#and so he's learned to control it and distance himself from it

[agueforts]

sometimes i think when some of u talk about gorgug u forget zac isn't white

[funsize-cenobites]

Australian Werewolf Sniper....

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

"DAD!"

Bruce sighed at the familiar call, instantly recognizing the voice. It was you, the child he never intended to have, thrust into his life by forces beyond his control. He still wasn't ready for this—wasn't ready to be a father.

In the early days, you’d tried calling him "father" or "dad," hoping for a connection. But he’d ignore you every time, barely acknowledging the title. Frustrated, you’d started calling him "Mr. Wayne" out of spite. And to your surprise, he responded. Since then, you'd settled into calling him as if he were just another public figure, like some distant acquaintance. You learned quickly that Bruce Wayne didn't want to be publicly labeled as your father, that he wasn’t comfortable with the label at all.

But now, hearing that word—"Dad"—from you in public, his irritation rose. He’d told you ages ago not to call him that outside the manor. Yet, there was also a sliver of satisfaction; he finally had a reason to confront you over it, something he’d oddly wanted since you’d moved in.

Turning around to find you, Bruce stopped short. There you were, arms around Harvey Dent, laughing in a way that sent a pang through him. It was the kind of bright, easy laughter he’d never heard from you in his presence. The warmth in your eyes, the carefree lightness in your smile—it all seemed reserved for Dent, a scene that felt oddly father-child-like.

His grip tightened unconsciously, fingers curling around the grass he’d been holding. Harvey looked back at you with an almost fatherly pride, and it stung in a way Bruce couldn’t have anticipated. In that moment, the crowd faded around him, and all he could focus on was the two of you, bonded in a way he hadn’t managed to be with you.

Your laughter rang in his ears like a melody he’d never noticed before, something beautiful and elusive. And for the first time, Bruce felt something new—a desire to be the one to make you laugh like that, a yearning to hear it directed at him. He wanted all of it for himself.

Bruce’s hands clenched involuntarily, his fingers digging into his palms. He told himself that he was better than Dent in every way that mattered—stronger, more capable, more disciplined. But in this, seeing how effortlessly Dent could make you feel safe and valued, he felt an unsettling flicker of doubt. Bruce could face any enemy, any challenge, but standing here, watching someone else make you feel what he couldn’t, he felt almost... inadequate.

The feeling was absurd. Jealousy wasn’t supposed to affect him; he’d trained himself to be above such things. But he couldn’t stop the bitterness gnawing at him as he watched Dent with you, a man whose easy warmth contrasted so painfully with Bruce’s own guarded nature. It stung to realize that, for all his power and reputation, he was losing you to his own friend. Dent looked at you with pride and affection, the kind that came naturally to him—and Bruce hated that Dent could offer you what he hadn’t even known you needed.

And then, through the murmur of the crowd, your voice rang out again—“Dad!”—directed at Dent, not him. Something twisted painfully in Bruce’s chest, his vision blurring as he watched you lean into Dent’s embrace, trusting and relaxed. The sight was a punch to his pride, yes, but more than that, it was a revelation of all he’d pushed away, all the moments he’d let slip by because he hadn’t wanted to be vulnerable.

For the first time, Bruce felt an unfamiliar desperation creep in, a fear he’d never faced even in the darkest moments of his life. Losing you to Dent seemed almost absurd, yet it was becoming a reality before his eyes. He was starting to see the damage his own indifference had caused, each unspoken word and dismissed gesture now cutting him deeper than he would ever admit aloud.

If only he’d turned around that first time you called him "Dada." If only he’d been there, shown you warmth instead of distance. Now someone else was in the place he’d abandoned, and he feared—truly feared—that you were already too far out of his reach to bring back.

(A/n: feel free to use this idea to make a story! Though you needa tag me too😼)

[logaenhowlett]

THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN HER HANDS - L.H.

Summary: After months of watching you relentlessly try to gain control of your powers, Logan finally takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff - so much damn fluff, Slight angst, Language

A/N: Suffering from writer's block on a plot-driven angsty Logan fic so I wrote this to focus on something else. Shout out to End by Frank Ocean. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“You’ve been going at it for hours.”

His voice makes you pause, shifting your concentration to the man leaning against the door frame. Logan watches as you swing your head down, possibly frustrated by his interruption.

“Professor said I’d get better at this,” You swipe the sweat off your face, grabbing your drenched shirt as it clings to your skin, “It’s been months and I'm nowhere near strong enough.”

He huffs in amusement, he would often catch you in moments like these, tiring yourself hour after hour till you were exhausted enough to finally pass out. It reminds him of his early days at this place. Young and eager to prove himself to everyone here, that he was capable of being good once again.

“Old man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” A measly attempt to shut down your self-deprecation, he knows nothing will convince you otherwise, that much he learned over the last few times he tried reasoning with you. When you shoot him a questioning glance, he relents, raising his hands up in defense. “Alright. But you’re not doing any good wearing yourself to the bone.”

“I just want to be like Storm and Scott and you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, the bar ain’t that high.” A teasing grin shining as he approaches you, the annoyed expression on your face does little to stop him. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He chuckles at your confusion, wandering dangerously close into your personal space. “I wanna show you something,” He murmurs.

Flirting isn’t a new concept to him at all. Though you never get used to his attempts, always brushing it off with the assumption that it’s just a game.

“Logan - I need to keep practicing.” You take a few steps back, creating a little distance from his very distracting presence. “It’s the only way I’ll get better at controlling this.”

“Okay.” He drags out, “You can still keep doing this when we come back.”

As you contemplate his request, he knows he has you convinced, a grin tugging on his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

When he leads you to the mansion's garage, you recall all the times he'd whisked you away from moments of misery and fatigue. He seemed to have this innate ability to know when you're in over your head, too absorbed into whatever you were doing to take a step back and relax. A tinge of embarrassment creeps into your thoughts, feeling bad for him to constantly keep checking in as if you were incapable of knowing your limits. Fuck, I'm a mess. You snap yourself from going down the negative route, shifting your focus to Logan, a chuckle escapes you.

“You know he hates it when you steal his bike, right?”

He swings a leg over, revving the engine. The sound seems to unintentionally comfort you, your mind having subconsciously associated it with him. Despite Scott being the owner of vehicle, he rarely saw it since it was Logan’s choice of transportation. Fucking dickhead, he used to curse up and down, unwillingly giving up after Charles reasoned with him one too many times. You remember the entire ordeal, having to intervene during one of their many childish fights when Scott attempted to blow up Logan’s ass.

“I’ll fill up the tank.”

“No, you won’t.” A short laugh leaves you as you wrap your arms around him.

He flashes a smile, tilting his head back to ensure you’re properly seated. “No, I won’t.”

You hardly pay attention to his driving, instead mindlessly watching the scenery zip past. It wasn't the first time Logan had taken you on a ride. In fact, after the initial fear, you had grown fond of this time you got share with him. A quiet and peaceful journey where you could turn your restless mind off and simply enjoy each other's company. An unspoken vow of trust had always lingered between you two, which was something he cherished more than he could ever express. He smiles softly at the weight of you resting on his back as the breeze encompasses around you.

“How’d you even find this place?” You ask, sliding off the seat as he kicks the stand.

“Used it for shelter during that snowstorm a while ago. The bike gave out on me.”

You hum in response, spinning on your feet to look around. It's an abandoned gas station that had definitely seen better days. Despite all the damage and vandalisation, it was an oddly interesting location, a lake nearby overlooking lush fields. Nothing in Logan's expression gives away his intention of bringing you here. He slowly steps backwards, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips and when he's a decent distance away, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Use your power, sweetheart. Don’t be scared, you can do it.” It's rather encouraging and not at all akin to his usual cocky tone.

“Logan - what, no!” You exclaim, finding his proposal ridiculous. “I’m not - I can’t even fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

He scoffs, amused you could even suggest such a thing, “Well, you’re gonna have to control it, aren’t ya?” When you make no attempt to try, his gaze softens, “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, channelling your focus to create a ball of energy between your hands. Despite being small, it hits him with enough force to push him back a few steps. A groan leaves him as he clutches his stomach, you shift to run towards him but he lifts his hand, making you stop.

“Again. Don’t hold back.”

This time you think of Charles, remembering all the lessons and training sessions you've had with him. Where you had always doubted yourself, he had constantly reassured you and your ability to control your gift. The ball of energy grows more between your hands, crackling with intensity. Using all your might, you aim at Logan once again, hitting him square in the chest, thrusting him back several feet, the impact denting the ground in the process. He stands up feeling a bit lightheaded, though that sensation disappears as he flexes his muscles, grateful for his healing factor.

“I did it!” You laugh in surprise, running to him.

His arms immediately wrap around you, slightly lifting you off the ground. “You did it,” He says with a faint smile, taking in your satisfaction.

Caught up in moment of finally making progress, you notice the lack of space between Logan and you. And suddenly, his hands on your waist, his tender expression, it all becomes too much, making you pull back. “You’re insane. That could’ve gone so wrong,” You spit out, trying to relieve some tension.

“I trust you.” He whispers, softly.

Your body seems to be on fire, everything about this begins to overwhelm your senses. With a shaky breath, you try stepping away from his gentle grip.

“Why do you always run from me?” His words still your movements. His eyes can't seem to find yours, instead settling on the charred ground beneath him, "I know… you feel this too.”

“I’m - I don’t…”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I won’t run away.” He approaches you, giving you the space to reject his advances. ”I promise.”

When you don't respond, he hangs his head low, accepting your decision. “Let’s go home,” He mumbles.

As you walk down the hallway to your room, you can't seem to shake the urge to run back to him. You take a moment, hand grasping your doorknob before you spin around. Within seconds of knocking on his door, he swings it open catching your distinct heartbeat on the other side.

“Logan - I just…” The words die on your tongue. Every little feeling you'd held for him comes rushing forward. As he stands there, growing concerned for your wellbeing, all you can think about is kissing him till the air leaves your lungs.

“You okay?”

That's enough for you to slam into him. You grab the collar of his white shirt, pulling him down. Your lips find his own, slowly moving against the soft flesh. It takes him less than a second to comprehend what's happening before he reciprocates your actions.

You tilt your head back, inhaling his comforting scent. He continues peppering kisses on your face, unable to stop once he finally got a taste. “I'm sorry, I was scared. I am scared,” You whisper.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.” He murmurs against your lips, “If you let me.”

Your smile sends flutters to his heart. His low chuckle echoes within you as he leans down, capturing your lips with a hunger he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember. When your moan teases his senses, he lifts you with ease, one arm securing your waist and the other gently stroking the underside of your thigh. He lowers you down onto the bed, noting your exhaustion from earlier. Sliding right next to you, he presses a light kiss on your temple, pulling you into his warm embrace. A silent promise that he'll never let you go.

[wolviensabes]

Wolverine and Sabretooth in rut. You are completely screwed (literally).

Primal mutants = rut cycle. Obviously. Written in a headcannon style. NOT poly, the title looks a little misleading lmao. Not edited so pls ignore mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+

Logan aka Wolverine

Logan gets crazy when he's in rut. He tries his best to keep his distance at first because he knows if he gets near you and smells you, he will lose all of his composure and throw you onto the bed.

He growls and huffs a lot, he's vocal about his needs and he warns you many times before he gives in. "This isn't like before...if I fuck you, I'm fucking you hard. Once I start I won't be able to stop." Logan's voice wavers with desperation as he tries to keep himself controlled.

The thought of him losing all his composure and pinning you down, making you take it, turned you on more than you thought, and he could smell it.

Logan gets a little cocky when he smells your arousal, and he drags you into the bedroom for some much needed relief...for the both of you.

He tries to be as considerate as possible, but in rut he's much more driven by instinct and focused on himself. He can't stop himself from driving into you and reaching his climax as soon as possible.

Something about him using you to relieve his primal need turned you on so badly, you laid as he wanted you, rutting into you from behind as he let out loud, guttural groans and growls into the back of your neck. He stretched you so good, and his thrusts always hit the right spots.

The marks he leaves on you are insane. He leaves bruises where he holds you, how he tosses you around the bedroom, his teeth and mouth leave various bites and dark love-marks. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he throws you around, in the moment he's blinded by his desire and he can't stop himself.

In the brief moments where he calms enough to recover some sense, usually only after cumming many times inside you, he will look you over to make sure you're not hurt. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but his instincts make it hard for him to control his strength sometimes.

He doesn't like you anywhere besides his place, and honestly...wear loose fitted clothes. Or nothing you really like. Because it's going to be shredded off your body. One time you wore one of his shirts and he ripped it off you without a second thought.

Logan's rut can last anywhere from two weeks to a month. He only experiences one per year, either in the fall or the spring.

He tries to disappear for most of it, fearing he will literally fuck you until your body can't take it anymore. But with your insistence, he relents and gives in.

He's so appreciative of you, you learn to help him not just with sex, but by making things as comfortable as possible. Ruts hurt. He is almost in desperate need of relieving himself, and you do what you can, even though he understands he can't constantly fuck you. There's always other ways you can help him.

When his rut comes to an end, he's more affectionate rather than needing to fuck every day. He tries to do things he knows you like as a thank you without being too mushy about it. He lets his actions speak for themselves.

"You doin' alright, sweet thing...? Nngh m'almost done...just a little more." He will grunt to you, either getting ready to plow you again or during, he does his best to reassure you with words even when it's hard for him to communicate fully.

Even if it's hard at first, you get used to it and it's a good thing to experience with him. It brings you both closer, having been there for him during it.

Victor aka Sabretooth

Dudeee please. Victor is quite literally an animal when he's in rut, he becomes 90% non-verbal, and all he wants to do is fuck.

The second you come home he slams the door behind you and grabs you, smelling your neck with deep inhales. His chest vibrates deeply, guttural growls escaping with each breath he took. His hands are firm around you, one hand moves to grab your jaw and tilt your head back.

You try to speak to him, but the only responses you get are growls and low snarling. You finally turn to face him, with great difficulty since he nearly imbedded his claws into your flesh. He huffs deeply, looking more wild than usual. "Victor...what's gotten into you...?"

He'd watch you constantly, rubbing himself all over you. Cooking? He's behind you, chest to back, rubbing himself against your body. Sitting on the couch, he's almost on top of you. He constantly is brushing against you, or holding you close enough to be touching him.

He grooms you regardless if you want him to or not. He will tear your shirt off and lick your skin, most of the time he aims for your tender spots. He licks your neck and ears, over your chest, your face, everything. If you try to stop him he snaps and growls at you, so you just sit there and let him do his thing.

He also surprisingly likes when you reciprocate. You don't have to lick him back, but messing with his hair or showering together is a good compromise. If you can manage to get him in the shower...he likes his musk and likes having his musk all over you.

Victor quite literally stalks you. He stalks you around his cabin and watches you clean or do whatever else. When you least expect it, he pounces on you and drags you into the bedroom. "M'sorry sweets, but you're gonna be sore as hell when m'done."

Victor is a lot more rough and unrelenting than Logan. He claws you and bites, he does make an effort not to cause any severe harm, but there's a first aid kit by the bed for a reason. There is a weak urge to hold back, but honestly he can't help himself.

He fucks you from behind 90% of the time when he's rutting, he gets the best hold on you from behind and he can really push his cock far inside you, plus you feel much tighter that way.

From behind he can also bite down on the nape of your neck, and he holds on as he completely ruins you. His teeth sink into your flesh while his hips snap into your ass over and over until cum is overflowing out of you.

Victor's rut can last anywhere between two weeks and two months. He also goes into rut twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.

Unlike Logan, Victor doesn't bother hiding his rut from you. He tells you what it is before he enters it, and he does give you the chance to disappear for the time if you think you can't handle it.

If you decide to stay while he goes through it then...you'll definitely be feeling it for two months. Nearly feels like he fucks you open, and not only that, but he is almost always buried lapping you. He licks, sucks, and cleans your sex, loving all your sounds of desperation. It just urges him on even further.

When his rut is over, he is visibly much more protective over you. You endured his brutality and slight aggression, now he wants you to stay at his home so he can keep you somewhere he can control.

Victor isn't one for words, he prefers to show things rather than say them. But deep down he's glad that you help him, he adores your willingness and it makes him feel more possessive over you. Big cat man purrs as he licks you clean after~

Ty for reading 🧡

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Wolverine Vol 8: Sabretooth War Pt 1 (2020)

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (1)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily

࿐ for those who yearn <3

—

“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”

jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 

from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.

he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 

his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 

“what do you think i work here for?” 

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 

unhappy faces with blank stares. 

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 

“jungkook! sit!” 

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 

“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 

the earth begins to move in slow motion. 

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 

gone is the smile on his face. 

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 

and why is his breaking too? 

your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 

what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?

lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.

the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 

there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 

slow motion comes to a full stop.

shit, shit, shit. 

why can’t he look away? 

you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 

he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.

“huh?”

the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.

wait, including you… 

when did you get a cap?!

“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.

he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 

“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”

taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 

“does he have snacks in here at least?”

—

blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 

he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.

“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 

you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 

you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 

you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 

he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 

“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 

he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 

“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 

seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 

could it really be because of a boy?

a bicycle enters his line of vision. 

a little too close not to cause an accident. 

“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 

the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 

jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 

the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 

“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”

“yah! what was that for?!” 

he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 

while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 

his angry expression softens. 

you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.

“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 

you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 

he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 

even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.

“why?”

he has the same question.

“just because…”

no, that won’t do it.

“maybe it could make you feel better.”

oh my god.

“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”

still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 

“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.

he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 

meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 

he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 

blue top and black cap… 

there you are. 

leaving- 

wait. 

the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?

he huffs in sheer disbelief.

“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 

—

if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  

she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 

as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 

“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”

the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 

“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 

“thanks,”

he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  

“you’re welcome!” 

—

 

“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 

jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.

“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 

“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”

“do you want to die?” 

“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 

jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”

“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 

“huh? no.”

“you’re lying.”

“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 

so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 

taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 

“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 

“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”

“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 

“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”

“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 

“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 

took him long enough to deduce.

“then should we go after your nap?” 

“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”

taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 

jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“okay, fine!” 

in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 

“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 

jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 

—

 

it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 

one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 

he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 

he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 

“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 

completely unrelated. 

a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 

“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 

jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 

“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 

“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 

“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 

“so what? we all got issues.” 

“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 

“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 

wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.

“now, shall we rank up?” 

—

 

it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.

too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 

at least that’s the excuse he used. 

his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.

he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.

jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 

they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.

jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 

“hello everyone,” he coos at them.

do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 

“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 

—

 

on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 

eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 

that is when he finally notices you. 

your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 

despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 

“i know you…” 

a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 

“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”

and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

well, and there’s also the crippling shame.

you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 

it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?

“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”

you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 

is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 

“yeah, light pink…” 

“it suits you well.” 

“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 

a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 

“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”

“i moved in today.”

“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 

you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.

“i live at the 13th floor.“ 

what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.

“how about you?” 

“hm, 10!” 

you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.

“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”

“names?” 

the random question seems to catch him off guard.

“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”

“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”

but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 

—

 

the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 

he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 

he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 

funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 

“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 

“i already did.”

“you did?”

“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”

“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”

you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 

“when i come home from work.”

“that’s nice…” 

the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 

“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”

“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”

“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 

pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 

“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 

his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.

“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”

he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.

however, he is a tiny bit confused.

it shows on his face, apparently.

“the motor kind,” you clarify. 

“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 

it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 

“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 

your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.

“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 

he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 

hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.

“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”

—

 

jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.

what a small world, huh? 

what is this if not fate?

he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.

this might just become the best summer of his life. 

—

jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 

wait, there’s something wrong…

he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.

“ah, i’m so stupid!”

he totally forgot to ask your name! 

“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 

he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 

he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 

“still having a bad day.” 

—

but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 

so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 

his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.

he taps his foot on the floor.

he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.

he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.

next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 

he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 

he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 

—

what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 

for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 

if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 

he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 

he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 

the elevator dings and he runs.

until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 

your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 

you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?

“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”

“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”

the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 

“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 

“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 

“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”

jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 

“this is jungkook.” 

the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 

“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 

“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 

“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 

you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 

“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 

he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 

“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 

jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 

“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 

—

so, his name is jungkook…

you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 

the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 

“he’s a good kid.”

you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.

long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 

“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 

after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 

—

“hyung…”

“why?” 

jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 

“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 

“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 

thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 

well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 

he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 

jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 

“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”

“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”

“i don’t have her number.”

“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”

“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”

“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 

“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 

seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 

“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 

“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 

you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 

“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 

“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 

jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”

—

jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 

since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 

“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”

“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 

“i won it fair and square!” 

he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 

“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”

he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 

—

his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 

so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 

too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 

when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.

a car with blinding headlights zooms past.

it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 

there’s no one around here with same hair color. 

none that he knows of anyway. 

he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 

he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 

you were going to notice his presence eventually. 

he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 

you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 

you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.

you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 

he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 

could have it been on purpose? 

“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”

“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 

“is there anything i can do?”

no response. 

he tries again. “anything at all?” 

“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 

your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 

“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 

your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 

he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 

a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.

—

you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 

nothing matters anymore.

you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 

you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 

they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.

so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  

you pray to god that you never wake up.

—

you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 

you open your eyes to darkness.

just as you predicted; nobody listens. 

you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 

you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 

the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 

your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 

under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.

—

after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 

he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.

it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 

yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 

no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 

“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”

his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 

“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”

the live is temporarily put on pause. 

“who is this?”

his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.

  2:45am

hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 

this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 

a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 

you texted him. you finally texted him.

he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 

he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?

“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 

he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 

“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 

he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 

“i don’t think so…”

hold on…

it feels like he’s forgetting something…

“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 

he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.

“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 

—

his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 

his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 

given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 

how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 

a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 

there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 

you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 

—

the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 

the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 

“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 

“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 

with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 

“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”

your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 

“how? it’s easy!” 

he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 

“you have the exact same nose.” 

“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 

your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.

“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 

cute. 

“so… why did you lie?”

he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?

you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.

—

“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”

you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 

“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”

it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 

“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 

“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 

“yeah?” 

“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  

you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.

“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”

“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”

“h-how do i do that?” 

“flick my forehead!”

you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”

“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 

why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 

“let’s do that!”

“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 

but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 

“here i go!”

he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 

son of a bitch. that hurt. 

“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 

you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”

  —

“you fed them, right?”

“of course i did. you?”

“yes, this morning.”

“okay, that’s good.”

you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 

deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 

he sneaks a glance at you.

perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 

he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 

he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 

“it’s called the dreamboat.”

“what is?” 

the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 

“at the amusement park.” 

“oh…”

it falls silent. 

jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 

“i wonder why they called it that.”

“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 

a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 

“what was it?” 

“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”

jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 

“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”

a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 

“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”

“how did you know that though? the truth?”

he shrugs. “i work there.”

“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”

“you? do you study or work?”

“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 

apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.

“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”

you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”

ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 

“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 

“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 

his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 

once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 

“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”

“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”

“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 

you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”

“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”

“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 

he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.

“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 

in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 

“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 

“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 

“but it turns out they have you already.”

“it’s not just me now.”

he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.

“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”

jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 

your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.

“uhm, this is me.” 

yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 

“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”

your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

—

if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 

he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 

  10:08am

[attached image]

they’re happy and fed :)

10:10am

[attached image]

babies are getting bigger

this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.

were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 

no longer relevant. 

he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 

another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 

although, there was once a miracle.

he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.

  11:59pm

LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ

😭😭😭

“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 

things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 

‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’

he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 

—

“when are you asking her out on a date?”

taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 

“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 

“when’s that ‘right time’?” 

“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 

“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”

that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 

“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 

“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 

the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.

“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”

he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 

“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 

and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”

“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”

“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”

“this vacation was a trap.”

the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.

“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 

a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.

  

—

“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”

does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 

the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 

seconds later, a black harley races past.

jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 

the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 

“w-was that…?”

—

he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 

you’re so fucking cool. 

he’s both amazed and envious. 

also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 

a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 

he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 

the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.

“what? who could it be at this hour?” 

he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 

the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 

“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”

—

jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 

“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 

he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 

“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.

you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”

“thank you.”

you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 

“i’m really scared, jungkook.”

“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”

“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 

his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 

“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 

he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.

“and you said… he was burnt?” 

“yeah, why?”

he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”

“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”

“i swear, it's nothing!”

“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”

“forget it, ____.”

“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”

shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.

he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 

“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”

“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 

he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 

“oh… so you’re saying…”

“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 

“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 

“don’t!” he protests. 

perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 

“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”

“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 

that works like a charm. 

you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 

if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 

“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 

—

“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 

“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 

he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.

“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“thank you, jungkook.” 

“it’s no problem!”

his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 

you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 

he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 

sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 

“is that your girlfriend?” 

jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.

“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 

he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”

“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.

“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”

“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 

“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”

“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 

“a client. people pay me to draw them.”

“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.

the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.

he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”

“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 

“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 

“no one’s asked you?”

he shakes his head. “no one,”

“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 

he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 

what the fuck?

did he hear you right? 

it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 

“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“sorry, i was just surprised.” 

he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 

“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 

please do and stop shaking up my heart. 

“goodnight.” 

“goodnight, ____.” 

—

jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 

anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.

he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 

sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.

“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 

oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 

“of course,” 

he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 

if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 

it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 

“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 

jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 

—

true to your words, you did move as morning came. 

jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 

“____?” 

he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 

did you really leave without saying goodbye? 

he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 

a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.

he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 

“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”

“jungkook! you’re awake.” 

you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.

“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”

he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.

“1309?” he exclaims.

“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 

almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 

he’s fucking ecstatic. 

if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 

the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 

“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 

—

time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 

what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 

now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 

fuck, he misses you. 

your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 

he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 

an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.

No Name

Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 

snack break at the aquarium? 

he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 

did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 

ridiculous. 

so cute and ridiculous. 

—

“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”

jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 

but most importantly, what did you just say?

“y-you didn’t throw it away?”

“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”

“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 

he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.

“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”

“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 

you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”

—

  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 

“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”

the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 

“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 

“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  

you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 

he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.

“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 

jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 

“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 

“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 

“you free sunday?” 

“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 

please say yes.

“sure, that works.”

he breaks into a triumphant smile. 

yes! 

—

jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.

“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 

“you can barely see my face.” 

“i see it!”

your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 

“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 

“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 

this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 

“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 

scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”

“i’m joking!” you giggle.

“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.

that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 

“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 

you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.

—

the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 

while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 

“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.

“i’ll pay you back.” 

“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.

“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”

“call!” 

jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 

“okay, let’s go.”

he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.

the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 

of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 

“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”

not even in art or television. it’s strange. 

he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 

his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 

he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.

a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 

if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 

“it’s not the fish i want.” 

he doesn’t hear you. 

do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 

“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”

his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 

“like you,” the words slip out without thought.

—

a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 

“like me…”

— 

after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 

he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 

the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.

it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.

“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 

you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  

“have any ideas?”

“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”

he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.

“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 

“those are cute names.”

“you like them?”

“yes, they really sound like siblings!”

“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”

“hmmm…” 

he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”

“sorry,” he winces.

your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 

“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”

“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”

you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 

he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  

“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”

“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.

“dahlia it is!” 

“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 

“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 

“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”

he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 

and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 

“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”

“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 

“should i just give it to you?”

you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”

“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 

“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 

your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 

“i like being the only one.”

you fell asleep seconds after that.

he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 

it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 

a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 

eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[tomahachi12]

What's the story behind your drone-sona? Since she has the Cabin Fever tag, I was curious what's the story behind her.

BUCKLE UP, IT'S A LONG ONE (some of this is headcanon crap, so not all info would be show accurate)

Toma (012) was a just regular worker drone working within the offices of the JCJenson Mining Facility.

The area of the offices she worked in had drones split into small groups to complete larger projects. She was part of the group which included Nori (002), Yeva (048) and Alice (017) (I LOVE THEM LEAVE ME ALONE).

She was usually tasked with taking paperwork back and forth between her group to turn in or for them to work on, something she was.. pretty bad at.

Because of Nori's shenanigans, their group often got in trouble with the humans.

At some point, Drones began to be selected from a lottery pool to be transferred to the lower levels of the facility. At first, the Humans would play this off as a "promotion" of sorts in order to keep the drones from becoming suspicious of their intentions and keep their minds at ease.

As time went on, the humans dropped the façade and the drones began to fear these selections, given that the chosen drones were never seen or heard from again after being selected.

Eventually, Toma's ID was drawn as the next to go. (she was chosen first out of their group, next was Alice, then Yeva and Nori was the last)

Toma was taken down the Cabin Fever Labs to be used in the "Solver" experiments.

When she was infected with the Solver Program, it took her over instantly. She was quickly given an early version of the patch (1.5.8) before causing too much damage.

The effect of the Solver's code on her body left her lethargic and forgetful. Since she was patched early, she cannot use the solver, but still suffers from it's effects; occasional possession, the need to consume oil, ect..

Not being able to provide much information for their research, the humans mostly kept her bound in her locker. Sometimes they even forgot she was in there.

Before the core collapse, she was able to escape her chains and wondered around the mines for a minute before the eventual implosion.

She was blown out the facility and somehow managed to survive, not only the blast, but even the crash back down to the planet. Though it knocked her offline for a time, causing anyone that found her to think she was dead.

RIP Toma lol

After she eventually woke up, she stayed put for a few months, hiding out in the outer buildings of the facility until she was found by another worker drone.

This drone invited Toma to join his colony, Outpost 9. She agreed and followed him to the base (wow Toma, ever heard of stranger danger gdamn..)

Toma was welcomed in this colony and she lived there for several years, learning how to live a life free from human-control. She was even able to pick up an old hobby she was never allowed to do back at the offices, drawing.

The nightmares gave her plenty to draw anyway.

Eventually, it all went to shit when the Murder Drones showed up, popped that base open like a soda can, and killed everyone inside.

Toma's solver kept her hidden long enough her to escape unnoticed. She needed somewhere to go and began to make her way toward the city she saw in the distance.

( oh hi, Y )

It took a while but she made it to the City only to find, you guessed it, more Murder Drones. She somehow managed to dodge them as well and found her way to some very large doors that resembled the ones back at her old colony. She frantically banged on the doors, shouting for help as she Murder Drones closed in on her.

The doors suddenly cracked open and a hand reached out, grabbing hold of Toma's coat and pulled her inside before slamming shut again.

She was met by a group of drones all sitting around a table, seemingly playing cards. The drone that pulled her in helped her up to her feet. After checking if she was alright, he introduced himself as "Khan" the apparent leader of this colony. Outpost 3.

She was welcomed in` just as warmly as she was in her last colony, and settled in easily, but soon found this colony was quite.. different from her old one. There were.. "kids" running around, and "babies" and... "teenagers".. Some drones were even married.

She also found out that every adult drones had to contribute to their society as well, unless they were raising children. Everyone had a job, and Toma was expected to have one as well.

She decided to join the Worker Defense Force, mostly as "watchman". She was tasked with doing patrols around the colony, looking out for any potential problems or weak points that could cause a breach.

She was pretty bad at it since she kept falling asleep while on patrol or forgetting where she was suppose to be.

The others were very forgiving toward her, though, but they figured she needed a different job.

After taking note of her interest in art, she was given the job as the new Art Teacher for the school.

Now if only she could stop falling asleep in class..

TL;DR/I only looked at the pretty pictures:

Toma was part of the Solver Experiments and now lives at Outpost 3 as the resident dumbass Art Teacher.

[hvlcy0n]

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated. 

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else. 

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair.  it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis. 

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you. 

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes. 

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings. 

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own. 

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that. 

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few  friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right? 

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back. 

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’” 

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee. 

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?” 

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

 “what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now. 

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night. 

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all. 

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

[yeonzzzn]

for astra: park sunghoon

part one of for astra | spotify playlist

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 15.1k

synopsis: sunghoon finds himself waking up and repeating the same day over and over again until he finally breaks the cycle and finds himself on a space station called ‘astra 1’. he soon learns he is one of the few who are still alive and that they aren’t alone…

genre: space!au, survival!au, neurologist!sunghoon, neurologist!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, smut.

warnings: swearing, blood, m*rder, guns go pew pew, other life forms, some science talk, unprotected sex, biting, hair pulling, sunghoon fucks reader against the wall, adding more as the story progresses, MINORS DNI!!! (these tags will be on every part even if they do not consist of said tag)

intro | part one | part two

this is part ONE for the series, please read the INTRO first before this one!!💜

Sunghoon found himself in the Arboretum. Nov directed him here saying he’d be able to find you here since it was your last known location. 

And Sunghoon desperately hoped it was still your location. 

Finding you wasn’t the only thing Sunghoon was hoping for. Nov mentioned a greenhouse filled with veggies and other plants that can help with healing and medicines for in case…ya know, he gets mind controlled or something. 

Apparently, there were worse typhon than just the mimic and phantom he encountered earlier. Heeseung named the phantom as well, apparently. The human-like one. It made Sunghoon wonder what was worse than those two. And he assumed since Nov mentioned mind control, then yeah there’s worse than the two he’s already had to deal with. 

The Arboretum was quiet, beautiful, but quiet. Too quiet for Sunghoon’s liking. But still beautiful. The Arboretum was so green. Despite the darkness of space leaking through the domed windows that surrounded the area and making it dark, the green still shined out that darkness. 

The greenhouse sat on the farthest side of the Arboretum to Sunghoon’s right. To his left was an elevator that looked to take you down to the crew quarters or up towards the bridge. Both of which he planned to explore to find Heeseung after you gained his bracelet's location. 

The wrench swung at his side as he walked and his hands clenched tightly to the shotgun, one finger on the trigger. Nov questioned the wrench before Sunghoon left the office, to which he just responded that he was keeping it. How could he abandon the trusty wrench? 

Sunghoon kept walking to the right, eyes wandering over every piece of plant and cobblestone of the path. He passed by a bench where a dead body lay atop of. The dead looked exactly like the ones he found in the lab. He shuddered, quickly looking away and walking faster. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think how busy this station must have been before the outbreak. How alive it could have been. It’s a shameful thing he had no memory of it or the faces of the dead he knew he would encounter. Anger boiled within him, he caused this. 

Following the cobblestone path eventually led him to the greenhouse. Even from the distance he was at, he could see how green and full of life it was. You had to still be alive if the greenhouse looked this good in shape. 

He lowered the shotgun down to his side and reached for the handle, his gloved hand gripping it and twisting. His senses were immediately filled with the smells of all the vegetables and plants. He took a step in, eyes already looking for you. 

But found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. 

Well, this is a turn of events. 

“Move and I’ll fucking blow your brains out!” his eyes shift from the barrel to a woman. She wore the exact same spacesuit. He looked for the name tag, seeing Dr. YN/LN printed across it. He found you. 

He shifted his eyes back to your face, taking in your every feature and structure of your face. His heart pulled to you, and he didn’t understand why. He assumed it was because you held the very thing he wanted desperately: the location of Heeseung. 

“Dr. LN?” he asked, “You’re Dr. LN?” 

You lowered the barrel to his throat to get a better look at him, and you’ll be damned, “Guess those tests didn’t actually kill you, Dr. Park.”

Sunghoon raised his brow, “Excuse me?” 

You shot the barrel back to his face, remembering exactly that he was put under test after test. Who knew what Typhon still laid dormant within him, “Are you actually Dr. Park Sunghoon? Or are you under mind control and acting normal?” 

He scoffed, “If I was under mind control you think I’d continue to just let you point your damn fucking shotgun to my face?” 

Yep. That’s Sunghoon alright. You couldn’t miss that attitude anywhere. 

Before you could lower your weapon, Sunghoon had pulled it out of your hand and tossed it. His shotgun barrel is now pointing at you, “Are you under mind control?” 

You laughed, “I don’t think a person under the mind control of a telepath typhon would be able to take care of this greenhouse, ya?” 

He lowered the gun, “I need your help.” 

You scoff this time, walking away from him and regaining your weapon, “You just accused me, pointed a gun to my face, and then asked for help?” 

Sunghoon locked his jaw, “You did it to me first, Doctor.” 

“Oh, please!” You whipped back around to him, “I have a right. Mostly after everything,” You could see how his eyes softened, “They completely wiped your memory, didn’t they?” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I don’t remember stepping foot on this station or anything that happened here besides the tests they forced me to take and the fact I was drugged every single day as they stripped my mind over and over.” 

You watched how he tightened his grip on his weapon, you felt bad for him, honestly. To have those things done to you over and over and stuck in a loop. You’d be pissed off too. 

Your eyes met his and all it took was those few seconds for his headache to return, dropping down to his knees and clenching the side of his head, and biting down on his lips to keep from screaming. Blood filled his mouth from the bite on his lips and slowly pooled out the side of his mouth. 

“Sunghoon!” Your voice called to him, but he could barely hear you. 

Don’t black out again. Don’t black out again. Please. 

A flashback came to him then, small glimpses of you. Walking past you in the labs at the company building on Earth. Neither of you ever spoke to each other. The last memory he was given was seeing you hold up the first ever neuromod and your bright smile. 

Then his headache faded. He felt your hand on his back and the other on his knee. Sunghoon slowly dropped his hands and then looked up at you, “You created the neuromods. That was used to add human’s and typhon’s psyche into each other's brains. And the mind transfer.” 

You pull your hands off him and stand back to your feet, “Yeah. I did.”  You could tell that was the only piece of information that was returned to him in whatever kind of attack that was to his brain. Probably the effects of the neuromods he injected into himself finally wearing off. The other scientists obviously didn’t make it any easier on him. Not when they were drugging him on top of removing the neuromods and stripping his memory every single time. 

Sunghoon thought back to the neuromod and the three long prongs that stook out of the tip of it and how the body of it looked in the same shape as a handgun. Did he shove those things into his body over and over again?

“So you had just as much of a play on this happening as I did.” 

You had half a mind to kill him right now, “If you came here to remind me of my part in this, then I suggest you get the fuck out of here. I don’t need this.” 

Sunghoon wiped the blood from his mouth and chin, seeing that it wasn’t its normal crimson, but a shade of black mixed in with it. 

“An effect of the neuromods,” You said, glancing away from him and at the walls of the greenhouse, “It wasn’t as perfect as we had hoped.” 

Apparently not. 

Sunghoon stood back to his feet, getting everything back on track, “I need your help.” 

You scoff again, “What more could you want from me, Sunghoon?” Formal names. You’ve been formal with him on and off. 

“We weren’t strangers to each other, were we?” he asked, “You’ve been acting like you hated me since meeting just now.” 

You placed a hand on your hip and smirked at him, “Something like that,” you looked him up and down. He looks good for someone who was missing for three months without any food or water. You thought he either was dead or became one of the typhon. The human body couldn’t have survived that long unless someone was helping to keep him alive. It couldn’t have been November. Nov was destroyed. But knowing Sunghoon, he probably revived the little guy in secret. You shook your head away from the thoughts, “You said you needed my help?” 

Sunghoon nodded, “I heard you had the list of the tracking bracelets.” 

Your lips parted, “I did. Who told you that information?” Before he could answer, you answered for him, “You sneaky bastard, you did revive November.” 

Sunghoon gave you a confused look, clearly not knowing what you meant. But also wondering what all you knew. He needed to keep you close, “What do you mean did have it?” 

“I took the list and the software used to track them after the first outbreak and hid them in my room down in the crew quarters. But considering that I’ve been hiding out here, it’s proof the crew quarters aren’t safe.” 

The first outbreak? Meaning another one happened. Which is the one that caused so much death on this station. 

“I need that list and software,” was all he said and he didn’t care if the desperation showed on his face. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “What do you need it for?” 

“Heeseung,” he took a shaky breath, “I need to find Heeseung.” 

Ah, Dr. Lee Heeseung. Sunghoon’s best friend. How could you forget the second CEO who used to sign off on your paychecks and was attached to Sunghoon at the hip. 

“Heeseung has been missing for just as long as what you have,” you said, “The chances of him being alive are slim.” 

Sunghoon wasn’t excepting that answer, “Nov said his bracket was off, which means he could still be alive! I need your help to turn the bracelet back on and track where he is.” 

You studied him, this wasn’t the only thing he needed you for, “What else are you planning, Sunghoon?” 

He lifted his head high, “I’m going to find my best friend and any other survivor and get off this station and destroy it in the process.” 

You raised a brow, “You’re going to destroy Astra 1?” you laughed, “You think if that was possible, I would have done it by now? The power plant is the death trap filled with Typhon.” You knew the risks and what it would take to blow up this station. It was one of the safety precautions, after all, to know how to do this. He made sure of that. 

“I don’t care. Once we find Heeseung, the three of us can work together,” He took a few steps closer to you, “Please, YN. We need to survive this and destroy the typhon and everything that happened here.” 

You looked into his brown eyes, the same ones you’ve never been able to say no to, and forced yourself to look away, “Fine. But we’ll need to make a stop before heading straight to the crew quarters.” 

“And that is where exactly?” 

“Psychotronic. The place of the outbreak.” 

Sunghoon swallowed, “What for?” 

You smiled, “Someone stole my card key to get into the crew quarters and I am assuming you don’t have yours?” 

He sighed, already knowing this was a terrible idea. “Onward to Psychotronics.”

Astra 1’s lobby looked as peaceful as it did when Sunghoon first saw it, and the view of space? He still wasn’t over it either. The Arboretum had a good view of space, yes, but it was nothing compared to the lobby. 

Sunghoon followed behind you but stopped short and glanced up the stairs that led to his office, eyes stopping at the trauma center door. Relief washed over him when he saw the lock at the door was still lit up red. But his curiosity took over, legs moving him towards the stairs. 

You turned around in time to see him take the first couple of steps up. Where was he going? You knew his office sat on the top floor, but he did not need to go there. 

“Sunghoon!” you tried to whisper just loud enough for him to hear, but he indeed did not hear. He walked up the steps as if he was entranced. And that worried you. You double-checked the lobby and made a quick sprint to the stairs, praying no Typhon was in the area. 

By the time you caught up to him, he was staring through the small window of the trauma center door. 

What the fuck is he doing?!

Sunghoon locked eyes with the phantom, finding that it was still in its same place crouched in the corner. 

  ₒₕ? yₒᵤ’ᵣₑ ₛₜᵢₗₗ ₕₑᵣₑ?

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, why was he here? He had more important things to do. 

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍?

Gᵤₑₛₛ wₑ ₐᵣₑₙ’ₜ ₛₒ dᵢffₑᵣₑₙₜ, yₒᵤ ₐₙd ᵢ. ₘₐybₑ?

Sunghoon tilted his head, and the phantom mimicked his motion, tilting its head the same way as if it was mirroring him. 

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝.

Its dark purple eyes widened, tilting its head to the other side. 

ₐᵣₑ yₒᵤ ₛₒ ₛᵤᵣₑ?

Sunghoon clenched his hands tight around his weapon. What is this creature on about?

You touched Sunghoon’s shoulder, “What are you doing?” You glanced in the window, your heart racing at seeing the phantom and how its dark eyes shifted to you, “Sunghoon, let’s go!” you tugged at his suit sleeve, “We need to go!” 

ₛₕₑ ₛₜᵢₗₗ wᵢₜₕ yₒᵤ? ₕₐₚₚy?

Sunghoon went to respond, but your unrelenting tug on his clothing took his eyes off the phantom, and looked at you, “Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” He didn’t look back at the creature as he walked past you and down the stairs. 

You followed quickly after him, not wanting to take another glance at the phantom locked in the trauma center. 

The eerie feeling Sunghoon got the moment you both stepped foot in front of the Psychotronic’s door shook him to the core. This is where the outbreak happened. This is where it all started. The lock panel on the side of the door was red. He sighed, another passkey he doesn’t fucking remember. You walked up to the panel, typed the four-number passkey, and hovered your thumb over the unlock button, “The moment I unlock this door, we will have to relock it from the other side. God knows what we are fixing to encounter here. Are you ready?” 

Sunghoon lifted his shotgun up, “I survived my memory being wiped over and over, I can survive whatever the fuck is past these doors.” 

You held back a laugh, knowing damn well he wasn’t ready for what he was fixing to witness. But you pressed the button anyway, watching the door open due to the motion sensor. Sunghoon didn’t hesitate to walk in and you went in after him, quickly relocking the door behind you. 

Sunghoon couldn’t place his finger on it, but something about this small office didn’t feel right. There was another door with “PSYCHOTRONICS” printed in red across it. It was a full glass door, and it looked even more eerie than the feeling Sunghoon couldn’t shake off him. 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he whispered, wandering his eyes to every inch of the room. 

You also clench your shotgun tighter, finger resting on the trigger. Something indeed did not feel right here. And you knew it wasn’t just because of what haunts psychotronics as a whole. 

Out of the corner of Sunghoon’s eye, a paperweight sitting on the desk in the corner fell to the floor as if it was pushed off. Mimic? No. Couldn’t be. He didn’t feel this unease in the presence of a mimic. Neither did he with a phantom. This was something else completely. 

The paper weight then shot across the room and the air grew thick. 

Gₑₜ ₒᵤₜ!

Both your and Sunghoon’s suits automatically flipped the helmets over your head just at the right moment of the both of you being lifted off the floor. 

“A poltergeist!” you screamed, gripping a hold of the bookshelf off to your left.

“A fucking what?!��� Sunghoon snapped, wiggling himself in the air to try and steady himself, “Where the fuck is it!?” 

Your fingers started slipping from the bookshelf, dropping your shotgun and watching as it hit the floor in the same movement of gripping your other hand to the shelves and retightening your other hand, “It’s another Typhon! Its abilities are the exact same as a poltergeist ghost, you’ll need to find it!” 

Easier said than done, YN. 

At this point, Sunghoon’s back touched the ceiling. The poltergeist pressed him so hard he felt like he could barely breathe. Other smaller objects started to float in the room, making it harder to locate exactly where the damned thing was. 

Until Sunghoon caught movement by the door leading to the inner depths of psychotronics. The movement was quick, but not quick enough for him to get the location of the thing. He struggled against the force of its ability, but nevertheless, he lifted the shotgun up, closing one eye to help aim. The world seemed to have slowed at that moment of locking onto the poltergeist. Its body flickered slightly, “There you are.” 

One shot. One bullet piercing through the middle of its body was all it took for its invisibility to falter along with its lifting ability, dropping everything in the room, including you and Sunghoon. 

You pushed yourself forward to land on your back, knowing damn well the amount of pain you’d be in. Sunghoon on the other hand, was able to tuck and roll the minute he touched the ground. The minute he rolled back onto his feet he was rushing the geist, its deformed—and rather now angry—body rushed him too. It slowly flickers itself back to being invisible. But Sunghoon wasn’t going to let that happen, at least not fully. He dropped himself back to the floor the moment he sensed the geist was inches away and slid across the floor, aiming the barrel directly at the geist. 

One shot. Two shots. Three. The first hitting its middle, the second at its neck, and the last in the head. Its black blood coating his helmet and suit. The geist let out an agonizing screech and dropped its dead weight on top of Sunghoon, who quickly pushed the damned thing off him. 

Once he was back to his feet, he took a couple of deep breaths in and rested his hands on his hips, “What the fuck is a poltergeist Typhon?!” 

You slowly picked yourself off up from the floor, stretching your back out and praying nothing was broken, which nothing seemed to be, “It’s exactly what I said,” you walked over to his side, staring down at the creature, “Poltergeists are exactly like phantoms but not successfully created, which is why they look deformed and have different abilities than phantoms.” 

Sunghoon scoffs, the cool air now hitting his face as the helmet automatically retracted itself, smearing the black blood from the helmet now onto the back of his suit, “Poltergeist,” he mumbles, “Did Heeseung name that damn thing too?” 

Your helmet also retracted back, giving you access to fully look back at him, and you just smile, “You did, actually.” 

He raised his brows and let out a whistle of disprovement. He named this thing? And that was the best he could come up with? His thoughts stopped at the realization of the question he just asked you, as if he’d known you for longer than the short couple of hours. 

Sunghoon stared back at you, scanning his eyes over your features, trying to look into your mind somehow. To see what it is you know and to figure out why it is that he wanted to pull you towards him. 

“Let’s go, we need to get that card key.” You said, breaking eye contact and walking past him, and pushing the door open. Sunghoon slowly walked behind you, staring at the way your hair falls behind you, and how your hips sway. The way you carry yourself. His heart kept pulling and pulling towards you.

It confused him as to why. He just met you. The two of you were obviously complete opposites. Both your attitudes retract each other. So why? Why does he feel the need to pull you into his arms? Why does he want you in his arms? Why did he want to do all the things that kept rushing his brain with and for and to you? 

Sunghoon’s mind drifted away from the thoughts of you as the two of you approached the psychotronics lab. His eyes widened at what he was seeing in front of him. Not just what he was seeing, but what he was hearing. 

ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ. ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ. ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ. ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ. ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ. ₗₑₜ ᵤₛ ₒᵤₜ.

He cupped his hands over his ears and grinded his teeth. There were rows upon rows of phantoms locked inside small chambers no bigger than the size that they were. 

You glanced back at him, seeing as he hunched over slightly, eyes wide and looking down at the floor. You walked back over to him and hooked your hand on his bicep, pulling him to walk forward. You weren’t sure what it was that was causing this, all you could guess was it was the effects of the neuromods. 

The minute you pulled him away from the phantom's chambers, he lifted himself back up and let out a pained exhale, “Why are they in there?” 

You tilt your head, clearly questioning why he cared, “They were the test subjects for the human psyche trials. They are the ones that weren’t so lucky to escape doing the outbreak. Some are ones that were caught and put back in there.” 

Sunghoon looked behind him, looking at each chamber, “There are no humans in there, right?” You tucked your lip between your teeth, his head whipping to you in your silence, “YN, answer me.” 

You look in the direction that you both need to go, “Just follow me.” 

So he did. Followed you to the very end of the ward and the fear Sunghoon just had became true. There were cells filled with people, some were dead, but most were alive. Their eyes burned with hatred as you both walked past their cells, “YN.” 

“They are prisoners, criminals given to us to use.” You hated every word of that sentence and could feel the piercing eyes of not just the ones trapped, but also Sunghoon’s, “They were the humans who underwent the first trials of gaining the Typhon psyche. They are the reason you went through the tests next after it was deemed successful. But when the neuromods were stripped from them, their memories stayed.” 

So they know exactly who I am and what I did to them here. 

Sunghoon looked each of them back in the eyes, telling them through his apologetic eyes how deeply terrible he felt for what he had done. Even if he didn’t remember any of it. 

He kept following you to the last cell that sat in the very back of the wall in the middle. The man who resided in was alone, his blonde hair slowly drifted into his eyes as he tilted his head to his left, a smirk growing wide across his face. 

“Well look who the fuck it is!” he clapped his hands, “Never thought I’d see your two faces ever again!” his smirk turned into a frown, “Especially yours, Park Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon frowned back at him, but not out of sadness, but from the pure anger he felt towards this man. He didn’t understand why. 

The blonde lifted his head up, staring down at the two of you, “What could either of you possibly want?” Sunghoon looked at you and then laughter filled the room, “Now that’s a sight to see!” the blonde chuckled, “Dr. Park is actually quiet for once!” 

Sunghoon whipped his head back towards the male, “Why the fuck are you in this cell?” 

The male tilted his head again, “You don’t remember?” he chuckled again at Sunghoon’s silence, “Fuck, they wiped your memory?” 

You sigh, “This is Jay Park, trialed for several third-degree murders on and off Astra 1.”

The blonde smirked, stretching his arms at his sides and taking a bow, “At your service.” 

You continued, “He killed multiple doctors, nurses, scientists, and other normal everyday workers here just for sport.” 

𝙲𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at Jay, the blonde mimicking the expression. 

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

Sunghoon barely nodded, only giving a tilt of his head enough to show Jay he could, in fact, hear him. 

Jay smirked and glanced back toward you, “I am going to assume you didn’t come here for a history lesson, YN. So get to the point.” 

𝚆𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚢𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝚃𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

Jay looked back at Sunghoon, “And why on Earth would I just hand over that keycard?” he reached into his back pocket and pulled the card out, your name and face printed over the front of it, “And what would I gain giving it back to you anyway?” 

You didn’t understand how Jay knew you wanted the card, but before you could answer, Sunghoon did it for you. 

“I am going to blow this motherfucking station to kingdom come,” he said without missing a beat, “So if you want to survive,” he tilted his head down, staring up directly at Jay, “I suggest you give us the keycard and we’ll give you your freedom and escape back to Earth.” 

Jay tucked his tongue into the side of his cheek, glancing back and forth between you and Sunghoon, clearly weighing out his options, “Is that all you’d need from me?” Jay questioned, “I have a baby sister back home, I can’t risk some bullshit that’ll end with my death. That stinkhead needs me.” 

𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎.

“Fucking watch it!” Jay snapped, snarling his teeth at Sunghoon and gripping his hands to the cool bars in front of him, “Guarantee my safety and I’ll help out in whatever you need.”

It was your turn to look at Sunghoon, trying to read whatever it was he could be possibly thinking. 

“I promise you’ll return back safely to your little sister,” Sunghoon stood up a bit straighter, “You will also release the rest of these people and lead them to the escape pods, but you won’t be allowed to leave until I say so,” Sunghoon made quick work to glance at Jay’s wrists, seeing a tracking bracket attached and snapping his eyes back to his face, “We can track your location, so the minute you step foot off this station,” Sunghoon walked up to the bars, grasping the wrench at his belt and releasing it, swinging with all his might and hitting the two metals together, the ringing of them echoing throughout the lab. 

 ₘₐₖₑ ᵢₜ ₛₜₒₚ. ₘₐₖₑ ᵢₜ ₛₜₒₚ. ₘₐₖₑ ᵢₜ ₛₜₒₚ.

The Typhon’s cries were so loud it not only affected Sunghoon, but also Jay. Both males wincing at their screams against their minds.  

Once the cries settled after the ringing stopped, with a few pants, Jay nodded, “Fine. I’ll help,” Jay tossed the keycard between the bars and on the floor, you rushed to pick it up, “Now let me out.”

Sunghoon had a bad feeling about letting Jay take control of the other prisoners and lead them to the escape pods, but he didn’t have any other option. Sunghoon also couldn’t shake away the fact Jay seemed to also be able to hear and communicate via the mind. Did they both go through similar tests? Had to have. 

All Sunghoon could currently hope for was for Jay to lead the others to the pods safely. 

The crew quarters were smooth sailing, or so you hoped. It was quiet and not a soul in sight. All the lights were still on and not a sigh of them even being tampered with. It definitely felt off, but you also weren’t going to complain. That still didn’t stop you and Sunghoon from treading lightly and not speaking a word with both shotguns locked and ready for use just in case. 

Yeah, the whole station gave Sunghoon an eerie feeling, but specifically the crew quarters did. Something was strange about this place. Something so unsettling. He wanted to get to your room, get whatever shit it was you needed to track down Heeseung’s bracelet, and get the fuck out. 

What made Sunghoon feel so unsettled was probably the lack of bodies, which you would think would be a good thing. But with the Typhon on the station and their abilities…

The entire area was filled with gold columns, silvery wallpaper for the walls, and a crimson carpet for the flooring. Each step was muffled by the carpet, which made the trek to your room easier. Sunghoon didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until the two of you stepped foot into your room and the door was closed and locked. 

Sunghoon let out a breath and steadied himself against the wall, watching you kneel down to the floor by your bed and pull out a laptop. Sunghoon raised his brow, “You hid everything in a laptop?” 

You rolled your eyes, typical of Sunghoon to judge something like this, “Would you rather I have just laid all the software and drivers in the open for everyone to see?” You quickly stood from the floor and tossed the laptop onto your desk and walked to the other side of the small room and to a picture frame you had on the wall, “I put everything onto this laptop, copied it into a neuromod and destroyed the rest.” You twisted the picture frame up, revealing a panel. You pressed in the code and the small door swung open, revealing the neuromod. 

Now Sunghoon was even more confused, “Why did you transfer the data into a fucking neuromod?” You glared at him as you took the neuromod and closed the safe, letting the picture frame swing back over and covering it. Sunghoon’s curiosity got the best of him, eyes scanning every inch of the photo: it was you with another male, another neurologist, he assumed. You and the male were in lab coats, holding up two of the neuromod guns with massive smiles on your faces. You noticed his eyes were on the photo and followed his gaze to it, thinning your lips to a line and softening your eyes, “He looks like a puppy.” 

You let out a breathy laugh and forced yourself to look away from it and take a seat at your desk, “He was known for being Astra 1’s puppy for a reason.” 

No matter how hard Sunghoon tried to put the male's face through his memory, nothing came up. He silently cursed to himself and decided he wasn’t going to rack his brain trying to remember. It only made him feel more like shit anyway. 

So he stood behind you at your desk, placing his hands onto the back of your chair and leaning forward, being nearly inches away from his chest touching your back, “You going to tell me why you’re using a neuromod to store data that isn’t a living things psyche?”

You held up the neurogun, pressing the trigger and watching the three prongs shoot from the barrel and loving the way Sunghoon flinched from the corner of your eye. He may not remember how painful those things had to have felt being injected into his body and he sure as hell doesn’t want to remember it. 

“It was the closest thing to a hard drive to put the data on that wouldn’t draw suspicions, obviously.” 

The fuck did this woman get her attitude from?

Sunghoon sighed, “You do remember I’ve had my memory wiped over and over again, right? I don’t know what it is I’ve done to piss you off, but I apologize, okay?” 

You swallowed and kept your eyes locked onto the laptop as it booted up, “Everyone thought you were dead.” 

Especially me. 

And that’s all you left it at and Sunghoon didn’t press it further, digging his nails into the cushion of your chair, “It was a smart idea, transferring the data into a mod.” 

You formed a small smile, “I know. I created the mods, to begin with, I know what they can do.” 

Sunghoon chuckled and rolled his eyes, his heart once again pulling to you and he unknowingly shifted forward, his chest barely grazing your back. You pulled up the bracelet tracking software and then inserted the prongs into the side of the laptop where the custom holes you created for it. It took a few seconds for it to process open and once it did, the entire list of staff and prisoners rolled up. 

His heart nearly stopped and his lips parted at the first two names on the list. 

𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠 1 𝖤𝖬𝖯𝖫𝖮𝖸𝖤𝖤 𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖢𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳 # 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭: 𝖢𝖤𝖮: 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭: #20021208 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖲/𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭: 𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶𝖭.  𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦: #20011015 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖲/𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭: 𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶𝖭. 

Sunghoon’s mouth went dry as he stared at Heeseung’s unknown location, hands trembling against your chair, “You can turn his bracelet on, right?” 

You slowly nodded, “Yes,” you turned your face to look at him, seeing how he bit down on his lower lip with a look of desperation on his face. That look…that scared and worried and frustrated look was the same one you had when Sunghoon went missing. To this day you never figured out what happened to his bracelet or where the location of it even is. Nothing worked to turn it back on, meaning it was completely destroyed. It was the whole reason you thought he was dead to begin with, “But I need you to prepare yourself just in case it doesn’t turn on.” 

Sunghoon didn’t want to have to prepare himself, didn’t want to even put the thought in his head that his best friend could be long gone, “Please, YN, just…just check.” 

You faced back to the laptop and moved the cursor to hover over Heeseung’s tracking number then worked your magic into hacking the software on his bracelet and bypassing the mainframes. You bite down on your tongue, praying once you access the inner parts of it…then…

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦: #20011015 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖲/𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭: 𝖮𝖭𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖤: 𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖶 𝖰𝖴𝖠𝖱𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖲 𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖪𝖤𝖱 𝖱𝖮𝖮𝖬. 

The gasp of relief escaped his mouth as he flung his head down and to the side, resting his forehead against your temple, “You found him.” 

You stiffened, opening your mouth to speak but shutting it closed. You couldn’t bring yourself to bring his hopes down that there was still a possibility that…

So you gently shoved him away and stood up, “Let’s go check out the locker room and see what we find.”’

Sunghoon could see it written on your face on what you’re thinking, but he still had that hope regardless. His best friend could be alive. So he hoisted his shotgun up and followed you out of the room. 

Leading the way to the locker room was a short trip across the crew quarters, passing a set of stairs off to your left. Sunghoon’s footsteps fell quietly behind you, turning around to see him staring up at the stairs and to the doors. 

“Sunghoon?” you whispered to him. He slowly just looks back at you. How can he tell you something is drawing him up those stairs? Beckoning him? He chose to fall right back into step behind you. He needs to find Heeseung first. 

The main door to the locker rooms split off into the women’s going to the right, and men’s towards the left. You point your finger to the left, telling him that is the direction of Heeseung’s bracelet. With a deep breath, Sunghoon stepped through the door frame, shotgun pointing forward as he carefully walked in. 

The locker room was dark with one singular light flickering in the middle. A small droplet of water dripped down from a broken sink, echoing the room along with a sound of…heavy breathing?

Sunghoon’s heart pounded, walking faster past each row of lockers until reaching the end, seeing another person hunched over on the floor, their hands tangled into their hair on the back of the head. Mumbles escaped their lips as their entire body shuddered. 

“Heeseung?” Sunghoon whispered, lowering his weapon and reaching a hand out toward the male, “Hee?” 

Before Sunghoon could even touch the man, he quickly whipped around eyes wide and tears streaming down his face, “H-help me,” he mumbled. Sunghoon immediately recognized the male. Astra 1’s puppy. 

“Jake!” you whispered, trying to rush to your best friend but Sunghoon stopped you. His arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you back, “Let go!” you quickly snapped. 

“Something ain’t right!” he snapped back, lifting the shotgun and keeping it pointed at Jake, “Look at him!”’

So you did, seeing the way Jake’s body twisted and twitched. How his eyes were red and pupils were blown. 

“YN,” Jake cried, his aura changing as he stood up, his fingers gripping to the bench in front of him as if to stop him from fully standing, “Get out of here,” he begged, pleading with you both with his eyes, “Now.”’

Your fingers gripped into Sunghoon’s suit, “Jake…”’

“He’s under mind control,” Sunghoon glanced away from Jake and to the floor, “A telepath is around here.” 

As if it was beckoning him, Sunghoon glanced back up at Jake and to his wrists, seeing two tracking brackets. One look was all it took for Sunghoon to realize one of them belonged to his best friend. 

“Why do you have Heeseung’s bracelet?!” Sunghoon snapped and all Jake replied with was a hushed breath, begging once again for them to leave. 

“It knows you’re here,” Jake cried, still trying to fight the mind control, “You need to—“ and then his body stopped twitching, arms falling to his sides and head falling forward just to slowly lift a bit, eyes beating up at the two of you, the corner of his lip twitched and one more tear fell down his face, “Kill me. Please.”’

Not a second passed after those words and Jake was rushing forward. Sunghoon quickly flung you behind him, both hands gripping the shotgun, “Jake!!” he shouted, rushing backward as quickly as he could to stay out of the male's grasp. Who knew what would happen if he got ahold of either of you, mostly with a telepath somewhere in hiding. 

“KILL ME!” Jake was screaming now, his movements getting faster but his eyes stayed begging. Sunghoon couldn’t do it. How could he end another human's life? He clearly worked alongside this man before his memory was wiped. He couldn’t do it, “Dr. Park! Please!” 

I can’t do this. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. 

But you could. 

The realization hit you all too late that: 

You left your shotgun back in your room. 

Jake was going to die anyway. 

The Telepath wasn’t going to allow Jake to live much longer, and by how red his eyes were…Jake was already crossing that thin line between life and death. 

So with tears in your eyes, you snatched Sunghoon’s weapon, pointed it directly at your best friend, and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jakey,” and you pulled the trigger. You could have sworn you saw a glint sparkling in those red eyes as his body went limp and fell to the floor, his blood pooling around him. 

Sunghoon immediately twisted you around and pressed your body against his, shielding you away from what you just had done, wrapping his arms so tightly against your frame. But it was too late. The image of the hole you just put between the eyes of your best friend’s head was stapled to your brain. 

Jake was dead. You murdered him. 

Your body shook as the tears kept flooding out. Sunghoon’s grip on you becomes tighter and one hand connects to the back of your head, “YN…” It was all he could say. Nothing but your name leaving his lips. No words would make this right or what you did to fade off into existence. 

You pulled yourself away from Sunghoon, staring deeply into his eyes, seeing the same hurt staring back at you. Seeing how he also was accepting the painful truth: His best friend more than likely is also dead. 

A scream then erupted deep within the locker room. Multiple sounds of footsteps echoing and rushing. 

Your eyes widened, “The telepath is sending everyone it has control over to us!” 

You needed to get out of here and fast. Without so much as another thought, Sunghoon’s hand was wrapped in yours and leading you out of the locker room. You both were barely out and back into the brightness of the crew quarters just to be met with multiple humans under the control rushing towards you from almost every direction. 

Those stairs. 

Sunghoon kept his grip on your hand tight and ran, “We need to get to those stairs!” You knew where those stairs led and knew the safety they held. Rushing Sunghoon to run faster. 

He took two steps at a time, eyes locking onto the first door he saw, barely catching the nameplate. 

DR. LEE HEESEUNG. 

The screams and shouts from the mind control humans were gaining on them, Sunghoon fumbling with the door and noticing…”IT’S FUCKING LOCKED!!” 

You quickly reached around him, typed the code in, and shoved the door open, “FUCKING MOVE!!” you yelled, shoving him inside and relocking the door behind you.

You both sat on opposite walls of each other, heads resting on the wall and lips between your teeth to keep any sound from escaping. The sounds of the mind-controlled more than likely drew in every type of Typhon in the area or nearby in this direction. And now it was a waiting game. 

How much time has passed? Thirty minutes? An hour? Sunghoon couldn’t be so sure. And it wasn’t until the echoing of the mind-controlled started to fade that either of you felt brave enough to move. You unlocked the door and barely slid it open, peeking your head out just enough to see not a soul walking the area. Nor human or Typhon. You quickly closed the door and relocked it, slowly turning to Sunghoon. 

He stood by the nightstand table, a photo frame of himself and Heeseung as children sat atop it. You wanted to speak but didn’t have a clue what to say. He just found out his best friend is more than likely dead. What words could be said at this moment? 

“Do you have any idea as to why Jake had Heeseung’s bracelet?” 

His words cut like ice and you had to remind yourself he was hurting, “No, I didn’t,” you swallowed and stood a few steps towards him, “I didn’t even know Jake was still alive.” 

Which was true. After the second outbreak, every employee and crew mate kind of just…went where they could. You’ve tried tracking down Jake’s bracelet too, it showed movement for a couple of days until it eventually stopped. You assumed he was dead, and left the safety of your room knowing damn well the moment you left the crew quarters you’d not be able to return without your lost key. 

Sunghoon slowly set the photo frame face down and let out a painful exhale. It broke you seeing him like this, “Sunghoon…” You walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, and rested your head against his back, “I am so sorry.” 

He tilted his head up and quickly blinked away the tears that were forming. Heeseung was gone. He lost his best friend. Your sniffles brought Sunghoon back to reality and quickly twisted himself around to hold you to him, “Hey,” he whispered, pressing your face to his shoulder, “It’s okay,” he knew it wasn’t okay, that it wouldn’t ever be. Not after what you had to do. 

You pushed yourself from him and rubbed your eyes with the back of your gloved hands, “Let’s just search this room while we are here. Maybe you can find clues or something.” You weren’t sure what exactly you’d find here, but all you could hope for was Sunghoon finding some sort of peace. 

So you both got to looking, finding pretty much nothing outside the ordinary. A bunch of neurology books and records of patients are on the bookshelves. Any photo on the wall didn’t have any hidden compartment like yours did. Nothing under the bed or table. The last place to look was his desk. 

Sunghoon sat down at the desk, staring at the login screen on the monitor. His fingers hovered over the keyboard and his lips trembled. It angered him how he couldn’t for the life of him remember what Heeseung could possibly use as his password. 

You noticed this, reaching over his shoulders and typing in the password, and hitting enter. Sunghoon quickly wiped his head to you, “How do you know Heeseung’s password? You knew the one for the door too.”’

You didn’t know how to answer this but went with, “It’s kind of important to know all the passkeys around here,” you looked away from him and towards the monitor, “Mostly after the outbreak and over half the crew is either dead or missing.” 

“How, YN.” 

How could you tell him? 

Sunghoon shook his head and turned back to the monitor, deciding to dismiss the conversation and search through Heeseung’s computer. He was thankful for you and for you knowing every password. He might finally get more answers about Heeseung. 

And thank whatever god was listening that Sunghoon seemed to know how to navigate this computer, being it’s the same exact software back at the company building on Earth. 

There too, was nothing out of the ordinary on the computer so far. Just records of patients and some notes on neuromods and the prisoners and Typhon. Nothing that stood out. Until Sunghoon came across a folder that was clearly out of place, “What the fuck…” he mumbles, clicking the folder and a bunch of videos popping up. 

“He made video vlogs?” you question, leaning further over Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Was he the type to make vlogs?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “I’ve never seen him make one.” 

You looked at the dates on the videos, seeing they started back on the opening day of the station, “Scroll to the bottom,” Sunghoon listened and stopped at the bottom. Your lips parted at the dates of the last three videos, “Those are the dates of before you went missing and a month after.” 

That’s all it took for Sunghoon to click the first video. 

The video started with Heeseung adjusting the camera with a goofy look of concentration on his face, Sunghoon couldn’t help but chuckle. “So,” he started, sitting back in his chair, “Sunghoon had another outburst today,” Heeseung rubbed his hands against his eyes, Sunghoon took notice of the bracelet on his wrist, his tracking bracelet, “I tried to convince them to shut the trials down. That we needed more time to research this. But those damn scientists act like they know MORE than me as if I didn’t slave my life away to get my degree,” he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap, eyes wandering to the door, “They won’t let me see Sunghoon. Completely closed off the area to the labs and denied my key access to getting in.” Heeseung locked his jaw and looked back into the camera, “As if I’m not their BOSS and sign their fucking paychecks every two weeks. Fuck’em!” There was a knock at his door and he stood from the chair, the sounds of a door opening and closing echoed, and then Heeseung dropped himself back into the chair with Jake appearing behind him. 

Your heart nearly stopped, what was Jake doing there?

Jake raised his brows at the camera, “Bro, you vlog?” Heeseung slapped Jake’s chest, both of them smiling wide, “Fuck off! It’s just a way to keep records and to talk.” Jake chuckled, “You know we have a therapist on the station right?” The two males ruffled around, “Anyway!” Heeseung said with one last shove of Jake, “Did you bring what I asked?” Jake frowned, “Yes, but I don’t think this is a good idea.” Heeseung stared at the camera, “Lemme see it.” Jake sighed and moved off to the side of the desk and then came back into the frame. Both your and Sunghoon’s hearts dropped. A neuromod was in Jake’s hand. 

Sunghoon quickly looked at you, seeing the same shock he had written all over your face, “Jakey,” you whispered, “What did you do.” 

Heeseung took the neuromod from Jake and examined it in his hands, “Thank you. And it has exactly what I asked for?” Jake nodded, biting at the skin on his lips, “Hee, maybe we need to rethink this. You’ve seen what these things have done to Sunghoon.” Heeseung didn’t take his eyes off the mod, clicking the trigger and watching the pongs push out, “We won’t get the results we want if Sunghoon is the only one sacrificing himself every single day!” he looked up at Jake, “I have a theory, and if this works we can recover the memories those asshats keep stripping from Sunghoon. It’s probably why he keeps having outbursts.” Jake’s eyes glanced at the camera, “And what does YN think about this?” 

Your body went cold at your name being mentioned and you didn’t miss how Sunghoon’s hand on the mouse twitched at your name being said too. 

Heeseung swallowed and looked down at his lap, “She doesn’t know. And we won’t tell her.” Jake shook his head, “You can’t keep this from her!” Jake slapped his fist into the desk, the aggression not affecting Heeseung one bit, “She has a right! Mostly if it affects Sunghoon!” Heeseung lifted his eyes up to the camera, “We aren’t telling her, and that’s final.” Jake looked to the other side of the room, “Fine. But if shit goes south I WILL tell her.” Heeseung nodded, “I have another request of you before you leave,” Jake tilted his head, clearly waiting for his instructions, “I’m going to disable my bracelet. I need you to dispose of it.” By the look on Jake’s face, he disagreed, “Heeseung—“ Heeseung didn’t wait for Jake to finish, “I need to be able to walk freely without them on my fucking ass. Please.” Jake nodded but clearly didn’t like it. The males worked together to get the bracelet off and disable it from the other side. Once it was finished, Jake shoved the bracelet into his pocket, “I need to go, they are fixing to prepare a phantom for a trial, I need to be there.” Heeseung nodded, and without another word, Jake left. Heeseung pulled himself closer to the desk, “I’m praying this works, and if it does…” He swallowed, “I can save my best friend and shut this shit down.” Heeseung lifted the neuromod up, facing the pongs towards his right eye, “Here goes nothing.” 

You barely were able to look away in time of Heeseung shoving the pongs into his eye socket. But Sunghoon kept his eyes glued to the screen, watching his friend torture himself and letting out screams of pain as a small stream of blood ran from the socket. Listening to the video was bad enough, you could only imagine what Sunghoon was currently thinking. 

Heeseung yanked the pongs from his eye and closed it tightly and reaching for a towel that sat at the corner of his bed and pressed it to his eye, “Fuck that hurts!” he said through gritted teeth, “How the fuck does Sunghoon do this?” Heeseung then opened his drawer to the desk and tossed the neuromod inside, slamming it shut. 

Sunghoon was quick to reach his hand over to the handle of the drawer and fling it open. His heart dropped at what he found: multiple neuromods with their pongs out sitting in the drawer. Sunghoon counted over twelve. 

Heeseung…what the fuck did you do?!

Heeseung stared into the camera, reaching his free hand up and grasping it, “Godspeed.” Then the screen went black. 

Sunghoon quickly exited out of the video and clicked the second one. 

Heeseung once again was sitting at the desk, his favorite black Prada tee shirt was stained, and Sunghoon assumed it was stained with blood. Heeseung lifted his eyes up to the camera, his right eye slightly red, “I’ve used about…six? Yeah six neuromods so far,” he leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, “This phantom's psyche that I have consistently shoved into my eye socket…it’s a smart one. I can hear its voice. It showed me its past memories,” Heeseung leaned back into the chair and lifted up his right arm, “It has even granted me its gifts,” Then his arm shifted, turning from a normal human arm into one of a phantom’s, turning the color of the shiny black and twisting and pulsating. Heeseung was unfazed as he looked down at his arm and then returned it back to normal. “The phantom has even accessed parts of my memory that I have forgotten. This will work, or would have worked,” He dropped his arm into his lap, “There’s been an outbreak, two actually. The first was contained, the second…” He swallowed, “I need to get to Sunghoon. Fast. The scientists abandoned him down in the labs but the Typhon got to them before they could escape, trapping them inside.” Heeseung licked at the side of his lips, “Before the first outbreak, Sunghoon left a video message for himself and I helped him set everything up…it…it was the last time I was allowed to see him before the final trial they put him through. I need to get to Nov and see if we can’t hack into the doors and get them open so I can get Hoon out. The only problem is the Typhon running around. I’ll have to sneak around.” Heeseung pushed himself away from the desk and grabbed a briefcase, “Jake, if you see this video at any point, I am sorry. I stole more neuromods without you knowing,” he set down the briefcase, “YN, if you see this, I apologize for failing and breaking our promise of keeping Sunghoon safe. I don't know where you are on this station, but I pray to whatever god is listening that you use all the passkeys I’ve given you to get off this damned ship and take Jake with you.” 

You clenched your gloved hands onto the part of your suit at your pant leg, eyes glancing down at Sunghoon, “He gave you all the passwords?” Sunghoon felt more confused than he did before. 

“Also, YN, I’m the one who stole your keycard, they disabled mine again after you helped me re-enable it. So I took it to use and blamed Jay for it, it just happened to be a silly act of fate that he ended up taking it from me before being put back behind bars.” You bit at your lip and looked away from the screen, “Lastly Sunghoon, I am so sorry man, for letting you go through these trials. For not trying hard enough to stop them. I know I said all this when I saw you last, but I am truly so fucking sorry.” Tears fell down his best friend's face but quickly brushed them off, “I will get you out of that lab. I need to get to your office and reboot Nov.” The video ended there. 

Sunghoon didn’t miss a beat when clicking the last video. Heeseung was now in the trauma center, his right eye bloodshot red and his dark hair dripping with sweat, “I failed,” were the first words he said, his red space suit he was now wearing was torn, his nametag barely legible, “The Typhon…the phantom…in my brain…it’s taking control.” Heeseung dropped his head into his palms, “I tried to control it, thinking if I stayed in control and reminded it whose body it’s in that it would listen but…” Heeseung dropped his hands, parts of his face spotting the Typhon’s skin, his left eye completely turning from its brown to dark purple, “I can’t control it. We made a mistake using these creatures.” Heeseung glances at the door, “I hacked into a turret and used the last neuromod I had to give it the phantom’s DNA…MY DNA…” He swallows, “The phantom will take over my mind and body. I can’t take any chances.” Tears fell down Heeseung’s face and this time he didn’t stop them, “Sunghoon…I’m sorry. If you wake up…I sent Nov to leave notes that you wrote for yourself and had him drop them off around the station. I reprogrammed his system to only tell you the important details then erased his memory of seeing me. It’s what is for the best…mostly since…I won’t exist much longer.” 

Sunghoon’s hands were trembling…the phantom in the trauma center… it was Heeseung. That’s why Sunghoon felt so compelled to go there. The trials Sunghoon underwent were the Typhon’s psyche being placed and removed over and over again, it all made sense why he was able to hear the Typhon speak to him. Why he could hear Jay. Sunghoon still had a bit of their psyche left in his brain. 

“I will send this vlog to my computer and pray you find it, Sunghoon. I love you man…so much, thank you for growing up with me. For being my best friend and brother. See you on the other side.” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “No…” Heeseung’s features slowly started to shift and then the video ended. His best friend was gone. Forever. 

Sunghoon slowly stood from the chair and pulled you into his arms. His whole body was shaking, “We need to get off this station.” 

You nodded into his shoulder, “We need to survive, for Jake and Heeseung.” 

Once Sunghoon stopped shaking, you convinced him to go to the escape pods and make sure the other survivors got on and left so you both could go to the power plant and shut this station once and for all. For Jake. For Heeseung. And for all the innocent people who lost their lives working on this damned station. 

He followed you out of Heeseung’s room, watching carefully as you started to walk away, but stopped and turned to him, “What’s wrong?” 

Sunghoon turned and looked at the door beside Heeseung’s, DR. PARK SUNGHOON was written on the door plate, “I want to see what’s in my room.” Sunghoon obviously had more questions and more curiosity about the memories that were taken from him. Maybe he left vlogs like Heeseung did. Maybe there are records of all that happened to him. Literally anything. 

“Sunghoon—“

“YN, please.” 

You slowly walked past him and stopped in front of the door, fingers trembling as you typed his passcode into the panel, the click of the door stopping your heart. You stepped to the side, letting Sunghoon be the one to walk inside first. 

With a deep breath, Sunghoon pushed the door open and walked in, you following behind and closing the door behind you, resting your body against the door. The first thing he noticed was the workbench in the corner, pieces of what seemed to be the same material that Nov was made out of, along with a broken neuromod. This is where he created Nov. He walked to the middle of the room and looked at his bed and then the nightstand, seeing a photo frame sitting there. He furrowed his brows as he picked it up. Sunghoon stood in the middle of the photo, Heeseung was to his right, you to his left along with Jake at your left. Each of you was holding up a red solo cup and the background looked like what seemed to be a bar area on the station, “We were all friends, weren’t we?” You stayed silent, watching him with saddened eyes. Sunghoon noticed how close you were standing next to him, how his arm was wrapped around you, and the way you leaned into him. 

He set the photo down and looked at his computer desk, more photos sat by the monitors and even hung on the walls above them. Sunghoon slowly walked over, his heart pounding at the images. There were some of him and Heeseung. A few of him and Jake. But most of them consisted of you. You and him. Sunghoon traced his eyes over each photo, seeing all the memories he lost. Each photo of you and him held so much…love. The way he kissed your cheek in one photo. The way he held you to his chest in his bed in the other. The way you held your hands in his. One of the two of you in your lab coats and doing a silly pose. And then the last one…was just of your hands…matching rings placed on both your middle fingers. 

Sunghoon placed his fingers over his gloved hand, feeling the metal still there. He looked over to you, “We were together, weren’t we?” 

You mimicked his motion, and felt for the matching ring that sat on your middle finger, “We were, yes,” you blinked away the tears that formed and weakly smiled, “You told me you wanted to marry me the minute we landed back on Earth,” you looked down at your gloved hand, “So you made these matching rings as a promise that you’d switch it over to the right finger once our feet touched the ground.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sunghoon took a step towards you, afraid he’d overstep if he got too close. 

You met his eyes, “I thought you were dead. How could I tell the person I love that we were in a relationship without confusing him further after finding out all you have in this short time?” you broke eye contact again, looking to the floor, “It took everything in me to not rush to you when you appeared down in the greenhouse. I had to remind myself what was done to you. I wanted…” 

Sunghoon rushed to you, cupping your face between his hands and forcing you to look up at him, “I’ve felt this pull towards you since I laid my eyes on you,” tears now swelled in his eyes, “And I fucking hate myself for forgetting someone so important to me.” 

Sunghoon couldn’t explain it, but he knew he loved you. Even with all the memories stripped from him. He could feel the love you had for him radiating and knew that same amount of love resided within him too. 

Tears filled your eyes now too as you stared deeply into his, “Shhh,” he whispered, wiping his thumb against your eye, “I am right here, baby.” 

“I thought you were dead,” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling now, “I thought I lost you, I—“ 

Sunghoon pressed his body against yours, “I am right here, shhh baby, don’t cry I am right here.” Without hesitation, he crashed his lips to yours, sliding his hands down to your waist, “I am right here.” 

Three months. Three long months without him. With thinking he no longer existed in this world. Without touching him. You didn’t know what came over you, but you took advantage of this moment. Deepening the kiss and pulling him as close as possible against you. Sunghoon couldn’t get enough of you, every ounce of love poured out of him at this moment. His hands slid back up your body and gripped at the zipper of your suit at the same time as your fingers fumbled with his zipper, both of you pulling it down. You reached your hands into the suit at his shoulders and slid your hands down across his white tank top, the leather of the suit at your fingertips sending chills down his spine and oh god he couldn’t wait to actually feel your skin against his. 

You pulled the suit down his shoulders and arms, him pulling leather off his arms and dropping it at his waist, hands flying back to your now exposed waist and sliding them up, groaning at how your skin felt against his skin. His hands kept moving up, cupping your clothed breasts before pushing them up to your shoulders and pulling your suit off to expose your blue tank top and bare arms. Once it pooled at your hips, Sunghoon pressed himself further against you, taking in the feeling of you. He wanted more. Needed more. 

He grabbed your hands and placed them on his chest, moving them down his torso and stopping at the ends of his tank. You took care of the rest. Looping your fingers underneath the fabric and sliding your hands back up, grazing your fingers over his toned body as you dragged the tank up and over his head, disposing of it somewhere in the room. 

Sunghoon was losing his mind at your touch. Cursing himself more and more for forgetting the taste of you. For forgetting how perfectly your body connected with his. For forgetting you. 

You pulled the rest of his suit down, leaving him now in nothing but his boxers. You fought with the rest of your suit, Sunghoon’s hands making quick work to pull you off the wall and shoving the suit down and pressing you back against the wall, hands now removing your tank and bra then looping his fingers at your panties and removing them, leaving you completely bare to him. 

He tucked your lip between his teeth and pulled, loving the gasp of pleasure that escaped out your mouth, rubbing his clothed cock against your folds, “Let me have you,” he said after releasing your lip, his thumbs tucking into his boxers, “Baby, I want to feel you.” 

And oh god you needed to feel him. Your eager hands pulled down his boxers for him then placed your hands on his shoulder and lifted one leg up to his hip and did a small jump, Sunghoon catching you and wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, his tip prodding your entrance. 

Sunghoon stared deeply into your eyes as he lowered you down, his cock stretching you perfectly. You threw your head back against the wall, relishing in the pure bliss of feeling him deep inside you again after so long. Sunghoon might not remember the first time he’s fucked you, but he won’t forget this time. He’s going to fuck you to the point the memory and your sounds get burned into his brain. 

He pressed you harder against the wall, snapping his hips at a primal rate against your skin. He connected his lips back to yours, tongue licking at the inside of your mouth, not leaving a single inch of it untouched. Your hands slid from his shoulder and up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling. Sunghoon released his mouth from yours to moan at the grip you had on his hair, relishing in the sensation of each tuck you made, “Fuckkkk,” he lowered his head into your neck, “You really know how to work my body.”

You tilted your head at the touch of his lips to your neck and hissing as his teeth took your skin into his mouth and sucked, “And you haven’t forgotten how to work mine.” 

Sunghoon licked at the now purple mark on your neck, loving how good you tasted on his tongue. His breathing became uneven as he lost himself to the pleasure your cunt gave him, hips stuttering. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not with how tight you hugged his cock. 

“Baby,” he moans against your neck, “I’m not going to last much longer,” you felt his cock twitch and his hold on you becoming loose. 

Without another word, you went from being pressed to the wall to being pressed to his bed. Your legs are now being moved from his waist to over his shoulders, your thighs pressing against your chest. 

“Ughhh fucccckkkkk,” he groans, flinging his head back at how much deeper he is now inside you in this new position. His cock kissed your cervix with each thrust he made. You also weren’t going to last very long, not with how he fucked into you. 

“Hoonie,” you whine, digging your nails into his back, “I’m cumming,”

“Shit baby, me too.” 

You latched your lips onto his shoulder and bit down as your orgasm flooded out, coating his cock with your juices. He hissed at how much harder you bit down, making him see stars with the final thrust, his seed painting your gummy walls. 

But he couldn’t stop moving, wanting to relish in the feeling of you as much as possible, even if it was overstimulating you both, “I love you,” he whined, finally dropping his weight on top of you, lips pressing to your temple, “I love you.” 

You slid your hands down his biceps, eyes looking at the ring on your middle finger and tears swelled your eyes once more, “I love you too, please don’t ever forget that.”

Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, “I won’t baby. I won’t ever forget again.” 

You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but you also didn’t seem to care. Not when there was so much lost time to make up between you and Sunghoon. 

Mostly not caring because of the way Sunghoon had flipped you over not even twenty minutes after the first round and had your face pressed into the pillows and pounding into you from behind. 

Sunghoon couldn’t help it. His love for you was pouring out and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The way you felt wrapped around him exceeded every ounce of pleasure he could have imagined. He just wanted to love on you in every way possible, and right now that was fucking you like tomorrow wasn’t promised. 

Both of you were cased in sweat mixed with both your legs sticky from the number of times he’d made you cum alongside him. Even once you both finally got out of bed and into the shower to clean yourselves off, Sunghoon had your back pressed to the cool tile wall. Rocking his hips against yours slowly as his hands explored every inch of your body and his mouth brushed on yours with soft moans escaping his lips. 

It took a lot of you convincing him after cumming once again that there was still work to be done and to finally clean up. He pouted but nevertheless listened to you.

With both your suits now zipped back and weapons in hand, it was time to move forward. 

“Next stop is the power plant?” Sunghoon asked, closing the door to his room behind him, taking one last long look at Heeseung’s door as you both walked past. 

You turned and looked at him, seeing the sadness back in his eyes, “We’ll send the survivors out on the escape pods first and get them off this station. Then the next stop is the power plant.” 

Sunghoon nodded, finally drifting his eyes off his best friend's door, and placed his hand on your lower back, fingers slightly digging into the fabric of your suit, “Let’s get going then.” 

The walk to the bridge was quiet, only encountering a few mimics which was nothing either of you couldn’t handle. Sunghoon followed close behind you as you guided him back through the Arboretum and into an elevator taking you up. Sunghoon silently thanked whoever designed this station because this elevator had the perfect view of space as you ascended up. His lips slightly parted, completely blown away by how beautiful space truly was. 

You noticed how in awe he was, “The first time I ever saw you,” you started, gaining Sunghoon’s attention. You smiled and looked away from him, letting your eyes trace the stars, “You and Heeseung were looking at live photos of space back in the company building. You had that exact same look on your face.” 

You turned to face him once again, moving to stand right beside him, and as if on instinct, he reached his arm out to wrap around your waist and pull you close, his lips making purchase on the crown of your head, “What about when I first saw you?” 

You looked up at him, “You were an asshole when we first met.” 

Sunghoon chuckled, looking back out into the infinite space, “Sounds about right.” 

You hugged him close, “It didn’t take me long to get you to warm up to me once we boarded Astra 1.” You smiled at the memory, feeling like it just happened yesterday when it was a little over a year ago, “I just had to separate you from Heeseung first.” 

Another chuckle left his lips, “He was my best friend, we were practically attached at the hip.” 

You traced your gloved finger over the line of his jaw, “Trust me, I know.” You stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his cheek, “You both were a package deal, just like Jake and I were.” 

Sunghoon tried to act like the word were wasn’t affecting him. How could he just get used to saying it in a past-tense way? He was pulled from his thoughts as the elevator windows finally got covered by parts of the station and came to a stop, the doors slowly opening. 

The hallway was dark, immediately forcing Sunghoon to quip both hands onto the shotgun, eyes double-checking that his handy wrench was still attached to his belt. Sunghoon slowly stepped off the elevator, eyes darting straight ahead, “Stay close to me, YN.” You stayed on his heels as you both trekked down the hall, a set of stairs going up, which he assumed was the bridge, and another going down, which he also assumed was the escape pods. And sure enough, he was right as a sign came into view pointing him in the direction he needed, heading directly down the stairs. 

As you both gained closer to the door, the voices of the survivors echoed into the hall softly. Once Sunghoon pushed the door open, all eyes were locked on him and you, especially Jay’s. 

𝚃𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

Sunghoon scowled at Jay, “We had important things to deal with!” 

Jay eyed Sunghoon up and down. 

𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝.

Sunghoon cocked his head to the side and stuck his tongue into his cheek. 

��𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

Jay clenched his fists, “Try me, Dr. Park.” 

Sunghoon lifted the shotgun, parting the sea of people between him and Jay, “I will blow your brains out along with this goddamn station! Shut your fucking mouth!” 

You rushed to him, gripping the barrel of the gun and pushing it down, “Sunghoon, that’s enough. Same to you Jay!” 

Both men scoffed but backed down. 

“Get in the pods,” Sunghoon finally spoke back up after a few minutes of silence, “Now.” Sunghoon instructed to keep the first pod free, wanting to have it as easy access once the station was set to explode and make it an easier escape for you and him. 

One by one, each survivor piled into the pods, and one by one, Sunghoon closed the hatch and sent the pods out. The final pod to prepare was Jay’s along with the remaining survivors. Sunghoon set the pod to be launched, taking one final look inside at Jay. 

“Tell your sister hi for me, ya?” 

Jay stood to his feet, “You son of a b—“ he was cut off by the pod's door closing and the hatch covering the pod before sending it out. 

You rolled your eyes, “Did you have to piss him off?” 

Sunghoon shrugged, placing his hand at your hip and moving you back towards the entrance, “He just irritates me.” 

You sigh, “Yeah, he irritated you even before your memory was wiped.” 

Which didn't surprise him at all. 

He shrugged again, “Let’s just go blow this motherfucker up, ya?” 

The descent to the bottom of the station was short but nerve-racking. Sunghoon couldn’t shake off the feeling that something very bad was lurking around. He couldn’t describe it, the eerie feeling he got once the elevator arrived at the power plant. It shook him to the core. 

“We’d have to override the system,” you said stepping out of the elevator, “It won’t be hard, but once it’s activated we’ll need to run—“ 

“Shh!” he quickly hushed, pointing his index finger to his lips, “Something doesn’t feel right.” 

You wanted to question him but stopped yourself after seeing the terrified look on his face. You’ve never seen him so scared, or ever scared at all. Something has to be wrong. 

You looked around the power plant, trying to find what Sunghoon was so desperately trying to find. The air grew thick as you too, couldn’t shake off the feeling that something bad was lurking down here. And unfortunately, there were only two ways to go: either back up the elevator, or pass all this machinery and into the next room where you’d need to be heading anyway. 

Reaching out for his arm, you pulled him towards the office room to overrate the system, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

𐌉 𐋅𐌀ᕓ𐌄 𐌅o𐌵𐌍𐌃 𐌙o𐌵, 𐌌𐌙 𐌐𐌓𐌄𐌙.

A loud screech filled the room, forcing you and Sunghoon down to your knees and cupping your ears. Sunghoon being more affected than you as his voice almost matches the same pitch of the screech with his own screams. His throat went dry and his voice hoarse as his screams no longer erupted from his mouth. 

The screech stopped and something compelled Sunghoon to slowly turn his head, eyes widening. 

“What the fuck is that?!” He yelled, his whole body shaking and not being able to move. 

You crawled over to him and got to your feet, shoving your hands under his arms and forcing his trembling body up anyway, “A fucking nightmare! RUN!” 

The nightmare was the same height as the ceiling, his head barely scraping its surface. The thing had to be pushing eighteen—twenty feet. It looked exactly like a normal phantom, but huge. 

Sunghoon tried to reach for his shotgun, but you pulled him away all too quickly, “Leave it!” you screamed over the nightmare echoing out its screech but on a lower pitch, “That gun won’t do nothing for you!” 

So you both ran. The nightmare taking one step compared to your multiple, its arms reaching down, ready to grab you both. 

Almost there. Almost there. Just a few more steps. ALMOST THERE!!

And bless whatever idiot that was down here last and left the door unlocked, making the escape into the room easier. Once you both were in, you locked the door and hurried to the computer monitors, pressing your fingers away at the keys. 

Sunghoon dropped to the floor and hung his head low. He felt like he was going to be sick. This was it. It’s all over. 

The nightmare clawed at the wall and door, its screeches barely being muffled. 

“What…” Sunghoon swallowed, “What is that monster?” 

You kept your eyes locked into the monitor, “A nightmare, its sole purpose is to hunt its prey. It’s unknown how it was created or what even created it,” You looked back at him, then faced the monitor again, “Get up! I need your help!” 

Sunghoon couldn’t move no matter how badly he wanted to. 

𐌔𐌵𐌍Ᏽ𐋅oo𐌍. 𐌋𐌄𐌕 𐌌𐌄 𐌉𐌍.

He cupped his hands over his ears, “It knows my name.” 

You whip back around to him, “Sunghoon!” You snapped at him, his eyes locking with yours, “Please help me!” 

It took every ounce of strength for him to move, “What do you need me to do?” 

You pointed over to the panel, “Once I finish overriding the system, you’ll need to flip those three switches back to back. An alarm will sound off and it’ll push the nightmare away and off to somewhere else on the station or hopefully off it. It’ll also start the countdown until this place goes up in flames.” 

Sunghoon nodded, shaking his head and focusing on the switches in front of him. 

𐌔𐌵𐌍Ᏽ𐋅oo𐌍. 𐌋𐌄𐌕 𐌌𐌄 𐌉𐌍.

“SHUT UP!” He screamed, clenching his fists against the counter, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” 

Those words alone were enough to prove your suspicions true: Sunghoon still had a neuromod attached to his brain. It made so much more sense on his reactions each time you’ve encountered a Typhon and even Jay. This was a matter to take care of once back on Earth. 

You kept your fingers moving until finally the override was completed, “Sunghoon! Now!” 

He flipped the switches and the alarm sounded not a second afterward. The nightmare let out a pained screech then everything went silent besides the alarm. 

“Come on,” you pulled on his arm, “We have fifteen minutes to get back to the escape pods.” 

But Sunghoon wouldn’t budge, “How does it know my name?” 

You swallowed, gripping your fingers tighter around his arm, “This isn’t the first time you’ve met it.” 

That’s all he wanted to know. All he needed to know. You could see it was all the information he wanted, so you pulled at him once again, his hand now reaching for yours and leading you to the door, “Let's get the fuck off this station.”

Fifteen minutes. That’s all the time you both were given to make it from the bottom of the station to the top. It took five minutes for the elevator to reach the bridge. Three minutes to rush out of the elevator and to the escape pods. 

Seven minutes remain. 

The minute Sunghoon whipped around the corner to the pods, his hands got to work on the panel. Trying to work as quickly as possible to start up the pod. 

But something wasn’t right. 

Error code. After error code. After error code. 

Your eyes widened at the realization: this escape pod has been tampered with. 

Six minutes remain. 

“FUCK!” Sunghoon slammed his fist against the wall and then rushed his hands through his hair, stepping back from the panel and squeezing his eyes. After ruffling his hair, he rushed back to the panel, once again trying to set up the pod. 

“Sunghoon,” you touched his shoulder, “If we run fast enough we can make it to the shuttle bay and escape on one of the ships.” 

Five minutes remain. 

“We don’t have time!” he snapped, continuing to try and bypass the error codes, only for one last message to pop up on the screen before shit hit the fan: 

ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ — ᴊ.

Sunghoon gritted his teeth. He knew he couldn’t trust Jay. Knew nothing good came from that man. Sunghoon should have held him as a hostage until this point. You looked down to the metal floor. 

“We need to—“ 

Just then the escape pod launched. Both your helmets automatically clipped over your heads to protect you from the infinite space. The panel door not closing after the pod launch. 

Time seemed to have slowed for Sunghoon, seeing you get pulled outside of the station along with him. He managed to grip a hold of a safety bar with one hand, and gripping the strap of your suit's belt with the other. 

Warning signs flashed on the hud of your helmets, warning about the lack of air and safety. 

You tried to remain calm as you gripped your hands onto Sunghoon’s arm, trying and failing to keep your tears at bay. You were terrified. And so was Sunghoon. 

“Keep a hold of me, YN!” he shouted, trying to use all his strength to pull himself back into the station, “I got you baby, don’t let go!” 

Sunghoon pulled himself close enough to plant one foot back onto the station, his foot then slipping and grip tightening on the bar. 

Don’t let go of her. Don’t let go of her. 

You stared through watery eyes at your lover, watching as he struggled to pull the weight of both of you. You both were going to die here if he couldn’t pull you both back in. You’d both die with this godforsaken station if something couldn’t be done right now. 

And that’s when you made your decision. 

Sunghoon’s left arm gripping the bar was getting weaker and weaker, you could see it. Even after he managed to plant his foot back on the station and hook his leg around the corner for better support, he’d still need to keep his left hand on that bar. 

“Baby, I need you to listen to me,” he said, voice shaking, “I need you to try and reach for the station, okay? YN are you listening to me?” 

You were listening. But you already had made your mind up. 

“YN!” 

“Let me go,” you said calmly, eyes locking deeply with his, “I need you to let me go.” 

Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “Are you fucking crazy! I’m not letting you go!! Pull your ass back into this station right now!!” 

You could see his grip was slipping. He was about to fall out into space with you. 

“Sunghoon,” you said, tears streaming down your face, “I need you to let me go and get to the shuttle bay and off this station.” 

He shook his head again, gripping his hand tighter at your belt, “I’m not letting you go!” tears swelled in his eyes, head shaking again, “I can’t lose you! I just found you…I can’t…” 

“Sunghoon.”

He ignored you, once again trying with all his strength to pull you back to the station, the air escaping the station was making it hard for him to keep his grip on not only you but the bar and leg wrapped around the corner, “Baby, please!” He begged, “Please, don’t leave me.” 

You slid your hands from his arm and placed them on top of his fingers, the tips of your fingers curling into his fist. 

“Astra commands,” you said, the menu pulling up on your hud.

Sunghoon furrows his brows, “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your eyes glanced up to the number on the side of the station’s wall to indicate which escape pod was once there, “Close escape pod door thirty, on my command.” 

Sunghoon shook his head once again, “YN, stop!” 

He tried to pull up the commands as well, voice cracking with each word as he tried to disable your commands, but unfortunately, he couldn’t. 

“Should have never given me access to everything on the ship,” you said trying to lighten the mood in some way possible. 

The tears now fell down his cheeks, “This isn’t fucking funny! Pull yourself in! Please!” He couldn’t take his eyes off you, “I can’t lose you, too.” 

He would have lost everything if you continued down this path. He cursed Jay’s name for fucking with the last chance you and he had at survival. 

You pulled at his fingers, “I love you.” 

He continued to shake his head, “No, don’t say it as if it’s the last time.” 

You weakly smiled at him, “Please get to the shuttle bay, you need to survive.” 

“You need to survive too!!” 

One final tear jerked from your eye, “I love you, Park Sunghoon.” 

“I love you, too,” he cried, knowing nothing was going to change your mind but still fought against your fingers, “Baby, please.” 

“Close the door.” 

You quickly pulled his fingers from your belt and shoved his arm back. 

“NO!!!”

Before he could watch you float into the infinite space, the door closed, locking him on the station. 

His helmet retracted back. His heart pounded out of his chest as he balled his hands into fists and repeatedly hit them against the door. Nothing came out of his mouth besides his screams. 

He didn't know how much time he had left nor did he even care. You were gone. The last important thing to him was gone. 

He tired himself out from screaming, dropping himself to the floor and hunched over. He lost control of his own station and company. He lost his memories. He lost his best friend. He lost the love of his life.

Sunghoon twisted himself around, resting his back and head against the wall, staring off into the distance and slowly closing his eyes. He made his decision: he wasn’t going to live without you. 

“Dr. Park.” 

“Go away,” Sunghoon opened his eyes to see the little white ball floating above him, “Leave me alone.”’

Nov tilted to its side, “My purpose is to make sure you follow throu—“ 

“This station is set to explode at any moment now, you kept your promise to the past me. Now leave me be.” 

Sunghoon knew Nov was just following directions he himself had given him, “I was created to also protect you, Dr. Park.” 

Sunghoon stared up at the ceiling, “I want to be with them again. Please give this to me.” 

Nov said nothing as it floated its small body down to his side, resting against his thigh. 

Sunghoon took a deep breath in, picturing the photo back in his bedroom of him, you, Heeseung, and Jake. The three people that meant the most to him even if he doesn’t fully remember it all. He pictured the photos that hung on his wall, all the memories he’d made with you, and the promise of how he was going to marry you once back on Earth. A promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. 

The only promise he could keep was never to forget you again. He’d die knowing that. 

The alarm of the station finally stopped as a tear ran down his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’ll see you again soon, YN, Heeseung, and Jake. I’ll be there soon.” 

The corners of his lips curled as the last thing he felt was heat.

intro | part one | part two

— perm. tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

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@vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee

@hee-lvrr @1309zip @moon0fthenight

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Solomon so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's humanity's most powerful sorcerer (swd: 2-A) and one of RAD's first exchange students who has pacts with 72 different demons (swd: 2-2), two of which are Asmodeus and Barbatos (swd: 2-A).

➤ He was the one to rescue MC from Lucifer when the demon was threatening them during the dance party at the retreat, and when MC asked him how to control a demon who's in a pact with them, Solomon explained that they didn't have the magic abilities to that yet but lent them his powers, saying he was "interested to know what would happen if he did." (swd: 8-8) And his powers came in handy later on when MC and the others were escaping from Henry 1.0 and MC used his borrowed powers to summon Asmodeus and charm the giant snake. (swd: 8-13)

➤ He's in possession of the Ring of Wisdom, which grants him the power to control demons. It was given to him by Michael himself, as a way to help Solomon during a time when he was feeling "lost." (swd: 29-5)

➤ He made himself immortal by accident while researching new forms of magic and as a result of it, can no longer grow old or die. (swd: 36-3)

➤ He was the first to suspect that MC's powers were becoming a threat to the three realms when he connected MC's return to the Human World to the "natural disasters" that started happening in ancient locations that were connected to the other realms. And to test if his hypothesis was correct, he brought them to Devildom with him. (swd: 37-4)

➤ Being the one to find out about MC's "situation", he was also the one who told Diavolo and Barbatos about it (swd: 37-4). For a while, they were the only ones who knew, as the prince decided to keep it a secret until there was solid proof that MC was the cause of the disasters happening around them. Eventually, though, Solomon was able to convince Diavolo that it was a good idea to tell Simeon, making him the fourth to know. (swd: 32-16)

➤ After giving it some thought, he decided to go against Diavolo's request and tell MC about their powers anyway. He was beginning to tell them when Lucifer fainted, affected by MC's powers (swd: 36-18). The secret was out to everyone then.

➤ He stole the Night Dagger - the item that was supposed to be used on MC to sever their pacts with the brothers when their powers were proven to be a threat to everyone and everything around them - from Thirteen's cave. (swd: 37-9)

➤ When he found out that to use the Night Dagger to save the three worlds he needed to kill a high-ranking demon with it first he made a plan to kill Lucifer himself, but the idea of MC hating him because of it made him change his mind. (swd: 38-15)

➤ He took MC as his apprentice to help them learn how to control their powers (swd: 38-19) and from then on became their teacher, guiding them through the journey of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer.

➤ According to Michael, he's a decent human with a good head on his shoulders, but can be even more troublesome than demons at times. "He acts as if he understands his own powers, but he doesn't." The angel tells MC - who had been sent back in time to when the brothers were still angels in the Celestial Realm through a dream due to eating Solomon's cooking - before bringing them back home. (swd: 44-18)

➤ He founded the Sorcerers’ Society with one of his past apprentices who he later had a strong disagreement with, which led to Solomon distancing himself from the society. (swd: 45-4)

➤ His pact with Asmodeus was made in a tavern long long ago while the brother was drunk out of his mind. (swd: 53-16) Solomon saw that the demon was in no coherent state and took advantage of that to propose a pact between the two of them. (nb: 6-18 and 17-13)

➤ He met Barbatos even before he met Asmodeus when he risked death to summon the butler (swd: 53-16), desperately needing his powers to control time for reasons that are still unknown (swd: 49-A).

➤ He has Barbatos' grimoire, which the butler gave to him himself out of trust and respect for him. (swd: 53-16)

➤ After MC completed their trials to become a sorcerer and before the brothers left the Human World, he gave MC a sorcerer's ring. (swd: 59-11)

➤ When teleported away by Barbatos as punishment for summing him, he found himself in a dining room where Diavolo and Simeon were arguing over which side should be the one to “guide” humanity, demons or angels. They asked Solomon to make a choice but he told them that humans don't need their protection, claiming that he wants humanity to be free and that's part of an agreement he has with someone. Then, everything goes black and an unknown voice ( who we later find out is Nightbringer ) accuses Solomon of being “difficult” and tells him that things would be easier if he chose his side, even bringing up MC to ask if the sorcerer would change his mind if his apprentice was to “get caught up in the middle of it.” In response Solomon asks if that's a threat and tells Nightbringer that he's acting like a demon, explaining later that he knows MC wants the same thing as him. The voice calls him overconfident for this, saying that Solomon is sure to the point where he becomes arrogant, and tells him that he is the one behaving like a demon. Solomon isn't surprised by this, replying that it's to be expected considering that Nightbringer is “the one who made him who he is today.” (nb: 9-A and 10-A)

➤ He met Thirteen when he was still a child, and she wasn't even an apprentice reaper yet. The meeting was a surprise to both of them but to Solomon even more, who shrieked in terror when he saw her. According to her, Solomon's soul was as bright as MC's back then, but ever since becoming "The Witty Sorcerer" that changed and it no longer sparkles the same way. (nb: 11-10)

➤ Thirteen blames Barbatos for how much he changed. She told MC that Solomon used to be very lovable and innocent when he was younger, but that Barbatos let him experience whatever he wanted and that's the reason why nothing scares or fazes him anymore. (nb: 11-10)

➤ Although he's immortal there are still ways to kill Solomon by using certain magic and cursed items, and Thirteen is waiting for the day he dies to have his soul. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He was given the title of “the Witty Sorcerer” by Barbatos when the demon brought him to the Fountain of Knowledge for the first time while Solomon was on the verge of death. Barbatos then declared that the human was supposed to protect the spring, and Solomon stayed there until his wounds were healed. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He was raised in a place where magic was a thing to be feared and people were locked up and killed for simply having been rumored to have been seen using it. For that reason, Solomon's parents locked him in a basement away from the world when he started developing magic skills as a child out of fear of what the townsfolk could do to him and the rest of the family if they knew. (nb: 14-14)

➤ While locked away Solomon had a friend ( most likely another child ) who would visit him every now and then and chat with him through the bars of the window in the basement. Something happened to that friend, but Solomon couldn't bring himself to say what. (nb: 14-14 and 14-16)

➤ His life goal is to be powerful enough to protect humanity and to create a world where humans demons and angels can finally stand as equals (nb: 14-14 and 14-16), as opposed to now where humans are seen as an inferior race that to one side ( demons ) is prey and to the other ( angels ) are weaker beings that must be protected. That's also why he's determined to continue to make pacts with powerful demons such as Lucifer, to obtain more power from those pacts.

➤ In a book Satan found there is a passage about Solomon that reads: "Long ago, in a corner of the human world, a sorcerer of rare and extraordinary power was born. He was extremely unique, both in power and nature. As such, he was unable to find a place within human society, and was persecuted by his people, who refused to accept such an aberration. For quite some time he fought to suppress his own power; until he could do so no longer, and lost control. He ended up causing tremendous damage and destruction to the human world." "Once it became clear that the sorcerer posed a threat not just to humans, but to all three worlds, a lone demon appeared before him, offering him guidance. The demon made him guardian of the Fountain of Knowledge and gave him a new lease on life. And so, as the freshly minted protector of knowledge itself, he was thereafter known as 'the wise sorcerer, a title he retains to this day." (nb: 16-4)

➤ He fought a war against the Devildom by himself. (nb: 7-8) It started with Solomon proposing to the Demon King that the demonic realm partnered up with him and demons worked under him to further the Human World’s development, which angered the king and gave start to the war, which lasted 7 days. (nb card: "unforgettable past")

[slytherinslut0]

hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.

(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))

tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->

tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.

hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.

tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.

not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.

i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.

i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->

perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.

originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.

there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.

your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.

his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.

tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.

he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.

which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.

he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.

however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.

your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.

he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.

he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.

it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.

your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.

it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.

as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.

during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.

surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.

tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.

the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.

he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.

however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.

perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.

it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.

you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.

observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.

his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.

the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.

perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.

he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.

he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.

he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.

and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.

the man moves at his own pace.

so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.

and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.

if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.

and this might have annoyed some, but not you.

you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.

eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.

and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.

your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.

whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.

making you his.

without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.

you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.

as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.

pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”

the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.

of course, you’d be his.

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part one)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

author’s note hugs to @nemesyaaa for sharing the idea of singledad!zach. i couldn’t stop writing (and the one-shot hit 15k words and became a two-shot… i love slowburn…) hurt and comfort. fluff. no smut. divider credit.

content warning parental abandonment

» masterlist

Zach is sure, without a doubt, that he has already lived the best day of his life.

The moment he held Ella in his arms was when the world bloomed into a color he didn’t know existed. Nothing could ever and would ever top that feeling.

He didn’t expect that before thirty, he’d already experience the worst day of his life, too. But he’s certain he has.

He was in a fog, a bad dream he kept trying to wake himself up from. He had stepped into the guest room to see a piece of paper on Jade’s bed and he knew before he even unfolded the letter that she was gone.

He read the last line of the letter over and over again. I can’t live like this anymore. Deep down, he always feared that she would give up on them. But not like this. And not this soon.

After Ella was born, bitterness permanently etched itself into Jade’s face. To her, the baby was always a mistake and Zach stopped being someone she loved and became nothing but the man she regretfully had a child with.

She became the antithesis of the girl he fell for. The love they’d once had was replaced with a cold distance. She started sleeping in the guest room. She ate her meals alone. She left the house as much as she could.

Still, he respected that she had learned to tolerate motherhood. While she didn’t love being a stay-at-home mom, he didn’t think she hated it.

But then she left. And if she could abandon them like this, four years in, not even having it in her to look into her little girl’s eyes to say goodbye, then that tolerance had a cruel end.

That’s why now, a month after her sudden departure, Zach is sitting in his living room, fingers curling the corner of the resume belonging to the woman scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.

Dishes clatter as his mother tidies up his kitchen. Normally, he’d feel guilty and nag her to sit down. But things aren’t normal and he’ll take all the help he can get. It’s been an uphill battle trying to pick up the pieces on his own.

His family drove in a few nights ago. They offered to visit as soon as he called with the news, but he didn’t want to put Ella through too much at once, so he waited a few weeks. Once he asked them to come, they dropped everything and set out for the four-hour car ride.

Ella’s playing in the backyard with her grandpa and aunt while Connie helps Zach run interviews. His team’s managers were understanding when he asked for time off, but Zach can’t be away forever. With his training and match schedule, he needs to find a nanny.

He’d rather not introduce a new person into her life, especially this soon, but it’s unavoidable. At least with a nanny, he can control that Ella will always be in the comfort of her home. A place she knows.

Moments like these, he wishes he hadn’t been drafted to a team a state away. If he’d stayed close to his hometown, Ella would see both sets of grandparents more often and he’d have dependable childcare until he figured out how to function as a single dad.

Zach looks over his shoulder through the window, swallowing the lump in his throat when he sees his daughter running circles around her grandpa in the morning sun. The chime of the doorbell throws him out of his trance.

Soft blue eyes meet yours when the door swings open. The stranger on the other side is tall and handsome and younger than you expected, his half-smile clouded by sorrow. You introduce yourself and he offers you a firm but gentle handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Zach. Come in.”

You trail him into the large house, mind already racing with the potential of it becoming your workplace. The agency had set up the interview. You don’t know much about the client, except that he has a four-year-old daughter and that he requested a nanny who’s adaptable to a changing schedule.

After meeting Ella’s grandmother, you settle on a couch and make small talk and answer their questions. You learn that Zach is a professional soccer player and that his work can be demanding and inconsistent, but with your apartment being close by, you assure him that you’re reliable and flexible.

By the end of the interview, the idea of a nanny doesn’t make Zach nearly as uneasy as it did an hour ago. You’re kind and experienced and knowledgeable and every time you see his little girl through the window, you smile in pure endearment.

Zach likes the idea of his daughter being around someone joyful. Jade grew to be so cold that Ella learned to go to her dad whenever she wanted to feel reassured and loved. It’s comforting to imagine her growing to like you, maybe even love you, and to be met with the same warmth she’s so full of.

The rest of the interviews go fine, but Zach has always operated on gut feelings and you’re a clear winner. His mom agrees.

────୨ৎ────

After an agency rep calls to tell you that you’ve been offered a trial period, you spend five days at the house getting to know Ella while Zach shadows to answer your questions. He’s friendly and helpful, but visibly tense.

The final afternoon, you’re playing with Ella in the living room when Zach’s phone rings. Ella rushes over to his side, asking if it’s her mommy calling. You notice the nervous way his jaw clenches when he kneels to the floor.

“It’s grandma,” he tells her, holding his phone out so the camera will capture them both.

You pretend you didn’t hear Ella's question. You know nothing about her mom and you wouldn’t dare risk crossing a boundary by asking.

Soon after the call, Ella’s drawing at the dining table while you and Zach periodically glance across the room to check on her from the kitchen. He’s been teaching you how he prepares Ella’s favorite foods. He likes that you write everything down, asking him for details down to exact measurements. If he wasn’t sure that you took the happiness of his daughter seriously before, he is now.

He already told the story to his family and to Jade’s parents and to his closest friends, but that was with people he knew well. People who could comfort him. He’s not sure how to share with you that she left, but he wants to hire you, and this is something you should be aware of.

After he slides a pan into the oven, he stands to face you, towering over you as he wipes his hands with a tea towel.

“You have the job if you want it,” Zach says quietly. You smile at him appreciatively. You weren’t feeling confident, considering how on edge he’s been, but you realize it must not have been you he was nervous about.

“Thank you,” you reply. “I do.”

He nods, looking down as he leans against the kitchen island, and says, “She starts kindergarten next fall. You’d be alright with part-time hours then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Uh, you should know…” he says, turning his head to look over at his daughter, “her mom left. A little over a month ago. It was out of the blue.”

Your heart twists in pain at his words, at the agony that draws itself into his face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, staring up at his profile. Zach blinks a few times, gazing at his daughter. You press your lips together, wishing you knew what to say.

“Ella didn’t get a goodbye,” he tells you. Neither did he, not a real one, but that’s irrelevant. “I told her that her mom chose to leave and I don’t know why she made that choice, but I’m not going anywhere. If she brings it up, please say the same.”

“I will,” you reply with an understanding nod, “and only if she mentions it first.”

“Thank you,” Zach says. “I’ll be honest with you. I really don’t want someone to leave her again. You are planning on staying as long as we need you, right? Even when the hours get shorter during the school year?”

He had that same note of desperation in his voice when he asked you about your commitment to the job during the interview, too.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I understand that she needs stability right now.”

Based on the way Zach’s eyes lower, you can tell he needs stability, too. His wife not only left him, but she left him with their child. You can’t imagine the hole that it dug in his heart.

“Thanks,” he says. He takes a breath. He wasn’t strong enough not to cry when he told Ella her mom was gone and he’ll always hate himself for it, but at least he kept his tears from falling this time.

“Do you want to ask her what she thinks about it?” you offer. “I can go put away her laundry to give you some privacy.”

Zach nods in agreement. And as he expected, when he asks his daughter if she’d like for you to hang around here more often after he goes back to work, she gives him an enthusiastic yes.

You’re purposely slow with the laundry to give them time. You come back into the kitchen to see Ella happily eating a freshly baked muffin and swinging her feet, smiling up at her father as he sits next to her at the dining table.

“My daddy said you’re gonna be here every day,” she says to you with a grin, overjoyed by the news.

“Not every day,” Zach corrects her gently. “But most days.”

“Try this!” Ella exclaims, stretching her arm out towards you, the muffin in her fist. The way you happily accept the food even though it’s reduced to smushed fragments in his child’s small hand makes Zach’s heart feel a little lighter.

“That’s delicious,” you say after you take a bite, settling at the table across from them.

Zach’s still getting used to having a woman around who’s so sweet to his child. Jade would hardly ever accept Ella’s offers to share her food, telling him that saying yes to everything would only raise a spoiled child.

“My daddy’s the bestest cook,” she proudly says.

“Best,” Zach corrects. “Thank you, honey.”

“He really is,” you reply. “I don’t know how I’ll fill his shoes, but I’ll try my best.”

Ella’s face pinches in confusion as she kneels over in her booster seat to look under the table.

“I think his shoes will be too big for you,” she mumbles, pointing to your feet. You laugh, meeting Zach’s gaze, seeing the first genuine smile on his face. You didn’t know he had dimples.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed, really laughed, with someone like this. Life’s dealt him a tough hand, but you’ve given him relief.

────୨ৎ────

Zach is organized. So organized that it sort of amazes you. Not only does he give you his, and in turn, your work schedule a month in advance through a color-coded calendar, but he also provides you with a meal plan for Ella so that you don’t have to worry about making one yourself.

The first day on your own with her is perfect. She’s energetic, well-behaved, and loves to talk. Zach left for training at noon and you were surprised that he found the time to text as much as he did. You replied to his every message asking for updates, sharing what you’re doing and reassuring him that Ella’s doing okay.

He gets home an hour after Ella’s bedtime. He’s been on edge all day, worrying that all this was too much, too fast for his little girl. Maybe he should have taken more time off.

You’re finishing up loading the dishwasher when you hear his keys jingling. You turn to greet him as he paces into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was bedtime?” he asks.

“We read three books and she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep,” you tell him. “No issues.”

Zach sighs in relief. He never liked afternoon training because he missed bedtime. Ella preferred bedtime with her dad over with her mom. She preferred everything with her dad, really. But hearing that she wanted you to stay is reassuring.

“And she ate well?” he asks. He settles on one of the stools lining the kitchen counter, watching you cross the room to stand opposite him.

“Yes,” you tell him. “She was great.”

“Sorry if I was annoying with all the texts,” he says with a small, apologetic smile.

“You weren’t, but I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you want to set up cameras. I know some parents like having live video they can tune into throughout the day.” You’d already noticed the security cameras outside when you first came to the house. You understand why he’d be so protective.

Zach threads his fingers through his dirty blond hair, damp from the shower he took in the training center’s locker room.

“Alright, I was definitely annoying if you’re offering to be surveilled,” he mumbles with a chuckle.

“No,” you laugh. “Ella did get a little frustrated, though. We were playing princesses and she said princesses aren’t supposed to go on their phones this much.”

Zach breathes a laugh. You’ve only been here for six days, but he hasn’t smiled this much in a long time.

“Thank you for all your work today,” he says. “I won’t keep you any longer.” You give him a bright smile and wish him a good night before you head out.

When Zach trudges upstairs, he peeks into Ella’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up with her favorite plushie. Now that he has a semblance of normalcy back in his life, he realizes that beneath the sadness and betrayal, he feels anger.

It’s not typical of him to feel angry. But Jade set everything ablaze when she abandoned them and he’s been left in the ashes, trying to stay level-headed while he’s choking on smoke.

He knows he lost Jade’s heart long ago. She lost his, too. It’s the fact that she broke their daughter’s without any hesitation – that’s what kills him.

────୨ৎ────

Zach never takes you up on the offer to have cameras installed. He starts to let go, little by little, eventually going a full day without sending a single check-in text. It’s gratifying to know you’ve earned his trust.

Before you know it, you’ve been Ella’s nanny for two months. She’s made herself a home in your heart. The only way you’d ever leave her is if you were told to, and you can’t even imagine being fired. Zach often checks in to see if you’re happy with your job and asks if there’s anything he can do to make things better. He clearly values you and doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s mid-morning when you’re playing with Ella on the living room floor and Zach comes through the front door. She rushes to him and you smile as you watch him drop his duffle bag and happily scoop his daughter up.

He had an away game last night and flew in early. His skin is blanched, dark half-circles under his eyes, but like always, he finds energy for his daughter. You admire it about him, how she’s never too much for him.

“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen,” you tell him when he meets your gaze.

“You don’t have to–”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. Zach has already told you many times that Ella’s the only one you have to feed, but you can tell he appreciates coming home to a meal. “There were leftovers.”

“Were there?” he asks, brows quirked, an unconvinced smirk on his lips.

You shrug and laugh again. You’ve grown into a friendly level of comfort with each other and you appreciate how you can joke around with him.

Zach sits in the dining room to eat, listening to Ella tell him all about her playdate yesterday. You tidy up the living room as you overhear her chat about how her friend was showing her ballet poses and how badly she wants lessons.

You’d sent Zach a courtesy text before you fell asleep in the guest room last night: We had a great day. She had a lot of fun on the playdate. Just so you’re prepared, she’s VERY into ballet now and is going to ask you if she can get lessons. Sending some options. Then, you sent him a few links to children’s dance classes in town.

You woke up to two texts from him. The first said: Appreciate the warning and the research. Am I crazy for holding on to hope that she’ll like soccer one day? You smiled at your screen. You’d briefly talked with Zach about how Ella has no interest in the sport her father dedicated his career to.

The second text from him, sent fifteen minutes later, read: Would you be alright with taking her to 6-6:45 pm classes on Wednesdays when I can’t? The season starts next week.

You replied when you woke up: Definitely.

You enter the dining room to see Ella hanging off her dad’s shoulders while he tries to eat, continuing to rattle on about how she’d never miss a lesson and would always listen in class.

“Alright, take a breath,” he chuckles. When he tells her you found her a class at a studio uptown and that he’ll enroll her if she’s sure she can commit, she squeals in delight. She hugs Zach, then runs over to hug you, too, nearly knocking you over.

“Easy,” her dad tells her. Ella asks you to turn on the ballet music playlist you found for her yesterday and launches into twirls across the living room.

“Remember what I said,” you tell her over the music. “If you start to get dizzy, you…?”

“Sit down, I know!” she shouts. You meet Zach’s eyes, both of you wearing smiles. You can see the fatigue on his face under the bright dining room light.

“Do you want me to stay another hour so you can catch up on sleep?” you offer. “I don’t mind.”

He knows his heart shouldn’t skip when he looks at you, but it does. He can’t help it. You don’t see this as a job you clock in and out of. You’ve integrated yourself into Ella’s life, into his life, so seamlessly. He doesn’t feel like you’re an employee here. You’re a friend who goes above and beyond to help. You’re someone who his daughter adores. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out.

He looks down at his plate, embarrassed, as if you can read his mind. His head has been doing this lately, rushing into thoughts of you that are much more than professional. He shouldn’t be thinking that his daughter’s nanny is beautiful.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “You can head home. We’ll see you soon.”

You nod and call Ella over to look at the calendar Zach made. It’s a routine with her every time you leave. She likes knowing when you’ll be back.

When Zach heads upstairs to drop his things off into his bedroom, he stops when he passes the guest room. You left the door ajar. Even though you always keep it neat, only leaving an overnight bag on the nightstand, there’s a lived in feeling, a warmth in the room that never existed before.

Once again, he has to remind himself that you’re paid to be here. But it’s hard not to like you, because even when Jade was living here, he felt alone, whereas having you around makes it hard to ignore that life doesn’t feel all that empty anymore.

────୨ৎ────

“Which one’s yours?”

You look over to the man sitting next to you on the dance studio bleachers. Young girls hop and whirl over the glossy hardwood floor in a sea of pink tutus, five minutes into their lesson.

“Oh, I’m...” You point to Ella. “Her nanny.”

Ella’s been in ballet for a few weeks now and it’s all she talks about. Zach’s schedule allows him to take her to most of her classes, but this is the second one you’ve come to and you can see just how much she enjoys it.

You make small-talk with the man and a few other parents, which makes the time pass quickly. When you get back to the house, Ella scarfs down her dinner and falls asleep during the first book you read her. You’re sitting in the living room when Zach comes home from training.

He’s nearing playoff season and he’s mentioned that he has much more practices booked in his schedule. At this point, he welcomes how you always pretend to accidentally make too much food. He doesn’t expect you to prepare meals for him, but after you’d reassured him that you don’t mind since you’re cooking anyway, he’s relieved to know he’ll have dinner waiting for him tonight.

“Hey,” you greet him from your spot on the couch. “Ballet was the best idea ever. It really tires her out. Bedtime was a breeze.”

“Right?” Zach says with a smile, pulling off his jacket. You look away to avoid gaping at his biceps under his t-shirt. You thought he was good-looking the moment you met him and getting to know him has only made him more attractive.

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d like any help with her birthday,” you offer, turning the tv off and standing up. Ella’s fifth birthday is in a month.

“I have some ideas for her party that I’d like your opinion on,” Zach tells you. “Do you want to stay for a few minutes? Or I can just text you.”

“I can stay.”

He’s relieved to hear it. He doesn’t have many moments with you alone. Usually you’re like passing ships in the night, chatting for just a couple of minutes to catch each other up about Ella before one of you leaves the house, so any window of time with you is something he welcomes. Your presence is comforting.

You sit at the kitchen island together. Zach eats as you scroll through his phone, gazing at screenshots of party ideas he saved.

“Oh, she’d love this,” you say, stopping at a photo of ballerina-themed cupcakes. He gazes at you in awe as you look down at the screen. You’re genuinely delighted at the idea of giving his little girl a perfect birthday. “Do you want to have the party here?”

“Yeah, do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks.

“Yeah. If you’re worried about decorating or cleaning up, I’d come early and stay late,” you tell him, continuing to scroll. “She deserves something big.”

He nods, swallowing down his food, too distracted to go for another bite. He can’t wrap his head around how sweet you are. You have no connection to Ella at all, but you treat her like she’s yours. Sometimes more than her own mother did.

You’ve been here for nearly four months now, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t that long, but he likes that you have such a deep sincerity to you that he can trust that you care about Ella. That you won’t leave.

You look up at him and he glances away, worried he’s been caught staring, clearing his throat.

“Do you know how many people you’re thinking of inviting?” you ask as you hand him back his phone.

Zach’s face falls as he scratches the back of his neck. You’re suddenly tense, the air of familiarity between you now thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” he says.

“Sorry,” you say, nervous you crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “Sorry. I’ve just been going back and forth on whether I should invite her grandparents. From her mom’s side, I mean.”

“That must be hard,” you empathize.

“They’ve offered to visit a few times, but Ella hated the idea. She doesn’t even want to talk to them on the phone.”

“Was she like that before?” You don’t have to spell it out for him to know what you mean by before. The topic of Ella’s mom’s abandonment has been a silent cloud hanging over both of you.

“No,” Zach says. “I think she makes the connection that they’re her mom’s parents and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her.”

His lips close into a firm line.

“Well, I admire how you respect her comfort level and let her make decisions,” you say. “Maybe you start the conversation about who to invite and mention the grandparents to gauge her reaction?”

Zach nods, trying not to let his heart get carried away with the way it pounds from your words. He’s received compliments on his parenting from his friends and family, but you see the type of father he is more than anyone else these days. He cares about your opinion and it feels good to hear you approve.

“That’s a good idea,” he says. His fork clatters against his dish and he takes a deep breath before asking what’s been spinning in his head. “I figure you’d tell me, but… she hasn’t mentioned her mom, has she?”

You shake your head no. His forehead wrinkles in concern and it sends a pang to your chest. You lean a little closer, crossing the invisible boundary between you for the first time.

“She could just be processing,” you tell him. “And it might take her a while to talk about it. But she’s okay. She’s resilient. She got it from you.”

Zach hopes that he’s not blushing, but his cheeks are burning. He’s sure you’d be able to tell, but thankfully, you look down and stand straight again, as if what you just said wasn’t one of the most significantly unforgettable things he’s ever been told.

Ella is practically a physical copy of her mother. Zach never minded. But hearing that you think his daughter inherited his adaptability, one thing he’s always prided himself on, feels good.

He wasn’t very confident that he’s been doing a great job at adjusting since Jade left and you just lifted a weight off his shoulders without even realizing it.

“Thank you,” he says. You desperately want to ask how he’s been since his wife left, but you’re afraid you’ve already crossed a line with your boss tonight and you certainly don’t want to risk doing it again.

“Sure,” you reply. “I should go. But I’ll let you know if I think of any ideas for the party. I think the ballerina theme is the way to go. This place will be so pink.”

Zach laughs, trying to ignore the way his chest hollows when you expand the distance between you, stepping away.

“Can’t wait,” he says. “Thanks for dinner.”

“There were leftovers,” you reply, even though both of you are already well aware that every time you say that, it’s not true.

────୨ৎ────

It’s only half an hour into Ella’s birthday party and you’re spent. You’re reaching for napkins from the cupboard to clean up a spill in the dining room. When you turn out of the kitchen, a girl runs past you, tripping and accidentally pouring most of her juice onto your dress.

“Sorry,” she says worryingly, eyes wide as she stares up at you.

“It’s okay,” you reply with a giggle, dabbing at the fabric with one of the napkins. “I came prepared.”

Zach just entered the room, witnessing the moment, wondering if he’s ever going to see you do anything that won’t just push him deeper into his crush on you. But once again, his head is no match for his heart when it comes to you.

He’s been trying not to lose his mind today and it’s not because of the chaotic party that’s taken over his house. It’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in a dress. While it’s appropriate for the occasion, it shows enough of your figure to make his mouth go dry.

You toss the napkin in the garbage, collect more, then start to make your way to the dining room, looking up to find Zach’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say over the noise. He realizes that your voice somehow settles his pulse and makes it race at the same time. “There might not be enough napkins in the world for this party.”

“Invite everyone she wants,” he teases, imitating the way you convinced him to go along with Ella’s idea to invite all twelve kids from her ballet class.

“I take it back,” you chuckle. When you move past him, the fresh scent of his cologne dances over you and it’s so nice that you don’t want to leave his side. But you shake away the thought and tidy up the spill, then head to the living room to mingle.

It’s better to keep your distance from Zach. You have to remind yourself of it almost every day now. You’d been spending more time together to plan Ella’s party and at this point, it’s actually frustrating how kind and funny and charming and perfect he is.

It took a few evenings of party-planning at the house, your voices low as Ella slept upstairs, to start to get to know each other outside of your job. You’ve learned little things about him, like that he’s left-handed, and that he has a sister ten years younger than him and growing up with her helped him practice parenting, and that he likes a cup of tea before bed because it relaxes him.

You also noticed that he drifts into a more timid version of himself whenever the topic of his profession comes up. You’d mentioned that Ella could eventually grow an interest in soccer, that you’d take her to one of his home games if she wanted, and he nodded with a shy smile, saying he liked the idea.

Every side of him is intriguing, and while your conversations haven’t fallen into anything too personal, you want to know more about him past the friendly distance that stands between you.

Ella quickly darts past Zach in the kitchen and he reminds her that tag is an outside game. He’s relieved that she seems happy and careless today.

He’d asked her about inviting her mom’s parents and she answered with a quiet no. He called them to tell them that this birthday would be too difficult to celebrate together and they understood, opting to send a present in the mail.

Zach is glad he took your advice. As he rounds the corner, he sees you chatting with Ella’s friend’s dad. You probably know him from ballet. Zach has spoken with him, too. He knows the man is divorced.

Jealousy swirls in his chest. He shouldn’t care about you talking to another man. Even though you’ve started to share more about your lives with each other and he’s pretty sure you’re single, you could have a boyfriend you haven’t mentioned.

Again, while he tells himself not to feel things for you, it’s so much easier said than done. He has to look away, wondering why he feels like someone who’s not even his is being taken from him.

All the stress leaves your body the minute the last attendee leaves through the front door. It was a great party, but it was exhausting.

Ella’s eating her dinner as you, Zach, and his family tackle the mess. You make conversation with her while you clean the kitchen, happy to hear her rave about what a good birthday she had.

She asks if you can cuddle her for bedtime. Zach overhears and trudges into the kitchen, crumpled decorations in his hands. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and you try to ignore the fact that the mere sight of his forearms makes your stomach go numb with butterflies.

“It’s been a long day,” he says to you quietly. “I can take bedtime.”

“I got it,” you reply. He mirrors your smile. You like that he’s not the type of parent to be bitter that his own kid prefers you sometimes. He’s just happy that Ella’s happy.

When you’re leaning back in Ella’s bed, chatting as you wait for her to doze off, her arm is draped over your body and her cheek is on your shoulder. She’s grown to be totally comfortable with you, always taking the opportunity to be affectionate.

Your eyelids are heavy as you ramble about what she’ll be doing with her grandparents and aunt in the next few days, as they’ll be staying in town for a bit. Zach gave you the next three days off since childcare will be covered.

“I heard your grandma say something about taking you to the beach tomorrow,” you tell her. “Are you excited?”

“Will you come, too?” she asks. You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head.

“I have work, remember?” you tell her. You and Zach had decided long ago that you don’t want to tell her you’re paid to be here, that your job is taking care of her. You always just refer to yourself as her dad’s friend.

“Okay,” she sighs. She lets out a big yawn. “If I tell someone my birthday wish, will it not become true anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure the rule is that you can tell one grown-up,” you play along, “and it’ll still come true.” She nuzzles in. You assume she’ll mention a gift she wanted but didn’t receive today.

“I wished that you were my mommy,” she mumbles into the dark.

Your throat tightens and your heart sinks and you hate that the sweet, innocent child clinging onto you has to carry the weight of being abandoned. You kiss the top of her head again and try not to cry.

“I love you, okay?” you tell her. She nods and squeezes you tighter and within minutes, her breathing grows deeper.

When you head downstairs, you see that almost all of the mess has been tidied up. Zach is hauling a full garbage bag to the front door, giving you a tired smile when he sees you.

“Do you need any help with–”

“Go home,” he interrupts, faking irritation. You laugh in defeat.

“Fine.” You step into the living room to say goodbye to his family, antsy to have some time to yourself so that you don’t have to force down your tears any longer.

A few seconds after the door shuts behind you, Zach remembers that he’d set aside a container of leftover treats from the party for you.

You pace down the sidewalk into the cool evening air, unlocking your car remotely, unable to stop your tears from building. When you hear Zach call your name, you quickly wipe at your eyes, realizing you’ve smudged your make-up.

“There were leftovers,” he says when you turn to look at him.

“That’s my line,” you try to joke. You take the container. “Thanks.”

He notices the shine in your eyes immediately.

“Are you alright?” Zach asks softly. You gaze up at him, heart breaking a little more at the concern in his expression.

“Just a busy day,” you tell him.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Or– yeah, but I was going to tell you later. Without the tears.” You offer a pathetic laugh to break the tension, but he’s too worried to laugh, too.

“What is it?” he asks.

You look up to Ella’s bedroom window. The first time you’d walked up to this house, you were oblivious to the fact that the two people living in it would steal your heart. You know you need to tell him what his daughter said. But you’d hoped you’d have more time to process it.

“Before bed,” you say, your voice thin, “she told me she wished I was her mom.”

It takes all the air out of Zach’s lungs. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s without words. He crosses his arms, looking down at the pavement.

“I know. It’s a lot,” you mumble. Your temples ache as more tears build up, frustrated that this is Zach and Ella’s reality. “It just makes me so sad. I don’t want to say anything bad about your ex-wife, but I don’t understand how she could just leave you two. Has she not called to check in on her? Or to wish her a happy birthday?”

Your heart starts to thrum even harder. Your words were impulsive, surprising you even though you’re the one who said them, and the fear that you just crossed a line and exposed your feelings for him rushes through you.

“No,” is all Zach is able to say. He stares at you, speechless, biting the inside of his cheek.

“When Ella said… what she said, I told her that I love her,” you say. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” he says, his tone tender. Your lips twist into a sad smile. You want to hug him. But you step back. Because he’s still your boss and you don’t want him to think you can’t remain professional. You’re already anxious and regretful that you brought up Ella’s mom.

“Thank you,” you say. “I should go. Good night.”

Zach’s dazed the rest of the evening. He watches you drive off. He goes back inside to finish cleaning up. He spends time with his parents and sister, but soon heads upstairs to sleep, too distracted to keep up conversation.

His mind keeps him awake as he lies in bed. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, watching the shadow of the trees by his window rustle in the wind. In a matter of a minute, your relationship reached a new level of vulnerability.

And now that he has time to wade through his feelings, beneath the pain he feels for Ella and what she told you, he can’t deny that his heart fluttered when you said you don’t understand how someone could leave him and his daughter. Maybe you feel the same way about him.

This is not just a crush. He’s falling for you.

────୨ৎ────

You stare at the text Zach sent you a few minutes ago as you brush your teeth the next morning.

Sorry for bothering you on your day off but Ella has asked me about 50 times (give or take) if I can ask you to come to the beach today. I told her you’re busy but you know her. No pressure but we’d all love to have you. Would count as a work day, of course.

It was already hard to keep your feelings for Zach at bay when all you can think about is his smile and his voice and the way he makes you feel more comfortable than any man ever has, but now, you’re afraid it might be awkward when you see him. You’d said something so heavy last night, then left abruptly.

Nonetheless, the love you have for Ella and the love you’re starting to have for Zach is louder than the worry you’re feeling.

You reply: Don’t count it as work. It’s how I’d like to spend my day off. When and where?

A minute later, he sends you the address and time.

It’s late morning when you text Zach that you’ve arrived at the beach. He heads to the parking lot, leaving his parents, sister, and daughter by the shoreline so that he can speak to you alone. He hates that he was too in shock to thank you last night. But it was all so much to take in.

He spots you pulling a bag out of your trunk, greeting you with a soft “hey” to not startle you. It’s so nice to know that you’re here because you want to be.

You turn to see Zach in his swim shorts, his hair wet, water droplets scattered atop his muscles. You close the trunk, hoping he didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered.

“Hey. What’d you tell Ella about the ‘work’ I had today?” you ask, trying to establish a lighthearted tone. “Did my boss let me leave early?”

“We can say that,” he says with a smile. “He sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. It’s my other boss that’s kind of a nightmare,” you joke.

Zach takes you in, squinting a bit.

“You don’t really think of me as your boss, do you?” he asks, realizing he hates the implication. It makes him feel like even thinking about you as more than a friend is deeply unethical. Like there’s a power imbalance and he’s taking advantage of it somehow.

You still for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it, but aren’t you?”

“I guess.” His brows furrow. “It just doesn’t sound right.”

“How about we say… Ella’s my boss? And yours, too, now that I think about it.”

Zach laughs, “That works for me.” He nervously crosses his arms. “Uh… before we go, I wanted to thank you for handling last night so well. I think you said exactly what she needed to hear.”

Your face drops slightly. Remembering the way Ella sounded when she told you her wish, resigned but hopeful, breaks your heart every time you think about it.

“Of course,” you say. It’s a relief that he’s not upset about anything you said. “Is she doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Being her usual self. I didn’t tell her you were coming, so she’ll be excited.” The way you smile at the idea of making her happy is something he’s grown to adore about you.

You make your way to the shoreline, and as expected, Ella squeals when she sees you, running straight for you. You crouch to hug her tightly, thrilled that you were invited today.

You sit on a line of towels with Zach and his parents and his sister while Ella explains to you what kind of sandcastle she wants to make. You make conversation with everyone over the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and eventually, you point out a small rubber ball by the cooler.

“You wanna play soccer?” you ask Ella.

“I’m not good at it,” she replies.

“You have the best coach right here,” you say, pointing to Zach. “Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can all work together to score a goal against your dad.”

Zach smiles in surprise when Ella actually agrees. You help him create a makeshift goal line with pebbles and shells as Ella kicks the ball over the sand with her grandparents and aunt. After you set up, you join Ella while Zach makes an exaggerated show of stretching.

“Is that how you always warm up?” you ask him.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he answers. Ella laughs as he dramatically stretches. By now, you can tell by the type of dad he is that he was always on the playful side.

Ella imitates his stretching, then determination flashes over her face and she darts forward to try to kick the ball past him without warning. Zach pretends to be too slow to react, reaching after the ball has already whizzed past him, and lets out a defeated groan.

He picks his daughter up as she jumps in victory, jokingly demanding she tell him when she got so good at soccer. You smile as you watch them share a moment of joy in the sun.

“Ella, would you ever want to go to one of your dad’s games?” you offer.

“Yeah!” she exclaims.

“Yeah?” Zach says. “Why don’t you say yeah whenever I ask?”

“Just take the win, Zach,” you say with a laugh. He grins, loving the way his name sounds when it comes from you.

You enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking with Zach’s family, playing with Ella, catching glances at Zach when he’s not looking. They invite you to dinner, but you politely decline, figuring you should give them time alone. You thank them for the fun and go home feeling lighter than you did when you woke up.

That evening, as Connie helps Zach clean up after dinner, she mentions how good you are for Ella. He glances down at his mom as she hands him a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.

“She really is,” Zach agrees.

“I think she’s good for you, too,” she says with a hint of a smile.

“Real subtle, Mom,” he chuckles nervously. “It’s not like that.”

“Alright,” she says with an unconvinced tone. She takes a beat. “I just need to say–”

“Of course you do,” he mumbles with an amused smirk.

“–that I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she speaks over him. “I haven’t seen you be you. But you are again, especially when she’s around. It’s just nice to see you smiling so much again. I know things have been tough for you.”

Zach’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His mom is right; things have been tough, even before Jade left. He desperately wanted companionship, to at least come home to someone he could call a friend, but Jade couldn’t give him what he needed. He hasn’t felt full of life in a long time. Not until you knocked on his door.

“I’m better now,” he says.

Connie nods, sadness filling her features as she pulls Zach in for a side-hug.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he consoles her. “Don't worry about me.”

“You’re a parent. You should know the worrying never stops.” She pulls back. “So, you’re really going to deny it? I see the way you look at her.”

Zach shakes his head with an exaggerated scoff.

“You’re relentless,” he jokes.

“You used to tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “She looks at you the same way, you know.”

“Mom.”

Connie laughs and hands him another plate. He knows that the idea of you looking at him the way he looks at you won’t leave his mind any time soon.

(part two)

[evilminji]

You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

[hearts4hughes]

JEALOUS LOVER | CORIOLANUS SNOW

young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: coriolanus battles to control his possessive and jealous nature when seeing you with a friend.

note: i’m aware that coriolanus is such a terrible person, but it doesn’t help that they casted tom blyth (the definition of perfect) as him. i couldn’t fight the urge to write about him and i’m glad i didn’t! hope you enjoy!

warnings: borderline toxic relationship?, jealousy, angst w/ a happy ending, fluff, gets a little steamy towards the end (🙈)

coriolanus watched from a distance, his piercing eyes fixated on your every move. as you engaged in conversation with sejanus, a fleeting smile playing on your lips, a storm brewed in his gaze. his jaw clenched; eyes, once crystal blue, were now dark and stormy.

discomfort envelops him, triggering nausea through his chest; he refuses to be treated like a child. however, the simple act or even the notion of you interacting with another man, fuels a visceral anger: clenched fists, muscles tense, poised to eradicate any man who even looks in your direction.

“you’re so funny, sejanus.” you laughed, your hand lightly grazing his bicep. the action was subconscious. a platonic movement that made no one bat an eyelash.

well, except for coriolanus.

his tongue ran over his teeth as he shook his head, trying to control himself. self-control, he repeated over, and over again in his mind. he’d learn how to control himself at such a young age. to know how to mask any emotion in order to appear professional and calm. but one look at you laughing and touching another male had him forgetting all of his previous lessons.

taking a deep breath, he made his way over to you. his attempt to remain composed was unsuccessful. his fair skin was painted deep shades of red; his breath was heavy with anger; his eyes narrowed as he shot daggers at sejanus.

“hi coryo!” you smiled, taking note of his tense stature. “we were just catching up.” your hand motions towards sejanus who greets him. the blonde nods, not impressed with the whole situation.

self-control.

“well, we better get going.” he stated simply, checking his watch. “it’s getting late and i don’t want y/n and i to walk home in the dark.” he feigned a tightlipped smile. your brows furrowed in confusion. it was nowhere near sunset, what had the boy in such a hurry?

“it was nice to see-” your words were cut short as coriolanus grabbed your arm, pulling you away from sejanus and towards the exit. your head turned between both boys before sending sejanus a pitiful smile to which he returned.

as coriolanus whisked you away, the corridor echoed with the abruptness of his hurried steps. his grip on your arm, firm yet possessive, spoke volumes.

the walk home was practically silent. tension sat in the air weighing down both of your shoulders. your gaze remained fixed on coriolanus’s side profile. meanwhile, his eyes remained focused on the sidewalk, meticulously scrutinizing the cracks and crevices in the concrete as if searching for answers in their patterns.

finally, you broke the grueling silence. “coryo, what’s wrong?” your hand finds its way to his, intertwining your fingers. coriolanus, his gaze momentarily lifting from the sidewalk, met your concerned eyes. the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift slightly. his jaw tightened, but his eyes softened, revealing a vulnerability beneath his anger. “it’s nothing,” he muttered, the words carrying the weight of something untold.

your brows furrowed in gentle concern, “you can talk to me. you know that right?” at this point your walking comes to a halt. your hand raises to brush his platinum curls away from his face. he nods, but he doesn’t dare meet your gaze— too ashamed of his pathetic insecurities. at last, he lets out a huff, caving into the warmth of your touch and the sweetness of your words.

“i just… i didn’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted, his tone laced with vulnerability and possessiveness.

“with sejanus?” you inquired.

“yes!” although he raised his voice, his tone was still hushed— embarrassed even. “seeing you with him today, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm, made me,” he paused to take a deep breath, “it all made me jealous.” your hand found its way to his face, your fingers brushing his cheeks soothingly.

“coryo, there’s no need to be jealous,” you reassured, your voice a gentle melody. “there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you.”

the words, a sweet offering of devotion, seemed to fan the flames within him. a smirk played on his lips, ego swelling with satisfaction as his eyes, once dark and stormy, now took on a smoldering gaze. a subtle shift in his demeanor was evident as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hands trailing dangerously close to your ass. without responding, coriolanus leaned in, his lips capturing yours with hunger.

the kiss was fiery and a desperate need for closeness. his hand slid sensuously along the curves of your waist, fingers tracing a path, as if claiming every inch of you. his lips moved with a skilled urgency, exploring the contours of your mouth. your tongues clashed together in each other’s mouths. the blonde swallowed your moans and whines, trapping them.

as you both reluctantly pulled away from the scorching kiss, a lingering heat hung in the air. a sly smirk played on both of your lips.

“you have no idea what you’re doing to me, y/n.” he said, breathlessly. “and i want you to remember that every inch of you is mine.” you smiled, not quiet realizing the toxicity of your boyfriend’s words. you were blinded by his sweet, pleasing words and his gorgeous face structure to even notice.

the rest of the walk was silent, but the air wasn’t filled with a lingering tension. no, if anything, it was filled with a newfound sense of lust and love.