch him, mesmerized as he pulls the glistening digits out of his mouth with a pop. 

He dips his head to yours, kissing you again, but much softer this time, less hungry, more savoring. You can taste the subtle tang of your own juices on his tongue, and you’d be a liar if you said it didn’t turn you on further. 

John subtly tugs your shorts and panties down, the fabric whispering against your skin. He fishes for a small key in his pocket, before using them on the cuffs. They open, releasing your raw wrists with a near-silent snick. You feel the moment the cuffs fall away, and your hands move as if drawn by an invisible force, reaching for him, clutching at his jaw, pulling him closer with urgency. Your fingers roam his shoulders, his neck, tracing the hard lines of his body as he spreads your legs, tossing your discarded shorts aside. He settles between them, lazily pumping his cock with his free hand. 

“You want this, love?” he whispers against your lips.

You nod almost imperceptibly before crashing your lips back to his, like you just can’t get enough. 

He kisses you back like a magnet, but just as quickly, he pulls away again.

“Words,” he says sternly.

You huff, ever the impatient brat. “Put your fucking cock in me or I swear to God, I'll get in my car and drive right out of here.”

“That right?” he scoffs, "You gonna drive off?" He brings his angry red tip to your sodden folds, teasing your sensitive clit with each brush, making you jolt, “You want t’act like a brat,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Then we can do this the hard way.” He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. “Unless,” he murmurs, ghosting the head of his cock into your hole, “you'd like to ask nicely.”

You bite your lip as you watch him tease you, fighting a groan at the way your cunt squelches and stretches around just his tip. 

“She’s so greedy, already tryin’ to suck me in,” he coos, “don’t want to deprive her, now do we?”

You whine as he notches just the head in. He pauses, waiting for you to speak before he moves any further. ​You open your mouth and your voice just breaks as you leak and drip around him and onto the hood of the car. 

“Please, John, Please, I need you—Please, I’ll be so good,” You break and claw at his shoulders and back, desperate to pull him closer to you, to have you flush against him, chest to chest and full of his cock.

“See how gorgeous you sound when you’re nice? See where that gets you, love?” He coos as he inches his cock into you. Your walls are already fluttering, still all worked up from your last orgasm. He has to fight the urge to cum right then and there, gritting his teeth as his grip tightens on your thighs, fingers dimpling the fat as he spears you open. 

You’re slack jawed, eyes glassy as he bottoms out. You’ve never been so full and stretched in your life. You can feel him in every orifice of your body, you feel him in the pits of your stomach, in the hollows of your lungs, in the cavern of your throat. His tip nudges against your cervix and all you can manage is a strangled sob. 

“Oh none of that, lovie, none of that,” he hums, pecking your lips and wiping the tears from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

 “Gonna fuck you real nice,” the thumb he used to wipe your tears away travels south, finding your clit and drawing soft, slow circles that have you gushing and relaxing around him, “Just be a good pet and take it.”

You nod as he cradles your head in his hand. He gently moves his hips, inching his cock out of your cunt before sliding back in, squeezing the air out of you like a fucking balloon. 

Gasps fall from your lips with each stroke, not entirely from discomfort, but from the sheer intensity of the feeling. He repeats the motion, a slow, deliberate push and pull that sends shivers down your spine. He keeps his thumb on your clit steady, making your legs shake, a burning heat already blossoming low in your belly. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his clothed frame as you try to anchor yourself against the rising tide of sensation.

He continues, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. Each thrust is deeper, faster, steady plaps from where his hips repeatedly meet yours. He knocks the breath out of you, each stroke forcing a soft mewl from your lips, your body trembling with anticipation. The world narrows, focusing on the rhythmic movements of his hips, the feel of his skin against yours, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with his.

He leans, his lips brushing against your own. “That's it, doll,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Take it all.”

His words ignite a fire within you, a raw, primal need that surges through your veins. You arch your back, meeting his thrusts with a ferocity that surprises even yourself. His pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more erratic, and you know he’s getting close. The burning in your abdomen intensifies, spreading outwards, and throughout your body.

His name falls from your lips in a litany—John, John, John, john—a prayer, both a plea and a demand as his cock plows into you with staggering precision. Your cunt clenches around him, milking every ounce of pleasure from each stroke. He groans, cursing as his grip tightens on your hips, until you wail, toes curling and clawing at his back, your voice hoarse as you squirt all over him. He continues to move, his rhythm relentless, until he too reaches his peak, groaning as his body shudders, as he spurts hot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.

You’re breathless, spent, your limbs heavy and relaxed. The dampness of sweat cooled on your skin, a pleasant contrast to the lingering heat between your legs. The world slowly comes back into focus and a soft smile plays on your lips as you trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips.

“That was…” you murmur, your voice still rough.

He nuzzles your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “A lot,” he finishes for you, his voice low.

You hum in agreement, tightening your grip on his jaw just slightly. You don't need to say more. The silence that settles between you is comfortable. He shifts slightly, and it reminds you he's still there, sheathed inside you.

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his body against yours, a comforting heat that seeps into your skin. Every nerve ending still fires, buzzing with aftershocks.

Slowly, he inches out of you. It feels weird to not be full of him, a sudden emptiness that makes you instinctively clench. He's out, and the cool air against your skin is a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Of the fact that you’re literally on the side of the road. John reaches for your discarded clothes, picking them up with a casualness that borders on audacious. 

He starts with your panties, briefly bending down in front of you as you step into them. He pulls them up your legs, snapping the elastic against your hip. “Sheriff’s discretion,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with amusement as he fastens your shorts too. “Wouldn't want you getting a ticket for indecent exposure.” Fucking knew it.

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “You were just as indecent as I was, if I recall.”

He shrugs as he tugs up his own pants, a picture of nonchalant authority. “Evidence suggests otherwise, doll,” he counters, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dropping to a low rumble, “I'm the one writing the tickets.” He finishes buttoning your shorts, his fingers lingering against your skin. 

The world sways for a moment, your legs still a little shaky. He steadies you, his arm around your waist. He walks you back to your car, the silence between you comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. He stops just short of the driver's side door, his hand resting comfortably on your back.

“Drive safe,” he says, his voice softer than you've ever heard it.

You nod, your eyes meeting his. You stand on your tip toes and kiss him, a soft, lingering peck on his lips that’s got him feeling like a teenager again.. He responds in kind, other hand moving to cup your cheek. Judging by how he holds you close, he’s reluctant to pull away.

But he does, and he turns and walks back to his cruiser. Eventually, You watch his car fade away, a strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Then, with a deep breath, you turn and get into your car. The door shuts and you just exhale, replaying everything that just happened. 

You reach to crank the keys sitting in the ignition and your eyes fall on a small white rectangle tucked under the windshield wiper. You get back out of the car and pull it free. 

It's a ticket. For speeding.

Asshole. 

[earlysunshines]

you always had me (and you’re always shining)

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff, pining, slowburn

synopsis: danielle has been there for your ups and downs, knowing her for so long and debuting with her makes you fall deeper and deeper—whether you like it or not.

warnings: sixth member reader ; readers a few months younger than dani ; pining and yeah i… love pining ; sloooow burn ; TOOTHrotting fluff like all your teeth will fall out prob and also angst (if u squint hard) ; they’re in love i fear, like sooo in love ; minji literally watches the whole thing unfold and doesn't say anything ; reader's native language is english ; some other implied things that will make sense it's just story buidling/backstory LOL ; barely proofread

a/n: this is a loooong one i hope u all enjoy :-] i enjoyed writing every bit and I was smiling the whole way, I hope you all smile reading this too.

being an idol is anything but easy, and that’s very palpable as you lie on the ground, sweaty and exhausted, in the practice room.

minji had watched the whole thing; right after the last session of the ditto choreo, you had walked over to the corner of the room, sat down, and ended up flat on your back. seeing you like this made her laugh.

regardless, you loved your job. music was your passion, and dancing brought joy to your heart. the journey to becoming an idol prepared you for the intense performances and demanding physical routines, but it didn't prepare you for how your heart would race each time a certain member interacted with you—just like she’s doing now.

danielle waits until you take your forearm off your forehead, watching you blink twice when she’s in your field of vision.

she greets you warmly. “hi stranger.”

“dani.” just the sight of her makes you smile. “hey.”

“you okay? minji wanted me to check on you.”

“tired, that’s all.”

“you should drink water then, sweetheart.” 

you hated when she called you these stupid pet names—not because it made you uncomfortable or anything, but because it made your heart nearly jump out of your chest. 

“want me to get you some?” she asks, her voice gentle yet playful.

“i can do it myself, thanks.” you respond, getting up without looking back at her—danielle frowns.

she watches you walk over to get water for yourself, slightly hunched over with your hand propping you up at the counter. she sees you stare down at the table between sips, seemingly lost in your own world, and it’s a tad bit concerning. sure, you’re quiet, but never this quiet or distant. you even practiced during the breaks, not giving yourself one and pretty much defeating the whole purpose of a break. everyone had noticed, but danielle had been much more worried.

danielle goes over to minji, who’s stretching and humming as the younger one is in her peripheral. she sits down next to the oldest member and continues to look at you, now you’re leaning against the wall sipping on the cup, and then letting it hang loose in your hand as you stare into the distance.

“minji, is y/n alright? she’s been so out of it today and the last time we had practice.”

minji looks in your direction and shakes her head. “no idea, i noticed it too. i thought you would’ve known.”

“i don’t. i’m just worried.”

“you want me to talk to her?” minji suggests, “but you’re closer with her, aren’t you?”

the younger member continues to look your way, watching haerin tap your shoulder and making you jump a bit from being startled. haerin turns to face you, her lips moving with some quiet words danielle can’t quite catch. you wave her off with a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, then head to a corner to stretch, finding your own space.

“yeah, she’s just been distant these past few days. minji, i don’t know what to do.”

“pry her open, she’s got a tough exterior you know.”

“she’s always been like that.” danielle sighs, continuing to stretch.

it’s well known that you’re quite reserved, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t bold, outgoing, or unwilling to talk to your members. all of them see you as a pillar and light in the group, a source of strength and joy. even further, there’s compilations of you online making the members laugh and being an idiot, you’re a joy to your fans and the people close to you. but there are times when you close yourself off and become unusually quiet. it’s not like haerin’s nature, being quiet and all; instead, it’s a concerning silence that signals something is off. danielle, in particular, has a keen sense for these moments, always noticing when you retreat into yourself and sensing that something is bothering you.

she’s always been able to find a way to help you out and talk to her a bit, you’ve had a soft spot for her and it’s evident to everyone in your group. you rarely speak on your problems; the fact that danielle can get you to utter a sentence regarding what bothers you is astonishing itself.

you’ve known danielle for as long as you’ve been a trainee since she’s been there longer. she’s always been incredibly kind and patient with you, especially during those initial days when you were adjusting to being away from your grandparents who raised you. being in a place so completely different from what you were used to was challenging, but danielle’s presence was a comforting constant. 

the bond that you two had only grew with time and experience, and the fact that you two had so many similarities (one being the year you were born) only strengthened it. danielle, without a doubt, was the one person who could ground you. because of this, she’s going to make it her priority to find out what’s up with you.

when practice ends and everyone is free to go back to the dorms, danielle approaches you and grabs your hand, making you turn to face her with a raised brow.

“yes?”

“let’s grab lunch y/n, the rest of us are going to.”

“oh, i’m not really feeling it, sorry.” you apologize, feeling bad when the member holding your hand frowns. “i think i’ll just eat later, i’m not hungry. could you buy me something though?”

she lets out a small huff. “what’s going on?” 

you tilt your head like haerin always does and hum in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“something is bothering you.”

“no, i’m just tired. can’t you see the eyebags? seriously, i’m so sleepy…” you try to mask what you feel with a lighthearted chuckle, but danielle can hear the lie in your words. she wants to be angry at you for lying, but she knows you can’t help it. lying about what you feel is like breathing to you. “grab me a rice bowl?”

she lets go of your hand and it almost urges you to spill pent-up emotions, but you won’t give in that easily. sure, her pretty face and caring self make you fold most of the time, but not in this case.

“alright y/n.” danielle sighs. “can we talk tonight? if you’re feeling like you want to. i hate seeing you so out of it.”

you pause, looking at her with slumped shoulders before biting your lip. 

“thank you, light.”

–

danielle has many nicknames and things people like to call her. one of her favorites—if not her absolute favorite—has always been dani, at least until you let a special nickname slip off your lips not too long ago, one that made her cheeks warm and brought a shy smile to her face.

“light?” she asks, looking at you like you’re stupid – in an admirable, adorable way of course.

you shrug. “sunshine is used too much by bunnies and the other members, light is much more unique and special to me. you’re special to me so i wanted something special. you don’t like it?”

danielle loves it the moment she hears you say it.

it's late, and while the rest of the members are fast asleep, you and danielle find yourselves unable to drift off. instinctively, you both end up in your room, lying on the bed. danielle’s head rests comfortably on your stomach as you explain the spontaneous, out-of-nowhere nickname you came up with for her a few months after your debut. she can't tell if the room is too hot and you need to start using your fan (you really do, danielle doesn’t understand how you survive without turning on that fan in these hot dorms), or if it's just because you've just called her something that makes her feel truly special.

her heart flutters. “i like it a lot. how’d you think of it?”

you start humming to yourself as you think. “i mean, you’re like sunshine, the sun. you know, you’re very bright and lights are bright too so…”

“that’s cute.” you’re cute, danielle might explode right there and right now, ‘cute’ is not capturing how much she adores it. “you’re creative.”

“i’m not.”

“you look down on yourself too much.” danielle retorts as she gets up to lay down next to you. her face is turned to gaze at your features. “seriously.”

“or maybe you just look up to me too much.”

“well you need to shrink. anyway, i think my statement is factual and yours is false.”

“you really want to debate right now?”

“i don’t need to, i’m right.” danielle smirks at you and you roll your eyes.

you turn on your side and she mirrors you, the mood of the room shifts, the air seems warmer – maybe you should turn that fan on.

danielle lets out a small yawn, her blinking slowing down as her eyelids grow heavy. you giggle quietly, then pull the blanket over the two of you, taking a moment to admire her. she looks peaceful and beautiful, more so than anyone or anything you've ever seen.

you reach over to fix the blanket sitting on her figure. “i take it you’re staying here tonight?”

she nods sleepily.

“okay.”

–

danielle knocks on your door, and before you can answer she lets herself in. she’s always done this, it’s amusing.

(and really, she knows you’ll let her in anyway. you’ve never once declined.)

she spots you lying in bed, your face hidden under the plaid blanket your grandma had shipped from your home. danielle knows it’s one of your most prized possessions, she can tell that it’s especially important as you cling onto it.

“the rice bowl is in the fridge, you should eat.”

“i’ll eat later dani.”

she frowns at you, watching you lay there and face the window in your room.

your favorite playlist fills the silence in the room, the one hanni contributed half of when you two were feeling emotional in the middle of the night and sharing sappy songs that made your hearts melt. it’s a bit concerning that this playlist is also what you listen to when you’re sulking, given that it’s filled with half of daniel caesar’s discography and slow love songs (happy and sad, but you still manage to sulk when it’s something to swoon over). 

you and hanni have such similar tastes in music; it’s almost dangerous how in sync you are when it comes to the songs that tug at your heartstrings.

danielle shuts the door slowly before making her way over to you. she sits beside you, rubbing your shoulder through the material of your blanket.

“hey sleepy, you’ll feel terrible if you don’t eat.” she squeezes you lightly, making you groan quietly. “the others are worried too, i told them you took a nap.”

“tell them i’m sleeping in.” you mumble, covering yourself in the blanket more. “thanks dani.”

she sighs and moves over so her lips hover above your ear. “y/n, you can’t stay like this. we’ve talked about this before, it’s not good to keep things in; you’ll explode.”

“it’s nothing, please danielle.”

“sweetheart,” her voice makes you all tingly. “please?”

you finally give in after she slides her hand down to your back, rubbing it comfortingly. with a deep breath, you slowly sit up and lean against the wall behind you. danielle’s eyes are filled with a tender, eager sparkle, her bottom lip jutting out slightly as she watches you, ready to listen to every word. 

the room feels warmer, the closeness between you making the moment intimate and heartfelt.

“the comeback is a little stressful, but i’ve managed of course.” she nods as you explain, giving you her undivided attention. “and my grandma recently got surgery, i found out two days ago and i’ve just been worried sick. the thought of her without me there to help her out makes me sick. i know my grandpa is there to help her out but– i’ve just always been there for them. now i can’t, and i can’t disappoint them either.”

you've never been much of a crier; the members have seen you cry maybe two or three times. but when danielle’s features soften and she immediately reaches over to engulf you in a hug that you could drown in, tears start to well in your eyes. you manage to hold them back, but the overwhelming comfort and warmth she offers makes it difficult.

“and you know the whole thing with my family after i took the trainee route, my grandparents are the only ones who are really fond of me and i– i’m just really… thrown off right now.

“i’m sorry to hear that, really.” she mumbles near your neck, mostly into your hair.  her embrace feels like a safe haven, a place where you can let go of your worries, even if just for a moment. you start to think that everything will be fine. “you’re not letting down anyone, just you existing makes your grandparents proud. i know it. and, i know i’ve only met your grandma briefly, but she’s such a strong woman from what i’ve seen, seriously. i trust that she’ll be fine, but would she be fine if she knew you were stressing?”

you shake your head – danielle has a point.

“i- i guess not.”

“well, i think her recovery would go much better knowing the woman she loves most is doing her best and doing alright.”

danielle’s right, she’s so right it really does ground you. you wrap your arms around her and hug back tightly, letting your worries flow away.

“thank you.”

“mhm.” she hums softly, then pulls away to gaze at you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “you should eat, let’s eat together.”

“you haven’t eaten yet?”

“a little, but i couldn’t eat a lot knowing you hadn’t.”

maybe you should’ve eaten, you should’ve because danielle isn’t satisfied. her stomach is most likely nowhere near half full. you quickly get up and grab her hand, dragging her out your room after hearing the new information.

“i can’t have you hungry dani.”

-

minji is happy to see your spark back, seeing you so enthusiastic and performing so well during practices makes her happy. 

this time, your practice is being recorded. you're all jumpy and giddy as you play around with hyein, teasing her in between breaks, but you manage to stay focused and excel as you run through the choreography. the camera captures you tease hanni, you make fun of the three-inch height difference between you two while she pouts and chases you around. even haerin joins in, watching you run around while you grin at the shortest member. the practice room buzzes with laughter and energy, your lighthearted teasing making the grueling session more enjoyable for everyone.

danielle and minji watch from afar, well, it’s mostly danielle who’s watching – admiring.

minji sees something special in her gaze, a sort of longing. a smile makes its way to danielle's lips, and minji watches the way danielle softens. the camera captures the same sight minji is seeing, though in much lower quality. the tender moment is evident even through the grainy footage, highlighting something much more complex between danielle and the object of her affection: you.

minji judges the younger member. “seems like you got her back on her feet.”

“hm?” danielle says, flinching slightly after being startled. “oh, yeah. she’s definitely feeling better, i’m really glad.”

“you two have something special, hm?”

“what do you mean?” 

minji looks back at you. you’ve given up, and hanni is now dragging you to the ground, both of you laughing as hyein records the whole thing. minji then glances at danielle. the younger australian member finds herself giggling unknowingly as she watches the whole scene unfold, her eyes twinkling with amusement and something softer, something that betrays the ‘platonic’ aspect in the fondness she holds for you.

minji shakes her head. “nothing. let’s get back to work.”

-

“hi everyone, i’m with y/n!” minji greets the livestream, looking at herself in the screen and fixing her hair. “say hi.”

you sit down next to her and fix the cap on your head, waving at the phone and smiling. “hi everyone, it’s been a while since i’ve made an appearance, huh?”

minji looks at you and scoffs. “you were on danielle’s live last week, and on her little voice message for a moment.”

you giggle and shake your head, putting up your hands to make a little ‘x’ sign with your fingers. 

“sounds like someone’s a fan of miss marsh, stalking her phoning activity…”

“bro, you are literally apart of her content a third of the time.”

“are you jealous kim minji?”

“of what, danielle being all over you? count me out…”

you giggle and continue on with the live. the two of you talk about the upcoming ‘making jeans,’ reminiscing and laughing over the countless memories you shared during the process of filming the music video.

of course, you tend to mention danielle often, complimenting her looks in each outfit and scene you all shot, the memories of mainly the two of you during the whole filming process. minji listens carefully as you ramble, narrowing her eyes each time the name ‘danielle’ is brought up. she lets you ramble, of course; she'd be something not too short of awful if she were to cut you off from gushing about your fellow member. 

there’s a sparkle in your eyes like fireworks going off as minji watches you. your smile is wide and genuine, your hands animatedly emphasizing every detail of whatever topic you're discussing, and without fail, danielle is woven into the narrative. the slight tint of pink on your cheeks doesn’t escape minji’s notice; it hints at something deeper than simple admiration.

the conversation shifts away from danielle and onto your other members, particularly how you and minji managed to cook a five-course meal for the rest of the group. questions flow and are answered promptly, and as the live stream reaches its fifty-minute mark, minji decides it's time to wrap up. 

once she ends the stream, you turn to her and give a thumbs up. “that was fun, lets do more of these.”

“you talked about danielle for a fifth of the live, y/n.”

“sorry…” you mumble, “i just remembered a lot of things from the shoot.”

you remembered danielle from the shoot that’s for sure. 

minji waves her hand and says, “it’s not a bad thing that you did…”

“of course not, danielle is lovely.”

to you? more than just lovely i bet. minji thinks, rolling her eyes before she flicks the cap off your head. you make some strange noise and it makes the older member chuckle.

“let’s get some rest, thanks for joining me.”

“yeah, anytime.” you wink at her before getting up and waving, walking out the door with a grin on your lips.

minji finds herself leaning against her bedframe, reflecting on everything she’s observed over the past two weeks—and honestly, over the years. 

the whole livestream with you has her pondering now; even as trainees, you and minji had always been close and supportive of each other. however, minji had always noticed something distinct in the dynamics between you and danielle. while all four of you—minji, hanni, danielle, and yourself—spoke english, there was an undeniable uniqueness in the connection, the exchanged glances, the subtle cues, and the way you and danielle interacted.

she collapses onto her bed and grabs her phone, concentrating hard as she clicks on the 'youtube' icon and goes to the search bar. biting the inside of her lip, she types 'newjeans danielle and y/n,' feeling a little awkward, as if she’s doing something a fan would do. she shakes her head to dispel the feeling, focusing on the recommended searches that follow:

"newjeans danielle and y/n moments" "danielle and y/n cute interactions" "newjeans y/n looking at danielle" "danielle and y/n chemistry compilation"

minji clicks on the first result, curiosity piqued, then clicks on the first video that pops up. the video is a compilation of moments between you and danielle, set to a soft, romantic song. as the montage begins, she sees clip after clip of the two of you laughing together, eyes sparkling with unspoken understanding. secret glances are exchanged, your smiles growing wider with every shared look. inside jokes flow effortlessly, creating a tempo only the two of you seem to follow. 

minji watches as the moments play out, each one reinforcing the undeniable bond between you and danielle. most of these clips could be played out as touchy, close friend moments, but some cannot be brushed off as that at all.

there’s a clip that plays, and minji cringes a little when she sees herself pop up on screen, talking about how she feels before a stage. the focus then shifts, zooming in on the background where danielle is leaning against your shoulder, eyes closed. minji watches as you turn to look at danielle lovingly, a soft smile playing on your lips before you look back at the makeup artist fixing your blush. 

another clip that makes minji's brows furrow also sparks a memory in her head. in the clip, you jump at minji, placing both hands on her shoulders as you lift yourself up from the ground. when you land back down, you hug the older member and laugh with her, happy that you've managed to scare her. what minji never noticed before now plays in the video: danielle is in the distance, the footage edited to zoom in on her. she's watching the whole scene, and as soon as your arms wrap around minji, danielle's gaze turns slightly more serious. danielle bites half of her lip and clenches her jaw, clearly a little bothered by it.

that’s not like her at all.

minji skips the video and finds the most replayed moment, her eyes widening at how oblivious she had been to you two. have the other members noticed as well? the question rings throughout minji’s head, the others have to have had a small hunch. then again, danielle is affectionate, and you are too at times, so maybe it wouldn’t be unbelievable for them to be blind to whatever you and her have going on. 

you and danielle are shooting for the photobooks, taking your duo pictures. minji watches as danielle takes this opportunity to be touchy as ever, her hands never leaving you as you both pose. her hand ends up on your forearm, shoulders, and even the back of your neck. she's flirting with you the whole time too, mostly to earn genuine smiles and laughs for the camera, but also because she enjoys it and means it – minji assumes. even as you two pose with hanni added, danielle still keeps her hand on you at all times, not wanting to leave you be. and when the camera pans to her hand sliding to your waist and rubbing it just barely, minji freezes.

each moment feels charged with a depth she hadn't fully grasped before. even she hasn’t noticed half of what was clipped.

the comments are filled with fans gushing over your interactions:

"i swear they have the best chemistry!" "look at how danielle looks at y/n! my heart can't take it." "they are so cute together! #dany/n" “are they dating? i’m new to this group. ↪️”not officially, but from their interactions it seems like it could be true.” ↪️”there has to be something though, most likely they are.” ↪️”hey, let’s not assume things. we don’t know what goes on behind cameras and they’re probably just really close friends!”

minji sighs, a mix of amusement and concern flooding her. she knew you two were close, but this compilation and the fan reactions make it clear just how much your bond stands out. sure, danielle and haerin had some of their own moments (mainly because haerin, but this? this is something.

 she scrolls through a few more videos, each one reinforcing what she's just realized. 

"oh my fucking god," minji murmurs, the weight of understanding settling in as she processes everything: you think danielle shines brighter than the sun.

you talk about her like she is your sun, and danielle looks at you like you’re her moon.

and minji? she's caught in the midst of your oblivious pining, realizing she occupies the role of the stars, planets, and everything in between.

-

“hanni.”

the younger member jumps at the sound of minji barging into her room at 12 in the morning, looking at her like she’s crazy.

“the hell man? at least knock–”

“you and danielle, you’re both very similar, very close too, i know that.”

“of course i’m close with dani, what the hell are you–”

“you’re close with y/n too, yeah?”

“i’m close with everyone including you minji, what kind of interrogation is this?”

minji flops onto hanni’s bed and stares up into the ceiling like she’s just worked a 9-5 with no break in between. the younger member walks over to close the door of her room, then sits back down to assess whatever is happening. 

“seriously,” hanni begins, “what’s up?”

“are dani and y/n dating? like are they together? like girlfriends, like– romantic?”

hanni giggles, making minji turn her head to give hanni a good look of the confused expression she has on. “what? no…? they’re just really flirty minji, i thought we knew this.”

“okay well i just went live with y/n and she was rambling and gushing about dani for a solid fifteen minutes. hanni, that live was almost an hour.”

“oh.” hanni simply responds, going silent.

“have you noticed something between them? or am i going crazy…”

the room is silent for a while, and minji lets it stay that way, giving hanni time to process her thoughts. hanni starts to really think about her other two members. minji has a point: you and danielle are close, and your demeanor changes noticeably when danielle is involved. she also recalls the time when she and danielle had gone out together, only for danielle to talk about you a good chunk of the time. it doesn’t help that danielle’s lock screen consists of two rotating pictures: one being a group photo and the other being you holding a kitten.

danielle and hanni spend a lot of time together, and now that hanni fully analyzes all those moments, she realizes that a significant portion of their conversations revolves around you. it’s almost as if you were there with them. danielle also looks at you differently, more lovingly, compared to the way she looks at the other members. when she flirts, it’s also different – more genuine, more meaningful. hanni had always been too distracted by how flirty and stupid danielle was to notice the blush on both your faces during those flirtatious moments. now, everything starts to make sense.

“okay wait yeah,” hanni bites the side of her finger. “i guess? but danielles really loving and sweet.”

“but much more with y/n, right?” minji sounds like she’s trying to convince herself too. “oh my god this is so embarrassing but i went on youtube…”

“don’t tell me you–”

minji puts a hand in the air, closing her eyes embarrassingly. “it was for research.”

“research on your friends?”

“stop! you need to see the video too, i didn’t even notice this shit.” 

hanni sighs, letting minji scoot next to her and play a video titled ‘danielle and y/n moments that could make the cut in a romance drama.’ the younger member eyes minji after reading the title, minji just puts a finger to her lips and presses play.

“i can’t believe you’re making me watch this, am i a bunny or what?”

“just watch.”

minji is older and hanni does not have anything better to do at this hour of the night, so she keeps her eyes glued on the screen.

the younger woman goes through every single emotion that minji has with each second passing by. her brows crease, her hand hovers over her mouth in shock, and she almost squeals during some clips – minji nudges her teasingly. when the video ends hanni sits there staring at the phone dead silent. 

“well?”

“that was edited very well.”

the older member pushes the younger one and rolls her eyes. “shut up. are you picking up what i’m putting down?”

“yeah, no, oh my god it’s real.”

“but they’re not dating…” minji thinks to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. “wait, are they… do they even like girls?”

“oh yeah, danielle mentioned it like, twice, but she thinks it’s not a big deal. but yeah, she likes girls. i think y/n mentioned it once too, they’re both just not open about it i guess?”

minji clicks her tongue. “so they’re probably in love and pining, they’re oblivious.”

“what do we even do with this information?” hanni asks. 

they both ponder the possible outcomes, weighing the positive and negative consequences of you and danielle becoming a couple or continuing to pine for each other. if you two stayed in the limbo of unspoken looks, flirting, and loving gestures, the status quo would remain, but it might cause tension. on the other hand, if you two became a thing and eventually broke up, it could create a rocky dynamic within the group. 

however, minji knows you well. you’re mature and have been through a lot, so she believes you’d be able to handle it professionally. danielle, on the other hand, might struggle more with the fallout. but if the relationship lasted, it would bring happiness and joy, despite the challenges of dating as an idol and concealing so much. the two of you would be happy – you’re already happy as is to be part of the group and know each other – and so would the other members. 

the thought of this potential happiness brings a soft smile to minji’s face as she considers the best path forward for everyone involved.

minji leans into hanni’s pillow and closes her eyes – she looks like an overworked therapist. “we shouldn’t intervene.”

“let things flow naturally?”

“yeah, but with the knowledge that they’re in love i guess.”

“so it’s actually like an angsty, intense romance drama.”

“they’re our friends idiot… more like a romcom, it’s not that bad.”

the two laugh and decide to call it a night, promising to run to each other with information and thoughts on every single thing that happens to the two of you.

(they can still be fans of the two of you despite being part of the group itself, and that as a guilty pleasure isn’t the worst thing in the world.)

-

your birthday falls right before the break you have, just a few promotions to get through and you’re set.

unfortunately, you’re not able to see your grandparents during the first week of your vacation since they’ve had a few complications with flights and their work. however, they’ll be coming to visit you in the second week, staying a little longer despite you having to work. because of this, you'll have plenty of time to spend with them and show them around seoul. 

plus, they’ll get to meet your members, and you can already envision how much they’ll baby and spoil everyone. the thought of your grandparents showering your friends with affection, gifts, and really just their love and charm brings a smile to your face, and you can’t wait for them to experience the warmth and love you’ve always cherished. 

every birthday for each member includes a special livestream, and today, it’s your turn. 

despite it being your birthday, a heavy feeling of sadness lingers, overshadowing the excitement as you all set up. you should be happy, and you are with the members around you by your side on your day, but you’re still not completely you the absence of danielle gnaws at your heart. everyone except her surrounds you, and you try to mask how terrible you feel without her presence as you prepare for the broadcast. she apparently had something very important in her schedule that would last until the late evening, leaving you to celebrate without her.

[danielle] im so sorry i can’t be there for you ☹️ i wanted to be there but they’ve shoved this into my schedule since the break is soon im so sorry sweetheart i’ll make it up to you as best as i can, promise i love you, i’m sorry i’m so so so sorry

you remember seeing danielle's messages two hours after noon. the instant you read them, your shoulders dropped, your smile faded, and all the excitement drained from your body. those texts still haunt you, a constant reminder of her absence on a day you wanted her by your side the most.

[y/n] it’s okay, don’t worry about it.

you put on your best facade, greeting the viewers with a joyful, upbeat tone, but the rest of the members can see through it. the light in your eyes is dimmed, your smile not as genuine as usual. hyein notices and rubs your hand under the table, offering silent support, trying to lift your spirits on your special day. the others chime in with their own attempts to cheer you up, but the void left by danielle’s absence is hard to fill.

you force a smile. “i’m surrounded by most of my members! i’m very happy to be with them on my special day.”

hyein puts her arm around your shoulder and squeezes you close to hug you from the side, making you giggle. “she’s getting older and older and older… please wish her a long life everyone.”

“hey! i’m not that old…”

“if y/n is old then what am i?” minji questions, quirking a brow at the youngest.

“ancient.”

“hey!”

your members start to bicker playfully, and it washes away a good amount of your worries. the smile on your face stays, though it falters now and then. despite the sadness lurking in the background, you're grateful to be surrounded by those who have supported you. their presence and antics bring some light to your birthday, helping you feel a bit more at ease.

hanni suddenly grips your shoulders, making you jump. “okay~ time for the birthday girls’ gifts!”

she makes you giggle, then moves out of frame to grab a wrapped box. she hands it to you – not without accidentally hitting your head, making you and the members gasp and chuckle – then lets you examine the exterior.

“you’ll love it man.” you roll her eyes at her confident tone.

everyone watches you unwrap the gift, hyein snorts as she watches you struggle to open the box up, having to find a pen to stab it and rip the seal. there are a few things inside, but you grab the larger item out and gasp when you see it. 

“hanni you’re– oh my god.” you gaze at the signed daniel caesar vinyl in your hands, mouth wide open. “hanni.”

“yes?”

you stand up immediately to hug her tight, engulfing her in your arms as you sway in place. “thank you so much.”

she rubs your back and hugs you back with the same energy. “seems like my present will be hard to beat, that so?”

you pull away and scoff playfully, sitting back down to inspect whatever else is inside the box. “don’t make it a competition!”

the rest of the live continues, most of your sorrow completely lifted after opening each present. minji gives you a cap with your name on it, along with a necklace you had been eyeing for months, some stationary, and your favorite candies from back home. you marvel at how she managed to get a bag of your favorite sweets, but she just shrugs with a smirk plastered on her face, clearly enjoying the mystery.

haerin’s gift is thoughtful and cute. you ‘re given three different koala keychains (your representative and favorite animal), a cat shirt, a new ds game, and blue light glasses. haerin is attentive to everything, but it still surprised you that she remembered you were missing the ‘y’ version of your favorite pokemon game – and your glasses that you had bought a month ago. she also hands you a letter, it’s full of words that will probably make you tear up later, so you decide to tuck it away for the time being.

hyein gifts you something that makes you laugh until you're leaning against her, nearly crying. her bag contains new earrings that match your style perfectly and your favorite disney movie on dvd. the real kicker, though, is an oversized shirt featuring a popular baby picture of you photoshopped boldly on the front. in the picture, your six-year-old self is sleeping with your head turned uncomfortably and drool seeping from the corner of your lips. the sloppy masking of the image only adds to how hilarious it is, making hanni and minji hold onto each other as they cackle, while haerin has to move out of frame to hide her amusement. 

“how did you even get this made?” you ask the youngest member, still clinging onto her and laughing in between words. “oh my god, this is insane.”

“do you like it?”

“i love it hyeinie.” you press a short peck to the top of her head, then pat down her hair. “it’s wonderful.”

she’s smiling brightly, happy that you’re not as sad as before and that you love her gift. hyein has always been full of love and care.

you begin to organize the presents again, looking back at all of them and feeling like the luckiest, happiest girl in the world. after hugging all of your members again, nearly crushing them from how grateful you are.

haerin then brings your cake back in frame, tugging on your sleeve to grab your attention. 

 you clap your hands. “ah! yes, let’s blow the candle.”

it’s really simple, mundane, and everyone does it – blowing a cake and all, despite yours not being edible – but it makes your cheeks hurt from how much you smile. everyone enthusiastically sings ‘happy birthday’ and you sit there like a child all giddy. once they’re all done, you close your eyes and clasp your hands, making a silent wish in your head.

most of the wishes are simply you wishing for your grandparents to be well and healthy, and you wished the same for your members. you also wished for one more thing, something on a whim, but it would make you even happier than you are right now.

i wish danielle were here.

you silently go over each wish again, unaware of hanni opening the door behind you, someone walking in silently and quickly rushing over to stand behind you. 

opening your eyes, you grin and blow the candles out, then jump and shout in surprise when you feeling someone’s arms around you and their body pressed against you from behind.

danielles scent is recognizable, and so is her voice, heavy with accent. “happy birthday!”

you turn around in surprise, looking up at her with wide eyes and your jaw dropped. she moves her hand to the crook of your neck, the other resting on your shoulder as she looks at your expression.

“dani? you– you said you couldn’t–”

“i’m sorry, i had to pick up your present and surprise you. was it too harsh?”

you felt you heart break into pieces when you had received her texts, but still answer, “no, absolutely not.”

she hugs you again and you sink into her embrace. minji and hanni exchange knowing glances, hyein and haerin just smile at how sweet the moment it is. 

you end the live shortly after, with danielle explaining to the viewers that her present for you is something very special that she needs to show off-camera. the group continues chatting about you and your birthday, with haerin snickering at hyein’s remarks. danielle stays where she is, standing behind your chair with her arms around you, her fingers grazing your skin in a way that makes you swoon. minji and hanni silently communicate with each other through their eyes and brows, sharing a knowing look about the bond between you and danielle.

you couldn’t be any happier.

–

it turns out that you can be happier.

once the livestream ends, you all help clean up the studio. minji tries to suck in helium from the balloons, while hanni and hyein run around trying to stop her, adding to the lighthearted chaos. despite the playful antics, the six of you manage to clean up quickly. each member hugs you tightly, danielle hugging you last. as she pulls away, she gives a look to each of the members, silently sending them off with goodbyes and “see you back at home’s.” soon, it’s just you and danielle back in the empty studio after she had dragged you back inside.

“i’m sorry again, but i had to grab you some special things.”

“it’s okay, really.” you lie, knowing you probably would’ve went back home and sulked for a bit. you look at the bag in her hands, then giggle. “is that for me?”

“yes miss birthday girl!” 

you laugh and she hands you the bag, it’s smaller than everyone elses, but that doesn’t matter at all.

reaching in, you feel something fluffy. you pull out a small teddy bear about twice the size of your hands, feeling your lips turn up. it’s a bear with a flower in its hand and a small flower crown on top of its head. it’s adorable, but not as much as danielle.

“dani,” you pull her in for another hug. “this is so cute.”

“mhm.” she mumbles, pulling away. “press on its chest.”

“what?”

“just do it.”

you comply, you thumb adding pressure and feeling a small click. there’s a small sound that starts to play, and as soon as you hear the familiar voices, you almost break.

“hi y/n! we miss you and love you and are so so proud of you.” the sound of your grandpa’s voice in the recording makes you freeze.

your grandma speaks next, “we miss you and love you to death. keep it up! you are so amazing and the greatest gift ever, you’ve got this.” 

they both speak at the same time next, saying, “from your favorite bunnies: we love you y/n!”

danielle is a little scared as she watches you frozen in place, still clutching the bear she gave you. your lip trembles slightly, and she hears a slight shake in your breath. you stare at the bear in shock, then look up at danielle with tears brimming in your eyes. her heart aches, unsure if your reaction is good or bad, and she takes a hesitant step closer, her voice soft and concerned.

"hey, are you okay?" she asks, reaching out gently to touch your arm. 

you grab her wrist and pull her in, engulfing her in the warmest hug you’ve given. “danielle, this is the best gift i’ve ever received.” she can hear you starting to sniffle, not letting go of you and letting your tears stain her hair. “thank you so much, i– i really needed this. you’re seriously the most thoughtful person i know and i just, i can’t explain how much this means to me.”

danielle's heart swells with relief and affection. she hugs you tighter, resting her chin on your shoulder. "i'm so glad you like it," she whispers. "you mean a lot to me, and i wanted to give you something special, something that shows how much i care."

you pull back slightly to look at her, your eyes still glistening with tears. "it’s perfect," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "you’re perfect, oh my god, i love you so much.” 

danielle smiles, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "i’m glad you like it, happy birthday.” she says softly.

-

“yes, i got it. i can’t believe danielle did all this for me.” you face your ipad, smiling at your grandparents. “i cried you know!”

your grandmas eyes smile with her and you can see the slight wrinkles in the corner of them. “aw, at least they were happy tears. your member, she reached out to us first you know? what a sweetheart…”

“danielle cares for you a lot, you know? she’s a great friend, you keep her close, okay?” your grandpa adds.

friend. the word rings in your ear, stinging a little. danielle is sweeter than honey, caring, loving, and she’s the reason your transition to moving away from home was easier. at the end of the day, no matter how touchy she is with you, how many flirtatious comments and affectionate gestures she gives; danielle is your friend. 

at least she’s in your life, you’re grateful for just that.

“yeah,” you chuckle, it’s bittersweet leaving you. “she’s a great friend.”

your grandma leans closer to the camera, smirking. “but if i had to take a guess, i don’t think you’re just a friend to her.”

an awkward laugh leaves your lips. “what are you on about?”

“friends don’t do things as significant as this. your grandpa was my ‘friend’ in college, but none of my friends did the things he did. did the rest of your members do something like this? she cares about you deeply, im sure the other members do too, but this is different y/n.”

“i mean, my members also gave me great gifts.”

“sweetie, danielle reached out to us via facebook and set up a whole thing in order to get this for you.”

“and i’ve seen your little videos with the members, she looks at you differently and clings onto you more than haerin. that says a lot.” your grandpa adds on, raising his brows. 

your cheeks start to burn, you roll your eyes and scoff. “i think you’re looking into it too far, seriously. she’s my coworker and friend.”

“y/n, follow your heart. you adore her and you’re trying to push away the feeling because you’re scared of rejection.” your grandma was very good at reading you. too good. “don’t suppress and run away because you’re scared, things will work out.”

“i don’t even know if she likes girls like that, i mean, danielle–”

without any warning, the door of your room is opened suddenly and you jump, dropping your ipad on the mattress and letting out a small yelp.

danielle stands int he doorway in her pajamas. “hey! oh sorry– did i interrupt? sorry i’ll come back later–” 

“no! i mean, no.” you clear your throat. “d-did you need something?”

your grandparents can only see the ceiling, but they still hear danielle, “ah, well, i’ll just tell you later when you’re done. are you calling your grandparents?”

“danielle? is that you?” your grandma calls out. “dear, let me see her.”

picking up the ipad and setting it upright again, danielle walks over to where you sit on the bed and leans over so her head is in frame. “mrs. and mr. l/n! hi, how are you?”

“oh danielle, it’s lovely to see you! we’re doing great.” your grandpa responds. 

you scoot over and pat down the space next to you, mumbling softly to danielle, “sit here.”

“you sure? i didn’t interrupt, i’ll just say hi and–”

danielle feels you grab her wrist, pulling her down so she’s next to you now. “it’s fine, i swear.” you assure, and danielle just nods.

“oh gosh, you get prettier each time i see you.” your grandpa says in awe (he gets it). “how did y/n react? tell us the full details.”

the member beside you laughs, it’s music to your ears. 

“she just stared at it while the audio played and… cried.” she turns to look at you with apologetic eyes. “it was very emotional, but i can assure she loved it. did you?”

“yeah.” you mutter, eyes on danielle as she speaks.

“aw, how adorable. well, we actually have to go. you had something to tell our granddaughter?”

your grandma and grandpa want you dead.

“aw, well i hope to talk to you two for longer next time! stay safe and healthy– oh! and speedy recovery to you mrs. l/n!”

“thanks dear, goodnight you two! happy birthday, we love you.” is the last thing your grandpa says before your grandma blows you a kiss and waves goodbye. the call ends a second later, leaving you and danielle alone.

she turns her head, your faces find themselves a hand apart.

“your grandparents are so lovely.”

you look at her like an idiot. “yeah.”

“i’m sorry to cut your call short, really–”

“no! no, it’s okay. what did you want to tell me?”

“well,” she starts, her gaze fixed on her hands. she looks nervous, and it makes you nervous as well. “i kind of was wondering…” you gulp, hearing the hesitation in her voice. she does that thing, the little nervous lip bite that’s both adorable and nerve-racking at the same time. “you know, the vacation we have is soon, and you’re here in seoul for the first week. i figured that might be boring, considering all of us will be out and with family, you know? and you, you’re still here.”

her words hang in the air, the weight of her uncertainty pressing down on both of you. you can feel the anticipation building, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to decipher her intentions. the idea of spending the first week of vacation alone had been a bit daunting, and the thought that danielle had been thinking about you, about your potential loneliness, makes your heart swell with a mix of hope and anxiety.

“and…?”

“well…” you focus on each curve of her side profile, eyes softening as she continues. “how does australia sound? with me, my hometown to be exact. oh! but only for a few days of course! i know your grandparents are visiting and yeah, that’s– that’s what i wanted to ask.”

you can’t help but chuckle at how she fiddles her fingers, how she avoids your gaze, and really just her all nervous like this. it’s cute, she’s cute. 

(everytime you’re with her, it seems that you fall more and more.

it seems impossible, but she finds a way to make it possible everytime.)

“danielle, i mean, this is so sudden but i would love to.” you reach out to put a hand on hers, danielle feels her heartbeat start to simmer back into its normal pace. “your family is fine with it?”

“they’re the ones who suggested it actually, and i know that one time when we were trainees you said you always wanted to visit where i grew up and i got giddy that time just thinking about it so of course i jumped at the idea and–” she cuts herself off after looking back up to see you. you’re grinning and your head is leaning against the headboard now. “sorry, i’m–”

“no, i like it. i’ll go.”

danielle sighs in relief. “okay good because i had bought the tickets a month ago when you mentioned staying in seoul for a week–”

“what?” 

all you can do is laugh again, making danielle laugh too. 

-

the first interaction you had with danielle had already piqued your curiosity. the memory replays in your head as you wait for the coffee you had ordered in the airport.

you were a new trainee, fumbling through the maze of hallways in search of the training room you had been reassigned to at the last minute. your korean was rudimentary at best—reading it was manageable, but grasping the full meaning took considerable effort and time. conversations were a challenge, your speech a mix of broken sentences and unintentional informalities that made interactions awkward.

every sign you passed seemed to blur together, each character a puzzle you struggled to piece together. the unfamiliar surroundings only heightened your anxiety, making every misstep feel monumental. your heart raced with a mix of frustration and determination as you looked down at the paper in your hand, clearly too focused on it as you collided with someone.

“shit–” you whisper, then rush out a botched, formal “sorry,”

you look at the girl in front of you, waving her hand and patting herself down. she looks at you worriedly, then says a little too quickly, “im so sorry! are you okay? i should’ve looked where i was going!”

“what?” you say in english. she’s speaking formally, it’s hard to decipher with your limited vocabulary and experience with others. you shake your head and mutter in accented korean, “sorry, w-what did you, um, what did you say?”

“ah,” the realization hits her, your confusion and accent told her enough. “do you speak english?”

her accent is strong, very recognizable which helps your body relax. she’s aussie, thank god. you think to yourself, then nod at the girl. 

“yes, fluently. my korean is not the best, sorry. it takes a bit to understand.”

“it’s no problem! i was just asking if you’re okay– i really should’ve watched where i was going.”

hurriedly, you wave your hands in the air. “no! no. i wasn’t looking, i was trying to read the paper and clashed into you.”

“it’s alright, at least we’re both fine!” you loved her radiant energy the moment you met her. the girl, you had bumped into already seemed to calm you down. even the first meeting, a simple collision, brought you some peace despite all of your stress as a trainee. “you’re having trouble with the paper? let me help.”

you hand her the paper. “thank you so much.”

“no worries, really.” she says before reading. “it says you’re moved to room 153– oh! i was just heading there!”

“really?”

“yeah! come with me!”

“thank you so much… um, your name?”

“danielle! yours?”

you take some time to examine her. danielle is really pretty, and if you hadn’t bumped into her at first you would’ve spent more time admiring her face. she had these beauty marks on her face that could rival any constellation, and the way her eyes lit up without even trying was enough to keep you captivated.

you gulped. “y/n.”

“pretty name.” she says, then grabs your hand and drags you in the other direction. “you know,” she giggles, “maybe it was a miracle that you ran into me.”

it was nothing short of a miracle, and honestly, it felt like something beyond that. had you not bumped into her that day, you might never have found your way to the training room. more importantly, you wouldn’t have met the person who would become your friend. danielle, with her effortless kindness and patience, helped you navigate and bear with the troubles of being a trainee in a place away from home. she assisted you in improving your korean, and provided the emotional support you desperately needed. she was your rock.

without danielle, you would have been lost, both literally and figuratively. her guidance made everything seem less overwhelming; she turned every challenge into a manageable task, and somehow, she managed to stay upbeat too. 

if it weren’t for her, you probably wouldn’t have debuted, you really wouldn’t have come this far.

and without her influence, you wouldn’t be in the airport trying to find her so you can give her that latte she wanted you to order. you catch her in the blue hoodie she had been wearing, walking towards her immediately and watching her eyes crinkle when she sees you. even with her mask on, she’s lovely.

–

seeing danielle reunite with her family almost brings tears to your eyes. she’s crying as she hugs her sister, mom, and dad, you smile at the sight. it’s clear she’s missed them; who wouldn’t miss the people they loved most while being a long flight away?

“oh! y/n, come here!” danielle pulls away from her parents to drag you over by the hand. 

her mom looks you up and down, smiling at your awkward self in your oversized graphic t-shirt and sweatpants. she puts her hands on either side of your shoulder, then pulls you in for a hug. “y/n, it’s great to see you again.”

“likewise.” you hug her back.

danielle’s dad joins in, wrapping his arms around you two as well. “don’t leave me out!” and it prompts danielle’s sister to hug you too.

“hey! i want hugs too!” danielle jumps over, and now you’re engulfed in a multihug, but who would complain?

–

“no really, it’s alright! i don’t want to trouble you any more. i can settle myself in, really.” you’re trying your best to fight off each attempt at helping you relax into the guest room next to danielle’s, dismissing every family member until it’s danielle.

she pouts. “you sure? are you posssiiittivveeee~”

“dani,” you hold her fingers. “i’m so positive that i’m negative.” you put a hand up to interrupt her before she even speaks. “and no that doesn’t mean i need your help, seriously. go see your family, i’ll meet you all soon.”

she’s frowning now. “fine, fine. meet in the living room?”

“yes, i’ll take ten minutes tops.”

“you sure?”

“more positive than a plus sign.”

danielle giggles, and so do you. she holds both of your hands and you two stare at each other for a good while. she’d love to spend a few minutes helping you unpack. the action is mundane, but that’s what she likes to do most with you. she could be watching paint dry and as long as it’s with you, she’d enjoy every second. 

you forget how to breathe for a moment until she releases her hands. she winks at you, then heads out the door, leaving you flushed.

you wonder how you’ll survive for the next few days.

–

you manage to survive the first day. it consists of you following danielle around (not that you’re against it) and your eyes widening with each new sight.

every car ride, your head is angled towards the window, captivated by the passing scenery. danielle’s gaze also falls on the window, but not for the view it offers. instead, she watches you, memorizing your features with a quiet intensity. she already knows every contour of your face by heart; a simple touch, even blindfolded, would be enough for her to recognize you. 

you, however, are too entranced by the world outside to notice her adoration. the vibrant trees, the shimmering water in the distance, and the people going about their lives with smiles on their faces all hold your attention. the landscape unfolds like a living painting, and you are lost in its beauty.

danielle finds her own kind of beauty in watching you, her heart swelling with each small expression of wonder that crosses your face.

from morning to sunset, the day is filled with shared giggles, smiles, and endless affection. danielle leads you to each of her favorite spots in the city, eagerly sharing the anecdotes that make each place special to her. the two of you are like peas in a pod—she talks and talks, and you listen intently, soaking up every word.

as you explore the city together, danielle's excitement is infectious. she points out the café where she first realized espresso based drinks weren’t all that bad. then she takes you to the park where she used to sit and clear her mind, mentioning that she dropped an ice cream cone at a bench near a tall tree as a child. and you learn that the little bookstore tucked away in a quiet alley is where she discovered her favorite novel. each place holds a piece of her heart, and she's sharing it all with you.

(another piece of her heart, you, mingling with the others like puzzle pieces clicking together.)

you let her take as many pictures as she wants, capturing every moment to savor later. whether it's a candid shot of you laughing at one of her stories, a moment where you’re caught of guard, or a scenic view of the sunset you both admire; you pose willingly, knowing how much these memories mean to her. because really, you'll do anything for danielle. her joy is your joy, and her stories are now part of your shared narrative, weaving a tapestry of cherished memories that belong to both of you now.

when the two of you make it back home to her home in the evening after a tiring, eventful day with her and her family, you realize that yeah, you’re in love with her.

you’re in love with her beyond anything, you could breathe danielle.

it’s never been a question, really, loving her and all. but you’ve seen her at each moment in time and your first day with her where she grew up ties the knot tighter. it should hurt your heart, the feeling that it might not be reciprocated, but you’re too distracted by how happy she is to plate everyone’s dinner to let it get to you.

besides, maybe your grandma was right. 

you trust her intuition, but you need some more reassurance.

–

on the second day in the afternoon, you’re helping out her grandparents with cooking pastries. you’re mixing the batter for banana bread and danielle’s chin is on her palm as she watches you attentively. 

a soft tune is playing and you're humming along, the melody bringing a relaxed smile to your face. the family dog, jinni, keeps brushing against your leg, wagging her tail eagerly. your laughter rings out, light and infectious, and danielle can't help but think that your laughter is much more pleasing to the ear than whatever plays in the background. 

danielle's gaze remains fixed on you, a tender smile forming on her lips as she watches you interact with jinni. there's something mesmerizing about the way you move, the way you laugh, and the effortless joy you radiate. 

her reverie is interrupted when her sister taps her shoulder, pulling her back to the present moment. danielle turns, humming softly in response, but her thoughts are still with you, the image of your laughter lingering in her mind.

“dani, you’re in love.”

“lower your voice!” danielle hushes her. “i– i’m not.”

“you look like the lead of a romance film.”

“well,” danielle sighs in defeat after glancing at you again. her grandma has found a small spoon and is scooping a bit of the batter to feed you. your eyes light up, and the way your teeth show could stop a storm, danielle thinks. "ugh, it's just, i adore her."

“that’s evident.”

danielle laughs and playfully nudges her sister, then rests her hadn on her palm again.

“she’s beautiful and sweet and– how could someone not love her?”

“you’ve been in love with her ever since you gushed about the ‘pretty girl not from here that can basically only speak english’ when you were a trainee, dani.”

she groans in response and leans against her sister as she watches you again. you pour the batter into the prepared tray, then look over at danielle. you motion for her to walk over and she gets up immediately, but not before catching the knowing look from her sister.

you hold the spatula up and order, “taste.” before she laughs and licks the batter off of it. you raise your brows. “good, right? it’s not too sweet and the perfect amount of banana.”

“it’s amazing.” she fights the urge to say that you are too.

–

danielle takes you to three beaches on the third day, you enjoy watching her splash her feet around in the water before dragging you in, almost soaking the upper half of your linen pants.

“hey! i don’t have a change of clothes!”

“then be quicker!” she says in between giggles, “don’t be a scaredy cat!”

“i’m not!”

her sister follows the two of you to the pier-like structure, a rocky outcrop covered in green organisms that squish underfoot, eliciting a mix of surprised noises from you and laughter from both danielle and her sister. the scene is serene, with the sound of waves lapping against the rocks in the background. 

danielle takes your hand, guiding you along despite the squishy algae underfoot. she shares another anecdote, this time about how she and her sister used to swim until they were the last ones in the water, far out where the bigger waves crashed. you listen intently, captivated by her storytelling, and without realizing it, your fingers intertwine. her hand may be smaller, but it fits perfectly in yours, as if they were meant to be connected all along.

as danielle reminisces, her eyes sparkle with fond memories, and a soft smile plays on her lips. the gentle breeze ruffles your hair as you both stand there, sharing a moment that feels suspended in time, it really feels like you’re stuck in time and place the longer you stare. her features are highlighted by the rays of sun shining and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of her.

“you guys look like a couple.”

at the same time, you and danielle turn your heads around, cheeks pooling with embarrassment. “hey!” danielle shouts, but her hand doesn’t leave yours, and neither does she step away from you.

the thought of looking like you’re together doesn’t bother you one bit, if anything, it seems right.

–

her, her family, and you all go to the last beach together with clothing suited for swimming. danielle ends up dragging you toward the water eagerly, she makes you trip and fall. the taste of saltwater overwhelms your tongue, and before you know it, you’re grabbing danielle and dragging her down with you.

laughter fills the air, her family joins in on the splashing, and her dad has managed to splash you so hard that you slip and fall again. the feeling is overwhelming, your heart might burst.

after you all spend time in the water, the rest of the time at the beach is spent on a towel where the sand is. you dig your feet into the sand, as you listen to her parents sharing stories that make you smile wide – you’ve already been smiling so much the whole trip, but they manage to make you smile more and more. it’s apparent that danielle is the way she is because of how wonderful her family is, and maybe you’re just as wonderful after being around her these past years.

“y/n, did you go to the beach often when you were younger?”

your head shoots up at the question her mom asked, you hum. 

“mhm.” your feet dig into the sand a little deeper. “we lived a one hour train ride from a really pretty beach, i learned how to swim there. my grandpa used to fish too, he’d catch one or two fish for us and make either a soup or grill it over rice. and sometimes he’d bring his ukulele so my grandma and i could sing as the sun started to set. i would always fall asleep and wake up on his shoulder as we boarded the train, and then on the way home i was always asleep on my grandma.”

it’s silent for a moment until danielle breaks it. “y/n, that’s so sweet.”

“yeah.” you fight back tears, biting your lip and managing a smile. “being at the beach with you all makes me as happy as i was then too.”

“well i’m really glad, your presence has given us much joy.” her dad says. you look up and giggle.

“yes, and i bet making me fall into the water did too.”

everyone laughs at the playful retort. all of you continue to reminisce and enjoy the scene until her mom decides it’s time to get going. danielle lingers near you, her arm linking with yours because she’s cold and you’re allegedly ‘almost as warm as the sun.’

danielle also lets you fall asleep against her, a light snore making her family turn their heads to see her taking a picture of you and smiling.

“you two are adorable, you know.” her mom says softly, not wanting to wake you up.

danielle nods. “she is.”

–

later that night danielle accompanies you on a late night walk. initially, you wanted to go alone to clear your mind – not that you were troubled, but because you needed designated alone time. however, danielle is a worrier, and for you, it’s tenfold.

her arm brushes yours every now and then, she doesn’t fill the silence knowing how you are. the feeling in the air is calming and every worry is gone.

you look ahead and practically breathe out, “dani.”

“yeah?”

“i’m really happy.”

“i’m glad.”

“like, so happy.”

she moves to hold your hand again, your fingers interwining purposefully. “i’m happy that you are.”

"i'm really overwhelmed," you sigh softly, finding respite on a small bench nestled in the park where you've wandered together. sitting beside her, you pause, a mix of happiness and longing evident in your eyes. "seeing you with your family... it just fills me with this warmth. you know, i've never had that closeness with my parents. they've never really understood or supported me. you know how it is." you confess, feeling her reassuring grip tighten around you.

you tilt your head back, gazing up at the sky painted in hues of twilight, a gentle smile gracing your lips. "i'm not jealous, not at all, like, seriously. it's just... i'm so happy. your family is so loving and wonderful, and you," you turn to meet her eyes, heart swelling with affection, "you're just... yeah, really great."

she laughs quietly, leaning against you so her head is on your shoulder.

“well, you’re really great too.”

“maybe.”

“definitely.”

-

danielle coaxes you into staying in her room for a bit. she’s laid next to you on her phone and you can hear the small breaths she takes. you’re hyperaware of everything, despite being on your phone. 

you notice the way she curls up closer to you, how she puts her phone down and turns to stare at you.

“what?”

“nothing, you can keep going on your phone.”

“well now i don’t want to.”

“aw, i guess you’ll have to pay attention to me then.”

your features soften upon meeting her.

danielle has always been a sight for sore eyes. you really just wanted to pursue your dreams, singing, dancing, and being on stage. you didn’t expect to be lying next to someone so ethereal, eyes bright even in the dimmed room, making your heart skip a few beats here and there. 

what are you thinking? you want to question, you want to know if she sees the same glow in you as you do with her. is this okay? what do we have?

“you’ve always been so pretty y/n.” she breaks the silence. her hand reaches over and her kunckles graze your skin. “i can never stop staring.”

uneasiness settles in, your heart starts to roll around in your chest. it’s terrifying, the thought that everything could be mutual. you’ve always been avoidant, and especially now with her staring at you like you’re the world and beyond, you’re trying to escape her hold. 

you turn your head away to face the ceiling. “you praise me too much.”

“everytime i look at you i think… you’re the person i want to wake up next to everyday, i want to cook us breakfast and make you more than just a bowl of yogurt and berries and–” you turn to face her again, and now she’s closer. “i want to be the one that sees the sun hit your face first thing in the morning.”

“danielle i–” it’s terrifying, you never thought you’d get this far. the drowsiness and the fact that it’s past twelve makes you hesitate, people just say things at this hour. “i should go to sleep.”

“stay,” she holds your wrist.

“i’m scared.”

her eyes soften. “of?”

your lips part, and suddenly, you can't recall why fear ever gripped you in the first place. allowing yourself to be embraced by the affection of the other members had been a daunting step, but growing under danielle's adoration felt as effortless as reciting your abcs. it came naturally, flowing with ease and simplicity. there was never a need to second-guess, never a hesitation.

she blinks, then her eyes land on your lips, and back to your eyes.

“i, i don’t know.”

“then stay.” she mumbles, her voice is soft and low before she takes your breath away.

she kisses you and everything around you fades into nothing because all you can focus on is her. the way her hand holds your face, so gently as if you might break if it were any rougher, makes you melt. you’ve never kissed anyone, but thankfully she’s the first. and the soft feeling of her top lip sliding in between your own lips makes you think that you really want her to be the last too.

she pulls away and you both pause for a moment, basking in the moment before meeting again. flowers bloom, waves crash, thunder claps; danielle is kissing you and nothing has every felt better.

the two of you pull away to stare at each other in awe, that is, until you lean in eagerly again it catches her by surprise. her arms are around your neck and she starts to giggle as you climb on top of her, peppering kisses along the curve of her jaw, down to her neck, and the dip of her collarbone. 

“i love you.” it sounds out like a prayer.

“i love you more.”

“no way.” you roll your eyes before attacking her with kisses again until she’s trying to push you off from how ticklish it all is.

the night draws to a close with your head nestled comfortably on danielle's shoulder, her fingers gently tracing soothing patterns on your scalp. a sense of calm settles over you both, sleep slowly claiming your consciousness. your heartbeats synchronize and your breathing steadies, the shared intimacy deepens, until you’re cocooned in a mutual understanding.

in the quiet of the night, danielle shifts, prompting you to instinctively roll closer, draping an arm over her from behind. your hands find each other naturally, fingers intertwining even while you’re both dead asleep.

-

[danielle PHONING update]

🐶: hi everyone! i’ve been on vacation 🐶: i’ve never been happier, really. 🐶: take care of yourselves and stay healthy! 🐶: i’m very happy, seriously attachment: six images

minji stares at the notification, still half asleep, but as she scrolls through each photo, a soft smile graces her lips. she admires the picturesque beach view, the shirt danielle had bought, and the adorable snapshot of her dog.

her eyes widen with surprise at the last three pictures, but a warmth spreads through her heart. in the first, she sees the side of your face against a backdrop of a stunning sunset. the next captures you and danielle leaning into each other, a moment of intimacy frozen in time. the final photo shows you gazing into the distance, danielle's hand playfully squishing your cheeks together, both of you making silly duck faces with laughter lighting up your eyes.

and then another notification pops up, making minji nearly choke on the water she had sipped on.

[danielle PHONING update]

🐶: almost forgot this one ;-) attachment: one image

the picture shows you being kissed on the cheek by danielle, your cheeks burning from the contact. 

a few seconds later she gets a call, the contact ‘bbang hanni’ popping up at the top of her screen. minji picks up immediately.

“did you see?”

“i saw.” minji says, still staring at the picture. “we are so interrogating them when they’re back.”

“good cop bad cop?”

“good cop bad cop.”

[01zfan]

venusian

producer!anton x alien!reader | 10k words

another installment of my rock the house seriez! this was fun to write even though it took me forever.

contains: face sitting, alot of implied sex, intergalactic booty call, anton catching feelings

rock the house masterlist

Anton gripped the metal of his fire escape, looking down at street below him.

He was a struggling artist, not the type that leaped over banisters down to oncoming traffic but the one that watched. He watched people like they were characters in movies, crafting stories for each single one. The student rushing to beat the light had an assignment waiting for them when they got home. The mother that had to pull her kids behind her on a plastic scooter worked all day, the man was looking at his phone was texting his mistress.

Honestly, it was too cold for Anton to be outside. He was also too busy to be doing this. He had a list of things to do before his band released their newest project. But like a thousand times before, the closer Venusian got to the release date of music Anton started getting sentimental and spending his time doing things he shouldn’t be doing. Procrastination is what Wonbin called it, Sohee referred to it as cold feet. In the deep corner of Internet somewhere they would say this was a product of Anton being a hack, and each project Venusian released, the world was closer to finding it out. 

Now, Anton couldn’t dispute this. He was talented, no one could take that away from him. From a young age he was able to play instruments at an advanced level and read classical music like it was a second language. Reading notes on a musical staff came to him faster than reading actual words in a book. He confused his teachers with his disdain for math when he was so easily able to divide a beat down to the hemidemisemiquaver. He was born with perfect pitch and a metronome built into his feet, and was able to memorize anything music related at the drop of a hat. 

Anton knew it would be to everyone’s dismay if they found out how often he lost faith in himself. Why would someone who was held in such high regard lose his poise so often? Why would someone so talented refuse to claim the section leader position when it so clearly belonged to him? Anton—and apparently the trolls on the Internet—knew the answers to these questions long before everyone else. He looked over the railing looking for inspiration because like he knew he was a musical prodigy, he also knows he doesn’t have a creative bone in his body.

He knew no one would understand. Creativity wasn’t sight reading music perfectly or being able to tune the other people in your section when they were off key. Creativity to Anton was being able to pull something from the depth of your mind. He would’ve settled for ideas coming to him slowly, but they didn’t come to him at all. Anton needed months to compose sheet music, and atleast a week notice if he had to improvise for the class. Everything he did was too refined, devoid of emotion. He blamed it on the classical cello lessons his mother put him in the moment he expressed an interest in music. He believed his young impressionable brain never had the ability to entertain the idea of music before the technical aspect of was shoved down his throat. He never got the luxury of being that kid that banged on pots and pans with abandon because he liked the way it sounded—he was the kid that had a private lessons teacher looming over him with a ruler in case he got anything wrong.

Anton lacked the complex understanding of the ebbs and flows of the music and where modern musicians fit into the crests. He was able to hide his failings as a musician until he made it to university, where each of his teachers seemed to pick up on it like a sixth sense. 

He believed he was cursed when his senior project called for him to write and produce a whole mini album. The technical aspect of it all didn’t frighten him, he knew the ins and outs of producing software. What scared Anton shitless was that he had nothing to produce. He could hear a note and know exactly where it landed but he could never find out why it was that note. What drove someone to sing in minor key instead of major key, what idea popped into someones mind to make something? 

Anton needed creativity if he wanted to graduate. At the very least enough to get him through five songs that were three to five minutes in length. He stayed after hours sitting in a practice room in silence looking for creativity, then he spent time drafting an extremely long and pitiful email to his faculty advisor. 

Right before Anton could press send and reveal his biggest secret, he met his first bandmate. 

(Technically, Anton heard Sohee before he met him. As he edited the final line of his email he heard the distinct voice of someone in the practice room beside his. The soundproof walls couldn’t block the voice next door. Anton perked up, straightening his slouched back as he listened, really listened to the voice next to him. Even when the voice would chip away after losing air or crack when his throat would become strained Anton knew the voice was special. The organic sound was refreshing, it drew Anton in so much that his pitiful email was long forgotten. 

He left the practice room and peaked through the window. He looked at the back of Sohee’s head as he continued to sing, his hand gripping tightly on the music stand in front of him. When Sohee tipped his head back and another beautiful falsetto note bled through the door, Anton walked right in. He was able to connect a face to the voice, someone he had seen before. The nursing major in the music theory class Anton was a teacher’s aide for. Anton remembers Sohee’s reason for joining the class was to fulfill a requirement.)

From there the rest was history. Anton spoke with his foot in his mouth, the sudden idea of having someone sing on his final project coming out in a huff. Sohee looked from side to side before letting a confused huh? ring through the practice room. Anton only repeated himself in the same rushed manner, followed by him mentioning his final project.

Sohee kept the same confused tone and his hand still gripped his music stand from the exertion of hitting high notes as Anton explained his final project. Sohee didn’t really listen until Anton started flexing his knowledge in music, talking about being flatand breath control, things Sohee knew he had trouble with. 

Then, he started listening. He even worked his schedule around ever so slightly to fit their practice and recording sessions into the day. A week later, when the only thing Anton had to show for was song covers, Wonbin came around. He was in the same situation as Anton, up Shit Creek with no paddle and a final project that needed to be finished if he wanted to graduate. 

Everything was luck. Anton was lucky that he was able to turn in a completed mini album for his final project. He was lucky that his teacher practically forced him to upload the album to a streaming platform due to how refined it was for a senior project. Anton was extremely lucky that the blossoming indie community attached themselves to his work. He was lucky that he found his album earn a shining review from Pitchfork, and countless streams on his songs every night. 

Something that was a stroke of luck fueled by energy drinks and the overwhelming feeling of getting a failing grade on a final project made Anton, Sohee, and Wonbin famous. By the time school ended they were on the list of albums to listen to and in the middle of the sweltering heat of the summer the news broke. Senior Project by Unnamed was ranked as the Top 50 Indie Albums of the Decade. 

After that everyone found out about them pretty quickly. Wonbin couldn’t go on MySpace without it crashing. Sohee’s parents called him crying that their son was singing on the radio. Anton’s heart rate hadn’t been a normal BPM since early April.

The pressure to release something and have it be as good as the accident weighed heavy on him. The sole producer of his trio—and the de facto leader—couldn’t make a beat to save his life. The mere thought of sitting down and crafting something left him even more stumped than he was before. 

But before Anton could confess to Sohee and Wonbin that he couldn’t deliver the same way he did on Senior Project, he found out they were all in. Sohee dropped out of medical school and Wonbin quit his day job. Wonbin spent his earnings on a new guitar and Sohee spent his on vocal lessons. Anton was considering spending his money on a one-way plane ticket to Hawaii and never looking back. They couldn’t make you produce an album if they didn’t know where you were. He could’ve been sipping Mai Tai’s looking at the Oahu sunset but instead he sat out on the curb of Sohee’s apartment complex with his head in his hands as Wonbin and Sohee tried to understand what was wrong. 

Anton for the first time in his life voiced that although he was a prodigy, he had nothing to show for it. The confession came out like vomit, splattering on the concrete and warming underneath the sun. Wonbin looked up to the clouds while Sohee twisted his head away in defeat. Anton felt actual bile raise in his throat as grasshoppers rubbed their legs together in the silence.

Wonbin put a hand to his face to block the sun. Anton heard the muffled shock of Sohee saying he dropped out of med school for this. Then, as if lack of creativity could be cured in a weekend, Wonbin gave his recommendation.

“Let’s buy a van and go sleep in the forest. Completely disconnect with the world and reconnect with nature.” 

Wonbin said it so happily, backed with the reasoning that some rock band neither Sohee or Anton had heard of has done it before. Apparently the band went on a societal cleanse and came back to create  one of the best albums ever made.

(Years later, Anton listened to the album and hated Every. Single. Song.)

 In any other instance Anton would’ve called Wonbin crazy, but the lack of an album and the increasing pressure from everyone wanting a new body of work pushed Anton into reluctantly saying yes. So within the week Anton blew some of his earnings on a van, the three packed their bags and went to camp in the dense forest an hour away from their hometown. Wonbin’s words played again and again in Anton’s mind as he stayed in the passenger seat. He looked for creativity in the tall trees. Anton looked for it all and stayed in the front seat in an effort to see it first. 

When the sun no longer gave him light he switched to the flashlight in the glove compartment, keeping it close to his page full of marked out lyrics and mindless ramblings. He couldn’t think of anything else without lingering on each failed attempt. One of the last things that wasn’t crossed out was the tiny print at the bottom of the page. You’re not going to make it stared at him, it caused his flashlight to go out and it made a headache form right in the center of Anton’s head.

He came to the shocking discovery then and there that he was a one hit wonder, that he was lucky to have famous song on that found its way from an obscure streaming site to the biggest social media platform. His unnamed bands overnight success would dwindle within the week, and they would go back to living their regular pedestrian lives.

Anton finally gave up when he made it to the bottom of his page. He let the flashlight take a break in the cupholder between the two front seats and closed his notebook. He opened the glove compartment and slammed it shut a little too hard, not caring a bit when Wonbin groaned from the back of the van. Anton looked back to see Wonbin and Sohee dangerously close to cuddling as they both shared a single blanket on top of the small inflatable mattress. 

Anton turned away and rolled the window down by the plastic crank and stuck his head out as if inspiration would be carried into the van by the gentle wind. He balanced his head on his arm that hung out the window and sighed. He thought about the lyrics Wonbin wrote, how his bandmate had no instrumental to put it over. The sinking feeling Anton got at the thought of Sohee and Wonbin waking up tomorrow even more worried about the future of the band suffocated him. 

He opened the van door and shut it so hard the van rocked. 

Anton tried to find inspiration in the sound of twigs snapping underneath his foot, the absence of sound as the trees blew in the wind. He walked to the side of the van and leaned against it, hoping that something would whisper to him in the dead quiet of the night. 

When nothing came and only the moon shined down on him, Anton let out another sigh. He leaned his head back until he felt the large window of the van press his hair flat. He looked directly up to the moon, the only thing that seemed to be awake like him. The stars in the sky were shining bright, or maybe they were normal—Anton couldn’t remember the last time he looked to the night sky. He closed his eyes and fisted his hands so tight he could feel his nails dig into his palm. He pressed his head against the glass even harder, trying to remember the last time in his life he was so desperate for results. He drew in a breath, parted his lips, and screwed his eyes shut.

“Please give me something.” Anton whispered into the night.

When he opened his eyes he started laughing at himself for how ridiculous he sounded. Wishing on planets and stars for inspiration like he was a child. Talking to God like he wasn’t a man of science. He considered waking up Wonbin and Sohee to tell them that this wouldn’t work out. Dissolving the band before it even has a man, carrying on with their lives like they didn’t have the most downloaded EP on iTunes.

Anton looked down at his hands, spreading out his fingers so far he felt the stretch. These hands could play Flight of the Bumblebee with ease and could write a paper on music theory overnight, how could they not produce a song? Anton looked at the callouses on his fingers in the moonlight, twisting and turning the rings on his fingers to feel something. Everything about him was hard to the touch, but he felt so incredibly soft. Like he was about to cry, despite not being blessed with the talent of music. 

Anton wiggled his fingers again and felt the urge to curse at them. His eyes drifted to the shadow that was cast underneath him onto the ground.

He was still staring at his fingers when the white light of the moon shifted to a muted green. The change was so sudden Anton blinked first, making sure that his eyes weren’t failing him. When he realized the color being casted on him became hidden by the clouds, he looked up to the sky again. He saw something in the sky, a white cloud trailing behind it. Anton followed its path in the sky, walking around the edge of the van as it came closer and closer to making an impact on the Earth.

Anton’s first reaction was to drop his jaw. Then to pound on the side of the van, as if waking up the only two people on the planet more clueless than him would help. He mindlessly followed, stepping on leaves and twigs and tripping over things as he saw the thing come even closer. Right in front of Anton it crashed into the trees, then straight into the ground. Everything moved around him, he went backwards to hide behind the protection of the van. Underbrush was uprooted from the speed of the wind caused by the impact. 

Anton looked bak up to the sky. White moonlight replaced the green. He looked around. The sound of something falling was replaced with the normal sounds of the night. He looked down. The Earth didn’t split down the middle.

“What just happened?” Anton said to himself quietly. 

He peaked past the van, looking right where the crater would be. Past the lining of trees, less than a two minute walk away. Anton should get back in his car and drive away. But the fact that something unbelievable needs to happen to him made him stay in the same spot.

Anton debated for a long time on if he should take a step closer. More leaves and twigs snapped underneath his foot as he crossed by the van entirely. His blood went cold and everything in him told him to turn around. He should put the key in the ignition of his car and drive away. But he took another step. Then another. Anton creeped past the tree line walking like a prey animal. He looked back to the stationary white van behind him. There was still a chance to go back, but the something unbelievable was calling to him. Anton took the last step to make it to the edge of the crater before looking in.

His hair stood on end when he looked down into the impact on the earth. The circumference of the crater was the length of two vans put together, but it was deep. So deep that the bottom was almost hidden by the night. Anton had to bend down close to look deeper. 

When Anton saw something move in the crater, he was gone. He no longer was looking for something unbelievable to happen to him, inspiration be damned. He cleared out of the forest to make it to the van, opening up the back with an incredible amount of speed. The momentum caused the car to shake, and Anton’s hands were on the shoulders of his bandmates in seconds.

“A girl fell from the sky.” Anton said it quickly, shaking Wonbin’s shoulder harshly.

Wonbin tilted his head to the side as Anton continued to relay what he saw. He blinked his eyes once, twice, then a third time as he tried to comprehend what was being said to him.

“Is that the name of the album?” Wonbin said, groggy voiced as he rubbed one of his eyes.

Anton shook his head angrily before trying to catch his breath. 

“Green Comet…” Anton huffed, suddenly realizing his vision was starting to spot. The adrenaline and the confirmed sighting of an extra-terrestrial being made him feel dizzy. “Fell from the sky. She’s in a crater.” He huffed.

When Wonbin moved from the pallet of clothes and blankets, Sohee did the same. His eyes fluttered open but stayed partially closed. His hair was bumped on one side as he also tried making sense of what Anton was saying.

“Are those song titles?” Sohee asked.

His voice was high-pitched and whiny, Anton knew he was angry from the lack of sleep and being woken up in the middle of the night. There were more important things happening. They needed to call the cops, they needed to call the press.

Anton continued shaking his friends awake, but the lack of mentioning a song title, album name, or anything music related made them go back to sleep. Anton watched in dismay as the two laid their heads back down, ignoring and turning away from his hands that were trying to will them awake. The only thing they did was move their shoulders out of his reach, one of them grumbling wake us up when you have a song finished.

Just as Anton was about to climb into the back of the van to shake his bandmates awake, he heard leaves and twigs snap. His full body froze, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and his throat was suddenly dry. The spring night suddenly felt cold as he felt a presence behind him.

When Anton first heard a voice, he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to acknowledge whoever was speaking to him. He wanted to heave his body into the back of the van and shut the doors behind him. He wanted to speed off back to civilization, at the very least he wanted to scream and wake his bandmates up. But Anton couldn’t do anything, he didn’t move an inch when he felt the presence take another step.

“Where am I?” You repeated

Anton quickly told you that you were in the quiet midwest of America. He said you were on planet Earth, and some other things he forgot now. He was rambling at the mouth, he’s sure he started telling secrets of his own at some point. He’s in a band. He’s a hack. He has no creativity. He’s scared that you’re getting closer. He thinks you’re going to abduct him and probe him and he’s going to be your human prisoner for the rest of his life.

At some point between your first step and your last step, Anton closed his eyes. He prepared for death, his life flashed before his eyes, everything. But then you grabbed his hands. He felt warm all over, his rambling stopped and his fear was replaced with something else. The turbulence in his mind cleared and everything stopped making sound around him. The wind stopped blowing, Wonbin stopped snoring, everything felt peaceful. 

Then, when Anton opened his eyes you were gone. All traces of you vanished into the night. Reality came back slowly. Anton clasped his hands hard, then looked down at them again. He was no different. He wasn’t being beamed up into the sky, he wasn’t hurt. He was suddenly alone again outside, the trees and the sounds came back to him like they never left. He could also clearly hear the beginning chord to a song and a name for his band. 

Anton heard everything, the longer he stared at his hands the more inspiration struck. He heard it all, he could see it all so clearly. The album name, song titles, album covers, music videos. Anton was up for the rest of the night, filling out pages and pages in his notebook until his hand could no longer hold the pen straight.

Sometimes Anton could still feel the pain in his hand from writing all night. He flexed his hand that gripped the railing, closing his palm in on itself before leaning closer to the banister. He looked behind him to his apartment. The studio door was wide open, and had to audibly sigh to try and relieve some of that burden.

The word had dropped nearly three months ago that a new album was coming. A rumor that wasn’t really a rumor, and once people caught wind of it there was no use in denying it. Their recording company was already reaching out about any possible singles. Wonbin started already reinventing himself. Sohee was sending Anton lyrics everyday in hopes of getting the music faster. 

The only way he was able to get a break from everything was to say he needed time to collect and recenter himself. What this meant for his colleagues was to go on a weeklong coke fueled bender. What that meant for Anton was to look at foot traffic in the street below him hoping to see his alien girlfriend-who-is-not-his-girlfriend.

He learned that you would always come when he least expected you to. Washing up on the beach during his vacation to Vietnam. Offering him a wine glass at an industry party. Appearing as room service during his stay at a hotel abroad. He wasn’t sure what summoned you. He was always so used to the feeling of not being inspired that he never knew when he was about to reach a breaking point. 

But you always did.

The first time you appeared and he found you in the forest, when he thought he was going to die but he lived and Venusian and the chords for the first EP was in his head.

The second time you appeared was outside of a diner. Anton spent the whole day disconnected from the world, enjoying an AYCE sushi special instead of finishing the vocal mixing on the first single when you appeared across the street. Locked in the phone booth right in Anton’s line of sight the moment he lifted his head from his salmon roll. 

He thought he was seeing things at first. By this point in time he had convinced himself that seeing you in the forest was the product of starvation, anxiety, and sleep deprivation. In the morning when he finally got Sohee and Wonbin to come and see where you landed, they said it was only the beginnings of a construction site. So Anton told himself you were just a very real figment of his imagination. But across the street you were very real and you were beckoning for him to come to you.

In the phone booth, Anton finally had a conversation with you. Cramped in after you pulled him inside you two had a formal interaction. To offset how normal the greeting was you told him you were not from this planet. Anton thought he was imagining things again. He shook his head and smiled waiting for the punchline of your joke, and an actual explanation as to why you fell from the sky and asked where you were so honestly. 

Anton doesn’t remember speaking very much in the phone booth. His first reaction was to shiver from the feeling of the hairs raising on the back of his neck. His second was to deny you not being from this planet. You talked like a human, you smelled like a human, you looked like a human. Then you said something ridiculous like being human is relative, which ended up being a track name on Venusian’s first full length album She Fell From the Sky.

(Anton could’ve named the album My Girlfriend Fell From the Sky Because She is an Alien and no one would’ve done anything about it. No one second guesses the names or titles indie bands use for their titles, but giving you the title of girlfriend seemed a little presumptuous.)

He found out on your third visit when you knocked on his door in a private studio that you kissed better than any human being ever has. You two kissed better than people could, all of his past experiences and stories he heard paled in comparison. The way you leaned in close, hovering over him while he basically shook in his office chair. You looked so beautiful standing above him, you smiled to ease him into you. You pressed your lips to his so softly and his hands went to your waist, holding onto you. You weren’t able to disappear into thin air. That night you kissed Anton goodbye, he was able to see you leave, and he was able to get you to promise you’d come back. 

When you closed the studio door behind you, Anton did what any artist would do. He turned the situation he found himself in to profit. All the confusion and love and lust from an alien he’s met a handful of times, who appears and disappears on her own accord. An alien who always knows where he is and when he needs her. Always smells so good, and looks at him so intensely it literally sparks creativity. Someone who his bandmates thinks is fake. He put all of that—and much more—into the second album. My Girlfriend is an Alien. A little on the nose, but it was green lit nonetheless. The album featured tracks such as i hope you’re real, please meet my friends, imaginary friend, and star/meteor. 

On the fourth visit Anton found out you were a fan. He knew because you liked the song come to my apartment next time, and no one liked that song. A dud on the album but something you felt like was just for you. You called him on the phone in his hotel across the world, just when he was about to fall asleep. You talked to him but didn't tell him where you were, it sounded like you were driving or laying in bed and kicking your feet and writing in your journal. Before you could hang up and disappear for an undisclosed amount of time he had questions ready. In his notebook next to lyrics he looks at the chicken scratch in the margins, the hotel phone caught between his shoulder and ear as he made sure to speak clearly into the receiver.

“Will you come when I ask you to?” 

“No.” 

“Will you come when I need you to?”

“Yes.”

“How will I know when you will be here?”

“You don’t.”

“What’s your favorite song by Venusian?”

That was the question that stumped you. You were silent for a moment, the crackling sound of a connection. Anton looked at the lamp on the bedside table, staring at it until it left an imprint in his vision. He thought the line had disconnected before you spoke.

“The ones you write about me, of course.”

All of them were about you, he couldn't tell you that before you told him that you loved him and had to go. Without a doubt in Anton’s mind, every song was about you. Even when Wonbin wrote the lyrics, they were always about an elusive figure that was appearing in and out of someone’s life. When Sohee wrote lyrics, they were about wanting something. On the rare occasion the song wasn’t about you, the bands name itself was a homage to you. He never asked if you were from Venus because he thought it'd be rude, but he wished on that planet before you came down in a crater his bandmates thought was a construction site.

He couldn’t escape you, but no one even knew you existed. Sometimes Anton didn’t even know you existed. He searched harder in the street. He saw a school teacher finally heading home. Someone with a coffee cup, spilling it on themselves because they were walking too fast. Taxi driver smoking on the corner, letting possible clients pass him to hop in the cars of his competition. A woman walking down the sidewalk, past the smoker and the school teacher and the spill on the person shirt. Her pace got slower and slower until she came to a stop right in front of his building.

Anton looked further down, leaning even closer to the banister. The metal railing pressed into his stomach, going right through his thin shirt as he looked down. Foot traffic continued around her. From the high floor of Anton's apartment his hair started blowing, whipping forward and closing his eyes. The woman in front of Anton's apartment building was unmoving, so was he. If Sohee was here he would've believed it to be the paparazzi, Wonbin would've thought it was a coincidence. But Anton knew before you looked up. The hat and sunglasses you had on obstructed the view of your face, but Anton knew. All you had to do was point towards the front door before Anton was turning on his heel, running through his apartment until he made it to the front door.

Anton cleared his apartment a little too fast to ring you up. He kept his eyes glued to the front camera of the building as you walked up the steps. When the buzzer sounded off you smiled, pulling at the large door before you walked out of frame of the camera. 

Anton imagined you coming up the stairs. He swore he could hear you from floors away, your heeled shoes coming through his apartment building as you made your way to him. He could hear the elevator music from his living room, and he could see you looking at the red number climb until you were at his floor. He wasn’t sure how you knew, but you always knew. He stopped asking questions long ago. He was just so happy to see you, a relieved smile coming across his face as he opened his door to you standing there.

“Did you miss me?” You asked.

Anton nodded, pulling you by your arm to get you to come inside. He learned to not waste time when you were here. No more shy greetings or acting amazed when you’d show up. He learned to think about your surprise appearance when he was alone. He helped you take off your hat and shades to put it on the table at the entryway. He guided your jacket off of your arms as you looked up to the high ceilings.

“This place is so big just for one person.” You said quietly.

Anton didn’t know how you lived. He didn’t know where you lived either. Venus was the presumed place, but it could've been the moon. Both were visible when he made his wish that night. He didn’t know if millionaire musicians lived in gigantic lofts by themselves where you came from. He could’ve had roommates. Sohee and Wonbin always wanted to stay with him during the album creation process, to really get involved in the body of work. Venusian tours made Anton encounter his fair share of groupies that wanted him. He could’ve had one of them as a live in girlfriend that uses his money to buy drugs and his fame as an aphrodisiac. But Anton preferred to live alone, even if he had a guest room littered with things he’d think you like in between your visits.

Anton continued guiding your jacket off, then the fleece button up you had on underneath. You always complained about the cold. Anton imagined wherever you came from was always in an eternal spring compared to the frigid weather here. You liked the weather in Puerto Vallarta the most. You came to Anton on a pool floatie saying you could get used to the weather here. You hated it the most in Germany. You emerged from a snow bank when Anton was leaving the convenience store late at night. You were shaking like a leaf then, and Anton gave you his jacket and had to spend the whole night warming you up.

(At first the sentiment was innocent. He offered you all the blankets his room had to offer, and then you said you needed body heat. His huffs of hot air was sticking to your skin, and you were clinging to him for dear life. He repeated how badly he wanted to warm you up as he covered his body with yours, and hushed you over and over again when you were running out of breath. You were both sweating by the time the Sun came up, and then you said you were finally warm enough to go home.)

He knows you probably hate the weather now. But you bite your tongue to stop you from saying how cold it is even when you’re shivering. You just walk fully into Anton’s living room, sitting in the middle of the couch before you tap the spot next to you.

Anton is uninspired. He’s not creative. That’s why you’re here. Offering your magic touch again, his next Grammy nomination and wave of accolades is waiting for him on his large couch.

He follows in your footsteps, discarding his robe on the chair next to the couch. In his plain black tee and sweats Anton gets on the couch, climbing on until he rests his head in your lap. Even with all this space he’s too big. His foot dangles over the edge of the couch, and you let out a soft grunt when he lays his head on you. He doesn’t care because this is enough. When your fingers massage his scalp he closes his eyes, trying to will the stress away.

Anton felt you stir underneath him, and he already felt the stress coming back. He instinctually reached a hand to your arm, trying to keep you there. When he realized you were only repositioning yourself his hand left your wrist, going to his chest. He rubbed the fabric of his shirt and hummed the beginning of a song.

He looked forward as your hands carded through his hair, flattening out the bits that were sticking up.

“Where were you this time?” Anton asked.

“Your kind haven't discovered it yet. But I came back pretty fast this time, didn't I?” You asked.

Anton nods his head against your fingers because you did come back faster this time. When Venusian was just beginning you used to appear every week, when the band was at its peak the longest Anton was left waiting for you was two years. Before you showed up at his apartment today you called him over the phone a month and a half ago. Your voice crackled through the speakers and you sounded like you were somewhere far away. Anton almost asked you if there was reception on Venus, but instead he decided to put it in a song. Not knowing the answer made him look for it himself, and that’s how he came up with the idea of the first single for Venusian’s upcoming album. 

Anton remembers the last conversation you guys had over the phone. He asked you if you were real for the hundredth time and you laughed before saying yes. He asked if you’re real why can’t he reach out and touch you and you said he would just have to save it for next time. So Anton opens his eyes and reaches up with one hand, until he can feel your cheek underneath his fingers. His other hand wraps around your hand in his hair, and he keeps eye contact with you while you look down at him. It’s really not fair that you get to come and go as you please. You should stay here with him, be his live-in alien girlfriend who helps him write music. You wouldn’t even have to do housework, he’d hire someone to do that. He can get whatever people eat on Venus shipped right to his doorstep just for you.

Anton holds you tighter, there’s silence and you moving your legs underneath his head again. From this spot on your lap all Anton can focus on is you. You two are floating in space together, holding eachother’s hands. Anton thinks about a spaceship and then Star Trek, and then the parts of you that he couldn’t touch over the phone. He was telling you about it long after the phone call suddenly disconnected until he was shaking and his body was covered in sweat. 

“How’s the music thing going?” You asked.

The question was asked just to fill the silence, because you wouldn’t be here if Anton wasn’t struggling with the music thing. If Anton could finish the mixing on this song you’d still be floating around space somewhere and Venusian’s latest album would’ve already hit streaming platforms. 

Anton sits up from your lap and your hands combing through his hair. Even though he lets go of your hands he still feels them close, and when he turns around to face you on the couch you have them pressed in the space between your two bodies. You look like you want to reach out and touch him. Anton feels your pull, he sees your eyes focus on him after running down his body. He put his hands on your shoulders then your face, forcing you to look at him and only him. 

“It’s going well.” He couldn’t believe that your face was already becoming hot to the touch. Anton watched you become so bothered you didn’t correct his lie, only nodding against his hand. “Did you hear the new single?” He asked.

Anton watched your hands finally leave the edge of the couch to go to his thighs. Nothing about you was alien. He knew you well, he knew your hands would go underneath his shirt to touch his soft stomach. Anton knew you’d look down first then to him as you let your head rest in the palm of his hand. 

“It was pretty. Felt like you were singing to me.” 

“Well,” Anton trained himself to never answer the question directly when he’d be asked who his muse was. Wonbin always said he sang about love he never found and Sohee said he was singing about an idea. “who else would I be singing to?” Anton 

“Thought maybe you went out and got yourself a girlfriend.” You say.

Anton smiled to hearing that. Like he wasn’t waiting everyday for you to materialize. He could never waste his time dating when he spent all of it waiting for you and making music. He only shook his head, bringing you closer by the hold on your face. 

“I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Oh yeah?” Your hand left his hair after pulling it one last time. Anton looks up at you sideways as you tilt your head. “I was thinking about you too."

He knows he's being dramatic, because just the thought of you somewhere thinking of your human boyfriend makes him smile. He already thinks of a bonus track for the album think about me will be the title, and he will get Wonbin to write something beautiful about a couple in love. He'll pair it with a beat that's light and sounds like someone's dreams, then end it with the sound of a phone disconnecting. He might even pair it with a music video.

"What were you thinking about when you were thinking about me?" You ask.

Anton has done this dance with you plenty of times. He knows that you’re here to breathe creativity into him, like the fate of his world depends on it. Fuck or die, fuck or never make another song again—it’s the same thing in Anton’s mind. But he still falls victim to your ability to raise the tension, like it was the first time all over again. Back then he was all nerves, thinking about music and how you were his sign from the universe that everything would be alright. He spent more time on his knees than he ever did in his life, he was drained but you kept wanting more. Sometimes Anton can remember the exhaustion vividly, and he also remembers when he woke up the next morning he knew exactly what he was going to do for that collaboration with his favorite artist.

You’re here now, countless save-his-career fucks later and still looking at him like you haven’t gotten enough. He sits up from your lap and turns to face you.

“I was thinking about the last time I saw you,” Anton’s hands start moving to the side of your face then down to your waist. You’re already moving to straddle him. “and you did that think I really like.” He continues.

Anton watches you look down at him and he wonders what’s going on in your head. He remembers last time you were here and you said sincerely he should get a girlfriend. He asked if you had a boyfriend on Venus but recanted his question immediately, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle the answer. He has been making happy music as of late and didn’t want to change that.

Now you looked at him like he was delicate, your little human boy toy you entertained between periods of floating around space.

“I was thinking I just need you so I can get inspiration for this song.” He didn’t mind if he was nothing but an intergalactic booty call. Sometimes it felt like you did things for his benefit, like showing up at to him when he needed you the most. Your hands went to his face and he felt his heart stop. He swears he doesn’t mind.

“How many times do I have to tell you Anton, it’s all you?” You started letting your hips rest heavy on his lap, and he could feel how warm you were all around him. You can say all you want that your fingertips don’t have magical powers, but he has already found a chord for the lyrics Sohee sent him the other day. “You’re talented, just stressed and—” He presses your hips deeper into his, until you feel him twitching in his pants. “You’re already hard?”

Anton is helpless against you. You’re extra-terrestrial, that has already been established, but there’s something more. The planet Venus must have blessed you with powers. Anton's hand goes to the back of your neck and brings you closer.

“I just need a little bit more.” Anton murmurs against your lips.

Before you can speak Anton brings his other hand to reach into your pants, pushing his hand in your panties. Instantly you arched from the touch, when he applied pressure you swiveled your hips. He’s been here before, he’s been here a million times. An intergalactic booty call on his Italian leather sofa. You're already doing the thing he likes, where you whimper and push your tongue into his mouth. The simple action makes him already falter, becoming your puppet so easily.

Anton doesn’t know what you have in store for him. After discovering he was already hard the look in your eye changed, and your idea of comforting his feelings of inadequacy shifted to something different. 

He’s been holed up in this apartment for more than a week, and he hadn’t made a new friend in God knows how long. Anton forgot how to interact with people beyond his bandmates, and he felt ill-equipped to keep the conversation going with an alien. You’re here, getting off of his lap until his hands follow after you and you’re standing in front of him. When the coffee table is too close to you Anton wastes no time pushing it away with his foot, giving you enough space in front of him. You don’t say anything about it, instead bringing your hands to the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head.

Your shirt is balled in your hands then it’s obstructing Anton’s vision. He pulls it into his lap too quick to see you messing with the waistband of your jeans, shimmying out of it before pushing it down your legs. You came all the way from Venus in a matching set, all for him. He’s lied by saying he just needs a little more. Whatever happens each time you leave has only made him worse, and only makes him crave more. Each time you leave he’s left with a sense of this being the last time. 

When you come back to him in your bra and panties he’s too rash. Instead of guiding you to his lap Anton  gets on his back. He doesn’t tell you what he needs when you try to adjust to the sudden change. When you still try to go to his lap Anton’s hand on your wrist stops you. You look at Anton and it takes both of you too many dragging seconds to see what Anton is silent hinting at. He’s missed your touch, your voice, and your taste. When you realize it your eyebrows are raised nearly to your hairline, and he’s still guiding your body towards his face. 

From that point everything happened pretty fast. You asked Anton a million times if he was sure and said yes without fail. When you finally situated yourself with your knees on either side of his head, he knew this was what he needed. The skewed perspective of you down here, his hands on your thighs trying to guide you down. Feeling you cage him in and you taking up all his senses was what he needed. But you were still unsure, even with Anton’s eyes honing in on the pretty pattern of the panties he was determined to eat through you hesitated above him.

“You’ll stop me if you can’t breathe right?” You fought against his hands trying to bring you down. Every breath he took fanned your heat, he could already see the fabric forming to you. “I really couldn’t deal with the guilt if I killed you.” You said.

Anton thought this would be an amazing way to die. Suffocating between thighs and drowning in you. Could aliens be persecuted on Earth? Would you just go back to Venus and never come back?

“Anton.” He looked from your heat back up to you. You tried leaning back to see more of his face but his hold on you kept you in place. “Are you listening to me?” You asked.

“Yes. I’m listening.” He almost went crosseyed focusing back on your center. One of your hands went to grip the armrest past Anton’s head, preemptively giving yourself something to stabilize your body with. He dragged his words out, purposefully letting his breath fan your clammy skin. You were twitching for him already. He pulled you down again. “I’ll tell you, I promise.”

He was grateful his plea was what made you give in. One more tug at your thighs and you were lowering yourself on his mouth, and Anton was sticking out his tongue to lave your panties that covered your clit. He felt you hovering your weight above his head, scared to give him all of it, then he pushed your panties to the side. Almost immediately Anton felt more of your weight and your thighs close around his head. He felt your body lean forwards and he heard your exasperated breath, then a whimper that told him you were getting used to this. He lifted you only a second to drop you directly on his tongue, and he started sucking and licking whatever he could touch. 

Your thighs were shaking around his head, and Anton was becoming increasingly aware of his own body. His dick was twitching in his pants, with each jump or sound you made he was beginning to feel the tension rising along his entire body. He needed more. He was almost there, he almost had the chord or the arrangement. Revelation was on the tip of his tongue. Anton's fingers kept your underwear pushed to the side, he could feel the wet cotton sticking to the side of his face. He hummed again, and you pitched forward to grab the armrest of his couch for stability.

"Do you want me to touch you?" You asked the question quickly. You two made eye contact, his words of just needed you to get off was trapped between your legs. Even if you heard him he knew it'd be lost on him. You were too giving, and he revealed that one of his favorite things in this life was when you'd touch him.

You push yourself from the armrest of the couch and reach behind you, instantly pressing into the bulge. He's so strung up stimulation feels like pain, he's ready to pop at any moment. He hasn't been touched since he saw you last, and he couldn't think of doing anything for himself when you weren't here. Part of being from a different world must mean that your touch goes right through fabric. When your hand cups over his pants it's like you're gripping him in your own hands.

Whatever it is you're doing to him is too juvenile for him to cum first. It almost becomes a competition, he becomes greedy. He tongues you until he pushes past the ring of muscle, sucking on whatever his lips touch. Anton pushed on your ass until it pushed you forward, where his nose bumped your clit. His other hand wrapped around the top of your thigh and pushed you back. He repeated the motion, sucking harder each time your body hitched from you bumping into his nose. When he stopped guiding you Anton was grateful you abandoned more of your inhibitions to repeat the motions on your own. He was grateful that his pleasure became an after thought. You abandoned his dick completely to lean forward again, to press your hand to your lower stomach to really focus grinding on his face. Anton could feel you over his body, but your slick coated his chin. You You were making a mess on his lips too, moaning louder than the sounds he was making between your legs. 

Anton was too busy watching the way your stomach tensed and relaxed each time you ground your hips on his face that he was getting lost. Between notes and songwriting and everything else he was grinding against nothing, his legs draped over the other end of the couch and his body tensed up. You were becoming rigid above him too, your hand in his hair pulled roughly as your body came increasingly heavy on his lips. Anton still drove you forward, until your clit bumped his nose over and over again. You shifted on top of him to fully ride his face, bucking on him over and over.

"Close." You whimpered. Anton felt your hand grip his hair, keeping him in place. He was getting smothered by you, your thighs came close to his face and kept him caged in. "Close, Ton. You're always so good for me."

Anton nodded and continued the motion. He guided you easily, through your body shaking above him. He still continued to suck, until your thighs shook around his head. When you looked down at him Anton kept going, even when you tried lifting your body again he kept you there. He was so close, he just needed a little more. His hands on your waist was rough, he could see your skin dimpling underneath his fingers. He vocalized how he needed you to hold on, but it was hard to break through your noises and how your body was muffling him. 

When you finally froze above him, Anton could taste all of you. He continued sucking even when you pulled even harder at his hair. You had to shake your head and cry out to finally get him to stop. You melted above him, it was Anton who had to lift you off of his face. He watched you stagger on your knees forward, he tiled his head to follow your movements until you were leaning against the edge of the couch.

Both of you had to catch your breath. Anton sat up fully to see you mold into the couch, your chest raising and lowering. He was a little bit more composed, save for the way his hair stuck to his forehead and his entire face glistening with you and sweat.

"Did that help with your writers block?"

Suddenly, everything hits Anton at once. He stands up from the couch, still painfully hard and face flushed, leaving you in your seat. Anton peaks past the doorway of his bedroom to stare directly at you.

"Don't leave." He says quickly before disappearing past the doorframe.

Anton woke up from the sun coming through his window. He forgot to draw the blinds last night, leaving him blinking and already fighting through a headache. He blinked to try and adjust to the light, moving from his side to the other. His door was open. He remembered closing it last night. He also remembered you being on the bed next to him, but he went to sleep knowing you wouldn’t be here in the morning. Still while he faced the open door his other hand mindlessly ran over the spot you were laying last night. He still felt a crater in the sheets where you laid and he swore you left your perfume there too. When he took a deep breath in he could smell you, and he could still taste you too. 

When he looked past the open door he could see the mess you two left in the living room. There was a moment you two were having a heart to heart and the next you were pushing things off the coffee table. His expensive glass fruit bowl was surely chipped if not broken, and he had his throw pillows and blankets laying on the floor. He was still waking up when the buzzing sound from across the bed pulled his attention back to his room. Anton had to crawl over your side of his bed to his nightstand, unplugging his phone and mindlessly unlocking it.

He meandered on the homescreen, blinking constantly as he tried to jumpstart his mind. He even looked away from his phone completely for a moment, focusing on the quiet of his room as he let his thoughts come back to him. He remembered what he was doing the moment his eyes landed on his home studio. He looked at the turn tables and his computer screen that was still awake. He still had the file he was working on open. Anton recalled the song as he clicked on Wonbin’s phone number in his call log.

Anton brought his phone to his face and listened to it ring. He went back down to laying on his bed, one side pressed into the mattress as he kept his phone balanced on the other side. Anton even let his eyes close again as the phone continued to ring. He let out a yawn, fully expecting to catch Wonbin’s voicemail instead of catching him.

“I was calling you last night.” Wonbin says.

Anton still keeps his eyes closed as he hums an acknowledgment into the transmission. Wonbin doesn’t continue to pry even at the clear sign of disrespect, both of them already know what Anton is about to say.

“I have a new song.” Anton could practically hear Wonbin on the other end of the line sigh in relief. Anton imagined Sohee was there with him, the two crowded around the receiver of the phone trying to see who can hear the good news first. He imagines the two of them hitting eachother in excitement at the thought of releasing something new. Anton opens his eyes to look at his computer screen again. He finally feels the embarrassment as he recalls the inspiration he got for the song. He clears his throat, trying to will the memories away. “Come by and I can play it for you guys.” He says.

Anton didn’t have time to clean up his place before the two of them arrived. It seemed as though Wonbin and Sohee were waiting on his call. Within ten minutes he already got the text from Wonbin that they were outside. Anton only had five minutes to light an incense and try to desperately clean up the mess you two made the night prior. He ended up stuffing somethings into his closet, there were still shards of glass on the floor when the two were knocking on his door. 

When Anton opened his door the two barely spared a greeting, instead making a beeline past Anton’s mess of a common area to his bedroom. He saw Wonbin’s attention scatter across his terribly cleaned mess, speaking over his shoulder as Anton closed the distance between them.

“Your place usually isn’t this much of a mess, Anton.” Wonbin says casually.

Anton watches Wonbin’s attention stay on the jostled throw pillows and blanket on his couch. Anton’s face heats up when he remembers the night before. After you rode his face, the rest of the night was a blur. What you two did after that came in snatches. When Anton followed Wonbin’s gaze around his apartment he remembered it. Your hand planted on the back of the couch and the other clutching at the armrest as he fucked you from behind. He remembered the feeling of your sweaty shoulder clasped in his palm as he kept you driving backwards and the way you looked back at what he was doing to you.

“This usually happens to artists when they work on a project.” Sohee says matter-of-factly. 

Wonbin stops walking and looks at the back of Sohee’s head. Anton stops behind Wonbin and Sohee stops right before he walks past the threshold of Anton’s door. 

Anton feels like at any moment their attention will go to the mess and ask why it looks like a tornado ripped through his apartment. Anton almost feels relief that the two decided to bother eachother instead.

Anton watches Sohee give Wonbin his snooty know-it-all look, the one that always drives Wonbin crazy. Instead of responding, Wonbin only drives his finger into Sohee’s side. Sohee instinctually reaches forward to return the favor, causing Wonbin to back up on reflex before reaching forward to try and prod his side again. Anton watches the two of them try and fight. 

They don’t stop until Anton clears his throat and points towards his room. Almost immediately Sohee and Wonbin come to their senses to walk towards Anton’s room. Wonbin pokes Sohee’s side one more time as a joke, causing all three of them to laugh.

When Sohee goes into Anton’s room, he heads to the bed first. Anton tries to be calm seeing Sohee sit in the same spot on the edge of the bed you occupied not even twelve hours ago. Sohee unknowingly sets his backpack next to him, right on top of the pile where your discarded clothes rested before. Anton had to push past Wonbin, remaining neutral as he prepped the song to be played.

Anton trailed behind the two of them, and had to remain neutral at the sight of Wonbin doing a once over of the ground. Anton panicked and did the same, praying that he picked up all evidence of the night he had. When Wonbin’s eyes lingered on a crumbled shirt that looked a size to small, Anton cleared his thought. When his face went hot again he focused back on the computer, letting the sound of Sohee moving on his unmade bed fill the silence.

“When’d you finish this?” Sohee asked.

Anton looked back briefly. He saw Sohee playfully kick his feet that dangled over the edge of Anton’s bed as he leaned back onto the mattress. Anton forced himself to focus on clicking through the files on his desktop not looking back again. 

“Uhm. Last night.” Anton mumbled.

He felt bad for his non-assuming friend, how he had no idea he sat in the same spot where you were pathetically drooling onto his mattress the night before. The thought made Anton the complete opposite of how he was in that moment, he could only shyly nod his head when Sohee made a sound of acknowledgment.

Wonbin moved to the same spot beside the bed where Anton got down on his knees and draped your legs over his shoulders.

“Let’s hear it.” He said.

Anton pressed play and adjusted the volume, letting the beginning play. As the instrumental picked up Anton sheepishly described the type of song he had in mind for the beat. He prayed Sohee and Wonbin didn’t pick up on the deep bass immediately. He tried desperately to beat around the bush to such an extent that Sohee and Wonbin would come up with their own interpretation. 

“It’s on the slower side, but I think we could have really hard hitting lyrics here.” Anton said while making an encompassing motion with his hands.

Anton was grateful that his bandmates didn’t notice the flustered tone or his nervous habit of speaking with his hands. Sohee was thinking about the vocal color he needed for this song and Anton could already see Wonbin crafting the lyrics in his head. The true inspiration of the song seemed to go over their heads for a moment��Anton started easing as they nodded along approvingly to the beat. 

He believed he was in the clear, but when the chorus of the song came around and the sound of a bed creaking played through the speakers of Anton’s computer his bandmates froze. Anton saw Sohee and Wonbin exchange a side eye. Sohee’s legs that dangled over the edge of Anton’s bed stopped kicking suddenly and his head tilted to the side. Wonbin’s mouth dropped and he pulled his hand away from his face. 

Both of them were pulled from their reverie, looking up from the ground to look Anton dead in the eye.

“What type of song is this?” Wonbin asked.

Anton watched Sohee slowly turn around to take in Anton’s unmade bed. He could practically saw the lightbulb go off above his bandmates head as he watched Sohee look over the jostled covers and the folded pillow still laying in the center of the bed. Sohee slowly lifted his hands from the mattress and sat upright and turned back to Anton just as slow.

“No way.” Sohee says in disbelief.

At Anton’s reddening face and Sohee’s agape mouth Wonbin did a once over again. When the lightbulb went off over his head he begins laughing so hard he has to bend over and hold his chest. 

“Unbelievable.” Wonbin wipes the tears from his face. “Unbelievable.”

[k0juki]

Good things take time

Joost Klein x fem!reader

English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the pictures is not mine! Credit goes to owner! Not edited! Also BIG thanks to the @catherinewithu!! Couldn't do it without her.

Summary: If you promise something, you have to keep it. But even Joost makes a promise and doesn't keep it, just like you.

Warnings: alcohol, both sad y/n and Joost, mentions of sex but nothing is here!

A/n: I have mixed feelings about this xdd. Idk if it's happy ending...

Wc: 2.8k

---

Joost. Joost fucking Klein. That man was always very charming and he didn't even have to try. He was always the center of attention whereas you were just somewhere back, trying to fit in. Looking for your kind of people that lay back just like you. And if a year back someone would have said to you, that you're going to be in love with this man, you wouldn't believe them. Probably laugh in their face. You and Joost? Ha, you could never... could you?

He was the god of the party. Whenever he walked into a room, it was like the atmosphere shifted. People gravitated towards him, drawn by his effortless charm and infectious energy. He had this way of making everyone feel like they were the most important person in the world, even if just for a moment. Yeah, you know, Joost.

You and him met pretty easily, not in some grand, starstruck way, but through friends. It was at one of those low-key gatherings that start with a few people and end up with the entire social circle crammed into a living room. Joost was in his element, entertaining the crowd with stories and jokes. You watched him, intrigued by how natural it all seemed to him.

As the night went on, you and him somehow ended up in the same conversation circle. It wasn't long before you were chatting like old friends that have always known each other. He asked about your interests, your thoughts on music, movies, and life in general that night. And you found yourself opening up more than you usually did, his genuine interest made it easy.

Then, you started seeing each other more frequently. Your encounters were never planned, but always felt serendipitous. You ran into each other at the shop center, at friends' houses, and even at the grocery store. Each meeting felt natural, unforced, but then it wasn't just for talking and sharing stories. Now, you and Joost were friends, but with benefits. Of course you didn't mind at all at first. But after some time you wasn't so sure anymore. At first it was just because of some release. But after some time, you started to feel some...things.

Then came the night of this unforgettable party. You didn't want to come here at all, but your friend, f/n, she promised it's going to be just for a few hours and that Joost is going to be here as well. Maybe, that's why you actually agreed to go here. She knew about you and Joost, and how you actually felt about him. But she promise to not say anything.

Joost was, as usual, the center of attention. But this time, at this party, it felt different. Every time your eyes met across the room, there was a spark, a silent understanding that something was shifting between you and him. You watched him laugh, dance, and engage with everyone, yet somehow, it felt like he was always aware of where you were and what you were doing, of who you were speaking with and when you looked at him.

It was like sixth sense.

It started to get hot here, or maybe it was just the alcohol that flowed through your blood. Either way, you needed some fresh air, so you excused yourself from your friend that was just as tipsy as you and you made your way out by the back door that went to the garden. There wasn't anyone, but it wasn't so surprising. Whole party was thrown inside because of the cooler weather.

Enjoying the muffled sounds of a party in the house behind you, you were startled when you felt someone's hand on your hip.

"Hey, hey, easy here. It's just me."

Joost.

"You scared me for life." Turning your head to look at him, you notice how his pupils were big.

"I'm sorry princess, I will try not to scare you away from me." You laughed it off. He was definitely a teaser. It was in his nature, to make people laugh, to forget everything, to enjoy their time with him.

"What are you doing here so alone, hm?" He whispered in the cold night and ran his hand that he had on your hip up and down. To warm you a bit. "It's cold out here."

"I know, but I needed some fresh air. I couldn't breathe in there." You said and pointed back at the house. Leaning your head on his shoulder you closed your eyes, but the drinks that your friend made you drink with her were a little bit stronger for your liking, so whenever you closed your eyes you felt the whole world spin, just like right now.

"Yeah, you're right." Joost put his chin on the top of your head after he kissed it, just as you relaxed in his hold. You always enjoyed his presence, but it wasn't just because of his personality, it was because he made you feel things that you believed that were never there. He was different, he made you feel different. Like no-one else before had. He lifted his hand from your hip and placed it on your arm, "You're cold." he said and raised his head for yours.

"It's nothing." You chuckled, "I will manage." you tried to assure him, but your skin was really ice cold.

"Yeah, in bed with a fever tomorrow morning. Come on, let's get inside." He took your hand in his and together you made your way to the house. He let you go in first, holding the door open for you like a true gentleman he is with a smile on his face. "Lady's first."

You returned his smile, never letting go of his hand. It wasn't strange for you to hold his hand and kiss here and there, but you weren't together, it made some people questioned your real relationship. But what they didn't know was that you and Joost have been sleeping with each other from time to time. And you had to admit, you were totally scared of your future with him.

He doesn't feel love. He never felt that way. You knew it because before you and him started to sleep together, you and him made a promise to not catch feelings, it's just gonna be about a sex. Nothing more, nothing less. And you knew you had crossed that line, but you couldn't tell him anything. That would ruin everything, it would have ruined you. So you swallowed your feelings and told yourself to not, ever, let or somehow show your feelings for him. Even though it hurts you.

"I need to find f/n. She's somewhere here and I need to stop her from doing something stupid." You told Joost and he actually laughed at that because he knew her and what she was capable of.

"That sounds like a good idea. I will be in the living room if you want to look for me after you find her." Joost winked at you with smug on his pretty face and left you here standing with red cheeks. No matter how many times he had flirted with you, you always gave in and let his charm affect you.

---

It took you some time to find f/n, but you also have found some other friends that were looking after her as well. They were leaving and told you they are taking f/n home too.

"Noo, Y/n I don't wanna go home." f/n pouted and hugged you before others basically dragged her off of you.

"You have to. I will text you in the morning, okay?"

She protested, but eventually gave in. Leaving the party and looking forward to your text when you will be leaving.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself a drink, not so strong this time and then you started looking for another person, Joost. But he already told you where he's going to be. Making your way through bodies to the living room, you greeted some faces you recognised. Sending friendly smiles and little waves. But just as you stepped to the living room, you couldn't help the shock that went thru you.

He was sitting here with some girl. No, the girl was sitting on his lap and what was even worse, they were making out. How his left hand was running through her hair and how his other hand was on her waist, keeping her closer, just like he did before with you. All you could do was watch the scene before you.

"Y/n?" Joost's voice was barely making any sense, but he knew that was you who he was kissing right now. He was so sure of it.

"Actually I'm Mila."

"You're not Y/n? My Y/n?"

"I can be her, if that's what you want."

"You're not her?" Joost asked the girl that he assumed was you, but she pulled him back to kiss her. He wasn't complaining, but he was hoping that was you who he was kissing right now and not some random chick.

When they pulled away to breathe, Joost looked around the room and saw you standing in the back with a shocked face and how it, in a matter of seconds, turned into a pained expression. That was the real you. You weren't sitting in his lap right now.

What were you thinking?

It hurt. It all hurt so much. You really thought he felt something for you, just like you did for him. But you were wrong, so, so wrong. "Y/n?" His words were slurred. "C'mon it was just for fun, you know that right?"

Drunk words are sober thoughts.

You heard him say somewhere towards you in his now drunk state, you couldn't even properly look at him, all you could do in that moment was to turn around and leave. On your way out of the house, you passed by people that gave you this kind of sympathy look. Did they think you and him were together too? You weren't, and he made that crystal clear.

"Y/N!" He was calling for you to stop, but you didn't. "Y/n! Can you stop for a second?!"

"What!? What is it Joost!?" You turned to him, stopping in your tracks. Barely holding tears in your eyes.

"What's wrong with you?!" Joost almost shouted, but held himself back because of other people near you two.

"What is wrong with me?" You had to ask. "With me?"

"Yeah, you're acting like I fucked that girl right infront of you, and even if I did, we're not together so it doesn't matter."

"I can't believe this." You avoided eye contact with him. "I'm such an idiot." Whispering, you looked down, letting the tears freely fall.

"What? So it's mine fault?"

"No it's mine."

An awkward silence was between you two.

Joost sighed looking down and put his hands on his hips. "Look Y/n, let's just get inside, get some drinks and forget about it. It wasn't that big of a deal anyway." He insisted and took a few steps towards you, trying to reach for you, but you backed down. You turned back around and said.

"Yeah, you're right, it's not that big of a deal anyway."

With that, you made your way home.

---

That was two days ago, and from that time you felt like shit. You barely slept and eating food was bad too. F/n was worried about you, she insisted on talking to him, herself or you. But everytime she threatened, you told her to stop. That you're going to deal with it by yourself. She stopped after that.

Two fucking days.

Your phone was blowing with missed calls and hundreds of unread texts from Joost, but you didn't want to talk to him. Not right now. His words still hurt you. "It's not that big of deal anyway." Yes, you promised something to each other, but his words hunt you.

As you laid in your bed and re-thinking every detail of that night, soft knocking brought you out of your head. At first you didn't want to get up and answer, if it's important then they will try it later.

But the soft knocking was getting louder and more annoying. You slowly got up and made your way to the door. Ready to scream on anyone that was behind them.

"Y/n?"

That made you stop in your tracks. Joost? What was he doing here? You didn't want him near you at all. That's why you distanced everyone.

"Y/n, open the door."

His knocking stopped and you saw his shadow under the door and how he was stepping from one side to another.

"Open the door. Please."

Joost begged. And that's something you never heard from him before. Part of you wanted to let him in and hug him, but the other not at all.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said that night." You heard him say behind the door. Him still waiting for you to open to him.

"You didn't say anything wrong. Only truth." You muttered on the other side.

"Yeah, but..." He sighed and leaned his head on the door. Closing his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "You didn't deserve that."

That made you cry. He was right, you didn't deserve it like that.

"I hear you cry." He lifted his head from the door and tried to open them again. "Please don't cry."

"You made me look so fucking stupid." You cried more. "I thought...I thought that we-"

"I'm sorry."

You took the handle and slowly opened the door, letting that awkward silence spread all around you and him.

"What do you want from me?" You finally asked as your eyes were red and swollen from crying for the past two days. Just like his.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Probably everything..."

"That's a lot."

"I know I want you in my life." He began. "I'm scared that if I told you how I feel, you're going to leave me like everyone else."

"And why would I do that?"

He didn't say anything to that. Like you had caught him off of guard. But that didn't mean that you felt any better. You wouldn't admit it, but you didn't feel better.

"My heart always seems to be disappointed." You admitted quietly, letting it sink in. "Maybe it was made just to be shattered into thousands pieces."

"No, no, don't say that. It's not the truth, you don't believe that." His eyes were pleasing yours to say otherwise, but he didn't find what he was looking for in them. "Do you?"

"What if I believe in that?"

Now you were more scared of his silence than your damaged heart. Is this it? Is this the very end of yours and Joosts path?

"Are you going to say something?"

"I'm sorry." He stepped closer and opened the door fully. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, I don't know what I was doing...I was drunk a-and I know that it doesn't change anything, but I'm still so sorry and I need you to know it." He kneeled before you and hugged your waist. Trapping you in his hold.

"Joost." You didn't know what to say. Or what to do at that moment.

"I love you." He breathed out. "I don't want you to disappear from my world, because you are my world."

You stopped breathing for a moment. He loves you? Joost loves you? From all of the people he knows and ever met, he loves you?

"I need you to know how I feel." Joost admitted and held your legs tighter. "I should have said that sooner."

---

A/n: I could do better.

Don't copy or translate my work!

[ponyojada]

Yesterday was april 18th, Friday.

Here in México that's Viernes Santo, there's a religious procession and stuff, but you know what else happened yesterday? SYLUS' BIRTHDAY. And you know what I thought about?

TAKING SYLUS TO VISIT YOUR LATAM RANCHO FOR HIS BIRTHDAY

My nephew and niece are always glued to me, so I can imagine Sylus would be there, carrying the children up and entertaining them while trying to help arrange the alfombra (idk how to translate that but just search "alfombra de semana santa" and you'll understand)

Have you seen his hands? At the end of the day they're stained with a various array of colors because he was the chosen one to mix the pigments into the sawdust whenever a color ran out.

He definitely uses the colored sawdust as projectile to play with the kids of the house and whoever wants to join too. He's soft at first and with the kids, he takes it a bit farther if anyone who's not from the family hits one of the children too hard.

Now, here are two options, if you like to see whole procession,

he'll probably hold the ladder for everyone else to climb up the roof and have a better view of the street

He's so sweet, he'd volunteer to hold one of the sunshades/umbrellas that one of your aunts, your grandma, or even mother is holding

He'd have this analytical look when seeing people passing by, asking why some are barefoot or even on their knees. You'd explain and he'd probably raise his eyebrows.

At the end, he'd help everyone get onto the ladder to go down

And if you don't like to watch it, either for the noise or the amount of people (this stuff activates my fight or flight istg),

You chose to stay inside, since the sound of the drums and whips along with people singing their prayers made you nervous. Sylus still helped hold the ladder, but he went back to you.

To keep yourself busy, you started to make the batter to fry the fish your family bought; Sylus, of course, helped without an issue and even added some stuff. Our chef man wants to give a good impression.

Whenever he wants to get close to the fridge, you usher him away so he doesn't see the cake hidden in there, so you end up being his delivery of ingredients.

You two begin to prepare the fish while those who want to see the procession are up on the roof.

Anyways, once the whole thing is done,

It's time to eat before picking up whatever mess was left on the street.

As a joke, you stab a small candle on the top piece of fish from one of the plates from where y'all are gonna serve yourselves.

He looks so genuinely thankful that your grandma scolds you for teasing him "pobre muchacho, diosito te va a castigar" (poor young man, god (affectionate) is gonna punish you)

Sylus bonds with your grandma from then on. Be prepared for all the stories that sweet old woman will tell.

There's music on the stereo, and some drinks are starting to get passed; you wait until everyone is done eating to go find the cake under the disguise of cleaning the table off.

He, ever the gentleman, offers his help; but with your refusal and the promise of more stories from grandma and the rest of the table, he relents, not without kissing your forehead as if you were a soldier leaving home to go to war. He can be dramatic too.

You come back with the cake, a candle lit on top of it while you step carefully to not give yourself away. Of course, that doesn't seem to work because he's got a sixth sense for you. His eyes find you, and you can't even try to playfully scold him because his eyes squint as he smiles so brightly that it takes everything in you to keep moving steadily without making the candle turn off or the cake to fall down.

You all sing him happy birthday. He doesn't budge. His eyes are still glued to you.

Your family urges you to sit back beside him, and a lot of pictures are taken before everyone gets to enjoy the cake and the celebration.

In the end, he helps with whatever is necessary. Washing the dishes? He's glad to help. Cleaning the sawdust from outside? He's asking where the brooms are. He's overall super eager to help and fit in without knowing that you have already been texted and told by various members of your family about their approval to your handsome boyfriend.

[mc-lukanette]

"Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You've been the song stuck in my head since the day we first met."

Luka meant every word of it. He hadn't known Marinette for long but he knew people. Whether one called it intuition, a sixth sense, or nothing more than a "feeling," he didn't care. Marinette was a special girl and anyone who didn't know didn't understand her. It was the way she talked, the way she laughed, and even the way she was constantly stumbling over herself because she cared so much about others.

He felt it in her designs and had seen the process himself, how she would sit in the same spot for hours until someone snapped her out of it. He wore his Kitty Section costume proudly because of it and swore that it made him play better, just by having a piece of her with him.

That was all he needed, as far as he was concerned. Whether she loved him or not was irrelevant, and he only confessed at all in the first place because he wanted to alleviate whatever doubts she'd had. He was just happy to know her and to be called her friend.

She looked so beautiful against the colorful stage lights too. Had he not needed to leave, he might've told her so. He only hoped she wouldn't run off to let them take all the credit if there were any interviews afterward. She was just as big a part of the band as he was.

He smiled and released her shoulder, turning around to face the stage where he was set to play with the others. He took one step, two steps—

and then his wrist was snagged, pulling him back. He tried to keep his balance, especially as another hand grabbed at his jacket to bring him downwards. Everything was happening too fast, his vision only able to register the blur that was Marinette's face coming towards him.

Heat flooded his system as her lips came into contact with his skin, just to the side of his mouth. She'd kissed him on the cheek before, but that had come off entirely friendly as opposed to the one she'd given him now.

"Worse" still was that he knew she'd missed her intended target in her rush, which was definitely not his cheek.

It was over too soon, but he registered the voices behind him calling him to the stage as Marinette let him go and pulled away. Despite the bold move, she looked away sheepishly and cleared her throat, her blush obvious even in the lighting.

"U-um... good luck?" she said, giving him a fluttery wave.

His shoes felt like they were filled with very selective lead, keeping him firmly in place unless he was moving towards her specifically. Alas, his bandmates were still calling and not going would've ruined all the effort Marinette had put into getting them to this point.

Thus, he turned - for real this time - and went to set up with the others.

—————

Luka somehow managed to concentrate throughout the entire performance. The nice thing about his Kitty Section mask was that he could look around freely without being noticed, particularly at the siren of a girl standing in the background watching his every move. Her fingers were steepled in front of her mouth, making it hard to gauge her exact expression, but her eyes never left his.

Each note he played felt like a pleasant shock through his body, a positive feedback loop that kept going throughout the whole song. It'd happened before when he was in a good mood, playing his feelings through the strings, but not like this.

Not after being kissed by the one he was in love with, and not on a stage where the energy surrounding him was so high. Whenever he turned to the other bandmates, they were staring at him in bewilderment, but not in any bad way. He wasn't overshadowing them or throwing off the song, he was just more of what was already there, and the stage crew was getting into it.

It was fantastic.

By the time everything was over and the recording was done, there was nothing stopping him anymore. He wordlessly passed his guitar to a confused Rose, then walked off the stage, past the crew, and past a reporter who had snuck in and was asking him questions he didn't bother listening to. He pushed his mask up and took a straight path directly towards Marinette, who was bouncing from the thrill of the moment.

"That was incredible, Luka!" she squealed. "It sounded even better than in the video! People are going to love it, I—"

He grabbed her face and kissed her. It momentarily occurred to him that he could've said something romantic like, "I only played so well because you were there," which was true, but kissing her the way she'd tried to kiss him seemed like a far more appropriate response to what she'd done.

It felt equivalent to getting to play a song she'd written just for him, which was almost a shame. Had he known she could've made noises like she was just by him kissing her, he would've suggested a different type of song for the music video.

There was a shriek in the background that was probably Rose, which he paid no mind to. He broke the kiss, but remained hunched over to Marinette's level, still holding her blushing face and cherishing the warmth against his palms.

"Did you love it?" he asked quietly, stroking her cheeks. "That's all I care about."

Her voice had raised an octave when she replied, "O-of course? I said it was incredible! I love you—it! A lot!"

She managed to fit her hands between his, covering her face with an embarrassed whine. He sighed blissfully, dropping his hands to wrap his arms around her and bury his face into her shoulder.

"I can't believe you tried to kiss me," he began, then added even though he could've left it at that, "right before I had to go on stage."

"Sorry," came the muffled apology behind her hands, though he smirked when he caught the hint of not actually being sorry in her voice. She returned his embrace, squeezing and shaking a little as she whispered, "I should've done it sooner."

When Luka had thought just a few minutes ago that he would've been perfectly happy just getting to know Marinette and be her friend, he meant it, but he wasn't about to complain about being thrice as perfectly happy either.

[here-comes-the-moose]

Modern Bad Batch at the Airport/on a Flight

Inspired by the fact that I’ve been flying a lot recently with and without my family, here are some Bad Batch Headcanons of how I think they’d be like.

Hunter

The passenger princess of air travel. Has no idea what time they board, barely knows where they’re going. Only job is to sit there and look pretty.

Actually I lied his other job is constantly fussing over Crosshair.

Constantly gets snapped at by Crosshair for this.

Does not let this deter him from fussing, hovering around Crosshair, and even following him to the bathroom.

Given a number from at least one person on the plane.

His siblings are just glad he remembered his ID and/or passport, since he forgot it one time and had needed to go home and come back to the airport, which had stressed everyone out to no end. He has not lived this down.

Passes out the second his ass is in his seat and will stay asleep the whole time, but somehow has a sixth sense when it comes to one of his sibling’s needing him and will immediately jolt awake and spring into action.

Wrecker

Orders ginger ale on the plane because he LIVES for the ginger ale biscoff cookie/pretzel combo.

Will only sit in the aisle seat because he does not like to look out the window (fear of heights).

Super chill and is the one who keeps the others from killing each other and/or getting pulled aside by TSA.

Sharing snacks with Omega and Hunter.

Not as intense as Hunter, but regularly checks in on Crosshair. Will get snapped at a little bit.

Always watches rom-coms on flights, it’s his routine. He cries every time, but doesn’t really feel embarrassed by it because once they see that he’s watching The Notebook they’re like “understandable sir have a nice day”.

Falls asleep half an hour before the flight ends, every time without fail.

Tech

Has all the boarding passes and knows their gate number and seats from memory.

Made them leave extremely early and still pissed at Hunter for making them leave behind schedule.

In charge of the itinerary.

Loves the window seat since he enjoys looking out the window as he listens to music or a podcast, but also likes to point things out to Omega, since she loves when he does so.

Also checking on Crosshair, but more through observation than outright asking him. Has disappeared and gotten Crosshair something he needs to feel a bit better before wordlessly giving it to his twin. This form of care is much appreciated by Crosshair.

Loves to shop in the airport. He’s a fan of the cute knickknacks, books, and the duty free section as a whole. May or may not be buying something for Phee.

Crosshair

Hates airports and air travel, so he’s miserable the whole time.

Very irritable and short-tempered because of this, but his siblings let it slide since he’s not feeling great.

Ordering a ginger ale on the flight, but because he gets sick not because he likes it.

Needs to sit in the window seat. He wants the privacy if he starts feeling too sick but also looking outside helps him a bit.

Spends most of the flight napping or at least trying to nap. Either way, he’s resting his head on Echo’s shoulder most of the time.

Not that anyone enjoys it, but he hates when they’re hit with turbulence. He’s gripping his armrests (and Echo), he’s scared, he’s nauseous, he’s dizzy and headachey, overall he’s just not having a good time. Spends the whole time there’s turbulence praying, even though he’s not religious.

Echo

Hates and dreads going through TSA.

Pretty chill after it’s over though.

Has a bag (affectionately referred to as “the diaper bag”) that has EVERYTHING in it. Tons of snacks, OTC medicine for basically an anything you can or can’t think of, hand sanitizer, two types of wipes, ear plugs, eye masks, you name it.

Also fussing over Crosshair, but not as much as Hunter since he knows when to just give Crosshair his space to sulk.

Crosshair usually seeks him out for comfort because of this.

Doesn’t care much about where he sits as long as he has the most room available for his prosthetics.

Usually sits next to Crosshair on the plane, since by the time they board Hunter has made Crosshair ban him from occupying the seat next to him.

Hunter is usually on the other side of him.

Omega

Just having a good time.

Tech explains a lot of the technical things to her and she finds it so cool.

Loves takeoff and landing; thinks they’re so fun.

Spends most of the flight watching movies and eating snacks.

Even though she’s having a good time, she’s still worried about Crosshair and always tries to help and/or do something nice for him. The only one who can get away with this without him getting irritated for the most part, but even if he does get irritated it’s just for a second and very mild.

Sharing her snacks with Wrecker and passes some to Hunter as well across the aisle.

Always says thank you to the pilot and flight attendants. Chats with the pilots if she’s given the chance and they always love her and her questions. One time early on into living with the batch and traveling with them she very bluntly said to the pilot “thank you for not making my brother throw up”. Crosshair was mortified but the pilot laughed and thanked her for the compliment.

[sunburnacoustic]

Muse - Q Awards 2007

Some shitty quality but fascinating pics of Muse with other musical stars of the 00s at the 2007 Q Awards, where Muse were seen talking to Shirley Bassey, Nicky Wire (Manic Street Preachers), Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs), Ian Brown (Stone Roses), the singer Mika (who apparently really likes Muse!) and Kate Nash.

And Muse themselves, triumphant winners of the Best Live Act award at 2007 Q's, beating Arcade Fire, The Killers, Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian.

Q Magazine did feature their awards in the Nov 2007 edition of Q, so I can sneak in a picture from there too (thanks Musewiki <3)

Here's what Muse had to say about it all (Q interview)

Rate your day on a scale of 1 to 10. Dominic Howard (drums): I'd say pushing eight. When we woke up hung over in Serbia this morning, it was about minus 5. But getting back to London pushed it up a few points and then winning this award pushed it up further again. By the time we get to the party later we'll hopefully have pushed it to 11.

This is the 3rd time you've picked up the Best Live Act Award. Not getting bored of it yet, are you? Matthew Bellamy (vocals/guitar): No, it's nice that we've bagged this again. We're not getting bored of playing live and we're not bored of people liking our performances either.

Your plane from Belgrade landed about an hour ago. you didn't get a nice early night in preparation for today, then?

MB: Not quite. Last night Belgrade was Bel-degrade. It got quite dark. I wasn't involved, but it included a transsexual called Pete. And a dildo. Pete was sat on your knee for quite a while Dom, wasn't that right? DH: (Solemnly) No.

Does visiting new cities give you more licence to misbehave? MB: Yeah, a bit. We've been lucky this year in that we've been able to go to new places - Eastern Europe, Asia, Mexico. Sometimes on tour you just cocoon yourself in your hotel room and keep your head down until gig time. being somewhere new puts you in the mood to get out more and meet new people, just to find new experiences.

So what's the oddest experience on tour this year? DH: Sorry, I can't get the transsexual out of my head now. Indonesia was interesting, mainly because I could've got killed. We'd taken a few silly things and we decided to check out some local bars in a really rough part of town. The houses were all corrugated iron and we had chickens running over the bonnet of the car, people banging on our windows. One of the guys got out of our car and he got shouted at, so we got out of there as fast as possible. But we were told later that we were lucky we didn't get shot, then robbed.

MB: Our tour manager got robbed by three ladyboys in a lift there, too.

Have you had any celebrity fans coming to the shows?

Christopher Wolstenholme (bass): In LA the kid for The Sixth Sense (Hayley Joe Osment) came to see us. I think he crashed his car on the way home.

MB: Paris Hilton to the LA show, too. But she left during Knights of Cydonia, which is the first song on the set. If we're offending Paris Hilton we must be doing something right.

The UK people will see your two Wembley Stadium shows in the summer as the pinnacle of the Muse live experience. How were those shows for you?

MB: I think we did our best. It's an amazing venue and the crowds made those shows. Big shows like that aren't just about the band, its about the whole experience and watching the crowd is part of the fun. It definitely gave us a taste for more of those big shows.

Any outrageous stage props that got vetoed by the council? Ten-foot-high robots and the like?

MB: Well, we wanted to have helicopters doing a balloon drop and circling above us with searchlights spotlighting the crowd, but apparently you're not allowed to have helicopters fly over big crowds in case they fall out of the sky and start mincing up. Which is fair enough, I suppose.

DH: We wanted to arrive by Zeppelins and drop down to the stage, but we weren't allowed to do that either...

MB: We're gonna make that happen next time. You can get these business Zeppelins now, like a private jet, so we could fly from gig to gig, descend for the gig and then get lifted back into the Zeppelin lounge.

So how do you go about topping Wembley? MB: We'll probably start from scratch again and build things back up with smaller gigs. DH: We'd like to do multiple nights in smaller venues. We might have more people onstage.

[Q mishears] Q: Small people onstage? DH: Yeah, more small people. Like Spinal Tap. No, it'd just be good to have the time to evolve the whole musical side of the show.

Is this tour ever going to end? MB: Technically, it's over in December. But there are a few more things that we've been offered for next year, so who knows?

The rumour is that you're going to headline Glastonbury again next year... MB: Ooh, that's a strong question! Very strong. Well, Glastonbury is a festival that's very close to our hearts. And it'll be amazing to play it again...sometime. But next year's plans have yet to be settled upon.

So we'll take that as a "yes" then? MB: No, don't take it as anything. DH: It's a maybe. CW: It's a flat "no".

Back to today: is there anyone here you really want to meet? MB: I'd love to say hello to Paul McCartney. But so would everyone here, I bet. We'll not be allowed near him.

Are you pretty sociable when you're at parties without musicians? MB: It's like when two dogs meet in the park: they eye each other up for a bit, then have a sniff around each other. So we'll see who's smelling OK later. Who's that? (Points at Damon Albarn posing for Q's photographer) Damon Albarn? (Unimpressed) Oh...

What do you want for pudding? DH: What's the obsession with pudding here? Someone else just asked us that. CW: We'll say something classic. Bread-and-butter pudding. Can't go wrong there.

So what are you doing next? MB: I have a meeting with out lawyers. Very rock'n'roll. But we'll be out at the party later. These days if we're in London it usually means we have to work, so one of the ideas in coming to this was to have a big night out.

Pics - microcuts.net archives | article - MuseWiki.

[theemporium]

please Remus with shy reader who gets jealous and sad when sees someone flirt with him

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

You trusted Remus, more than you trusted anyone else in your life. 

You knew he loved you. You knew that he thought you were the best thing in his life. He was a love-struck fool who kissed the ground you walked on and loved nothing more than spending every waking moment he could next to you. You knew all of this because he had told you as such countless times, his friends had told you countless times. 

But still, that didn’t help disperse the bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach as you watched the girl standing beside him at the bar, smiling and laughing and tossing her hair over her shoulder in the most photogenic way you had ever seen. 

The fruity cocktail you had been sipping on tasted like ash on your tongue.

But you didn’t say anything once Remus returned to the booth your group had grabbed when you entered the bar a few hours ago. He slid in beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulders as he placed his new bottle of beer on the table in front of him.

“Hey, darling,” he murmured as he flashed you a lazy smile before he leaned down to kiss you. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” 

However before his lips could press against yours, you had turned your head to the side so he placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek instead.

He frowned at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Hm?” you turned to look at him, giving him a soft smile. “Nothing, I think the drinks are getting to me.” 

His fingers traced shapes along your arm. “Do you want some water? I can go get you some.” 

Your stomach twisted at the idea of him going back up to the bar, of the girl approaching him again and making a bolder move this time. You quickly shook your head. 

��No, I’m fine,” you said to him before you spoke up again. “Actually, I think I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“Want me to come with?” 

But when you shook your head again, Remus’ concern only grew as he watched you disappear into the ladies’ bathroom.

When you exited, he was standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and lost in his own thoughts. However, Remus always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you, and his head quickly snapped up so his gaze met yours.

“Remus—” 

“Be honest with me, baby,” Remus murmured, the music playing from the bar a little more muffled in the little corridor you were standing in. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

You let out a sigh, pulling the sleeves over your hands as you spoke, knowing full well you couldn’t keep it a secret from him. “I saw that girl you were talking to…”

His brows furrowed together. “What girl?” 

“At the bar,” you murmured, your chin tucked against your chest. “The pretty blonde who was flirting with you—” 

A slow grin spread across his face. “You telling me my pretty girl was jealous?”

Your cheeks flushed. “I—” 

“Baby,” Remus murmured as his large hands cupped your face, lifting your head so you couldn’t hide away from his gaze. “You got no need to get jealous, pretty girl, I only care about you.” 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and sinking into the feeling of his touch. “It’s just…you’re pretty and pretty girls come up to you and—” 

“And I tell them that I’m not interested because I am dating the prettiest girl in this whole fucking world,” Remus hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “C’mon, baby, give me what I want.” 

A smile slowly grew on your face. 

“There it is,” he grinned triumphantly. “C’mon, let’s go get another one of those drinks you like. And then let’s go home so I can get it into that pretty head of yours that you’re the only girl in my world.” 

Your cheeks burned but you couldn’t deny your body hummed in anticipation.

.

[ndrv3expert1]

The ending of Danganronpa V3: Not the cliché twist people think it is.

Probably the most controversial part about V3 is the ending. I love it. I love it so much I have a shirt of it. I can see why others don’t somewhat but at the same time I’m like why?

Many people say the fact the game is fiction makes it meaningless, but I strongly disagree. I understand that an 'it was all fake' or 'and then they woke up' ending is annoying and overused and, depending on what happens in the piece of media, just bad writing, but DRV3 isn't one of those endings.

And if you do believe the game was meaningless, then congrats you fell for Tsumugi's lies, hook line and sinker.

In the sixth trial, Shuichi talks about how even though the game was fiction, it still hurt him to see the people he cared about die.

Even though they are being told that everything they went through is meaningless, it is real to them; if they feel sadness and anger and love, it’s just as real; it’s just as meaningful as in the real world.

Another thing is the theme of the whole game is truth vs. lies, so wouldn’t it make sense for the final twist to be that what they thought was the truth is a lie?

In the first two games, the final trial ends with a battle of hope vs despair where hope always triumphs and despair is crushed, but in V3 it’s different.

Tsumugi wants them to continue the game. The fans want them to continue the game.

Choosing hope—sacrificing someone to go on to the next killing game—will just cause the cycle to repeat, but choosing despair is also bad; it causes people to give up and lose everything.

Shuichi doesn’t want Maki (and Kiibo) to have to go into another killing game, but they also don’t want to fall into despair. So he refuses to vote, and as much as Tsumugi begs and pleads, he stands his ground.

The viewers also refuse to vote, proving that fiction does have the power to change reality, a powerful message that is one of the main reasons this ending is so great.

Even though Shuichi Maki, and Himiko were fictional characters, they changed the outside world and stopped a whole franchise, a whole movement, and in real life, fiction can spread ideologies, beliefs, and concepts, and these things can spread to people like wildfire and bring people together in ways that normal methods, (like by mouth,) cannot.

That's why artists try to put messages in their art, musicians in their music, and directors in their movies and TV shows. They know that's the type of media that will have the most reach and spread the fastest.

Or even social media spreading information; it might not be the best source, but it still spreads rapidly.

Media has influenced our way of life for years, influencing our speech, thoughts, and cultures because of what it says; this is what V3 is trying to show.

Shuichi also talks about using his friends deaths and the lie of the killing game to change the world.

This is why it matters; this is the power of fiction.

Shuichi using his friends' deaths, which may have been seemingly useless anyway, to take down the show that has trapped them in a cycle of deceit and forced them to play their game.

It’s also great when you remember that Shuichi was afraid of finding the truth, and Kaede and Kaito helped him gain more confidence.

He vowed to Kaede he would end the killing game, and this man not only found the biggest truth ever, he not only ended the game, but ended the whole franchise.

If that's not character development, I don’t know what it is.

Another reason people hate the ending is the portrayal of the fans, the fans are portrayed as Danganronpa obsessed, and they are shunned by watching the senseless killing of people for entertainment.

It’s a world where everyone has become so desensitized to kids getting killed on TV that they gather around screens all over the world eager to watch the next installment; that’s why there are 53 seasons.

The fans in the ending are an exaggerated view of what Kodaka feared would happen.

It's not trying to bash the fans of today but the fans of the future if this continues and we don’t care about the deaths anymore, and we just want more because you can have too much of a good thing.

It also has good messaging about fans (and corporations) tearing a TV show or game series apart in compensation for more, deriving it from the original message.

For example, Squid Game a show about the flaws of capitalism and exploitation for entertainment, was remade into a reality show by Netflix, Mr. Beast, and Amazon Prime to capitalize on the success of Squid Game when it first came out, actively hurting real people in the process, just for the sake of making money.

The ending of V3 reminds us that the connections we make and the experiences we have give our lives meaning. And even if we only affect one person with our actions, it will be all worth it, and that's the greatest truth of them all.

It’s about freedom, the problems of beating a piece of media to death just to have more, using deceased loved ones' wishes to help move forward, and finding meaning in the things that seem meaningless.

The V3 ending is a roller coaster of emotions and a masterful experience. It serves as a great ending to a great series that keeps you on the edge of your seat, makes you feel sympathy for some fictional characters, and still holds up even eight years later.

I don't think this rant/analysis will fix the wedge in the fandom this ending has caused (we've argued about much more ignorant things in the past.) But I hope it at least resonated with you and re-kindled elements you remember loving about the ending for people who did enjoy it; and for those who didn't I hope this gives you some insight into why I and many others appreciate the ending.

So before your start to conclude that V3's ending was meaningless think to yourself-is that the truth or just the lie you were meant to believe.

[mlink64]

Girl-Dad Hongjoong

Yes I know you can do this stuff with a baby boy too (and you bet your ass Joong would) but I'm dying at the thought of Hongjoong being an absolute simp for his little princess and hiudhsvubi

Now that that's out of the way...

Crying when she's born and he gets to hold her for the first time

His eyes swimming with all the memories he wants to make with this tiny human

Always having heart-eyes for his little girl...always

He could be changing a soiled diaper and still have heart eyes

Just staring at the baby for hours, completely in awe that he helped bring her into the world

But also getting super anxious as 'what if's swirl through his head

Channeling all his fears into incredibly heartfelt songs that he sings to her as lullabies

Sitting at a tiny little table wearing a toy crown and earrings while his baby girl serves him imaginary tea with the cutest little tea set ever (that Hongjoong totally personalized for her)

She would be the most well-dressed toddler istg

Always looks forward to their cute morning ritual of him picking her outfits from a big-ass closet (seriously, this man would LIVE for buying and customizing baby clothes)

But like, if she wants to wear bunny ears or smthin with whatever chic outfit Joong picks out she will and he'll let her

Probably even encourages her to pick out wacky, unique pieces to add some pizzazz to the fit

Daddy-Daughter dates!

Gives her flowers, takes her shopping or to see a movie or something, always getting ice cream on the way home

Mans is wrapped around her finger so tightly you have to force him to leave whenever y'all drop her off somewhere

He will 110% cry on her first day of school

He's like the classroom mom to end all classroom moms

Definitely the Dad that all the teachers and other Moms (and Dads) are in love with...every single one

Like, you know the scene in "The Game Plan" where the Rock's character is sitting in the dance studio and all the moms are like lusting after him? Yeah...every day

Then when she gets older it continues, only now her friends are crushing on her Dad too (DILF Hongjoong anyone?)

But ofc he doesn't even notice, too engrossed in watching his baby do her thing

Going all out for Daddy-Daughter Dances

Buys her a new dress and accessories, making sure he has pieces to match, giving her a cute little corsage that he probably made (or at least designed) Himself

Protective!Dad Hongjoong 24/7

It's not much of a problem when she's little, but when she gets older and boys (or girls) and crushes are a thing watch tf out

I feel like he would have like a sixth sense for judging peoples' characters and if someone gives him a weird vibe he'll keep a closer eye on them

Never says "I told you so" when she comes to him in tears when someone is actually a shit human

Just makes some tea and brings her blankets or plushies or something

He WILL hold a grudge against anyone who hurts his baby girl

Even if she forgives and forgets...he will not...

Tries not to spoil the shit out of her but honestly can't help it

Always buying pretty gifts for her, plushies, jewelry, clothes...the list goes on

Tries to foster a love for music and the arts from a young age

Piano lessons, dance classes, etc.

Always wants to do crafts with her and probably having a whole art room that's more often than not covered in glitter and ribbon

Hyping up everything she makes

Always wearing the things she makes for him

Literally styles outfits around pasta necklaces and decorated ties

Family trips to the nail salon to get matching manicures

Dancing with her standing on his feet

Gets more excited for dino nuggies than she does

[insane4fandoms]

As thanks for our little chat earlier, here are some random headcanons on my EgoPats! Talking with friends always seems to get my creative juices flowing.

Caliban doesn’t have quite as big of a sweet tooth as irl Matt does, but he still appreciates some sugary stuff along with savory stuff (i.e. his and Murdock’s hit-targets). His favorite treats (aside from Diet Coke, because duh. He’s an Egopat, lol) are typically gummy alligators or gummy sharks. Yes, he always makes sure to start by biting the gummy’s head off, because that’s just how you eat gummies, okay? (This was actually inspired by that Gummy Food vs. Real Food Challenge on GTLive; it’s one of my favorite episodes, so many hilarious moments.) 

Penn is pretty interested in Vulture Culture. Yeah, his fossil-hunting already plays a huge part in that, but he’s just sort of fascinated by the skulls/bones of modern animals as well as those of prehistoric creatures. (Bonus points if the bones happen to have been painted for whatever reason.) Granted, they’d have to be ethically sourced for him to collect them, because he’s nice and conscious like that. 

Some of LeviathanPat’s traits/abilities are more instinctual than “at-will.” The biggest example of this: an extra eye that can sprout on his forehead, larger and darker than his primaries. While he can choose to grow and retract extra eyes (just like he can with extra mouths, limbs, etc.), this particular forehead eye only opens up when his emotions are running high, or when he’s in a serious situation. I guess you could say that the forehead eye is, in itself, a type of Sixth Sense. (Though, as a cosmic abomination, L.P. definitely has way more than six senses, lol. Also, this was inspired by one of the ways you’ve drawn him in the past, so…thanks!)

Penn loves gemstones and minerals just as much as fossils. Sure, his career is paleontology, but he just really likes shiny/colorful things on the side. He’ll occasionally keep pieces of fossil for his personal collection, but only on occasion, since, y’know, museums need fossils for their exhibits. So, gemstones are a little easy for that kinda stuff. (And, with that first headcanon in mind: have you ever seen that art trend where crystals are attached to or even grown on cleaned animal skulls? If not, they’re all over Etsy, so, you’re welcome, lol. But yeah, Penn would LOVE to get one of those.)

Along with helping Yancy out with musical stuff, Ozzie has a love for drawing. It’s just something he’s been doing since he was little, though he’s currently much better at pencil-work than painting. 

Patty does a variety of things in his off-time from dancing, but one of his favorites is sculpting. He’s had quite a lot of practice, but he usually tends to just make small pieces for decoration. This includes little clay charms for necklaces (yeah, he definitely made one as a present for Delux one time, lol. I’m thinking maybe…a little black fox? Obviously Delux can’t wear it when he’s working for fear of losing it on the streets or at a client’s place, but we both know he’d still appreciate it.) 

Despite being a terrifying outer monstrosity, LeviathanPat is sort of claustrophobic. This is due to all the time he was trapped in the underground tomb that Penn and Illinois accidentally freed him from. He usually spends a lot of time hunting outside at night (because of his whole window schtick), but if he ever finds an opportunity to actually go inside a place, then it’ll have to be good and spacious for him to be comfortable. (Along with his shapeshifting skills, LeviathanPat is also capable of sizeshifting, which he can use in a pinch. Though, due to his pride, he’d never even consider turning smaller than a human, lol). 

Ahhhh all of these are great!

Some of these headcanons are not much different than mine, you also definitely got me to rewatch the gummy vs real video, always makes me laugh to see Matt and Steph freak out over the gummy spider lmao

Here’s some small headcanons I had because why not

Penn would absolutely be a skull collector, but most importantly he would be a cat. Illinois would be chilling on the couch one day and Penn would jump on him and ominously hand him a deer skull and smile before walking away, leaving Illinois to sit there dumbfounded and a little scared of where the hell Penn got that.

I’d imagine Patty sleeping in the most pretzel like positions ever to be seen from humanity lol. Imagine being his roommate and walking into the room to see him sleep in a way like he’s posing for a renaissance painting.

Patty would also be a god at drag makeup. Like give this man a makeup palette and he’ll go face your face the vision of god.

I think Ozzy would be (and forced to be) Yancy’s costume designer when he wants to do a musical number. I like the idea of a brute muscle having the most patient hobby like art. I also think painting is much harder personally, but with a bit of good behavior, he’ll probably learn to paint watercolor.

Caliban, my man, would 100 percent horde all of the Diet Coke from others. Bro does NOT like to share when it comes to his treats. Even R.D. would make Caliban hesitate to give up his precious soda, but one look from her and he’ll melt and gladly hand one over. Azalea and Murdock on the other hand they’ll fight like cats for one. (Mad would get his head chopped off before he could even ask)

Now LeviathanPat, I got plans for him, but one funny headcanon is that while his shapeshifting is effective and sometimes in his advantage, he definitely got ran over one too many times by a random car. Not in his eldritch form, but maybe around like a bear size or deer when he wanders.

He also hates hunting season as he was also mistaken for a deer one too many times, and it was getting tiring or either killing or scaring off the hunters. I would also agree on LeviathanPat being claustrophobic due to him being trapped in the tomb, but one thing he may not find unnerving?

Possession, he’ll just have to find the perfect host to leech on…

And he had already laid his eyes upon him the moment the tomb was opened.

[verydeadaten]

Jaune's Sixth Sense: Pyrrha Addition

The highly unanticipated sequel to this post!

________________________________

Jaune and Pyrrha were hanging out in Jaune’s old room in Ansel. They were on break, and Jaune wanted to show his girlfriend the village where he was raised. Pyrrha was sitting on the surprisingly comfortable bed, looking at the wall covered with posters of rock bands and superheroes. Jaune was at his small bookshelf, picking something up. He walked towards the bed, and spoke.

“Pyrrha, you know how you asked me about my favorite fairytale a while ago?”

She looked at him. “I can recall that, yes”

Jaune handed her something. A book. “Well, this is it.”

The book in her hands was heavy, and red. There was an illustration on the cover, what seemed to be a knight in a field. The back had a very scary looking wolf on it. The cover had the book’s title in big, shiny letters. The Great Hunt. Pyrrha looked up at her lover, surprised.

“Jaune, this isn’t a fairytale. This is an epic poem.”

“Yeah, I know, but-”

Pyrrha was laughing now. “I had to read an excerpt from it in combat school, then write an essay about it!”

Jaune was laughing too. “Really? How’d you do?”

“I think I did okay. I don’t remember the exact grade. You probably could’ve done better.”

“Jeez, Pyrrha. My writing isn’t that good.”

Pyrrha had a serious look in her eyes. “Beloved, I got an eighty-six on the last essay Oobleck gave us.”

“Pyrrha…”

“You got one-hundred and ten. You got a perfect score with extra credit on an assignment that nearly everyone else failed. Even Weiss didn’t get a perfect score. Your writing is leagues better than mine will ever be. Now…”

She slammed her hands on the book on her lap. “Tell me about this!”

Jaune exhaled. “Alright. So, I think my mom read it to me as a bedtime story when I was three.”

Pyrrha stifled a laugh. “Really?! I’m pretty sure most parents would read their toddlers childrens books. Not millenia old poems about warriors fighting monsters.”

Jaune snorted. “My parents are not most parents.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “I can tell. Alright, continue.” 

“When I was five, I started reading it by myself. I only had the first part, so I just read it over and over. My Dad bought me the rest of it, and I read that over and over. I actually would bring all three parts to school in my backpack. It was so heavy, my back started to hurt. So to stop me from getting permanent back issues, on my 9th birthday, my parents gave me this.” He picked up the book from Pyrrha’s lap. He looked at the cover, seemingly hypnotized by the shiny drawing.

“This is a collectors edition version of the whole poem. That’s why it’s so big, it’s all three parts of the story.” 

“It looks amazing, Jaune.”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve read this whole poem. I’ve read it front to back, back to front. I’ve gone online and read analyses about it. I translated a part of it to Octavian (latin) once as a project. At one point, I even started writing essays about it in my spare time.”

Pyrrha was extremely surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. I had to do an essay about it in middle school. I started and finished it in two days. I had to revise it twice because I kept going over the word limit.”

“Brothers, Jaune.”

“Yeah…”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Jaune felt a bit embarrassed. He liked writing, sue him. At least she didn’t see the typewriter he had under his bed. Or his journals. His many, many, journals.

Nobody could know about those.

Pyrrha then broke the silence. “Can I read it?”

“Of course. Let me clean up, this room is a mess.”

“Thank you beloved.” She gave him a chaste kiss, then opened the book.

As Pyrrha began reading, Jaune looked around the room for things to clean. Dirty clothes (how did he forget to put those away before he left?), music magazines, comic books, and… his bible. 

Well, his grandma’s bible to be precise. It was white, covered with a thick layer of dust. He hasn’t read any religious text in a while. His mind swirled with memories. Memories of reading with his grandparents. Memories of church, of sermons. Memories of prayer, and chanting. But his thoughts were interrupted by a sound most horrible.

RIP

His mind went blank. His vision, going dark.

Pyrrha was horrified. How could she do this? Ripping one of her beloved’s most prized possessions, after he most graciously gave it to her to read. What was wrong with her? She had to apologize. But before she could even mutter the words “I’m sorry,” she heard something fall to the ground. 

THUMP

She looked up to see Jaune standing before his bookcase, completely still. There was a white book near his feet. 

“Jaune? Jaune, are you okay?”

No response.

“Beloved?”

Jaune turned around, and started walking towards the bed. 

“Jaune, I didn’t mean to tear your book. I’m so sorry.”

Jaune got his knees on his bed. He took the book out of her hands, and put it on the nightstand to the right of his bed.

“Jaune, are you okay? I’m sor-MMMMMPH?! MMMmmm, mmmmhhh~.”

All thoughts had left Pyrrha’s head, as she was pulled in for a searing kiss!  Jaune had her pinned, holding her hands above her head. He wasn’t usually this forward in his affection. Jaune was a shy lover, always nervous, always asking. Today, however, he wasn’t asking, he just took. And Pyrrha didn’t mind that one bit.

Hours later…

Jaune woke up sweaty. His head was pounding. What happened? All he could remember was giving Pyrrha The Great Hunt, then cleaning up his room, then… nothing. It was dark out now. How long has he been out? He looked down on himself, and noticed something. He was naked. Completely naked. He gave a shriek of surprise, and then something to the right of him moved.

“Beloved… Just five more minutes…”

It was Pyrrha, also naked, completely passed out. She was a mess. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail. She was sweaty, and breathing heavily. And she was covered in… fluids…

What the hell happened?

[thecanvasofmadness]

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *NSFW *BDSM

Sixth part

Sensing Manuel's desperate need, Asher smirks wickedly, his hand sliding down to palm the growing bulge in the younger man's pants. 

"Greedy little thing, aren't you? Already aching for more, craving the touch of your master like a drug. Well, don't worry, pet. I have so much more planned for you tonight".

He walks Manuel backwards until the younger man's legs hit the edge of the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress. Asher looms over him, drinking in the sight of his marked, trembling form.

"I'm going to fuck you now, boy. Fuck you until you forget your own name, until the only word you remember is 'Master'. I'm going to claim your holes, mark your insides as thoroughly as I've marked your outsides. Are you ready to be ruined, my sweet pet?"

Manuel shudders as he listens to his master, bites his lips as he moans with longing, "I just want to be yours, only yours... no one else's".

Asher's eyes flash with dark triumph at Manuel's wanton plea, a low, possessive growl rumbling in his chest. 

"And you WILL be mine, utterly and completely. I will erase every trace of anyone else from your mind, your body, your very being. By the time I'm done with you, the concept of belonging to anyone but me will be as foreign and unappealing as the idea of breathing underwater".

He makes quick work of removing both their remaining clothes, baring Manuel's marked skin to his hungry gaze. Asher takes a moment to admire his handiwork, trailing his fingers over the raised welts and bruises with a look of dark appreciation. 

"Such a beautiful canvas you make, my pet. I can't wait to add more colors to this masterpiece".

Asher drinks in the delicious sight of Manuel trembling and moaning beneath his touch, the younger man's sensitized skin flushing with renewed heat. 

"Music to my ears, pet. The way you respond to me, so eager, so desperate for my touch even through the pain... it's intoxicating".

He positions himself between Manuel's spread thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at the younger man's entrance. 

"Brace yourself, boy. I won't be gentle. I'm going to take you hard and deep, stake my claim on your most intimate places. You're going to scream for me, beg for me, until the only prayer on your lips is for more of your master's cock splitting you open".

Manuel shudders as he feels Asher's head between his buttocks and moans in a daze, "Oh, master... I want you so much inside me".

With a savage thrust of his hips, Asher sheathes himself fully inside Manuel's tight heat, groaning at the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by his pet's yielding body. 

"Fuck, you feel incredible, boy. So hot, so tight, like you were made just for me".

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into Manuel with deep, powerful strokes designed to reach every inch of his passage. His hands roam the younger man's body possessively, fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving fresh bruises to join the old. 

"Take it, pet. Take every inch of your master's cock. Milk me with your greedy little hole. Show me how much you need it, how much you NEED ME".

Manuel moans loudly, crying as he feels subdued by his master, his hole burns as he is penetrated, "Oh, my master... it hurts.... but I need you… I need you so much".

Asher snarls in feral delight at Manuel's anguished cries, the sound spurring him to fuck into the younger man even harder, even deeper. 

"Yes, hurt for me, scream for me. Let the whole world know who you belong to, who owns this perfect little body".

He leans down, sinking his teeth into the juncture of Manuel's neck and shoulder, biting hard enough to break the skin, to mark him permanently as his. 

"You're MINE, pet. Mine to use, mine to hurt, mine to destroy with pleasure. And I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, make it so that only my touch, only my cock can ever satisfy you again".

Drunk on power and lust, Asher pistons his hips faster, harder, grunting with the effort as he rails into Manuel's spasming hole. 

"That's right, scream it louder! Let the heavens themselves hear you declare your devotion to me. You're my canvas, my plaything, my personal fucktoy. I OWN you, body and soul!"

His hand wraps around Manuel's throat, squeezing just shy of cutting off air as he hilts himself inside the younger man's clenching heat, grinding against that special spot inside that makes stars explode behind Manuel's eyelids. 

"Cum for me, pet. Cum on your master's cock like the desperate little slut you are. Paint yourself in your own release, mark yourself as thoroughly used and owned. NOW!"

Manuel is lost in pain and pleasure, he bursts into profuse tremors and contractions, his cock is also dripping with semen and his anus is squeezing his master's cock with violent spasms.

Asher throws his head back with a roar of triumph as he feels Manuel's inner walls clamping down on him like a vice, milking his cock for all its worth. The rhythmic spasms and the sound of the younger man's broken cries push him over the edge, his own release surging through him like a tidal wave.

"FUCK YES, TAKE IT ALL!"

He bellows, slamming in to the hilt one final time as he begins to empty himself inside Manuel's convulsing channel, painting the younger man's insides with thick ropes of his seed. 

"You're MINE, pet. Now and forever. Filled with my cum, claimed in every way possible. My perfect little fucktoy, my eternal slave".

Collapsing on top of Manuel, Asher catches his breath, savoring the aftershocks of his intense climax. He nuzzles into the sweat-dampened crook of the younger man's neck, lapping lazily at the blooming bruise he left there. 

"Shh, easy pet. Just relax and let it happen. Feel my seed flooding your insides, marking you as mine from the inside out".

His softening cock twitches inside Manuel's still-fluttering hole, a reminder of their intimate connection, their unbreakable bond. 

"You did so well, took your master so perfectly. I'm so very proud of you, my beautiful boy. Rest now, recover your strength".

Manuel takes a breath, wipes his tears, and relaxes on the bed. He turns to look at his master with eyes full of longing.

"I love you".

Asher's expression softens slightly at Manuel's heartfelt declaration, a rare moment of genuine tenderness breaking through his usual mask of dominance. He cups the younger man's face in his large hand, thumb brushing away the last of his tears. 

"I know you do, pet. And I love owning you, possessing you so completely. Your love, your devotion, your utter surrender to me... it's the greatest gift I could ask for".

He seals his words with a surprisingly gentle kiss, pouring a fraction of the depth of his twisted affection into the press of his lips. 

"Sleep now, my darling slave. Dream of me, of us, of the endless ways I plan to worship and defile this gorgeous body of yours. When you wake, we'll begin anew, exploring the depths of our dark passion".

Manuel closes his eyes with tender pleasure, "Good night, my master, my love, my everything".

Asher watches with a satisfied smirk as Manuel drifts off to sleep, the younger man's face slack with exhaustion and sated bliss. He allows himself a moment to simply admire his handiwork - the beautiful canvas of marks and bruises adorning Manuel's skin, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the way his features soften in repose. With a sigh of contentment, Asher settles beside him, pulling the sleeping form close and draping a possessive arm across his waist.

"Sweet dreams, my precious pet", he murmurs, pressing a feather-light kiss to Manuel's temple. "May they be filled with visions of your master's love, as twisted and dark as it may be. For in the end, isn't that what we both crave?"

[thestorieswesay]

9 books that shaped my personality

Gleefully stolen from @dreamingthroughthenoise.

1: Bad Moon by Dudley Bromley

I cannot stress enough how this book shaped my writing style and my appreciation for mysteries and fascinating characters and wild scenarios set in isolated locations. Lightening.

2: Of Two Minds by Carol Matas and Perry Nodleman

This book changed my life. I had never read a twist ending before. I have never read a better one in my life. It shaped my love of gender abnormality - a headstrong, masculine princess, a physically-weak, psychically strong boy who wants nothing to do with 'manly' pursuits. I began to play stories with my dolls where the prince was weak and had to be rescued by the princess. I cannot stress enough how this shaped my life, sexuality, and tastes in fiction. This book walked so Revolutionary Girl Utena could run.

3: The Dark is Rising Sequence by Susan Cooper

This one is cheating a bit because there are seven novels in this series, but apart from the first two, which can both stand alone in their own rights, the Sequence is the best one I've ever read in terms of interconnected stories. Rowling could only dream of creating such a lush world of magic and adventure, Dark vs Light, and mythology and fantasy vs mundane and inorganic processing. Cooper is a master of her class. I can still recite the two poems found in the beginnings of the novels (and set the first one to music when I was nine years old). I remember the Merry Lyon reveal every time I try to foreshadow anything.

4: GUT Symmetries by Jeanette Winterson

This is a book about love. This is a book about betrayal. It is about diamonds, cannibalism, doors that had an affair and had to leave home, about Grand Unification Theory, physics, light, love, and a universe that is so entangled it cannot possibly be redeemed. It is a glorious exploration of love and madness, hope and selfishness, and the desire to be seen above all things. My god, this novel is everything to me.

5: Gentlemen and Players by Joanne Harris

This was one of the only twist endings I never saw coming. The novel, about an aging classics professor at a private school in rural England and the mysterious figure trying to destroy the school for specific and tragic reasons, is compelling and both surprisingly dark and beautifully silly. The tragedy of youth vs the pain of growing older. I figured out The Sixth Sense before the opening credits finished but I did not guess this ending at all, and that fact made me seriously question myself and my biases and my blinders in life. Fascinating.

6: The Sparrow by Maria Doria Russell

I have written a little about this novel before but I don't know if anyone saw it. It is a novel about a Jesuit mission to a mysterious alien planet to make first contact and spread the gospel to a literal new world. It is about a crisis of faith, about the cruelties of the universe, and reconciling that cold, heartless nature with a faith in a loving and tender god. I am not religious but the book moved me in a way I cannot easily explain. I felt Emilio's agony over his mission's missteps and mistakes. I felt his attractions to his crewmembers and his inability to move past social barriers even as he shattered linguistic ones with ease. I felt my whole life grind to a halt when he is nearly killed and survives because of instincts born of decades of abuse at his father's hands. I wept when he was abused in the worst ways possible and how he cried to god to give him some meaning and some succor, only to receive nothing from the universe and everything from those who inhabit it. Truly one of the best novels I've ever read.

7: Night Watch by Terry Pratchett

I used to read this novel every summer for about a decade. The beauty of the Les Miserables analogy, the Glorious People's Republic of Treacle Mine Road, the beautiful and painful and both organized and disorderly ongoings of the Twenty-Fifth of May, and a hard-boiled egg. The concepts of identity, of memory, of fate, and of time, of purpose, of destiny, are so strong and so compelling here. Getting to see my favorite characters in a new (young) way was amazing. Getting to see them grow, win, lose, and learn was compelling. I love this fucking book.

8: American Gods by Neil Gaiman

I know Neil Gaiman is a monstrous and cruel human being, but this book changed my life when I was 17. I had never read such a love song to mythology since Susan Cooper's Dark is Rising and Douglas Adams' Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul. I had been to several of the locations in the book, including spending my summers as a child at Rock City, where the climax of the novel takes place. I felt kinship with the characters, felt moved by their struggles and betrayals, and by the bleak state of the gods of old and the flashy cruelty of the new gods. It felt magical and purposeful and gave me a great deal of hope at a time in my life when my mental health was spiraling out of control (I had my first psychotic break and a nervous breakdown at age 17, about four months before I read the novel). I felt seen. I felt heard. I felt the magic of the novel and I will never forget that nameless sense of satisfaction and contentment that came with finishing that book.

9: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Speaking of a sense of satisfaction and contentment that comes with finishing a book, I must talk about The Pillars of the Earth. This novel is about building a cathedral, but it is also about love, magic, faith, the business of selling wool, and the way the Anarchy of 12th Century England destroyed lives and built worlds. I have never read a more masterfully-crafted overarching plotline. The ending punched me in the stomach and then bought me breakfast as an apology. I read this novel in a fit of mania, all 800 pages in two days. I cannot stress enough how I devoured this novel. When the cathedral rose from nothingness, collapsed, and was rebuilt with newer, smarter technology, I felt like I was there, seeing the majesty of the building, feeling the emotions of the inhabitants. I felt like I was there when Thomas Becket was murdered in his own cathedral. I felt betrayed by the scheming villains and elated by the heroes triumphs, all illustrated with the coming of gothic architecture and the changes of medieval life as writ small and large by the buildings and hearts of the people. A magnificent novel on a scale that is overly-ambitious but works.

(bonus): Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson

I wish this was an even 10 novels because I feel like I would be remiss if I didn't include this last one of my most influential novels. I use excerpts from this novel on my tumblr and it is very dear to me. "...If you tell yourself like a story, it doesn't seem so bad," and "Tell me a story and I won't be lonely," are some of the most powerful lines I, as a traumatized and mentally and physically disabled author, have taken to heart.

"Why can't you just tell me the story without starting with another story?" - "Because there's no story that's the start of itself." - Magical.

I would like to tag @m34gs, @atreefullofstars, @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter, @aintgonnatakethis, @pinkantihistamine and anyone else who feels like doing it! If you do do it, please tag me because I want to see what you've read and been shaped by, and why! This is the best one of these games I've seen in a really long time and I spent HOURS writing this post because I felt so inspired by it! Show me what you got!

[creepyethan]

Chapter one (Jeff the killer x male oc) (horror) (creepypasta)- It was the year 2016 when there was a string of murders everywhere in a small quiet town.. from whole families being killed in their own houses in the middle of the night with smiles carved in their faces to couples being murdered in the woods while sneaking off to do their own thing. No one knew why these murders were happening but it scared the whole town. People even homeschooled their children and such and now present time on a chilly autumn afternoon a young man walked from school to go home his earbuds in his ears as he blasted music in his ears, his backpack slung over his right shoulder as he walked passing and the young man was named Jake lockeheart. He was relatively a quiet and calm kid, always stuck in the background and such not really one for attention. But as he was walking he felt someone walking behind him like a sixth sense of sorts and he walked a bit faster but when it kept happening he stopped and turned around sharply but no one was there and he took his headphones off a bit and let them rest around his neck but when he saw no one there he bunched up his eyebrows a bit and mumbled.

“What the…probably my imagination…”

He mumbled before he turned back around and resumed walking and after that it took about ten more minutes till he got to his home..his house was a pretty normal house being a light blue colored house with a rose garden in the front and there was a driveway which was occupied by a black car, his fathers car as he lived with his father as his mother had never been a good person to be around. She had always preferred her drinks and cigarettes, even when Jake was a little toddler when he lived with her and his father and her were still together all it was was non stop arguing and Jake’s father was the only one who actually paid attention to him and made sure he ate. But after his mother and father had gotten a divorce when he had turned six years old and despite his mother trying to keep Jake his father wasn’t having it so now he lived with his father who was a doctor at the near by hospital and he was relatively good man as well.

Now Jake walked up to the house door and opened it finding it unlocked and he entered and found his dad in the living room on his computer just typing away but he looked up when Jake entered the house and smiled warmly at him.

“Hey Jake, how was school, buddy?”

He said but only got a shrug from Jake as he walked up the stairs to his room to get a fresh new pair of bed clothes before he dropped his backpack onto his bed and tossed his phone and headphones with it onto the bed and soon after he went to the bathroom and started up the shower and when he sat his clothes on the sink he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused as he didn’t like looking at himself in the mirror because of that disgusting looking patch around the eye he had gotten from his mother when she had lashed out and shoved his face by the stove and so around his eye had been burned and his eye was half blind. And he had spiked fluffy blonde hair that reached his eyebrows and tanned skin and baby blue colored eyes. And his lanky form was always covered by baggy clothes to hide many other scars but as he stripped his clothes and got into the shower he closed his eyes imagining the water washed all his worries down the drain. But after what seemed to be ten or fifteen minutes he heard shouting from down stairs and he looked over to the door before shutting the shower water off and grabbing his towel and quickly drying off and throwing on a baggy hoodie and some basketball shorts and he didn’t worry about drying his hair as he got out of the bathroom and to peek downstairs but he froze as the shouting got louder his fathers voice booming through the house and his mothers shrieking voice soon also being heard. His mother was seen swaying in the doorway her eyes bloodshot and she wore a old worn green dress with a old blue jean jacket over it and some regular slides but she was clearly under the influence of something and Jake’s father was trying to get her to leave but soon Jake’s mother reached behind her back seeming to grab something hidden before she lunged forward and his father went silent but Jake saw it all and watched with wide eyes. His father had been stabbed…by his mother..but it didn’t stop there as when his father stumbled back his mother took the chance to pounce on him and keep stabbing and stabbing until she stopped and she looked around before she looked at the stairs but Jake moved quicker and ran up the stairs into his bedroom and grabbed his phone from his bed as he got to the window and opened it and he looked down to see the drop but luckily a tree was just a few feet of a jump away and so he braced himself and just as he heard his mothers raspy voice say.

“Jake?….Jake dearie~ come out~! Momma wants to see you~”

She said in a sing song like voice which made his heart race but then he jumped and as he was about to touch the tree he missed and fell to the ground with a thud then a cry after a sickening crack that sounded from his left arm. But he got up and ran to try and go his his neighbors house but just then his mother rushed out of the house looking left and right and when she saw Jake she grinned and started running quiet weirdly after him.. making his eyes go wide in alarm and he looked at his phone to turn it on but it was cracked from the fall but he could still call the police and so he did..

-911 what’s your emergency?-

“I-I’m being chased! My mom just killed my dad and now she’s chasing me with a knife!!!”

-Alright please go find a place to take cover and don’t let her get to you! What’s your address-

“Xxxxx street”

He said into the phone as when the neighbors didn’t answer he turned heel and ran grunting as his arm throbbed.. But his mom was a bit behind him stumbling but her eyes were wide open and her grin almost reached her ears it seemed. As the operator kept telling him to find a place he couldn’t so then he was told to grab a weapon and he soon saw a big stick under a tree across the street in front of the old abandoned burnt house at the end of the street and so he grabbed it and looked around before he just ran into the house but would soon realize how big of a mistake it would be as his phone was about to die and his psycho mother was following with that sickening expression and that knife that had been used on his father and yet Jake didn’t let any tears fall from his face as he was purely running on adrenaline and flight as he ran into that house and up the stairs and he soon found a room and shut and locked the door that surprisingly did lock. But what they did not know both him and his approaching mother was that someone lurked in that very house…someone that would be their worst nightmare..

(Sorry if this is to short but I will get chapter two out soon, also sorry if the storyline goes to fast this is only my second time writing things like this I’m trying to get better)