#but my bet is it's probably going to get worse before it gets better

[sevensoulmates]

7x05 Eddie Spec (Claw arm call)

A lot of people have been talking about the promo and Buck's date (rightly, because !!!) but I haven't seen anyone talking about the rest of the promo with the dude with the claw hand being a speaker at a convention talking about "the secret to self-control" with the sign "I'm the boss of me" behind him, while his hand seemingly takes on a life on its own and tries to hurt him.

Given how we know this episode is gonna have a huge Eddie plot and will likely be Eddie-centric if not feature him heavily, and calls are usually supposed to reflect whatever is going on in the character's personal lives, I can't help but feel like this "self-control" convention is pretty interesting to see in relation to an episode where Eddie's going to be struggling with his relationship with Marisol (and maybe his sexuality subtextually).

Eddie and "self-control" have already had a tumultuous relationship over the course of the whole time he's been on the show. A lot of Eddie's personality is very restrictive, not allowing himself certain things either because he doesn't think he deserves it, or because he would rather sacrifice his own wants and needs in order to prioritize someone else's (usually Christopher's). Eddie's irrational need to always be in control of himself (hence why he was so in denial about his panic attacks) has caused him many many issues over the years, and while he's definitely started unpacking a lot of it, especially in regards to his military service and his relationship with his dad, he hasn't really done so in regards to his relationships, and I think that's on purpose.

"Self-control" is also "self-denial" which is also in the same vein as "repression" and I just can't help but feel like this call will likely mirror Eddie, in that the "hand that suddenly has a life of its own" and is now coming back to hurt the man, is a reflection of something within Eddie that he's tried desperately to control before, but will now take on a life of its own. When you deny yourself something, it's usually denying a desire of some kind. And I think that it's time that Eddie's desires that he's been so desperately trying to keep under lock and key for years will finally take on a life of their own, and the more Eddie desperately tries to wrangle it back inside, to shut it up, to stifle it, to deny it, the harder it will fight back and the worse it will hurt him in the process.

My prediction for that call is the second that man finally stops trying to control his arm will be the second he's free of whatever is "possessing" it. Because in actuality, the arm isn't being possessed, it doesn't have a life of its own (it may or may not be something medical idk but my guess is still that it's likely something psychological). The man's arm is a part of him. Just like Eddie's sexuality is a part of him. And Eddie can only find harmony in himself, and stop hurting himself by making choices he knows he doesn't actually want, when he stops trying to control the Unspoken thing inside him and lets himself be free.

I'm not saying Eddie's going to be having any big revelations in this episode, or that it's going to be resolved right away but this call will likely be a strong hint at where Eddie's story is going to go, and 7x05 will be just the start of it.

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel masterlist | miniseries masterlist

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prologue), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6).

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it ain't how ya wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your mouth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. my joel masterlist has 🍒 on virginity loss fics. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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[scarletwinterxx]

chase the cut - jeon wonwoo imagine

hello~ i've been wanting to write a med au for so long, i tried my best here so i hope you like it!🤍

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All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You bolt out of the room like your life depends on it.

Behind you, heavy footsteps follow, growing louder with each second. "Come back here!" Wonwoo’s usually calm voice has a sharp edge, but you don’t dare slow down

"It’s just a scratch!" you yell over your shoulder

"A scratch?!" Wonwoo sounds offended. "You’re a surgeon, and you’re bleeding! Do you hear yourself?"

Mingyu and Seokmin barely react as you sprint past them. Mingyu, sipping his coffee, raises a brow. "What did she do now?"

"She got a cut," Wonwoo answers, still in pursuit

Seokmin blinks. "A cut? We’re literally surrounded by scalpels and needles every day—why is he freaking out?"

You duck behind a chair, panting. "Because he’s a pediatric surgeon," you whisper dramatically. "He deals with tiny humans, not full-grown surgeons with minor injuries!"

Wonwoo rounds the corner, eyes locked on you. "You. Sit. Down."

Mingyu, ever the agent of chaos, casually blocks your escape route. "Just let him patch you up. Or keep running—I’m entertained either way."

Seokmin grins. "I say we take bets. Five bucks says he tackles her."

You glare at them. "Some friends you are."

Wonwoo takes a step forward, and you take a step back. It’s a ridiculous standoff in the middle of the hospital lounge.

"Do not make me chase you around the hospital," he warns.

You make a break for it. Seokmin and Mingyu laugh as Wonwoo groans and sprints after you. He catches you in less than five seconds. He’s faster than he looks, and before you can dodge, an arm wraps around your waist, effectively trapping you.

"Gotcha," he mutters, his breath warm against your ear

You squirm uselessly. "This is unfair! You have long legs!"

"You have terrible decision-making skills," he counters, steering you toward the nearest chair with ease. Seokmin and Mingyu watch like it’s their favorite reality show, Mingyu even grabbing a snack.

Wonwoo lets go just long enough to grab the antiseptic wipes, and that’s when the real panic sets in.

"Wait, wait, wait—just let me mentally prepare—"

"You had plenty of time to do that while you were running," he deadpans

The moment the antiseptic-soaked wipe touches your skin, you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted. "Ow, ow, OW—"

Wonwoo sighs. "You literally cut people open for a living, and you’re whining over this?"

Seokmin snickers. "Zero pain tolerance. It’s honestly embarrassing."

Mingyu nods sagely. "Every time she gets a paper cut, she acts like she’s been stabbed."

You glare at them through watery eyes. "This hurts—"

"It stings," Wonwoo corrects, holding your wrist firmly as you try to pull away. "Stay still before you actually make it worse."

You groan dramatically, but Wonwoo, ever patient, finishes patching you up despite your flinching and whining. When he’s done, he presses the bandage down with a little more force than necessary, just to be petty.

"There. All better," he says, finally letting go.

You cradle your injured hand and pout. "You’re mean."

Wonwoo exhales, exasperated. Then, softer, "You should be more careful." 

For a second, something unreadable passes between you. Then Seokmin ruins it. "So, who owes me five bucks? I said he’d tackle her, but technically, it was more of a grab—"

"Pay up, Seokmin," Mingyu smirks. "A catch is a catch."

You groan, while Wonwoo just shakes his head, rubbing his temples like he regrets ever being friends with you three.

As soon as Wonwoo walks out, probably to regain some of his sanity before starting his rounds, you finally relax. Big mistake because the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you feel it—the shift in atmosphere. You don’t even have to look up to know that Mingyu and Seokmin are staring at you with that look. The one that spells trouble.

Seokmin grins. "Sooo…"

Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows. "Are you two dating, or is Wonwoo just your personal on-call nurse?"

You groan. "Oh my god, not this again."

"Look, I’m just saying," Seokmin continues, leaning back like he has all the time in the world, "Wonwoo doesn’t act like that with anyone else."

"Yeah, I mean, I literally saw him step over a crying intern last week," Mingyu adds. "But the second you get a tiny little cut—"

"A painful cut," you interject

"—he’s running after you like you just lost a limb," Mingyu finishes, ignoring you

You roll your eyes. "He’s just like that."

Seokmin scoffs. "No, he’s not."

Mingyu hums. "Do you ever see him chase me down when I get hurt?"

"You get hurt on purpose for attention," you deadpan.

"Fair," Mingyu concedes. "But still. Wonwoo’s different with you."

You shake your head, standing up. "Whatever. I have patients to see."

As you reach for the door, Seokmin calls out, "Hey, don’t run too fast—wouldn’t want to scrape your knee. Wonwoo might carry you to the ER next time." Mingyu cackles as you slam the door on your way out.

It’s way past midnight—closer to 3 AM, when Wonwoo finally walks into the on-call room. His hair is slightly disheveled, white coat draped over his arm, and dark circles under his eyes deeper than before. It’s been a brutal shift.

Seokmin, who’s sitting at one of the desks, barely acknowledges his entrance, too focused on some patient charts. But Wonwoo doesn’t need to say anything. He just walks over to the bunk beds, takes one look at Mingyu—who’s sprawled out, snoring on the bottom bunk—and wordlessly yanks him off. With a loud thud, Mingyu hits the floor.

"Huh—?!" Mingyu startles awake, flailing like a fish out of water. "What the—?!"

"Get up," Wonwoo says flatly.

Mingyu groans dramatically, rubbing his eyes. "Dude, what is your problem—"

Wonwoo ignores him, already turning toward you. You’re curled up awkwardly on the couch, using a rolled-up hoodie as a pillow, arms folded in a way that guarantees you’ll wake up with at least three different cramps.

Wonwoo sighs. Then, in a tone much softer than the one he used on Mingyu, he murmurs, "Get in the bed."

You don’t stir at first, still half-asleep, but then you mumble, "‘M fine here…"

Wonwoo doesn’t buy it. "You’ll complain about back pain tomorrow, and we both know it."

Seokmin finally looks up, watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement. Mingyu, still half on the floor, blinks at Wonwoo, then at you. Slowly, a knowing smirk creeps onto his face.

"Ohhh," Mingyu hums. "This is why you pulled me off the bed."

Wonwoo doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he reaches down and lightly taps your arm. "Come on, just sleep on the bed."

You grumble but finally crack your eyes open, too exhausted to argue. Wonwoo steps back as you groggily push yourself up, stretching. You shuffle toward the now-empty bottom bunk, collapsing onto it with a sigh.

"See? Much better," Wonwoo murmurs, pulling the blanket over you without a second thought.

Mingyu and Seokmin share a look.

"Dude," Mingyu says once Wonwoo turns around. "You could’ve told me to move instead of dragging me off like a sack of potatoes."

"You wouldn’t have moved fast enough," Wonwoo replies.

Seokmin smirks. "So, she gets the ‘gentle tuck-in’ treatment while Mingyu gets yeeted off the bed? Interesting."

Mingyu nods, still rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, Wonwoo. Interesting."

Wonwoo gives them both an unimpressed look before muttering, "I’m going to sleep," and heading toward the other bunk.

Even with his back turned, he can feel their teasing grins.

You’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to another plane of existence. Or maybe you’ve died and are currently haunting the hospital as a sleep-deprived ghost. Either way, you’ve been awake for way too long over 32 hours, to be exact and your body is done.

Mingyu isn’t faring much better. He’s slumped over the shared office desk, forehead pressed against an open patient chart, lightly snoring. You’re half-sitting, half-melting into the couch, cradling a lukewarm coffee that does nothing to fight the exhaustion clawing at your soul.

And then because life isn’t unfair enough already, Seokmin walks in. Bright-eyed. Energized. Well-rested. The worst kind of person.

"Good morning, besties!" Seokmin chirps, stretching like he didn’t just take a whole day off.

You don’t even look at him. "I will kill you."

"I second that," Mingyu mumbles into his chart.

Seokmin gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. "Why the hostility? I thought you’d be happy to see me!"

"We hate you," Mingyu groans.

"You’re dead to us," you add.

Seokmin grins. "Wow, so much love in this room." He walks over and purposefully ruffles Mingyu’s hair, making him whine in protest. Then he turns to you, poking your cheek. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," you mumble. "Exactly what I needed to hear."

Seokmin flops onto one of the chairs, grinning. "You know what I did yesterday? Slept a full eight hours. Went out for brunch. Touched grass."

Mingyu lifts his head just to glare. "Leave. Now."

Before Seokmin can keep being insufferable, the door opens again. Wonwoo walks in.

And unlike Seokmin who is obnoxiously loud about being well-rested Wonwoo looks just as exhausted as you and Mingyu. His coat is slightly wrinkled, his tie is loosened, and there’s an untouched coffee in his hand that he’s clearly forgotten about. He glances at Seokmin who looks too refreshed to be tolerable then at Mingyu, who is back to pretending to be dead.

Then his gaze lands on you.

You blink at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Hey."

"Hey," Wonwoo murmurs. He steps closer, eyes scanning over you in that way he always does when he’s subtly checking if you’re okay.

"Did you sleep?" he asks.

You let out a weak, humorless laugh. "Did you?"

Wonwoo doesn’t answer. Instead, he sets his coffee down and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Seokmin—who has been watching the whole thing like a spectator at a soap opera—leans back with a smirk. "Wow, this is so interesting."

Mingyu groans, flopping back onto the desk. "Not now, Seokmin. I’m too tired for this."

Wonwoo ignores them both. He looks at you again, eyes softer now. "Eat something and get some rest."

"You too," you mumble, already sinking further into the couch.

Wonwoo exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows. "Ohhh, this is fun."

"You know what else is fun?" You finally turn your head to glare at Seokmin. "Murder."

Wonwoo just sighs again and walks over to the bunk beds, mumbling something about how all of you are hopeless. Mingyu groans like he’s been personally attacked when his pager starts beeping. He doesn’t even look at it just slams his forehead against the desk.

"No. No, no, no. I reject this," he mumbles against the wood.

You barely have the energy to process the noise until of course yours goes off too. You and Mingyu make eye contact, equally dead inside.

Seokmin, the only one without a pager going off, grins. "Wow. Couldn’t be me."

"I will end you," you mutter, already reaching for your coat.

Wonwoo watches silently as Mingyu sluggishly gets up, flipping his pager over to check the message. He sighs. "ER’s a mess. Multiple traumas incoming."

You check yours, blinking slowly as the words process in your sleep-deprived brain. "OR needs backup. Guess I’m heading there."

Mingyu looks at you, eyes drooping. "Want to switch? I don’t want to talk to families."

"Absolutely not."

Mingyu pouts but doesn’t argue. He drags himself to his feet, rubbing his face aggressively like that’ll give him the will to live.

Seokmin claps his hands together, looking way too cheerful. "Well, have fun, kids! I’ll be here. Rested. Thriving."

Mingyu flips him off on the way out.

You barely register Wonwoo standing beside you until he tugs at your sleeve. When you look up, he’s frowning slightly.

"You sure you’re okay?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You exhale. "No, but I don’t have a choice."

Wonwoo’s frown deepens like he wants to say something else, but before he can, a voice crackles over the intercom calling for additional surgeons.

You sigh, giving him a tired half-smile. "See you later."

Wonwoo watches as you head out, his jaw tightening.

Seokmin hums as the door closes behind you. "You know," he says, stretching out on the chair, "for someone who refuses to admit his feelings, you really don’t do a good job of hiding them."

Wonwoo shoots him a glare, but Seokmin just grins.

A few more hours later, Wonwoo rubs at his eyes as he shrugs on his coat, his shift finally over. He grabs his bag from the office, shoulders aching from exhaustion. Just as he’s about to leave, the door swings open, and Mingyu stumbles in, looking like he’s barely holding himself together.

"ER was hell," Mingyu groans, dropping onto the couch with a loud thud. "I think I aged five years."

"You already look thirty," Wonwoo says, deadpan.

Mingyu glares at him, too tired to argue. Instead, he waves a lazy hand. 

Then Wonwoo asks "Where’s she? OR still has her hostage?"

The other doctor nods "She hasn’t come back yet. She’s probably running on caffeine and spite at this point."

Wonwoo hesitates for a second before speaking. "Make sure she eats and gets some rest when she’s done."

Mingyu cracks one eye open, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. "You like her."

Wonwoo stares at him blankly. "Make sure she eats, Mingyu."

"You like her," Mingyu repeats, grinning now. Wonwoo doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mingyu calls after him.

"Home," Wonwoo mutters.

"Liar!" Mingyu shouts, but Wonwoo is already gone.

What feels like hours to Mingyu before you entered the room. You trudge into the on-call room, every bone in your body protesting. Your scrub top is slightly wrinkled, your hair is a mess, and you’re running on nothing but sheer willpower at this point.

Mingyu is already knocked out on the bottom bunk, snoring lightly. You barely spare him a glance before collapsing onto the couch.

That’s when you notice it.

On the small coffee table, there’s a neatly packed meal. Your favorite.

You blink, staring at it like it’s a mirage. There’s even a bottle of water next to it, condensation still fresh, like someone just left it there.

Curious, you reach out and poke at the food, half-expecting it to disappear. When it doesn’t, you frown.

"Who…?" you murmur to yourself.

Mingyu shifts on the bed, groaning. "Shut up and eat."

You glance at him. "Did you get this?"

He grunts, eyes still closed. "Nope."

You pause. "Then who—?"

Mingyu cracks one eye open, smirking lazily. "Who do you think?"

That stops you. Your brain, sluggish from exhaustion, takes a moment to process.

Then it clicks.

Wonwoo.

You stare at the food, heart doing something weird in your chest.

Mingyu snickers before rolling over. "Just eat, dumbass."

You don’t argue. But as you take the first bite, you can’t help but think about a certain pediatric surgeon who definitely isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is.

You exhale, shaking your head to yourself. Subtle, Jeon.

Mingyu shifts on the bed again, cracking one eye open. "You’re thinking too hard about this," he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You stab at your food with your chopsticks. "No, I’m not."

"Yeah, you are."

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. "Go back to sleep."

Mingyu hums lazily, but then he adds, "He does this all the time, you know."

You pause mid-bite. "What?"

Mingyu smirks, barely awake but still committed to being a menace. "Making sure you eat. Checking if you’re okay. Wonwoo’s always been like that… but only with you."

Your stomach does something stupid at that. "That’s not true."

Mingyu chuckles, shifting onto his side. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

You open your mouth to argue, but Mingyu’s already passed out again, snoring softly. You sigh, leaning back on the couch. The food is warm, comforting, and frustratingly thoughtful.

You try not to think about it too much. You fail.

It’s another long shift for you.

After parting ways with Seokmin, you make your way to the nurses’ station, hoping to check on some charts before heading back to the on-call room. You’re running on fumes at this point, but the habit of making sure everything is in order before you crash is too strong to ignore.

As you approach, you hear a group of nurses talking in hushed but excited tones. You don’t think much of it until you catch a familiar name.

“Dr. Jeon is so amazing,” one of them gushes, practically sighing. “Did you see him with that little boy’s parents? He was so gentle and reassuring.”

“I know! And he’s always so calm, no matter how bad things get.”

“Not to mention how good he looks in scrubs,” another nurse adds, and they all giggle.

You freeze mid-step, blinking.

Are they seriously—?

“I swear, if he wasn’t so intimidating, I’d totally ask him out.”

“Right? But he’s always so serious. Like, have you ever seen him smile?”

“Only sometimes. But guess what?” The first nurse leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I did see him smile today.”

“No way. When?”

“When he was talking to Dr. Y/N.”

Your stomach drops.

Oh no.

“Oh my god, wait, you’re right! He actually looked... softer?”

“And she’s the only one he ever seems to talk to outside of work stuff.”

Another nurse sighs dramatically. “That’s so unfair. Do you think they’re, like, a thing?”

Your brain short-circuits. You have got to get out of here. Clearing your throat loudly, you step into their line of sight, making them jump. “Hey, uh… I just need to check some charts.”

The group scrambles, trying to look busy, but you can feel their eyes on you, filled with curiosity and knowing looks. Great. Just great.

As you grab the nearest patient file, you swear you hear one of them whisper, “Oh my god, she totally heard us.”

You pretend you didn’t.

You nearly drop the patient file when a rolling chair suddenly appears beside you.

“So,” Seokmin drawls, arms crossed as he lazily spins in the chair, “how do I break it to them that Wonwoo is a total softie for you?”

You glare at him, pressing a hand to your racing heart. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?”

Seokmin grins, completely ignoring your complaint. “Seriously, though. They think he’s this untouchable, brooding genius, but we both know he turns into a golden retriever when it comes to you.”

Your eye twitches. “He does not—”

Seokmin cuts you off with an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my god, you’re in denial.”

You slap his arm with the patient file. “I am not.”

He just laughs, rubbing his arm. “Y/N, I literally watched him rip Mingyu off the bottom bunk just so you could sleep comfortably.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Okay, fine. That was suspiciously caring behavior.

Seokmin smirks, clearly enjoying your inner struggle. “And let’s not forget how he tells Mingyu to make sure you eat and sleep. Or how he leaves food for you. Or how he only ever gets flustered when it involves you.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “I hate you.”

He pats your back like a supportive older brother. “No, you hate that I’m right.”

Before you can argue, one of the nurses clears her throat loudly, and you glance up to see them all very obviously pretending not to listen.

Seokmin leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “They’re totally listening.”

“I know, Seokmin.”

“Wanna give them a show? Maybe dramatically sigh Wonwoo’s name?”

You grab the patient file again and smack him with it. That’s when another doctor—Dr. Lee from orthopedics—walks up beside you.

"Dr. Y/N," he greets smoothly, offering a smile. "Haven’t seen you around much. Busy saving lives?"

You glance up, slightly caught off guard by the sudden conversation. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."

Dr. Lee leans casually against the counter, watching you with interest. "You should take a break sometime. Maybe grab a coffee?"

Oh. Oh.

Is he… flirting?

You don’t get the chance to react before you hear a loud, exaggerated cough from nearby. Seokmin is sitting just a few feet away, blatantly eavesdropping with zero shame. He’s pretending to look at a chart, but his expression is screaming Oh? What’s this?

You try to ignore him, forcing a polite smile at Dr. Lee. "That’s nice of you, but I’m actually running on negative sleep right now."

Dr. Lee chuckles. "All the more reason to step away for a bit. It’s just coffee, no pressure."

Seokmin lets out another obnoxious cough. "Thirsty, huh?"

You whip your head toward him, glaring. "Do you need medical attention, Seokmin?"

He grins. "Nah, I’m just—" he gestures vaguely between you and Dr. Lee "—observing."

Dr. Lee, bless him, is oblivious to the absolute menace that is Seokmin. "No worries. If you change your mind, let me know," he says with an easy smile before walking off.

The moment he’s gone, Seokmin wheels his chair over at full speed, stopping right beside you.

"So," he drawls. "Are you gonna tell Wonwoo, or should I?"

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. "Seokmin, I swear to god—"

Of course it didn’t take long. Mingyu and Wonwoo are lounging in the on-call room when the door slams open. Seokmin bursts in, cackling like a maniac, running full speed across the room.

And right behind him. You.

"LEE SEOKMIN, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Before he can reach the safety of the bunk beds, you launch yourself at him, nearly tackling him to the ground. Seokmin barely stays on his feet, wheezing through his laughter.

Mingyu, sitting up from the bottom bunk, blinks in confusion. "…Do we want to know?"

Wonwoo, sitting at the small desk, doesn’t even look up. "No."

Seokmin, still trying to escape your grip, gasps between laughs. "I—I was just helping!"

"You were eavesdropping and causing problems on purpose!" you yell, tightening your hold around his waist as he tries to wriggle free.

Mingyu perks up at that. "Ooh, what happened? Spill."

Seokmin dramatically falls onto the couch, bringing you down with him. "Our dear Y/N here was getting flirted with."

Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

Seokmin grins, panting slightly. "Dr. Lee. Ortho. Real smooth. Asked her to coffee."

Mingyu gasps like this is the most dramatic thing he’s ever heard. "And you tackled him over this?!"

"No, I tackled him because he ran in here to tell you two like a gossiping old lady!" you snap, still half on top of Seokmin, who is not helping by laughing even harder.

Mingyu turns to Wonwoo, who has yet to react. "Wonwoo. Thoughts?"

Wonwoo, still not looking up, simply flips a page in his book.  Seokmin wheezes. You groan, letting your head drop onto the couch.

Mingyu clutches his chest, looking between you and Wonwoo with pure delight. "Oh, this is better than a telenovela."

You push yourself up from where you were half-crushing Seokmin, brushing off your scrubs as you glare at him. Before you can properly scold him for being the absolute worst, Wonwoo finally speaks—completely nonchalant, like this whole thing isn’t ridiculous.

"He asked if you wanted coffee?"

You pause. Seokmin and Mingyu do not. Seokmin looks thrilled. Mingyu straight-up leans forward, eyes sparkling with interest.

You narrow your eyes at Wonwoo. "Why do you sound like that?"

Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his book. "Like what?"

Mingyu grins. "Yeah, like what, Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo flips a page. "Just asking."

You scoff. "You buy me coffee all the time"

Wonwoo hums. "Exactly."

Your brain short-circuits. "…Wait. What does that mean?*"

Wonwoo, still infuriatingly casual, finally glances up. "Nothing. Just seems unnecessary to get coffee with someone else when you already get it from me."

Seokmin and Mingyu explode.

"OH, THAT'S RICH—"

"DID HE JUST—"

You groan into your hands as they lose their minds. Wonwoo, unbothered, closes his book and stands. "I’m going to get coffee. You want one or not?"

Mingyu is on the floor laughing. Seokmin is gasping for air. And you—you are never going to hear the end of this.

Wonwoo, as unbothered as ever, grabs his ID badge and heads for the door.

Mingyu and Seokmin are still wheezing from his last comment, but you’re too busy processing to move.

He’s almost out when he pauses, tilting his head slightly. "Not coming?"

You cross your arms, still suspicious. "I think I’ll stay here and recover from whatever that was."

Wonwoo shrugs. "Suit yourself."

He steps out. You don’t follow but right before the door swings shut, you shout after him

"Caramel macchiato, extra shot, not too sweet!"

Seokmin and Mingyu stare at you. You stare back.

Then Mingyu loses it, laughing so hard he nearly falls off the bunk. "OH, SO YOU’RE NOT GONNA FOLLOW HIM, BUT YOU’RE STILL MAKING HIM GET YOU COFFEE?"

Seokmin clutches his chest, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Unbelievable. Absolutely shameless."

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "I hate you both."

Mingyu wipes fake tears. "No, you hate that you’re in too deep and we’re just here to witness it."

It’s your well-deserved day off, which means the hospital is not your problem for once. But unfortunately for Wonwoo, it means he is the problem of the two very nosy individuals stuck with him today.

Mingyu and Seokmin have been relentless since morning, waiting for the perfect opportunity to grill him—and the second they’re all in the on-call room, Seokmin strikes.

"So... you and Y/N."

Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his tablet. "What about her?"

Mingyu flops onto the couch dramatically. "You know exactly what about her."

Seokmin leans forward, grinning. "You act different around her."

"I don’t."

"Oh, you absolutely do," Mingyu says, propping his chin on his hand. "You let her get away with things you’d never tolerate from us."

Seokmin nods enthusiastically. "Like running away when she has a cut?"

"Or demanding coffee like she’s a queen and you’re her personal barista?" Mingyu adds.

Wonwoo finally glances up. "She doesn’t demand. I offer."

Silence.

Mingyu and Seokmin gasp.

"HE ADMITS IT!" Seokmin nearly topples over. "HE VOLUNTARILY GETS HER COFFEE!"

Wonwoo sighs. "You two have too much free time."

"And you have too much denial," Mingyu shoots back. "Be honest, if she asked for your left kidney, you’d at least consider it."

Seokmin laughs. "He’d have it prepped and ready before she even finished asking."

Wonwoo rubs his temples. "You’re both insufferable."

"And you’re in love," Mingyu sing-songs.

"I am not," Wonwoo deadpans.

Seokmin smirks. "Would you say no if she asked you out?"

Wonwoo doesn’t answer immediately, making the two guys exchange another look.

"Oh my God," Mingyu whispers. "You wouldn’t say no."

"Pack it up, folks, we got him," Seokmin grins. "That’s a wrap."

Meanwhile it’s your day off, technically you were supposed to be having a relaxing day off. No pagers, no surgeries, no Mingyu whining for coffee or Seokmin launching into dramatic gossip. Just a simple grocery run—bread, eggs, maybe even some overpriced snacks if you were feeling indulgent.

But fate, as usual, had other plans.

The sound of screeching tires and the crash of metal on metal jolts you from your thoughts as you step out of the store. A small crowd is already forming near an intersection, the sight of two badly dented cars making your stomach drop.

Then you hear it—panicked voices.

"She’s pregnant!"

Your body moves before your brain fully catches up. Pushing past stunned bystanders, you rush toward the most damaged car, where a man is frantically trying to pry open the passenger door. Inside, a woman—clearly pregnant—clutches her stomach, her face contorted in pain.

"Ma’am, can you hear me?" you ask, voice sharp with urgency.

She gasps, nodding weakly. "M-My baby—"

You glance around. The fire department isn’t here yet, neither are the paramedics. The door is crushed in, and she’s stuck.

Your pulse pounds, but you push the panic aside. Focus.

You turn to the man still struggling with the door. "We need to get her out, but carefully. Do you have something I can use to break the glass?"

He nods shakily, rushing to his car. Meanwhile, you crouch by the woman, speaking in a soothing tone even as your mind races through possible complications.

"You're doing great. Just keep breathing, okay? Help is coming."

She nods again, but her grip on her belly tightens.

You don’t have your scrubs, your hospital badge, or even your gloves. But right now, none of that matters because doctor or not—you have to help her.

You refuse to leave her side. Even as sirens wail in the distance and bystanders are urged to step back, you stay crouched next to the woman, monitoring her breathing, checking for signs of distress.

"You're okay. Just hold on," you murmur, your hand steady on her wrist, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your fingers. The first responders finally arrive, moving quickly to assess the scene. 

A firefighter rushes toward you. "Ma’am, we need to extract her now. You should move back."

"Not until she’s safe," you insist.

They're working on prying the door open when it happens—

An explosion.

A sudden BOOM rocks the area as flames burst from the wreckage. The force knocks you backward, and before you can react, shards of glass and debris fly straight toward you and the pregnant woman.

Your first instinct is to shield her. You duck, arms raised, making sure not a single piece touches her. She screams, but the paramedics quickly cover her with a thick emergency blanket.

You barely notice the sharp stings as glass embeds itself into your arm, your shoulder, a few grazing your cheek. The pain is secondary.

"She’s stable!" one of the EMTs shouts, carefully moving the woman onto a stretcher. "Let’s transport her now!" You exhale in relief, watching as they wheel her toward the ambulance. You step back, feeling a slight dizziness, but shake it off.

"Doctor?" One of the firefighters eyes you carefully.

"I’m fine," you say automatically.

The ambulance ride is a blur of flashing lights and hushed urgency. The paramedics work efficiently, monitoring the pregnant woman’s vitals as you sit beside her, keeping her calm. You press a gauze pad against one of the deeper cuts on your arm, but otherwise, you don’t acknowledge your injuries.

When the ambulance finally arrives at the hospital, the woman is rushed into the ER. You climb out right after them, rolling your stiff shoulders, determined to go check on her—

Only to run straight into Mingyu.

"Hey, we got a—" His usual laid-back tone vanishes the moment his eyes land on you. His brows shoot up. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I’m fine," you say immediately, waving him off. Big mistake.

The moment you move, dizziness washes over you. You stumble slightly, catching yourself against the wall.

Mingyu lunges forward. "Yeah, okay, fine people totally do that."

His eyes sweep over you. Your torn sleeve, the cuts littering your arm, the faint streak of blood on your cheek. "Are you serious right now?"

You sigh. "It’s not that bad—"

"Not that bad?" He gestures wildly at you. "You were supposed to be on your day off, not playing action hero in the middle of the street!"

Mingyu groans, already reaching for his pager. "Seokmin and Wonwoo are going to kill me."

Mingyu barely has time to react before your knees buckle.

"Oh, for—okay, nope, you’re done," he mutters, catching you before you hit the ground. His hands grip your shoulders, guiding you onto a nearby gurney despite your weak protests.

"I—I'm fine," you mumble, though the dizziness makes your head swim. The pain you’ve been stubbornly ignoring is very much making itself known now, sharp and stinging from every cut.

"Uh-huh, tell that to your blood loss," Mingyu huffs as he quickly assesses the wounds. "How are you this dumb?"

You try to glare at him, but it’s half-hearted at best. He just sighs, guiding you to the nearest vacant bed then grabbing antiseptics and bandages from a nearby tray.

"This is gonna sting," he warns, dabbing at the gash on your arm.

The burn makes you flinch. "Mingyu—"

But before you can complain, the door to the ER slams open.

"Where is she?"

Your stomach drops.

Wonwoo stands at the entrance, still in his scrubs, his chest rising and falling like he ran all the way here. His usual composed demeanor is nowhere to be seen.

The moment his eyes land on you—bruised, bloodied, and definitely not fine—his expression shifts into something dark.

"You have got to be kidding me," he mutters, storming over

Mingyu looks up but barely gets a word in before Wonwoo cuts in, voice tight. "What the hell happened?"

You open your mouth, but Mingyu beats you to it. "She was out running errands and decided to become a damn superhero. Got caught in a car explosion or something—"

"It wasn’t an explosion—" you try, but Wonwoo turns his glare on you so fast you shut up.

"You refused to tell anyone you were hurt?" Wonwoo’s voice is low, laced with barely contained frustration. "Do you even know how reckless that is?"

You blink at him, a little caught off guard. Wonwoo gets annoyed, sure—but this? This anger? This fear simmering under his words?

Mingyu shifts awkwardly. "Uh, so, I’ll just—keep cleaning these wounds?"

Wonwoo ignores him.

"You should’ve been treated immediately," he snaps. "You could’ve gone into shock, Y/N. You could’ve—" He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

You swallow, voice quieter now. "I had to make sure she was okay."

Wonwoo stares at you for a long moment. His jaw clenches. Then, without another word, he grabs the antiseptic from Mingyu’s hand and kneels down beside you.

"Hey, I was—" Mingyu starts

"You’re taking too long," Wonwoo says flatly, inspecting your arm.

Mingyu throws his hands up. "Oh, I’m the problem? Sure, yeah, okay."

But you don’t pay attention to Mingyu anymore—because Wonwoo is suddenly so close, his fingers gentle as he carefully tends to your wounds. The frustration is still in his eyes, but his touch is steady, precise.

You wince when he presses the gauze against a deeper cut, and his grip instinctively tightens around your wrist. His voice softens, just a fraction.

"I don’t care how capable you are," he mutters. "Don’t ever do that again."

You bite down hard on your lip, willing yourself not to cry. But the antiseptic burns, and the way Wonwoo presses down on your wounds with such precision makes it impossible to ignore the sharp sting.

Your eyes start to prickle. You will not cry. You refuse.

Mingyu, ever the observant one, notices immediately. He leans in slightly and mumbles, “Hey, man, she’s already injured. You’re making her cry.”

Wonwoo freezes.

Your head snaps up. “I am not crying.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “You sure? You kinda look like you’re about to.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his temple. “Mingyu, stop talking.”

Mingyu just shrugs, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m just saying, maybe be a little gentler? You know, since you care so much.”

Wonwoo pointedly ignores him, but his grip on your arm loosens just slightly, his movements becoming even more careful. He still looks pissed, but his touch is softer now, like he’s trying to make up for it.

You try to focus on anything other than the fact that your face feels ridiculously warm.

Mingyu stands, stretching with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, I’m gonna check on the woman since someone needs to be useful around here.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare. “I’m useful.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell that to your blood loss.” He waves you off, throwing Wonwoo a quick glance before walking out, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence that follows is heavy. Wonwoo is still focused on cleaning your wounds, but his jaw is tight, and his movements though gentler now are still a little too precise.

You watch him for a second before speaking. “You’re really mad, huh?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “No.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

His grip tightens just slightly before he lets out a quiet, frustrated sigh. “…Yes.”

You shift a little, suddenly feeling weird under his gaze. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Wonwoo finally looks up at you, and the way his eyes darken makes you shut up real quick.

“Not that bad?” he repeats, voice low. “You were in an accident, Y/N. You got caught in a literal explosion.”

You try to brush it off. “It wasn’t that big—”

"You were bleeding and didn't even think to get yourself treated first."

You falter. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, like he’s trying really hard to rein himself in.

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen people come in, thinking they were fine, only to collapse later?” His voice is quieter now, but it’s laced with something heavier. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Wonwoo’s gaze softens—just barely—before he looks back down, carefully placing the last bandage over your arm. His hands linger for a second, his fingers warm against your skin.

“…Just don’t do that again.” His voice is quieter now, almost pleading. “Please.”

You sniffle, trying to hold it in, but a few tears betray you, slipping down your cheek before you can stop them. Wonwoo notices immediately. His hands, still hovering near your arm, tense.

“Hey—”

You quickly wipe at your face, sniffling again. “I’m fine.” Your voice wobbles, completely betraying you.

Wonwoo exhales through his nose, and before you can react, he’s reaching for the tissue box nearby, wordlessly handing you one.

You take it, mumbling, “Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in a small voice, you ask, “Is the woman okay?”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches you carefully before finally saying, “She’s stable. Mingyu’s checking on her now.”

You nod, squeezing the tissue in your hand. “That’s good.”

Wonwoo still doesn’t look away. His lips press together like he wants to say something else, but in the end, all he does is let out a quiet sigh.

“You should rest,” he says softly. “You lost some of blood, you might feel light headed”

You huff, forcing a weak smile. “You sound like me when I tell my patients that.”

He doesn’t smile back. Instead, he reaches out, hesitates, then gently presses his hand against your head, smoothing down a stray strand of hair. The touch is so light, so careful, that it nearly makes you tear up all over again.

“Then take your own advice for once.”

Before you can even process the warmth of Wonwoo’s touch, the door bursts open.

“OH MY GOD—YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Seokmin practically lunges toward you, arms wide like he’s about to hug-tackle you, but Wonwoo smoothly steps in his way, stopping him with a single hand to his chest.

“Seokmin.” Wonwoo’s voice is flat. “She’s injured.”

Seokmin blinks, then gasps like he’s just realized something. “YOU’RE INJURED?!”

You stare at him, deadpan. “Did you think I was just here for fun?”

Seokmin dramatically grips his chest. “I—I just thought maybe you were being dramatic again! But you actually got hurt?!”

Wonwoo sighs, stepping aside because, at this point, there’s no stopping Seokmin. Sure enough, he leans down, carefully inspecting your bandages like a concerned mother.

“How bad is it? Are you dizzy? Do you need water? Do you need me to spoon-feed you soup?”

You groan, pushing his face away. “I’m fine.”

Seokmin ignores you and turns to Wonwoo. “Doctor, will she survive?”

Wonwoo looks unimpressed. “She lost blood but nothing major. She just needs to rest.”

Seokmin gasps again, gripping your hand. “BE STRONG, MY FRIEND.”

You shove him. “You’re the worst.”

Seokmin sniffs dramatically, wiping an imaginary tear. “If you do die, can I have your favorite pen?”

Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose while you grab a pillow and throw it at Seokmin’s face.

After everything that happened, of course Wonwoo refused to let you out of his sight or atleast have someone watching over you while the three guys finish their shift.

After work, the four of you go to a barbeque place you're a regular at.

You’re all starving by the time you reach the restaurant, exhaustion from the day momentarily forgotten at the sight of sizzling meat and bubbling stews.

Mingyu and Seokmin are loud, bickering over who gets to grill first, while you just lean back in your seat, still pretending to sulk.

Wonwoo, sitting beside you, wordlessly places some meat on your plate before you can even lift your chopsticks. Then, as if it’s second nature, he reaches over and rolls up the loose sleeve of your hoodie, neatly tucking it to make sure it doesn’t dip into the sauces.

Mingyu pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking between the two of you.

Seokmin, in the middle of arguing over dipping sauces, suddenly stops and squints.

The most shocking part?

You don’t even react. You just pick up your chopsticks, casually eating the food Wonwoo put on your plate like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Mingyu slowly puts his chopsticks down. “Okay, hold on.”

Seokmin leans in. “Have you always been like this?”

You blink. “Like what?”

Mingyu gestures vaguely at you and Wonwoo. “That.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, sipping his water. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Seokmin waves his chopsticks between you two. “You’re basically a married couple and she doesn’t even blink when you baby her.”

You scoff, but before you can argue, Wonwoo speaks first. “She’d spill sauce on herself if I didn’t.”

Mingyu stares. “So you admit you’re babying her.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “She doesn’t complain.”

You shove a piece of meat in your mouth to avoid answering, but your reddening ears don’t go unnoticed. Seokmin and Mingyu exchange knowing looks before grinning at each other.

Oh, they’re never letting this go.

The two of you are crammed into the back of a small van, bumping along a dirt road on the way to the rural clinic. It’s too early, you’re running on barely any sleep, and Mingyu has already decided now is the perfect time to interrogate you.

“So.” He leans back against his seat, arms crossed, looking far too entertained. “You and Wonwoo.”

You groan immediately. “Absolutely not. We’re not doing this.”

Mingyu grins. “Oh, we’re definitely doing this. We have, like, four more hours to go.”

You glare at him, but he just continues. “I mean, come on. He feeds you. He rolls up your sleeves. He practically tracks your movements in the hospital without even trying. And you don’t even react anymore.”

“Maybe I’m just used to it.” You shrug.

Mingyu narrows his eyes. “That’s what I’m saying! You’re used to it. As in, it’s been happening for so long that you don’t even notice.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s just how we are.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Please. If Seokmin tried to do that for you, you’d stab him with your chopsticks.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, Seokmin deserves it.”

Mingyu ignores that. “Just admit it. You like him.”

You pause. Then, after a beat, you say, “Of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

Mingyu groans dramatically, flopping onto your shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

You shove him off. “And you’re annoying.”

He smirks. “I know. But I’m also right.”

You refuse to answer, choosing instead to look out the window. But you can’t shake the way your stomach flips at Mingyu’s words.

Mingyu stretches out his legs, looking way too comfortable for someone who’s supposed to be working. “Alright then, since you’re so sure it’s nothing—explain this to me.”

You sigh. “What now?”

He smirks. “Why hasn’t Wonwoo dated anyone since med school?”

You blink. “What?”

Mingyu tilts his head, looking far too smug. “I mean, Seokmin and I have dated around. You’ve had, like, two almost-relationships. But Wonwoo? Not a single girlfriend. No dates. No flings. No nothing.” He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that weird?”

You scoff. “Maybe he’s just not interested.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Nah. I asked him once, and you know what he said?”

You hesitate. “…What?”

Mingyu grins. “‘I don’t have time for that.’” He leans in, lowering his voice dramatically. “But I think the real reason is that he’s been too busy looking after you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

Because now that you think about it… Mingyu’s kind of right.

Wonwoo has never once shown interest in dating. Even during med school, when everyone else was either in relationships or at least going on dates, he never did. He was always around, always steady, always—

You shake your head. No. No way.

Mingyu watches you, eyes glinting. “Oh my god, you’re actually thinking about it.”

You shove him. “Shut up.”

He cackles. “I love being right.”

You groan, turning to the window to ignore him. But your heart is beating just a little too fast, and your mind keeps replaying Mingyu’s words.

Why hasn’t Wonwoo dated anyone?

And more importantly, why does the answer make your chest feel tight?

Once you’re done with the medical mission, you go back to the hospital. You push open the door to the on-call room, utterly drained from the long day. Mingyu had peeled off somewhere to check on the ER, but you went straight here, hoping to collapse onto the couch for at least a few minutes.

The room is dimly lit, quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. At first, you think it's empty—until your eyes land on Wonwoo. He’s at his desk, head slightly tilted down, eyes closed.

You pause, debating whether you should leave him be. But before you can take a step back, his voice—low and a little rough from exhaustion—breaks the silence.

"You're back."

You blink. "I thought you were asleep."

He opens his eyes, looking at you with that unreadable expression of his. "Just resting my eyes."

You scoff lightly, stepping further inside. "You say that like it’s any better."

Wonwoo watches you as you drop your bag onto the desk, stretching your arms over your head with a tired groan. You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers, just for a second, before he leans back in his chair.

"Long day?" he asks.

You sigh, rolling out your shoulders. "Very. Mingyu was extra annoying, as usual."

Wonwoo hums, amused. "What did he do now?"

You hesitate, suddenly remembering the entire conversation about him. About how Mingyu basically implied that Wonwoo hasn’t dated anyone because of you.

You glance at Wonwoo, who’s waiting for your answer with a neutral expression. And for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to bring it up.

“Just the usual nonsense,” you say instead.

Wonwoo doesn’t press, just nods before looking back at his desk. There’s a brief silence—comfortable, familiar. The kind you only get with someone you’ve known for years.

Then, softly, he says, “You should eat before you sleep.”

You glance at him, arching a brow. "Did you just give me my own advice?"

A small smirk tugs at his lips. "You never follow it yourself."

You shake your head, but there’s something warm in your chest that wasn’t there before.

Damn Mingyu. Now you can’t stop noticing things.

You drop onto the couch, exhausted but still watching Wonwoo out of the corner of your eye. He hasn't moved from his desk, but now you notice the way he's rubbing his temples, his brows slightly furrowed.

His glasses aren’t on, which is rare. Wonwoo without glasses usually means one of two things—either he’s about to sleep, or he has a headache.

Judging by the way he keeps pinching the bridge of his nose, it’s definitely the latter.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Mhm." He doesn’t look up, still rubbing slow circles into his temples.

You frown. "Did you even rest today?"

"I did," he says, but you don’t believe him for a second.

With a sigh, you push yourself up and walk over to him. He barely reacts when you place a hand on his shoulder, but he finally opens his eyes when you gently pull his hand away from his forehead.

"You have a migraine, don’t you?" you ask, squinting at him.

Wonwoo blinks at you, then exhales through his nose—something between amusement and surrender. "Just a small one."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Small enough that you’re sitting here rubbing your head like an old man."

He gives you a flat look. "Thanks."

Ignoring his sarcasm, you reach for his desk, rummaging through one of the drawers. You know he keeps medicine in here somewhere—he’s always prepared for everyone else’s headaches, just never his own.

After a few seconds, you find what you’re looking for and shake two pills into your palm before grabbing his forgotten water bottle. You hold both out to him expectantly.

"Take these."

He doesn’t move at first, just stares at you with that unreadable look again.

"Wonwoo," you say, more firmly. Finally, he sighs and takes the pills from your hand, swallowing them with a sip of water.

You nod, satisfied. "Good. Now go lie down before you pass out at your desk."

He exhales slowly, then mutters, "You’re bossy."

You smirk. "And yet you listen to me."

He doesn’t argue. Just shakes his head with the smallest hint of a smile before standing up. And for some reason, as he moves toward the bunk beds, you feel that warmth in your chest again.

You leave the room after turning the lights off to let him rest. You find Mingyu, maybe grab some late night snacks. As you and Mingyu walk through the hospital corridors, making casual conversation, a familiar figure approaches.

It’s him—Doctor Lee, the one who had flirted with you before.

Mingyu notices the way your shoulders tense and immediately perks up, eyes darting between you and Doctor Lee with barely concealed interest. "Oh, this should be fun," he mutters under his breath.

You shoot him a look. "Shut up."

Before Mingyu can tease you further, Doctor Lee reaches you, flashing that same confident smile.

"Hey, fancy seeing you again." His tone is smooth, casual, but there’s something pointed in the way he looks at you.

"It’s a hospital," you reply dryly. "You’ll probably see me a lot."

Mingyu barely hides his laugh behind a cough.

Doctor Lee, unfazed, chuckles. "Right. Still, I was hoping I’d run into you. Thought maybe this time I could convince you to grab a coffee with me?"

Mingyu freezes beside you, his head snapping toward you so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. He is way too interested in this.

You open your mouth to respond—politely decline, of course—but before you can, a voice cuts in.

"She already has a coffee supplier."

You turn your head just in time to see Wonwoo standing a few steps away, arms crossed, looking completely unimpressed. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it, something just sharp enough that it makes both you and Doctor Lee pause.

Mingyu, of course, is thriving.

"Oh, do you now?" Doctor Lee glances between you and Wonwoo, one eyebrow raised.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "Wonwoo, don’t—"

"She never has to ask. Her coffee order just appears," Wonwoo continues smoothly, ignoring you. "Sometimes with snacks too."

Mingyu wheezes.

Doctor Lee blinks, clearly trying to figure out if there’s something more to Wonwoo’s words. You’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s doing, but before the other man can press further, you exhale and take a step back.

"Anyway, I have rounds to finish," you say quickly. "See you around."

Before Doctor Lee can respond, you grab Mingyu’s sleeve and yank him along with you, leaving the poor guy standing there confused.

Mingyu is absolutely dying.

"Wonwoo totally just alpha-blocked that guy," he laughs, struggling to keep up with your fast pace. "Like, not even subtle. That was lowkey territorial."

You groan. "Don’t start."

"Oh, I’ve already started." Mingyu grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "So… your coffee supplier, huh?"

You don’t answer. Instead, you walk even faster, pretending you don’t hear Mingyu’s continued teasing all the way down the hall.

As you speed-walk down the hall, Mingyu still snickering beside you, you hear the sound of familiar footsteps following behind. You don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

You sigh dramatically, slowing your steps just enough to glance over your shoulder. "Weren't you suffering from a migraine?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo, walking at a completely casual pace as if he didn’t just interrupt an entire conversation to assert his place in your life, simply shrugs. "It went away."

Mingyu claps a hand over his mouth, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. He fails.

"Ohhh, interesting," Mingyu chokes out between laughs. "So you had a migraine, but the moment Doctor Lee showed up, you were suddenly fine? Wow. Almost like it wasn’t that serious to begin with."

Wonwoo shoots him a blank look. "Or maybe I just recovered."

"Right, right," Mingyu nods, "or maybe you just didn’t like what you were seeing."

You groan, rubbing your forehead. "Mingyu, please—"

"No, because listen," Mingyu continues, fully ignoring you now, "if I had a migraine, I would not be up and walking this fast just to make sure my ‘friend’—" he even throws up air quotes, "—wasn’t having coffee with someone else."

"I wasn’t walking fast," Wonwoo deadpans.

"Okay, but you were there," Mingyu counters. "Like, right there. That’s suspicious, man."

You throw up your hands. "Oh my God, both of you, stop."

Wonwoo just blinks, completely unbothered. "Do you still want coffee?" he asks, as if the last five minutes of chaos didn’t just happen. Mingyu wheezes again.

You groan even louder. "You are so annoying."

Later Wonwo drove you and Mingyu home. The car ride is quiet after Mingyu gets dropped off, leaving just you and Wonwoo. The city lights blur past the window, and you drum your fingers lightly on your thigh before finally speaking

"Hey."

"Hm?" Wonwoo doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but you know he’s listening.

"That thing Mingyu said … about you not dating anyone since med school—"

Wonwoo glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. "What about it?"

"Is it true?" you ask, shifting slightly to face him. "You really haven’t dated anyone all these years?"

He doesn’t answer right away, but you notice the way his fingers tighten slightly around the wheel. "I was busy," he finally says, voice even.

"We were all busy," you counter. "Mingyu dated. Seokmin dated."

Wonwoo exhales softly through his nose. "And you?"

You blink, caught off guard. "What about me?"

"Did you date?" He doesn’t look at you, but there’s something in his voice, something careful, deliberate.

You hesitate, then shrug. "Not really."

That makes Wonwoo glance at you, just for a second. "Why?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "Why are you answering my question with another question?"

"Because you’re deflecting," he replies easily.

You frown, arms crossing. "Maybe I just didn’t feel like it."

Wonwoo hums, the sound low and thoughtful. "Then I guess we’re the same."

That makes you pause. He’s right, in a way. You never thought much about dating, always too caught up in the chaos of work, of life. But hearing that he was the same—that he never even tried—makes something uneasy stir in your chest.

"So…" you start carefully, "was there really no one? Not even someone you liked?"

The streetlights cast long shadows over his face, and for a moment, you think he won’t answer. But then, softly—so softly you almost don’t hear it—he says,

"I wouldn’t say that."

Your breath catches, but before you can press further, the car slows. You realize, belatedly, that you’ve already arrived at your place.

Wonwoo shifts into park and finally, finally looks at you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes, something deep and quiet and there.

You swallow. "Wonwoo—"

"Go inside," he says gently, cutting you off.

You hesitate. The air feels heavy, thick with something unspoken.

But in the end, you don’t push.

"Okay," you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Drive safe."

He nods, watching as you step out and close the door behind you.

As you walk up to your building, you don’t turn back snd inside his car, Wonwoo stays parked for a long time, staring at where you were.

You’re never like this.

You’ve known Wonwoo for years, been friends with him for so long that his presence has always felt natural, something you never had to think about. But now? Now, after what Mingyu said, after what Wonwoo didn’t say, you’re noticing everything.

The way he automatically sets a coffee cup in front of you in the morning, the way he subtly reaches out like he’s ready to catch you when you take a sharp turn in the hallway, the way his eyes linger when you’re talking—like he’s listening to every word, even the useless ones.

It’s worse in the on-call room.

Wonwoo’s at his desk, writing notes, glasses perched on his nose. It’s a normal sight, something you’ve seen a thousand times before. But for some reason, today, you can’t stop looking. The way his brows furrow slightly in focus. The way he absentmindedly taps his pen against the desk. The way he reaches up to push his hair back, exposing his forehead just a little more.

Seokmin, lying on the bottom bunk, suddenly snickers. "You good over there?"

You snap your head toward him. "What?"

He grins, flipping through his phone lazily. "You’re staring."

"No, I’m not."

"Uh-huh."

Wonwoo, completely unaware, flips to the next page in his notes. You glare at Seokmin before quickly grabbing your own chart, pretending to focus. But even then, you’re way too aware of the fact that Wonwoo is right there.

And maybe you have been staring.

The moment you walk out, Seokmin doesn’t even wait.

He turns to Wonwoo with a slow grin, tossing his phone onto his chest. "So…"

Wonwoo doesn’t look up. "So?"

"She was staring at you."

That gets Wonwoo’s attention. He finally lifts his eyes from his notes, blinking at Seokmin. "What?"

"She. Was. Staring." Seokmin emphasizes each word like Wonwoo is dense. Which, honestly, he kind of is. "Like, full-on eyes stuck on you. If I wasn’t here, she probably would've burned a hole through your head."

Wonwoo frowns, shifting slightly in his seat. "You’re exaggerating."

"Am I?" Seokmin smirks. "I don’t think I am."

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything to that. He just exhales through his nose and turns back to his notes. But Seokmin knows him too well—sees the way his ears go just the slightest bit red.

Seokmin grins. "Dude, I’m telling you, she’s noticing things. That’s a good sign."

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, flipping a page in his notes. "Go to sleep, Seokmin."

"Oh, I will. But just so you know…" Seokmin stifles a laugh. "I think you’re in trouble, man."

The rest of the day is… annoying. Not because of any difficult surgeries or unbearable patients, but because you are now painfully hyper-aware of Wonwoo. It’s stupid.  Like when he rolls up his sleeves before scrubbing in for surgery, and you catch yourself staring at his forearms for half a second too long.

Or the absolute worst—when you’re eating lunch with the others, and Wonwoo absentmindedly pushes the side dishes you like closer to you. It’s such a small, automatic thing, and normally you wouldn’t even blink at it. 

But today? Today, you almost drop your chopsticks.

"You good?" Seokmin asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Fine!" you say way too quickly, shoving food in your mouth to avoid talking.

Mingyu, the menace that he is, narrows his eyes at you. "Are you sure? You’ve been kinda weird today—"

"She’s fine," Wonwoo interjects smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee.

And just like that, you’re spiraling again. Because now you’re overthinking that. He just said you were fine. That’s normal, right? That’s just Wonwoo being Wonwoo. But now it sounds like he knows something, like he can see how much you’re overthinking him—

You hate this.

By the time your shift ends, you’re exhausted—not just physically, but mentally from all the overthinking. So when Wonwoo casually says, "Let’s go," and gestures toward the exit, you don’t even question it.

It’s routine, anyway. You don’t drive, and if Mingyu isn’t around to make you suffer through his questionable playlist, it’s usually Wonwoo who gives you a ride home.

The car ride is quiet at first, just the low hum of the engine and the faint sound of the radio playing some late-night ballad. You try to focus on anything else, but of course, you’re hyper-aware of every small thing he does. 

"You were weird today," he says suddenly.

You stiffen. "No, I wasn’t."

He hums, like he doesn’t quite believe you. "If you say so."

You scowl, slumping in your seat. "You’re annoying."

"And you’re terrible at hiding things."

You whip your head toward him. "Excuse me?"

Wonwoo glances at you with the tiniest smirk before turning his attention back to the road. "You keep staring at me."

You nearly choke. "I— that’s not—you—"* You shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself even more.

"Don’t overthink it," he says, like he can hear your brain short-circuiting.

You glare at him, crossing your arms. "I’m not."

"Sure."

He pulls up to your place, and before you can even reach for the door handle, he beats you to it, leaning over to unlock it from the inside. You freeze for half a second because he’s too close, and you swear he hesitates too before leaning back.

"Get some rest," he says simply.

You step out, and just as you close the door, he rolls down the window. "And stop staring so much. It’s obvious."

"I WAS NOT—!"

But he’s already driving away, leaving you standing there, burning with embarrassment.

Wonwoo didn’t mean to say it.

But the way you froze, the way your eyes widened in sheer panic before you tried to deny it—yeah, that reaction was worth it.

He’s not stupid. He noticed the shift in you over the past few days. The way you’ve been watching him more, like you suddenly started paying attention. Like you were seeing things for the first time that have always been there. It would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t also kind of frustrating.

Because he’s been looking at you like that for years.

He doesn’t usually let things slip. He’s careful, measured. But with you? It’s always been a little different.

As he drives away, he catches a glimpse of you in the rearview mirror—still standing there, fuming, probably cursing him under your breath. He exhales through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle he allows himself.

"Took you long enough."

He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he catches his own reflection in the mirror. And he definitely doesn’t realize that his fingers tap against the steering wheel the entire way home, like he’s buzzing with something he refuses to name.

After that you try to avoid him. Not in an obvious way, just enough to make sure you don’t end up alone with him again. It’s stupid, but you can’t help it. Unfortunately, Mingyu and Seokmin have noticed.

“You’re acting weird,” Mingyu says while stuffing his face with food.

Seokmin leans in. “Super weird. Suspiciously weird.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not acting weird.”

“You literally just turned around when you saw Wonwoo walking this way,” Seokmin points out.

Mingyu snickers. “Yeah, and you ran in the opposite direction.”

“Okay, first of all, I had places to be.”

“You went to a supply closet.”

“…Shut up.”

Mingyu and Seokmin exchange a look before turning back to you, both wearing the same smug expression.

“You’re doomed,” Mingyu says with a grin. Seokmin agrees.

Before you can threaten them, someone clears their throat behind you. You turn around—and there’s Wonwoo.

His eyes flick between the three of you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out, grabbing your tray and bolting.

From behind you, you hear Mingyu snicker, “Yup. Doomed.”

Later after another very long shift, you all but crawl out. There you see him. Wonwoo is standing outside the hospital entrance, hands in his coat pockets, glasses perched on his nose, looking completely unbothered by the cold night air. His eyes flick up the moment you step outside, and your heart does a stupid little flip.

“I thought you went home,” you say, stopping in front of him.

He raises a brow. “You were gonna chase the bus, weren’t you?”

You cross your arms. “Maybe.”

He huffs out a small laugh, then tilts his head toward his car. “Let’s go.”

You hesitate for half a second before following him. Because, well—this is Wonwoo. And he’s always been there, hasn’t he? Even when you didn’t notice.

You freeze halfway to the car. Wonwoo stops too, turning to face you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a slight furrow in his brows, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets.

"Why are you avoiding me?" His voice is steady, calm—but you know him well enough to hear the shift in his tone.

"I’m not," you lie, immediately looking away.

"You are," he counters easily. "You barely look at me during rounds, you leave the on-call room the second I walk in, and you suddenly act like you're allergic to coffee when I offer."

Okay, maybe you were being a little obvious. You shuffle your feet, gripping the strap of your bag. "I—it's nothing."

Wonwoo doesn’t budge. He just stares, waiting, and you swear the silence between you feels louder than anything right now.

Then, quieter, he says, "Did I do something?"

That makes you look at him. His expression hasn’t changed much, but there’s something in his eyes—something careful, hesitant. You shake your head quickly. "No! You didn’t—You never—" You exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. "It’s just… I don’t know."

That’s a lie. You do know. It’s because of everything—Mingyu’s words, Seokmin’s teasing, the way you suddenly can’t stop noticing every little thing Wonwoo does. And the way it’s making your heart act in ways it shouldn’t.

But how the hell are you supposed to say that?

Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then sighs, shaking his head. "Get in the car," he says, walking ahead. "We’re not doing this while you're sleep-deprived."

You stare after him, a little dumbfounded, before scrambling to follow. Because, well. This is Wonwoo. And he's always been there, hasn’t he?

The car ride is quiet. Not the usual comfortable silence, but something heavier. You glance at Wonwoo from the passenger seat—his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel, eyes focused ahead, his expression unreadable. He looks deep in thought.

And so are you.

Something stirs in the back of your mind. A memory, hazy but persistent.

It was years ago, after a long semester. You remember celebrating—too many drinks, too many laughs. And then… nothing. Just the aftermath. A raging headache, and the strange shift in Wonwoo’s behavior.

The day after that night, he started avoiding you. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but it became obvious—he wouldn’t meet your eyes, he stopped sitting next to you in class, and any conversation felt painfully awkward.

It lasted for weeks.

You never knew why.

Now, sitting next to him again, the memory presses into your chest. You glance at him once more, debating whether to ask.

But before you can, the car slows to a stop in front of your place.

"We’re here," Wonwoo says, voice even. He finally looks at you, and for a split second, there’s something in his gaze—something almost hesitant.

You swallow the words sitting on your tongue.

"Thanks for the ride," you mumble instead, pushing the door open.

But even as you step out, the question lingers.

It’s been bugging you for days. You try to brush it off, but the memory keeps surfacing at the most random moments—during surgeries, in the on-call room, even when you’re just grabbing coffee.

So, on a completely random day, when it’s just you and Wonwoo in the break room, you finally blurt it out.

"Why did you avoid me back in med school?"

Wonwoo, who was in the middle of sipping his coffee, freezes for a second. He lowers his cup slowly, eyes flickering to yours. "What?"

"You know," you insist, leaning against the counter. "After that one night out. The next day, you just—" You wave a hand, frustrated at how much this has been bothering you. "You barely talked to me for weeks. I thought I did something wrong, but I never knew what."

Wonwoo stares at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off or change the subject. But instead, he exhales and places his cup down.

"You don’t remember anything from that night?" he asks carefully.

Your brows furrow. "Not really. Just that I drank too much, and I felt like death the next morning."

Wonwoo is quiet. Too quiet. Now you’re nervous.

"What did I do?" you ask cautiously.

He hesitates, then sighs. "You… said something."

Your stomach drops. "What did I say?"

"You were drunk. I didn’t think you meant it, but—" He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. "You told me you liked me."

Your brain short-circuits You what?

Wonwoo keeps going, voice softer now. "I didn’t know how to react. I thought maybe you’d forget, or that you didn’t mean it. So I just… avoided you." He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "It was stupid. I know that now."

You stare at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. You think your brain might actually shut down.

Wonwoo looks down at his coffee cup, almost like he's debating whether to continue. Then, with a small sigh, he says it—

"And you kissed me."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You blink at him, trying to process what he just said. You kissed him?

Wonwoo glances up at you, his expression unreadable, but you can tell he’s waiting for your reaction.

"I—" You swallow, scrambling for any memory of that night. But all you can remember is drinking too much, maybe laughing too loud, and then waking up with the worst hangover of your life. "I what?"

"You kissed me," he repeats, slower this time. "Just once. It wasn’t… it wasn’t a big thing. But you looked at me like—" He stops himself, shakes his head. "I don’t know. I didn’t think you meant it, so I thought it was better if I just avoided you until things went back to normal."

Your heart is hammering now. You kissed him. You kissed Wonwoo. And he never said a word about it.

"Why didn’t you ever bring it up?" you ask, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo lets out a short, humorless laugh. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, do you remember kissing me that night?' You never brought it up either."

You stare at him, still trying to wrap your head around this. It’s not just the fact that you kissed him—it’s the fact that he’s looking at you now like this matters. Like maybe it wasn’t just a stupid drunken mistake to him.

And the worst part? You’re starting to think that it wasn’t just a stupid drunken mistake to you either. You hesitate for a moment before asking, "Is that why you weren’t dating?"

Wonwoo blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. His fingers tighten slightly around his coffee cup before he exhales and leans back against the chair.

"I don’t know," he says slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully. "Maybe. Part of it, yeah."

You feel something twist in your chest.

"What does that mean?" you press, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo looks at you then, really looks at you. Like he’s debating whether or not to say what he actually wants to say.

"It means," he finally murmurs, "that maybe I was waiting."

Your breath catches. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to. You can read between the lines. And suddenly, everything—the way he always looked out for you, the way he always made sure you ate, how he was always there—feels different. Feels heavier.

Like maybe you were supposed to notice a long time ago.

"I told you I liked you," you say, your voice sharper than you expected. "And you never told me."

Wonwoo doesn’t respond right away. He just watches you, unreadable, his grip tightening around his coffee cup.

"You were drunk," he finally says.

You let out a frustrated scoff. "And? That doesn’t mean it wasn’t true."

He exhales slowly, looking away. "I thought you wouldn’t remember. Or that maybe you’d regret it."

Your jaw clenches. "So you just decided that for me?"

Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn’t want to risk losing you."

You let out a breath, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. You’re mad—at him, at yourself, at the way this conversation is only happening now.

"That’s so stupid," you say, shaking your head. "That’s so—you’re so—"

You stop, because you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. You just know it makes you angry.

Wonwoo gives you a small, almost apologetic smile. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Maybe."

You push past Wonwoo, your head spinning with frustration, and storm out of the room. You make your way to the surgery ward, still replaying the conversation in your head. Your steps are heavy, your thoughts even heavier.

Seokmin is at the nurses’ station, casually flipping through a patient chart when he sees you approaching. He immediately notices your expression and sighs. “Alright, what did Mingyu do this time?”

You shake your head, dragging a chair and plopping down beside him. “Not Mingyu.”

Seokmin raises an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you just found out your whole life was a lie?”

You groan, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the desk. “I did find out something. From med school.”

Seokmin hums in interest. “Go on.”

You lift your head slightly, hesitating before mumbling, “Apparently, I told Wonwoo I liked him back then.”

Seokmin freezes. Blinks. Then leans forward dramatically. “You did what?”

“I don’t remember, okay?” you hiss, slapping his arm. “I was drunk. But he remembered. And guess what? He never said anything.”

Seokmin lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That’s tough.”

You slump back in your chair. “I don’t even know why I’m mad. Am I mad at him? At myself? At the universe?”

Seokmin clicks his tongue. “I’d say all of the above.”

You glare at him.

He chuckles before getting serious. “Look, you’re mad because it meant something. Even if you don’t remember confessing, the fact that he never responded—never even acknowledged it—hurts.”

You bite your lip, looking away. “Yeah.”

Seokmin nudges you. “So, what are you gonna do?”

You exhale sharply. “I have no idea.”

Seokmin grins. “Well, this is gonna be fun to watch.”

And so, you do what any reasonable person would do. You avoid Wonwoo.

You’re not dramatic about it—at least, you tell yourself that. You’re just busy. Too busy to sit in the on-call room when he’s there. Too busy to grab coffee at the same time. Too busy to share a ride home.

Mingyu and Seokmin notice immediately.

Seokmin corners you first, casually blocking your way to the scrub room with a patient chart. “So, avoiding your not-boyfriend now?”

You groan. “I’m not avoiding him.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head. “Then why did you suddenly start doing your post-op notes in this hallway instead of the lounge?”

You cross your arms. “I like the lighting here.”

Seokmin snorts. “Right. Because overhead fluorescent lights are so flattering.”

Mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t even bother being subtle. He slaps a tray of food down at your table during a late dinner break. “So, what’s the plan?”

You blink at him. “For what?”

“For whatever mess you and Wonwoo have gotten yourselves into.” He waves his chopsticks. “It’s been days. Wonwoo looks like he’s about to lose his mind, and you look like you’re trying to ascend into another plane of existence just to avoid eye contact.”

You scowl. “I just need time to think.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly are you thinking about?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Everything? The fact that I apparently confessed years ago and he never told me? The fact that he’s acting like it doesn’t matter? The fact that maybe it does matter, but I don’t know what to do with that?”

Mingyu chews thoughtfully, then points his chopsticks at you. “Sounds like you’re not over him.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the table.

He pats your shoulder. “Just talk to him. Before one of you explodes.”

The moment the hospital alert blared through the speakers, it’s like everything was put on hold. A mass casualty incident. Multiple vehicles. A bus, a few cars.

The ER instantly became chaos—stretchers being wheeled in, nurses and doctors shouting orders, the smell of antiseptic and blood thick in the air. Wonwoo moved on instinct, running toward the commotion just as Mingyu turned to him, face pale.

“She took the bus today,” Mingyu said.

Wonwoo’s stomach dropped. He didn’t even need to ask who she was. His feet were moving before his brain caught up. He barely heard Mingyu yelling for him as he shoved past people, making his way to the hospital entrance. Paramedics were still unloading patients. Some were conscious. Some weren’t moving at all.

He turned, gripping the arm of a paramedic. “The bus—where is it? Was everyone taken out?”

“There are still people at the site,” the paramedic said. “Some are trapped. First responders are working on it.”

Wonwoo didn’t wait to hear the rest. He ran.

The crash site was a scene of wreckage—twisted metal, shattered glass, the air heavy with smoke and the sharp scent of gasoline. Emergency lights flashed red and blue against the darkening sky, casting eerie shadows over the scene.

Wonwoo barely registered the shouts of firefighters and paramedics as they worked to extract victims from the wreckage. His mind had narrowed to one thing—you.

He scanned the scene frantically, his pulse hammering in his ears. People were being pulled from the bus, some dazed, some unconscious. His breath hitched when he saw a familiar figure slumped against the pavement, a paramedic crouched beside you.

"Y/N!"

His voice was hoarse, nearly breaking as he sprinted toward you. Your head turned sluggishly at the sound of his voice. Blood streaked down your forehead, a cut splitting just above your eyebrow. Your white coat was smudged with dirt, torn at the sleeve, and you had one hand pressed to your side, wincing.

“Wonwoo?” you murmured, blinking up at him, disoriented.

He dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering over your face, your arms, as if afraid you’d shatter at his touch. “What the hell—why—why are you still here? You should’ve been in the hospital already—”

“Dr. Jeon?” The paramedic beside you spoke up, recognizing him. “She’s stable for now, but we need to move her. There might be internal injuries.”

Wonwoo clenched his jaw. He knew that but it was different when it was you, when he was staring at your bloodied form and realizing how close he’d come to—

No. He refused to think about it.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice tight, as he helped lift you onto the stretcher.

Your fingers curled around his wrist, gripping weakly. “Wonwoo,” you murmured.

His heart stuttered. “What?”

“Don’t look so sad.” Your smile was faint, barely there. “I’m okay.”

He exhaled sharply, gripping your hand. “You better be.”

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, the pain dulling into exhaustion. The sounds around you—sirens, shouts, the rustle of movement—were starting to blur together.

“Hey, hey—no.” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the haze, sharp with panic. His grip on your hand tightened. “Stay with me.”

You hummed, barely nodding. “Just… tired.”

“I don’t care. You’re not sleeping right now.” His other hand cupped your cheek, the warmth grounding you. “Look at me.” You tried. Really, you did. But the weight behind your eyes was unbearable. Your head lolled slightly, and that’s when his voice broke—

“Y/N, please.”

Something in his tone made you fight harder to stay conscious. Your blurry vision focused just enough to see his face—his usual calm was gone, replaced with pure, raw worry.

“You’re always… so bossy,” you mumbled, forcing a weak smirk.

“And you never listen,” he shot back, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “So listen now—stay awake.”

The paramedics lifted your stretcher, and Wonwoo moved with them, never letting go of your hand. “We’re almost at the hospital,” he told you, voice softer now. “You’ll be fine.”

You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the pain, or the way he was looking at you, but for a moment, you believed him. Wonwoo’s heart nearly stopped when your body went limp. He swallowed hard, his mind racing even as his training kicked in. You’d lost blood. Too much. Your skin was too pale, your breathing too shallow.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

As soon as they reached the ambulance, he climbed in with you, pressing two fingers to your wrist again just to reassure himself that your pulse was still there.

"Stay with me," he murmured, more to himself than to you snd when the ambulance doors shut, sirens wailing as they sped toward the hospital, he didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second.

The ambulance screeched to a halt outside the emergency entrance, and the doors flew open. Wonwoo barely waited for the paramedics before he moved, helping guide the stretcher out.

“Female, late twenties, sustained injuries from the crash site,” one of the paramedics called out. “Multiple lacerations, possible concussion, and significant blood loss—she lost consciousness on the way.” Mingyu was already there, his eyes widening the moment he saw you. 

“Shit—Get her inside. Now! Bay 7!”

Mingyu paled but immediately snapped into action, helping the nurses prep you for assessment. Seokmin rushed in a second later, his expression shifting from relief to worry in an instant.

“Her BP’s low,” a nurse reported. “We need fluids started now.”

Wonwoo knew he should step back, let the trauma team handle it. But his feet refused to move. His pulse was racing, hands clenched at his sides.

“You need to get checked, too,” Mingyu said, glancing at the blood on Wonwoo’s scrubs—not his own, but yours.

“I’m fine.” Wonwoo’s voice was tight. “She—” His words caught in his throat. “Just take care of her.”

Mingyu exchanged a glance with Seokmin, who rushed down the ER the moment he heard about the accident, before nodding.

“Wonwoo,” Seokmin said carefully, “let them work. She’s in good hands.” he pulls Wonwoo out the hallway to let Mingyu and his team do their work.

Wonwoo’s jaw locked. He knew that. He did. But watching you, lying there so still, covered in bruises and blood—he’d never felt this helpless before. His mind was a mess. He should have driven you home. He should have made sure you weren’t avoiding him. He should have—

The doors burst open. A nurse rushed past him. Then, through the small window of the ER, he saw Mingyu and the rest of the team working frantically around you. Something was wrong.

He stepped forward, but Seokmin was suddenly there, blocking his way. “They’re doing everything they can,” Seokmin said, his voice firm but laced with worry. Wonwoo barely heard him. His eyes were locked on the room, on Mingyu pressing down on your chest.

You had coded.

A sharp breath left him as he staggered back, hitting the wall. Seokmin’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Wonwoo’s hands were shaking. He curled them into fists. He’d never been this scared before. Not once in his life.

Wonwoo tried to push past Seokmin, but Seokmin held him back, gripping his arm tightly.

"Wonwoo, stop," Seokmin said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension in his face.

"I need to be in there," Wonwoo snapped, his breathing uneven. "I need to—"

Seokmin shook his head. "Mingyu’s got this. Do you think he’d let anything happen to her?"

Wonwoo clenched his jaw, his entire body tense, but he didn’t push forward again. He knew Seokmin was right but knowing didn’t make it easier. All he could do was stand there, watching through the window as Mingyu fought to bring you back.

Mingyu gritted his teeth, his hands steady even as the tension in the room thickened. The sound of the flatline rang in his ears, drowning out everything else.

"Charge to 200," he ordered, his voice sharp and controlled.

The nurse complied, handing him the paddles. Mingyu placed them on your chest, his heart hammering. "Clear!"

Your body jerked slightly as the shock coursed through you.

He checked the monitor. Still flat.

"Again! 300!"

Another shock.

Nothing.

Mingyu refused to let panic settle in. His friend was on this table. No, not just a friend. You were family.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath, sweat forming at his brow. "You're not done yet."

He pressed his hands to your chest, beginning compressions. "Give me one milligram of epi!"

Time blurred. His arms burned from the force of CPR, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t.

Then A blip. Another. A weak, slow rhythm appeared on the monitor.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "We've got a pulse," he announced, his voice hoarse but firm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but Mingyu knew it wasn’t over yet. He looked at you, unconscious but breathing, and exhaled sharply.

"You scared the hell out of us," he muttered under his breath. Then, he turned to the nurse. "Get her to the ICU. I'll update the others."

As the team moved into action, Mingyu pulled off his gloves, exhausted but relieved. Now, he just had to face Wonwoo.

Mingyu stepped out of the ER, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. The hallway felt suffocating with tension, and the moment he looked up, his gaze met Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo was still pacing, his fists clenched at his sides, eyes dark with worry. Seokmin stood nearby, watching carefully in case he had to physically restrain him again.

The second Wonwoo saw Mingyu, he froze. "How is she?"

Mingyu sighed, pulling off his surgical cap. "She coded."

Wonwoo’s face drained of color.

"But we got her back."

The relief was visible—Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped for just a second before he straightened, jaw tight. "Where is she now?"

"ICU. We stabilized her, but she’s not awake yet."

Wonwoo didn’t wait for another word. He turned on his heel, heading straight for the ICU.

Seokmin let out a breath. "I’m going after him before he scares the nurses."

Mingyu didn’t stop him. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, exhaustion hitting him full force.

"You better wake up soon," he mumbled to himself. "Or he’s gonna lose it."

Wonwoo barely made it past the ICU doors before the nurses blocked his way.

"You can’t see her yet, Dr. Jeon," one of them said firmly. "She’s still unconscious, and we need to monitor her closely."

His jaw tightened. "I just need to see her—"

"Wonwoo."

Seokmin grabbed his arm before he could push past them. "Stop."

Wonwoo turned sharply, eyes flashing. "She almost died, Seokmin. I—" He clenched his fists, unable to finish.

Seokmin’s grip didn’t loosen. "I know. But you barging in there isn’t going to change anything. Let them do their job."

Wonwoo’s breathing was heavy, his body tense as if he was holding himself together by a thread. His gaze flickered toward the door, frustration clear on his face.

Seokmin sighed. "Come on, man. Let’s sit for a second. You’re no good to her if you pass out from exhaustion."

Wonwoo didn’t move for a long moment, but finally, he exhaled sharply and let Seokmin pull him back toward the waiting area.

Still, he kept his eyes locked on the door, like sheer willpower alone could wake you up.

Hours passed, dragging on painfully. Wonwoo sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together so tightly they were turning white. Mingyu and Seokmin were on either side of him, equally exhausted but keeping watch.

No one spoke much. The weight of everything that had happened hung heavily in the air.

Then, finally, a nurse stepped out of the ICU.

"You can see her now."

Wonwoo was on his feet instantly, not even waiting for the others as he rushed through the doors. His heart pounded as he stepped into your room, his breath catching at the sight of you.

You were stil unconcious, but you were breathing. There were bandages wrapped around your head and arms, an IV hooked up beside you. But your chest rose and fell steadily. 

"You’re an idiot," he muttered, voice hoarse. But even as he said it, his hand hovered over yours, hesitant, before finally resting gently over your fingers.

Hours passed before you finally regained consciousness. The first thing you notice is the hand holding yours. The weight of everything sinking in. 

You gently squeeze his hand making Wonwoo sit up and look at you, “Hey you” you mumble at him. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking at you. Making sure he isn’t dreaming, he takes your warm hand pressing it against his cheek

“You scared me” he whispered

“Sorry”

He shakes his head. He stands up, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. His lips lingering there for a while like he’s savoring every second. When he pulled back, his gaze met yours, filled with something unspoken.

“You should rest,” he murmured, voice still rough with emotion.

You gave him a small, tired smile. “Only if you do too.”

“I’m not leaving.” You already knew that. Even if he didn’t say it, you could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t going anywhere.

The door swung open, and Seokmin practically burst in, arms spread wide. “She LIVES!” he announced dramatically, as if you had risen from the dead.

You gave him a tired glare. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, plopping down in the chair beside you. “Do you know how much stress you caused us?”

Mingyu walked in behind him, arms crossed. “You had me working overtime,” he said, half-joking, half-serious. “And I don’t even get paid extra for that.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth in your smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll schedule my near-death experience at a more convenient time.”

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “That’s all I ask.”

Seokmin gasped. “Excuse me? That is not all we ask! How about you don’t get into life-threatening accidents at all?”

You sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “Noted.”

Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, just exhaled, shaking his head. “They’re never gonna let this go, you know.”

“Obviously,” you muttered, but your chest felt lighter. Because as much as they nagged, you knew it just meant they cared.

Your recovery days were… frustrating, to say the least. As a surgeon, you were used to being the one treating patients, not being the patient. And the worst part? Your own friends were your caretakers, which meant zero chances of slipping out of bed unnoticed.

Seokmin was the worst about it. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked one afternoon when you tried to stand up.

“For a walk,” you said.

He pushed you back down with one finger to your forehead. “You’re on bed rest, doctor.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled.

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “You coded! You died for a minute, and now you want to go for a walk?”

Mingyu walked in just in time to hear that. “Wait, she tried to get up? I knew we should’ve strapped her down.”

You scowled at both of them. “I’m not a psych patient—”

“Then stop acting like one,” Mingyu shot back.

But it wasn’t just them. The nurses were in on it, too. They absolutely loved watching the usually stubborn and independent surgeon get bossed around. Every time Wonwoo came to check on you, you swore you saw them watching from the nurses’ station, whispering to each other.

And speaking of Wonwoo…

He was quiet but relentless. While the others nagged, he just watched you, making sure you ate, making sure you took your meds, making sure you rested. He didn’t have to say anything—his mere presence was enough to keep you in place.

But one evening, when the others had left, you finally had enough. “Wonwoo, I swear if you tell me to ‘take it easy’ one more time—”

“I won’t,” he said simply, sitting beside your bed.

You blinked. “Oh.”

He looked at you for a moment, then exhaled. “I just… I was really scared.”

Your throat tightened. “Wonwoo—”

“I almost lost you,” he murmured.

You stared at him, heart pounding. “…Okay.”

He gave your hand a light squeeze. “Good.”

“But that’s unfair, you can’t use that on me everytime”

Wonwoo’s lips twitched, barely holding back a smirk. “Use what?”

“You being all—” you waved your free hand vaguely, “—soft and serious. Making me feel bad for worrying you. That’s not fair.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “It’s not fair that you keep scaring me either.”

You groaned, sinking further into your pillows. “Fine. Truce?”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider it. “…Only if you promise to stop being reckless.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Define reckless.”

He sighed. “I hate you.”

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

“…No, I don’t,” he admitted, his voice softer this time.

You stretched your arms as you walked into the hospital, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief. Being back at work after weeks of recovery felt oddly normal, except for the way your friends hovered around you like you were made of glass.

You sat across from Wonwoo at a quiet restaurant near the hospital, picking at your food while he watched you like a hawk. He had already subtly pushed a side dish closer to you twice, and when you slowed down again, he raised an eyebrow.

"Eat," he said simply, taking a bite of his own food.

You sighed, shoving a spoonful into your mouth to appease him. “Happy?”

He hummed in approval before sipping his drink. The meal went on in comfortable silence, but your mind kept drifting back to the last real conversation you had before the accident. 

“Wonwoo.”

“Hmm?”

You hesitated for a second, then pushed forward. “Before the accident, when we were talking… You said I kissed you.”

His grip on his drink tightened slightly. “Yeah.”

“And you never told me,” you continued, voice steady but firm. “I told you I liked you, and you never said anything. Is that… is that why you never dated anyone?”

Wonwoo let out a slow breath, placing his drink down carefully. “I thought you were drunk.”

“I was drunk,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t lying.”

He leaned back slightly, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I didn’t know that.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “So what, you avoided me for weeks, pretended like nothing happened, and then just… never dated anyone because of it?”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away. He stared at you for a long moment, like he was deciding something. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I thought if I told you, it’d change everything. And I didn’t—I couldn’t—” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. “And what about now?”

He met your gaze, something softer in his expression now. “Now, I think I almost did anyway.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and for the first time in weeks, maybe years, you felt like you were finally getting somewhere.

You stared at him, processing everything he’d just said. The years of friendship, the silent moments, the things left unsaid—all of it led to this.

“So,” you started carefully, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass, “you spent all these years… what? Waiting?”

Wonwoo let out a short, breathy laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “It’s not like I planned to. I just—no one else ever felt right.”

Something in your chest tightened. “Wonwoo.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. “Do you regret it?”

You blinked. “Regret what?”

“Telling me you liked me back then.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I don’t regret it. What I regret is not remembering anything”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You really don’t?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted. “If I had, we probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

“And now?”

You held his gaze. “I don’t want to waste any more.”

For the first time in weeks, Wonwoo smiled—not the small, fleeting ones he’d been giving you, but a real one, the kind that reached his eyes.

“Then let’s not.”

The moment stretched between you two, something unspoken settling into place. Wonwoo didn’t say anything else instead he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours before curling around them. It was such a simple gesture, but your heart still stuttered at the warmth of his palm against yours.

“You’re really doing this, huh?” you murmured, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Wonwoo’s thumb traced lazy circles over your skin. “I should’ve done it a long time ago.”

You squeezed his hand, rolling your eyes playfully. “You should’ve.”

After your shift of course he waited for you to drive you home, the drive was quiet. Like how it usually is. But this this there's a sense of peace, something more comforting. Wonwoo made a thoughtful hum before, to your surprise, he reached over at a red light, fingers brushing against your hand. Then, in the most unexpected act of affection, he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“What—”

“I like holding your hand,” he admitted casually, as if this wasn’t the first time he was doing something like this outside of a life-or-death situation. “It’s warm.”

You blinked at him. This man. “Wonwoo,” you deadpanned, but your grip on his hand tightened, betraying you.

“Do you have any idea how confusing you are?” you muttered, squeezing his hand.

Wonwoo chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I think I’m making it pretty obvious now.”

Your face heated up. You turned to look out the window, trying to hide the giddy feeling bubbling up in your chest. And just like that, the rest of the ride home was spent with your fingers still laced together, neither of you letting go.

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. Wonwoo's hand was still in yours, warm and steady

“If I’m reading this wrong,” he said, voice softer than before, “we can stop. I don’t want to force anything on you.”

You turned to him, watching how he kept his eyes on the road, his usual unreadable expression now laced with something else—something hesitant, something careful.

Your chest tightened.

“You think you’re reading it wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo sighed through his nose, thumb unconsciously brushing against your knuckles. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to assume anything. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to go along with me just because…” He trailed off, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter with his other hand.

Just because he’s Wonwoo? Just because he’s been there always, in ways you never fully understood until now?

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You weren’t used to this—him being the one doubting things when it was usually you who overthought.

The car slowed as he pulled up in front of your place, but he didn’t make a move to let go of your hand. His fingers curled around yours loosely, like he was giving you the chance to let go first.

You didn’t.

Instead, you took a breath and turned to face him fully. “You’re not reading it wrong,” you said, firm but not unkind.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, the flickering streetlight outside casting shadows on his face.

“You’re not forcing anything,” you added, squeezing his hand. “I like this, okay? I like… us.”

Wonwoo just smirked, giving your hand a squeeze. “This is years in the making,” he murmured, like it was the simplest fact in the world. “Let me hold my girl’s hand for a minute more.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, but your heart was doing something completely different—stumbling over itself at the way he said my girl.

You swallowed, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. Years in the making. You’d never thought about it like that, but now that he said it, you realized—he was right.

All those late-night study sessions, the quiet moments in the on-call room, the way he always made sure you ate, the way he was just… there. It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t new. It was just something that had always been there, waiting for the two of you to finally stop dancing around it.

“…Fine,” you muttered, fighting the smile but failing miserably. “One minute.”

Wonwoo chuckled, and instead of arguing, he just laced his fingers through yours, holding on like he never planned on letting go.

[screamsofanoutlawbrain]

You know, the cookies of darkness is kinda like a cult. Cause most of them were taken in at their lowest of lows or had no other choice but to join. So here's what I think of em. (under the cut)

And I'll name most of em off.

Licorice Cookie: Dude was literally an outcast in every sense, it's assumed that his tribe literally fluffing DIED and that the magic he was good in (necromancy) is relatively frowned apon. He was an outcast, and likely starved of attention due to having no peers around him that he could really connect to beyond VERY surface level things, and Dark Enchantress probably took advantage on it, I could see him being given praise for his magic early on, but never getting any of that attention later. That very want for attention from one of the few who actually expressed any interest in his talents being the only reason he's still around.

Poison Mushroom Cookie: That's a child, probably an orphan, possibly alone because of their poisonous shroomies driving most away. Similar case to Licorice, the kiddo got attached to the ones around them and doesn't want to leave.

Red Velvet Cookie: He was born into this, came out the oven without an arm, and is (what I'm assuming) part cakehound, he was born an outcast, and likely has nowhere else to go. Red Velvet clearly cares about the cakehounds and soldiers more enough to keep him to stay. He has little other choice at this point.

Pomegranate Cookie: She was literally trained to be a high priestess to her village, and then learned that she was fated to effectively destroy it. I'm betting my right leg that she was probably DEVASTATED when she learned that, to learn that everything she has worked up to, she would betray. She trusted the mirrors vision over her own wants, and so she left to serve darkness, and (like Licorice Cookie) was given praise at what she done to her village, but that praise became less and less frequent over time. the combination of her having no other place to go, effectively destroying all allys she could have, the same starvation of praise, and her blind trust in Dark Enchantress Cookie leaving her unable to leave, not without a fight.

Dark Choco Cookie: I think this one was pretty simple. He was already pretty vulnerable and broken down on his own after losing everything to a sword he's stuck with. He got manipulated and brainwashed into thinking he had no other chance and that he was stuck forever. No lovebombing, no praise, just manipulation from somebody with a silver tongue. (His abandoning of the C.O.D. is something that could happen to any of the rest, but his already fragile connection made it a lot easier for him to break ties.)

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: A (possibly robot) child who thought they were abandoned by their kingdom(and which they sadly kinda were). They were alone with only robots to comfort them, do I even need to explain this?

Matcha Cookie: Like Red Velvet, but kinda worse. She was deemed a failure and had EVEN LESS TIME TO GROW OR DEVELOP BEFORE BEING THROWN INTO WORKING FOR THEM (At least, I'm guessing she didn't), plus she didn't have cakehounds to connect with, just her plants.

Butter Roll Cookie: Dude was kiddnapped. Need I say more?

Affogato Cookie: If he didn't join, he would probably be dead. Again, need I say more?

So far, I think this kinda matches up with a cult, but if anyone has a better definition for it, do tell in a reblog or comment.

That's about it, if any more of these guys come out, I'll update this.

[xnalux]

streamer!vi hcs

part 2 part 3

my first time writing hcs so

warnings: none, fem!reader

pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine

streamervi: her streamer name is @/vistandsforviolence

streamervi: her rooms is a fucking mess, the walls are filled with mishmash of posters, stickers and colorful doodles jinx drawn on the wall herself. The floor is a sea of tangled cables, snaking around piles of discarded energy drink cans, scattered notebooks filled with doodles and half-written to-do lists. Her bed is a disheveled mountain of blankets and pillows with one corner serving as a laundry basket for her favorite band tees and worn-out jeans. It 100% stinks in there.

streamervi: set up is even worse, her streaming equipment is scattered across every available surface: a webcam held together by duct tape and hope, a ring light that flickers with an eerie glow, and a microphone that's seen better days. The desk is a minefield of controllers, half-eaten snacks, and sticky notes with hastily scribbled gaming strategies.

streamervi: has the wors wifii, she would probably stream better from a cave in the middle of nowhere.

streamervi: if jinx is home when she is streaming, everytime vi leaves the stream to go to the bathroom or get some snacks, jinx run in her room and takes her place ''hello guys it's jinx again, the cooler sister here to reveal all the dark secrets of vi'' and it would end up with vi wrestling a screaming jinx out of her room ''SHE WET HER BED TILL MIDDLE SCHOOL''

streamervi: she plays dark souls sice she started streaming ad still hasn't finished it (probably destroyed 25 controllers playing it). Everytime she dies, which happens more often than she'd like to admit, she slams the controller down on the desk screaming ''I'm done with this shit man'' but dives back in the game thirthy seconds later with a "alright, Dark Souls, you think you've seen anger? you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

streamervi: she totally cried all her tears playing the last of us and has a crush on ellie always making comments throughout the gameplay ''man she is so hot'' ''look at those arms'' ''if she is not ellie i don't want her''. She giggled watching the dina and ellie couch scene ''get that girl ellie!'' and a second after when she got in a chasing part of the game she bacame an anxious mess ''i want to go back to banging on the couch, i want to go back to banging on the couch''

streamervi: hates horror games but the chat is always requesting them because her reaction are hilarious. Everytime she plays an horror game her hands get sweaty and she secretly lowers her headphones's volume because the soundtrack makes he anxious. She suddendly start reading the chat every two second just for an excuse to pause the game and end up bickering with them

@pinksmasherz ''guys she is scared shitless, she alredy paused 10 time and it's only been 15 minutes lmao''

''you know who was scared? your mom when she gave birth to you'' before literally jumping from her seat ten seconds after and close the game.

streamervi: totally posts thirst traps in her ig stories and brags about the numbers of girls who liked it during her streams. She shows the pictures to the chat and smirks ''bet you losers want to be me so bad''

@sapphicnightmare: ''delulu is the solulu''

@zaunfinest: ''bet she never had a girlfriend in her entire life #vstandsforvirgin''

@getjinxed: ''I'm her sister and i can confirm she is a loser and a virgin #vstandsforvirgin

''Powder get the fuck out of my stream or I'll tell vander you blew up the mcrowave again''

@getjinxed: ''#worstvirginsister

streamervi: who totally has a crush on you since you two got matched up playing valorant. vi was being her usual self, she started talking a mile a minute and cursing at the enemy team as she got more and more worked up. you found her endering so when she complimented you about a skilled heal ''Nice one!" you decied to turn on your mic ''thanks'' she suddendly got into gay panic as she heard your voice and ended up dying

Her chat went wild

@piltiegoth: "very smooth"

@Ekk0:"Looks like she's finally found someone who can shut her up!"

@zaunfinest: "she is totally blushing, what a loser"

@getjinxed: ''#vstandsforvirgin''

''not that hashtag again''

streamervi: who silently sends you a friend request as the game ended. You became a constant in her lives, she always askied you if you were up for a game together even tho her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, visible even through the webcam's glow every time you said something and she stumbled over her words, calling you "dude" one second and then switching to "bro" the next, as if trying to find the perfect term of endearment.

streamervi: when you two finally exchanged ig she was having dinner with powder and vander and almost choked staring at your picture. powder peeked to her screen from where she was seated next to her.

''who is @pixelprincess? wait isn't she that girl you always play valorant with during your streams? the one you've got a crush on?''

powder asked her munching over a chicked wing as vi got red faced

''i don't have a crush on her''

vi said but the words came out high pitched and totally fake

''yeah right, you always try to act cool when she is playing with you lowering your voice and shit, loser''

powder snikered as vi just got even more red and glared at her

''she is totally out of your league sis''

streamervi: who after months of pining after you (even the chat was tired of her loser crush on you) and powder threatening to reveal her baby naked pictures on the internet, finally asked you on a date. you met in a cafe downtown, she was so nervous she ended up talking the whole time and spilling her coffe all over the table. By the end of it she was sure you were going to block her as soon as you got home and never talk to her again. After she insisted to walk you home and you were standing in front of your home she took a deep breath.

''Listen I'm so sorry about the coffee. And the talking. And just… everything. I promise i'm usually not such a mess but i'll understand if you if you'll never want to see me again...''

she started rambling and only shut herself up when you planted a quick kiss in the middle of her cheek

''I liked it''

you smiled at her as her cheeks flushed and she brought a hand over the skin you just brushed with your lips.

''you liked it''

vi repeated as she stood stunned watching you nod your head, your pretty smile never leaving your face. And in that moment she knew she was a goner

streamervi: who the night after she kissed you for the first time, not a kiss on the cheek, not a peck but a proper kiss turned on her stream still high on dopamin from your date just to scream

''LESBIAN WON AGAIN!''

as she stood in front of her screen with her fist raised in the air and a stupid grin on her face.

''are u hearing this guys? sorry to break the news like this but i'm oficcially off the market ladies''

@sevikunt: ''she probably kidnapped her''

@viktorious: ''trolling''

@chadjayce: ''I refuse to live in a world where she actually get laid and i'm still single''

@pixelprincess: cute ♡

@getjinxed: FUCKING FINALLY

vi was staring at your message in the chat with a stupid lovesick grin on her face

@getjinxed: oh no she is even worse than before

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Pic credit: @cupcakeinat0r

Warning: Rough sex, overstimulation, dumbification-ish?, name-calling, breeding kink

It started with you making your way to Miguel's office to drop off your mission report and some food from the cafeteria since you were certain he hadn't eaten today. Just before you reached the door, Lyla appeared in front of you. "Hey girly. You here for the boss?" She asked. "Yeah Lyla, I know he probably hasn't come out for food today. Plus I need to drop off my report." You answered. Lyla gave you a sheepish look. "Ummm just be careful...or maybe come back later? It might be better. He's not doing so hot. It's uh...his time of the month?"

You paused at first. You were so busy taking care of anomalies you forgot to check the calendar. Miguel's spider DNA gave him a mating cycle. The first time had taken you by surprise and your muscles ached for 2 weeks. Since then you'd been careful to time it properly and stretch but saving the multiverse from sudden collapse was becoming more and more difficult lately. You totally forgot about Miguel's "heat".

"Oh...um..maybe I'll still go check on him. Just so I can make sure he doesn't hurt himself." You reasoned to her. Lyla shrugged. "If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn you though, girly." You smiled and waved her away playfully as the door slid open in front of you. Miguel's office felt unusually cold, like he had turned the AC on full blast plus some. You didn't even have a chance to speak before hearing Miguel's voice shouting. "LYLA I told you not to let anyone in here!"

Your spider sense pinged just as you saw one of Miguel's huge monitors flying towards you. "Miguel! What the hell, it's me!" You shouted, catching the monitor before it took you out. The force of it did send you back a couple inches but you were otherwise unharmed. You swung up to his platform and set the monitor gently on the floor. "Oh...I-I'm sorry, hermosa. I didn't know it was you." He apologized. He was hunched over in his chair, his large frame curled almost into a ball. He didn't even look up at you but you could see him tense up as you neared him. "You shouldn't be here, querida. It's not safe. I don't wanna hurt you."

You put your hand on his back and Miguel bristled like a cat. "Amor, estoy serio! If you don't leave, I don't think I'll be able to control myself." He warned, his tone was harsh but also pleading. You stood firm. "I'm not afraid of you, Miguel. And I'm not fragile either. You know I can handle it. It'll hurt you more if you don't." You placed your hands on his shoulders and started to massage his muscles when he shot up from his chair and whirled around to face you. "You don't know what you're asking for this time, querida. I tried to take a suppressor and..it didn't work! It only made it worse." He growled. You could finally take in the sight of him fully as he towered above you. His hair was disheveled and sweaty, his normally maroon-colored eyes were a blazing, almost glowing, red. He was breathing heavily and his hands were clenched in tight fists like he was using every ounce of strength to keep them to himself.

You raised your hand to his face, concerned, but Miguel caught your hand in his tightly. "Miguel-" "Why do you insist on torturing me, amor? Don't you understand that the closer you get to me, the more I'm having to restrain myself?!" He pulled you to him and pressed his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. "Dios mio...you smell so sweet, princesa. I bet you taste even better." He growled against your skin. Arousal coursed through you as you felt his hard length press against you. "Miguel...I can take it.." You spoke, trying to reassure him, your voice barely making it above a whisper. He leaned close to you, gripping you by your jaw. "I won't be gentle, hermosa. I can't." He rasped. You nodded and gasped as he began to grind his hips against you. One hand ran up the back of your neck and tangled in your hair. Grabbing a fistful of it, Miguel yanked your head back and latched his mouth to your neck. You cried out as his fangs sunk into your skin, marking you as his. He sucked on your neck before pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His other hand ran down your body, squeezing and groping your flesh as he went. He stopped just under your bellybutton and gripped a fistful of your suit. Your eyes widened as you felt a tug and heard the rip of the material.

You pushed on his chest, trying to protest his destruction of your suit but he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind you, and smothering your noises with his kiss. Breathing heavily, he released you long enough to growl out "I'll make you another suit, querida" before shredding the material on your chest, freeing your breasts. He wasted zero time sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth before rolling the other one between his fingers. You let your head roll back and threaded your fingers through Miguel's hair. His warm tongue flicked across your nipple, making you whimper in pleasure.

Miguel stood up straight and pushed you back against the table. Turning your body away from him, he got on his knees behind you. "Bend over for me, princesa. Let me taste you." He demanded. You bent over the table, your ass and dripping pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel groaned as he massaged your ass. "Fuck, you're so wet already, amor. You're driving me crazy."

You choked out a loud moan as Miguel shoved his tongue inside you without warning. His hands dug into the meat of your ass as he wiggled it against his face. "Oh f-fuck, Miguel! Your mouth feels so good!" You whined. Miguel hummed as he sucked on your clit and flicked his tongue over your wet hole. Two of his large fingers replaced his tongue inside you and began pumping inside you fast and hard. Your legs were already beginning to shake and you knew Miguel wouldn't have mercy on you just yet. You felt yourself coming undone as he ate you like an ice cream. You couldn't help but rock back against his face, crying out his name as you came on his tongue.

Laughing quietly to himself, he stood and wiped his face before cleaning off his fingers one by one, savoring your taste. He went back to rubbing your clit in circles as he positioned himself behind you. He pushed on your back until you were completely flush against the table. You heard his suit turn off and squirmed against him in anticipation.

A loud scream was pulled from your throat as Miguel fully sheathed himself inside you. Giving you absolutely no time to adjust, he began fucking you at such a rough pace, the monitors began to shake from the force of his thrusts. "Ay carajo, bebita...you're so fucking tight....gonna fill this pussy up so good, querida. You're gonna make such a beautiful mama." Miguel moaned. You couldn't form any words. Every ounce of your strength was going to keeping yourself upright. You gripped the edge of the table and held on for dear life. You could see your face reflected in the monitor in front of you, the orange lights illuminating your fucked out expression. Your lips were slightly puffy from Miguel sucking on them and your eyes were half open. Miguel noticed you looking into your reflection and smirked.

"You like watching me fuck you, amor? You do make such a beautiful sight. You can barely keep your eyes open, can you? Do I make you feel that good, baby? Answer me."

"Y-yes, Miguel you- ohmygod- you make me feel amazing. You're so deep inside me...fuck, you're gonna make me cum soon!" You cried. Miguel laughed darkly. "Oh you're gonna cum a few times for me, cariño. As many times as it takes." He growled. Hooking his arm under your knee, he lifted one of your legs onto the table, angling himself so he could fuck deeper into you. His pace sped up and the feeling of his cock so deep inside you had you screaming. The monitors not attached to the ceiling toppled over and crashed to the floor of the platform but Miguel kept his pace as if he didn't even hear them. You didn't even have time to announce it before your orgasm hit you, soaking Miguel's cock and stomach with your wetness. Still his pace did not slow. If anything, it spurred him on even more. "Así baby, cum all over me, princesa. Fuck you're such a good girl for me.." Miguel groaned in approval.

Grabbing your hair, Miguel pulled your head back and pressed kisses to the side of your face as he continued fucking you. "Que linda...eres tan hermosa, amor." He murmured, his gentle words a stark contrast to the rough movements of his hips. "Tell me you love it, princesa." "Ohhhh I l-love it s'much! S'fucking good!" You slurred, your brain foggy from the overstimulation. You were so blissed out you didn't realize your mouth had been hanging open and drool had fallen from your tongue. Miguel smirked when he noticed. "Oh princesa you're drooling, huh? Am I fucking my baby stupid? This cock too much for my dumb little whore, hm?" All you could do was nod and whimper in response. "Oh pobrecita..." Miguel crooned.

He reached around you and rubbed your clit as he slammed his hips against your ass. Your moans and whimpers grew loud as another orgasm washed over you, your nails clawing at the table.

"M-Miguel please...I c-can't." You sobbed, your legs shaking, dangerously close to giving out. Miguel bent over you and nibbled gently on your ear lobe. "What happened to 'I can take it, Miguel. I'm not fragile, Miguel'?" He taunted. You let out another sob of pleasure as he lifted your leg back onto the table and smacked your ass before gripping it tightly. "Don't worry, princesa. Gonna fill that pussy up soon, gonna put a baby in you and make you a mama. Fuck, amor, you're gonna look so beautiful all swollen with my babies. Gotta fuck it into you deep, baby." He moaned. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his words. "Fuck yes, cum inside me Miguel. Please fill me up! I need it!" You begged. Miguel cursed and gripped your hips hard enough that surely bruises would be there later. Sweat dripped from his hair and a thin sheen of sweat made his chest glisten.

He pounded into you hard, chasing his release. Your screams of pleasure filled his ears and soon he was seeing stars as his release finally hit. His whole body shuddered as he emptied his load inside you, coating your walls in his warm, sticky cum. With a loud grunt, he pressed his hips flush against your ass, making sure he was totally spent before pulling back out of you. Your legs gave out completely and you collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. Miguel quickly joined you, pulling your trembling body against his sweaty chest. Panting against your skin, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. His actions were gentle but as he kissed your cheek, he murmured in your ear.

"Get your rest now, amor. I'm not even close to done with you."

[etherealily]

𝟡 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 // Nate Jacobs.

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Darker. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 3 : Blessed Part 4 : Shards Part 5 : Eighteen Bonus Chapter : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You should be grateful.

════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ════════════════════

He wasn't supposed to text you. He was supposed to take the beating you'd given him for being a prick, like a man, and shut the fuck up about it.

But here you were, midnight, staring at the chat that had started it all.

'yo, u up?'

You rolled your eyes, going back to your scrolling.

'I hate seenzoners.'

You liked his message.

'That's so much worse.'

'The fuck do u want?'

Nate Jacobs sent a voice message.

You could have just ignored it. You could just block him. You could just… stop. But the allure was far too much. The urge of finding out what he wanted was too strong.

"Guess where I am."

He could've just texted that. No need for a voice message, but he was Nate Jacobs.

"I don't know, the psych ward?"

"You wanna know? You'll have to drive and follow my instructions, though. You trust me enough for that?"

Ha. No fucking chance. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Oh, so you'll text me, but won't see me in person?"

His voice was oddly sultry, as if he'd either just woken up or hadn't slept for days. Most likely the first one.

"Bingo. Go to sleep, Jacobs."

And then he sent you a picture of him from the bleachers of your school's football stadium - how the fuck did he get in?

"C'mon, don't you want to see what our school looks like at night?"

Uh, yes. But with him? No.

"It's 12:05, ASSHOLE. No fucking way."

"This is the scene where you cave and meet me and we have a cute little nighttime school montage where we sit and talk about life."

You listened to that message a good four times before you stopped laughing.

"This is the scene where I block you."

"I will come over if you don't come to the school. Uh, y'know, if you want your parents to think you're fooling around with the QB."

"I will literally shoot you if you come within fifty feet of my house."

"Come. I'll make it worth your while."

Was it possible to hear smirks?

"I'm not coming, Nate."

No way he was actually at the high school. It was probably an insanely good edit.

"You will be."

The FUCK was that supposed to mean? Not like he could force you to show up.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure. Fifty bucks says you show up to the high school tonight."

"Not blowing fifty bucks on anything, even if I do win."

"What's it going to take for you to come? Look, I-I know it's been weird, and I might've scared you, but that's… that wasn't my intention, I swear."

Yeah, his intention was just to show you what his blood looked like. You liked his message once more, rolling your eyes.

"Dude, seriously, I swear, I'm not like, a serial killer or anything. You can bring pepper spray, a taser, whatever, if it makes you feel better. I'm just- okay, fuck, you're right. Dumb idea, trying to convince you like this."

Wait, okay, good. That was good. He was getting the message.

Another voice message.

"I forgot who I was talking to. You leave me no choice."

"What?" No.

And then, you received a video. He was teetering off the edge of the top-most row of bleachers. With a gun at his head.

"Come on, Y/N, this is getting really sad, that the only way I can grab your attention is by almost killing myself."

"I don't care. Do whatever. Not falling for it this time."

═════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"FUCK!", you yelled, as you found yourself running frantically through the school football field for the second time in two weeks.

You'd actually kept your word for a while, pushing out every Nate-related thought for a good night's sleep - you didn't fall for it.

Until McKay called and informed you that Nate wasn't picking up his phone - and that his last message was something along the lines of : 'Call Y/N if you don't hear from me in the next couple of minutes'.

He was deranged. Playing Russian Roulette with his own life was absolutely deranged.

"You actually showed."

GOOD, he was still alive, meaning you could kill him.

You didn't speak. That would simply complicate things, because then you'd have to look at him.

"Plus, you didn't flinch when you saw me. Think that's a win for me in the trust department."

You stood there, glaring at him as he jumped down from the bleachers, even doing that dangerously, as if he was a cat with nine lives, or he was playing a video game and would just respawn.

"You know, you could say something."

He wasn't getting impatient, though, like his tone was trying to portray. No, he was getting more amused. He liked this. He liked the fact that he got you to come to a basically abandoned-for-the-holidays-high school at midnight. He reveled in it.

"Like hey, Nate, thanks for convincing me to actually live a little for a change instead of staying cooped up in my house.", he suggested.

You punched him.

Yeah. You kept running across that field till you were close enough and you punched him right then and there.

You full-on punched him, shoved him back, slapped him, clawed at him. "Stop FUCKING doing this to me! STOP! You can't FUCKING do this to me!", you screamed, hitting him repeatedly on his chest.

He took every beating, and the fact that it seemed he was trying not to laugh just egged you on even more to actually kill him, make his nose bleed, make his head fall clean off his egotistical body.

Eventually, though, it seemed even Nate Jacobs had his limit. He grappled against your hands as he held them between both your chests, clenching his jaw. He wouldn't risk saying anything, seeing as your eyes were already burning with tears.

"You…", you cried out as he shifted his grip on your hands to only one hand, wrapping the other around you. "…Can't keep…"

"Shh, shh, I know.", he muttered as he rested his chin on your head. "Shh, I had to."

"No, you didn't."

He kissed your head, then your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and stopped for a moment, hovering over your lips but not touching them, as though he was more scared than you were. "You know I did."

You wondered if he could taste the tears, whether he relished it. Knowing what little you did of him, he might have.

"I would've come."

"No, you wouldn't have. Shh." He was right, but there had to be some other way.

"You know what, sweetheart?"

It was sickening how he could do this to you and then use words of endearment against you.

"You should actually be grateful."

And that's when you noticed that he was actually gripping onto your hair, tightening it when your face didn't show any contortion due to pain (only contortion due to unbridled rage and the urge to stab him with your car keys).

"I usually hurt people to get what I want. With you, I'm hurting myself."

You fought the urge to say 'so fucking what?'

"You're not bleeding, baby, that's what you don't get. You're untouched, and safe, and not bleeding. Me, however?"

What was his point? That he was being a gentleman by scaring you half to death instead of having a normal adult conversation?

"I'm bleeding. I'm hurt. I'm in pain. But I'm still holding you."

He said it with exaggerated magnanimity, like he was doing you a favour, or something, like all your problems, trauma, worries, stress, had just disappeared because he was holding you in his 'big strong arms'.

"Then stop!"

"Neither of us wants me to stop holding you."

"I do."

He grinned, knowingly, with a subtle shake of his head. "No, you don't."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go, Nate."

"Fine. Because you called me Nate and not Jacobs.", he nodded, letting go of you and throwing up his arms. "Don't hit me again."

"Was McKay in on this?"

He frowned momentarily, before realization swept over his face. "Shit. Yeah, no, he wasn't. I should text him, huh?"

Oh, now he was asking if he should be a courteous human being?

You watched him loathingly, as he typed out what you guessed was a half-assed apology.

'Sorry, McKay, I'm good, man. Chicks, y'know?' or some absolutely fucked up shit like that, to be sure.

"Done. Now, will you stop being so square and enjoy the fact that you're here at school at midnight?"

"What?" Enjoy?

"I'll bet this is your first time out at midnight period, let alone your first time out at midnight somewhere you're not legally supposed to be."

"Why am I here?"

The condescending look he gave you set your teeth on edge. 'Oh, poor, naive girl. Of course she doesn't even know why she's here. This is why I told her to stay in my grasp. She never listens.'

FUCKING ASSHOLE.

"You're my good luck charm. My good luck charm, but I heard you're fucking Shane. You can't be doing that."

The softness in his movements, the gentleness, it had either completely stopped, or entirely overshadowed the fact that he had put you through yet another nerve-wracking event that would raise your blood pressure.

Shane who, Shane who, Shane- oh. Shane.

Not so much fucking as went on one date with, but it was better for everyone if Nate thought you had already gone that far.

"Why not?"

"He's a punk."

"You're one to talk."

"Look, he plays defense. What if you're just, like, intensely fortunate? Can't have him sneak in a quickie before the game and then he's lucky."

It's like he wanted you to punch him again.

"He's on your team. You'll win anyway."

He shrugged, as though he could see where you were coming from, but was about to respectfully absolutely ruin your argument.

"I like to win."

"Not a team player, are you?"

"Never claimed to be."

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

He was so clearly getting frustrated with your lack of response - the initial dopamine and thrill of being a disgusting element of surprise by shooting/not-shooting himself in the head gone.

But what could you say?

You'd already ghosted Shane after the date had tanked, so technically there was no reason for you to still be here. The chances of a 'lucky quickie' were virtually zero.

And so, you just stood there, the two of you, with inexplicable rage pooling within.

Your senses were heightened, your emotions wilder than the crazed look in your eyes as he stood there, looking down at you like an adult looking down at their childhood toy. As if you were the naivest, most precious, pathetically adorable thing he owned, reminding him of a simpler time.

At this point, even a rabbit's foot had been treated with more respect than you.

And you hated every moment of it because it was thrusted upon you, just like the silence of the eerie, void-like field you two were in.

"Why are you like this, Y/N?", he groaned, with the nerve to sound tired.

You? Why were you like this? What about him?

"You're… so cold." His hands flexed as if they were about to move from your hair to your throat. "Just… let loose, please. You're the reason I'm winning, I'd at least like to get to know you!"

"Oh, so this is like, an interview? Is she good enough to be associated with me? You think you're hot shit? Dude, I- you gotta realize how fucked up all of this is."

You were practically pleading. Acknowledge your absurdity, Nate Jacobs, please.

"Hey, whoa, look, you chose to associate yourself with me. Not my problem, ok?", he spat back, clearly happy with the return of banter.

"I didn't choose any of this!"

"You requested to follow me after I followed you. You chose not to block me after I followed you."

"You're putting this all on me?"

That's what normal people do ; they follow people back! He was grasping at straws, but it still seemed as though he had an iron grip on them.

"There wouldn't have been a first time if you didn't care so goddamn much." Like he was mocking you. You almost screamed. You almost hit him. He was so nonchalant.

But that… rang true. However, the humanitarian in you was adamant that there was absolutely no one cold enough to shrug off a video of someone slicing so effortlessly into their palm and exposing their blood so unabashedly.

Well, except Nate Jacobs himself.

"But, y'know what, Y/N?", he said, clearing his throat, matter-of-factly. "That's all in the past. Because now, now, we're going to sort out this arrangement between us and everything will go back to normal."

Normal? Normal as in, both of you go back to being strangers? Unlikely.

"Arrangement?"

"How this thing is going to go. Before every game, you fist-bump me. You don't touch any other players whatsoever, Blackhawk or otherwise."

Great, he was policing who you could fist-bump now.

"I- you brought me here at midnight for this?"

"Uh, no, I brought you here at midnight for fun.", he replied, scoffing. "But since you wanted to be all violent and physical, I thought we should stick to business."

Did he mean to be this insufferable? Was it a bit? There was no way an actual human being could act like this, yes? There was no way anyone could think that this was a justifiable response to a genuine question. Right?

At this point, you didn't know anymore.

Nate Jacobs had officially stumped you.

"If I say okay, can I leave?"

"No, you cannot leave, but you definitely can go sit over there and think about your little attitude before I bring out the tequila."

He burst out laughing at your annoyed face, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulder in an oddly possessive display of 'familiarity'.

"Relax. Loosen up, like I said, and you'll be fine.", he snorted, and that was your only indication that he did not, in fact, actually wish to put you into time-out.

The insane man with a gun had a sense of humour, apparently.

"You brought tequila?"

"I told you, the whole point of tonight was fun and getting to know the reason I'm winning better. So, sit."

You sat, still glaring up at him. You must have looked absolutely fucking cute or something, because he pouted at you before reaching into a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before and whipping out two bottles of straight tequila.

"Body shots?"

"Jacobs…"

"I'm joking, I'm joking. You'll come around soon, though. They all do."

Great. That's brilliant. You'd been reduced from a stranger, to a bitch, to a joke, to now a stereotype. This was just spectacular.

"Why me?"

That question seemed to genuinely catch him off-guard.

Good. Now he knows what this past week with him has been like.

"Hm?'

"Why me? Why am I the good luck charm?"

"I don't know."

"You could just be a really good player. You don't know, you haven't gone a single game without it, so you assume you're winning because of it."

"The third game was the one you weren't there for. You must remember hearing about it, though? Most embarrassing game for East Highland, I swear. 34-nil? That was shameful. That's why I decided, fourth game onwards, I wouldn't have to risk it because I got you."

Shit. That actually made sense.

"Okay, now you tell me.", he began, slightly turning the bottle in his hand around and examining the contents, curiously. "Shane Crestin? Seriously?"

"What?"

He scoff-snickered, taking an impressively large gulp before answering. "Y/N, the guy's a tool."

Look who's talking.

"He asked me out after the game."

"So, he knows you're my good luck charm.", he said, quietly, like a king trying to figure out where his men's loyalties lay.

Did Julius Caesar have a girl who he gaslit in order to get her to watch him in battle because of superstition? If so, she'd have been the first to stab him.

"Of course he knows, you made a huge spectacle of it that first time."

"Oh, yeah. But still, what a bastard. Trying to steal my lucky girl and her luck like that."

You needed to do a lobotomy on this man, seriously.

It wasn't even like you could ask him what the hell that meant because that would just bring him immense amounts of joy.

"You're not drinking. Why?", he inquired, opening the second bottle and forcing it to your lips.

You frowned as you held onto it. "I don't drink."

"Oh, bullshit. Come on, drink, don't be a nerd."

"I said no, okay?"

"Wait, do you not want to drink around me?"

He was really going above and beyond to break the 'dumb jock' stereotype, wasn't he?

"I can't believe it.", he continued, leaning back on the bleachers as he watched your face. "After all this, you don't trust me."

After all this, he said, as if he had spent his entire life working solely for your benefit. Like a tired mentor.

"I mean, dude, this is like… such a bitch move, you know that? I'm just trying to be nice."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Nate."

"Uh, trust me? Thought we were cool now, Y/N. You think I'm going to get you blackout drunk then have my way with you? Rape you? Are you scared to be around me? At midnight? In a quiet, empty football stadium where no one would think to look for you?", he questioned, still holding your gaze as he lifted his bottle to his mouth.

The elaboration of that statement unnerved you.

"I don't think you're going to rape me, I'm just-"

"Just scared of the possibility?"

"Don't take it personal, but-"

"There's no other way to take it. You're all but accusing me of assault. I thought you were different."

Was that meant to make you melt? 'Oh, no, I'm just like everyone else in that I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, the horror!'

"Maybe I'm not.", you shrugged.

"But you came. Tonight. No one else would have. So maybe you're a judgmental bitch like everyone else, but you've at least got your stupidly huge heart going for you."

If you strained your ears, that almost sounded like a compliment.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Drink, Y/N. Please."

Oh, fuck it. You needed that goddamn tequila to shoot through you with a vengeance.

"There we go.", he mumbled, watching you. "Dude, look at you."

"Hm?"

"You're finally badass."

His eyes lit up as he saw your finger enter the scene. He chuckled for a moment. "I'm being serious. I mean, you've beaten me up, what, three times so far - once in front of the entire school - and now you're doing underage shots with me at night at school, which is like, two illegal things at the same time."

See, that's where the difference between the two of you lay.

He thought that was being a badass.

You thought that was being a dumbass.

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"…So yeah. That's why I joined football, basically. Made me feel, like, stronger and more in control, I guess."

This asshole had just told the most human story, and now you had to see him as a person. The cunt.

You watched as he stood in the middle of the field, aiming and shooting at the banners that were strewn up all around the field.

God, he was so fucking terrifying.

How does he play Russian Roulette to bait you into coming one minute and then reload and shoot at banners like a child with his first Nerf the next?

"Control. Yeah, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You want everything to go your way. You get pissed when other people do things of their own will."

"Can't argue with that.", he shrugged, as he turned his back to you and shot another banner, impressively shooting right in the centre of the 'O' in a 'GO BLACKHAWKS!' sign. "You know how to shoot?"

"No."

"You should learn."

"I'll get right on that.", you scoffed, as you observed your tequila bottle intensely, ignoring him coming back to rest his feet on the bleachers from your peripheral vision.

"Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Humour me."

"I've humoured you enough tonight."

"Please? Pretty please?"

You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth. You had no idea what you expected, but it sure as hell was not him stuffing the barrel of his gun in there. You suddenly felt the tequila evaporating from your bloodstream as he slapped your hands away after you tried taking it out, like anyone would. Shit, it hurt. FUCK.

"Just relax.", he whispered, so soothingly that he might as well have been talking you through a panic attack. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Besides the hot gun you've got basically lodged up my throat.

Suddenly, the amount of danger you really were in began to materialize in your head. He was right. It was midnight. It was spring break. It was at high school. No one would think to look for you there.

"Are you scared?"

Oh, God. He was one of those freaks who got off on these things.

You nodded, not really knowing what else to do.

"You think I'll shoot you?"

You shook your head.

"Kill you?"

You shook your head.

"Then why are you scared?"

Honestly, it was the fact that he wasn't going to do either of those things, and decided to shove a gun down your throat simply for shits and giggles.

"You need more tequila."

WHAT?

You frowned, but nodded. Anything to get the gun out of your mouth.

He poured it straight from the bottle into your mouth, watching with sick satisfaction as you swallowed, and you realized that he was psychotically drunk.

"How's that? I do it all the time, y'know? Hot metal plus cold tequila equals the best fucking night ever."

Um, ew. No. But that would be super unwise to say.

"You shove a gun down your throat then take a shot?"

"One of my more dangerous drinking games, yes. God, dude, look at you. Like, you're so fucking uptight, loosen THE FUCK up!"

You were unsure how much 'looser' you could get - you were already going along with his 'dangerous drinking game'.

"I am!"

"Not enough. Not even close. You need more."

"We're all out.", you said, (thankfully) pointing at the empty duffle bag next to him.

"Oh.", he sighed, slumping down next to you and using the duffle bag as a pillow. "Just- I don't get it. What is it about you?"

"That makes you get suicidal?"

He snorted, softly. "That makes me so mad?"

"You're mad?"

"Not like angry-mad. I mean like… crazy-mad. Like I go mad around you."

Five-year-olds could explain things better than him, but, to his credit, he was shitfaced.

"Really? Thought you were born that way."

"I mean, last week? When I kissed you? I don't do that shit. But it was the only way to shut you up. I-ugh. It's you, Y/N. Just fucking up my brain, one game at a time."

"Oh, oh, so you being a psychopath is because I didn't show up to one game?"

"When you're constantly worried about someone needing to be there, you do crazy things. Like cut yourself. I would have done it, too, seriously."

"I know. That's why I came."

"So, we weren't entirely strangers, huh? You knew me a little, at least?"

"Uh, no, we were definitely strangers."

"Now? What are we now?"

"Uh… friends?" You didn't mean that. You wouldn't be his friend if it killed you.

"No, I think I'd know it if we were friends." Phew.

"So, you tell me."

"What? No, you've been in charge this whole time, you tell me."

He just said you'd been in charge.

One offhanded, sweeping statement, and he'd shifted all the blame on you as easy as pie.

How did he do that?

It was obvious what he was referring to: the fact that none of these interactions would have happened if you just hadn't given a shit in the first place.

The fact that every single move of his had been linked to you, in whatever this weird everybody (except you) ante, sketchy poker game he was playing was supposed to be.

And it unnerved you.

Because in some twisted way, it was true.

"Acquaintances."

"But we've kissed.", he reminded, diligently and unwantedly. "Acquaintances - and classmates, before you suggest that - don't just kiss."

"Dude, then what do you want to be?"

Shit. That was what he'd wanted all along. For you to ask in exasperation, to give you his interpretation.

"You know, just… an average relationship between a man and his good luck charm." He inched closer, his hand loosening its grip on the railing as if it was going to do something, but there was no more tequila to reach out for.

There was only you.

And reach, he did.

First, his hands were on your cheek, like they had been a half hour ago. Then, suddenly, they were in your hair, and his tongue was trying to coax your words out of you directly from the source.

And you just let it happen.

If anyone knew why you let it happen, you'd have loved to start a suggestion box.

But you had a funny feeling that the only person who knew why was Nate Jacobs himself.

Fat chance he'd tell you.

[ennn]

Re: “Rio's goal is to kill Agatha so she can be with her forever”

My brother in Christ, if Rio's ultimate goal this series was to kill Agatha we wouldn't have gotten past the first episode.

Okay okay, I get how it can be confusing because Rio literally says she wants to see Agatha dead in episode one and tells Agatha she'll let the Salem Seven (who do want Agatha dead) know where she is.

But it is noteworthy that Rio tells Agatha what she is going to do and when the Salem Seven are expected to arrive. Rio is usually surprisingly fair in how she deals with Agatha.

Rio has always met Agatha at her power level

In episode one, even assuming Agatha was protected by Wanda's spell and Rio couldn't harm her there, once it was broken Rio went "full analog" – to quote Hahn – with her knife, the only magic she used being the wind blasts.

Guys, that's not a serious murder attempt, that's foreplay to them. Violent, bloody, sexy foreplay.

Also Rio has healing powers. That's a thing they have very clearly shown.

To be clear, my read is that Rio can't actually kill anyone before their time ("You can't kill me, it's not allowed") just hurt them really really badly until they maybe choose to die ("I can make you wish you were dead"). Which you could argue equals killing I suppose, just slower.

But this is Agatha Harkness: all she really needs to survive is a bit of time to scheme and manipulate and do her usual girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting – and I think Rio also knows this. Agatha keeps surprising her, for better and worse.

Yes, Rio gets BIG MAD in episode 8 because Agatha says possibly The Worst Thing to her but the first part of their confrontation is technically physical torture, not murder attempts.

I know it sounds like I'm splitting hairs here but my point is that having Agatha dead isn't Rio's ultimate #1 goal. It's not so clean and easy.

There's something to be said about how the wounds Rio inflicts speak to how Rio sees herself hurt by Agatha emotionally in the relationship i.e. death by a thousand cuts, the severing of her Achilles tendon.

There’s probably something also be said about the relationship a being like Rio has with physical pain. Trees feel pain. Everything living does. Rio mocks Agatha for dulling herself to it using dark magic.

But I digress.

Anyway, note: it's only after Agatha gets magic back that Rio starts throwing magic blasts – and even then she seems to be holding back.

These two are possibly the worst two witches to fight each other directly like this because Agatha can't absorb Rio's magic or she'll die. She has to actively block or avoid all hits. And I bet this isn't something Agatha is used to dealing with considering she had no issues taking Wanda's magic.

And Rio is aware of this because she’s just lobbing quick little green blasts Agatha's way. It's not a torrent of magic like what Agatha is gleefully unleashing.

It's also the Watsonian (in-universe) explanation as to why this fight is so short. Because you literally can't straight up fight Death. Rio is a hard counter to Agatha's special siphoning ability just like how Agatha was a hard counter to Wanda's magic (insert your scissors-paper-stone visual of choice).

Rio doesn't want Agatha dead, she wants Agatha to want her

It's clear that Rio is grieving when Agatha dies. This isn't the outcome she wants. They're also both crying during the kiss it's great.

Rio wants what Agatha specifically tries to deny in the deal Agatha proposes: she wants to keep pursuing Agatha, to keep seeing her, provoking her, to be shocked and surprised by her. To keep loving her but also, to keep hurting her.

Because Agatha also hurts her right back. And Agatha knows she has Rio constantly on the emotional backfoot, that Rio – despite centuries of hatred thrown her way – still humours her more often than not and what levers to push.

I don't think this can happen with Agatha dead and gone.

To be fair, we don't know what the rules are in this world's afterlife. The only insight we get into Rio's job is her scene with Alice and that still leaves a lot of things unanswered: Does Rio just escort souls to a destination or does she have more control beyond that, like a domain? Can souls refuse to go with Rio? How do ghosts happen?

I had previously assumed Rio needed to allow it but Schaeffer says that her vision in that moment has Agatha's using an evolved form of the power to take Rio's magic by touch.

And with that, it's telling that it's Agatha who ultimately ensures that she dies (with the "calculated risk" of becoming a ghost), siphoning Rio's death magic energy.

Agatha embraces death, embraces Rio, but she also doesn't – Rio's clever witch got away again.

[suiana]

Hey!! I hope that you are having an amazing day 💞💞💞 If requests are open, may you please write some hsr yandere!Sunday headcannons?

✎ yandere! sunday headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― possessiveness, manipulation, obsessiveness etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! character)

✎ yandere! sunday who can't help but adore you. he'd never have thought someone who'd capture his heart would be so near to him! right here in the heart of penacony! of course he's going to talk to you! what, did you think he'd just ignore someone who's got his attention?

✎ yandere! sunday who is extremely touchstarved and probably fell for you because you hugged him once and told him he was cool. yeah bird man liked how warm your hug felt, what about it?

✎ yandere! sunday who gets to know you better as the perfect family head. surely you'd fall for him, right? i mean, he's perfect in every single way. you'd be a fool to reject him. and of course u rejected him😜🙏

✎ yandere! sunday who's absolutely flabbergasted when you reject his proposal to be his. what? are you serious? out of his league? duh he knows that- you're supposed to be thankful that he proposed the idea and accept!

✎ yandere! sunday who hates it when things don't go his way. he's a perfectionist and everything has to go according to plan... oh wow would you look at that? you went against his plans and rejected him! even said you wanted to be friends... hah! he couldn't believe you said that! you don't know how hard he bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing at you.

✎ yandere! sunday who subtly changes the way he acts towards you. no, he's not acting passive aggressive. you're just delusional. what do you mean he's glaring at you? it's just the angle silly!

✎ yandere! sunday who obviously looks over you with his weird robot bird drone things. they resemble a real bird fairly closely (save for the Family crest he has embedded in them) and he'd be an idiot to not have an eye on you 24/7.

✎ yandere! sunday who's an obsessive freak and you'd think you'd know how obsessive he is by now but... it's far more worse than what you'd expect. bro has a whole ass shrine dedicated to you, and you just know that he has a small dreamscape designed for you. bro will throw you in there if you misbehave 💀

✎ yandere! sunday who gets other people to do the dirty work for him. he's a man of status, why would he need to dirty his hands? plus, he hates it when things get dirty. how uncouth.

✎ yandere! sunday who always has a smile on his face. you bet your ass he's going to be smiling when he tells you that your family mysteriously died in the dreamscape. of course, he's going to feign sympathy and comfort you but... there certainly won't be a frown on that gorgeous face of his.

✎ yandere! sunday who gracefully accepts you into his arms when you come crying to him that you can't leave. oh you poor thing. you did the wrong right thing coming to him for help. he'll definitely help you through this tough time. by making it worse 💗

✎ yandere! sunday who molds you into his perfect lover. oh dear me, you're permanently stuck in the dreamscape with him! it's an error no one has experienced before and you need to stay here with him to ensure your safety! no it's not a lie, why would he do that? after all, he only wants the best for you. don't worry, you can pass time by being his cute darling for now!

✎ yandere! sunday who will never let you go. and... why would you want to escape in the first place? he loves you and you love him now, don't you? besides, he's sweet, handsome, charming... you will never find someone better than him. so don't misbehave and just stay with him, won't you? besides, the Family doesn't tolerate traitors in the slightest. and you're a part of the family now, aren't you? his beloved little darling ♡

✎ "oh dear, now where do you think you're going my love?"

[storiesforallfandoms]

junker ~ beck oliver;victorious

word count: 2011

request?: no

description: after her car breaks down in front of the dreamy boy’s house, he helps her to fix it

pairing: beck oliver x female!reader

warnings: swearing, one mention of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

“No,” you said to yourself as your car began to slow. “No, no, no!”

You hit your steering wheel in frustration as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road.

This wasn’t the first time you had encountered issues with your shitty excuse for a car. It was definitely because the car was older than your parents. It was a miracle it even started in the first place, which, to be fair, it didn’t most of the time. You had no idea what your parents were thinking in buying you this hunk of junk to be your first car. They didn’t have to buy you a brand new sports car or anything, but they could’ve gotten you something from this decade at least.

You got out o the car to inspect what had happened. You opened the hood of the car and inspected inside. You couldn’t tell if anything was off because it all just looked the same to you. There was probably something, but you weren't exactly knowledgeable on cars.

You exclaimed in frustration and kicked the wheel, followed by a string of expletives as pain exploded from your toes.

“Car troubles?”

You turned to see a boy around your age stood at the end of a driveway.

“It just stopped,” you said. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you realized how screwed you were. You were a few blocks away from home, so walking wasn’t necessarily off the table, but it would take you a while to get home. Not to mention you had no idea how you’d get the car back to your place, or off the road at all.

“Here, bring it into my driveway,” the boy said. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“How are we gonna get it into your driveway? It’s like...dead dead.”

He approached the car, taking a quick glance at the still open hood before reaching to close it. “Put it in neutral. I’ll push, you can steer.”

You weren’t sure if that sounded like a good idea - one person pushing a car on their own didn’t seem super doable - but you had no other choices. So, you got back into your car, waiting for him to get in place, then shifted the car into neutral. You started turning the wheel, shifting the car towards the driveway. It took a while, but eventually the two of you had managed to get the car into his driveway. You put it back in park as he came around to pop the hood again.

“I’m Beck, by the way,” he said as you got out of your car.

“(Y/N),” you responded. “Thanks for the help. I thought I was screwed.”

“Why are you driving a junker like this? It must be like, a century old.”

“My parents got it for me when I got my license. Something about wanting to get an older car as my first one until I learn responsibility, I guess?”

“So they gave you a rolling death trap?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, basically. I bet they’ll regret that now.”

Beck leaned in to get a better look at something. “When did they buy it?”

You shrugged. “A few weeks ago, I think.”

“Well, they’ll definitely regret however much money they wasted on this thing. It’s completely dead.”

Your eyes widened. “What?!”

Beck stood back up. “There’s not a single thing that works in this thing now. Engine is toast, battery zapped, starting motor gone. It’s a wonder this thing ever worked in the first place.”

You let out a long groan. As if your luck couldn’t get any worse. What were you supposed to do now without a car? You couldn’t go back to relying on your parents to drive you everywhere, and you certainly were not about to start taking the bus to school again.

“Do you have a phone?” Beck asked.

“It’s dead,” you said. “I was on my way home anyways, I thought I’d be fine.”

“Listen, mine is in my RV. You can use it to call your parents if you want.”

You eyed the silver RV in the yard. “You live in there? When there’s...a house?”

He chuckled. “I prefer to be on my own. The RV was the only compromise my parents would come to. If you’d rather not come in, I understand. I can bring my phone out instead if it would make you more comfortable.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. It’s starting to get dark, so it’s probably best if I wait inside instead of out here while it gets cold.”

Beck nodded for you to follow him into his trailer. It was a decent size, big enough for one person living there. It was also evident that a teenage boy lived there given the mess. Beck must’ve noticed, too, because he quickly started picking up dirty clothes and laundry from the floor, mumbling something about ignoring the mess. You quietly giggled to yourself.

Beck passed you his phone. You sat down on his couch and dialed your mom’s number first. It rang for a long time before an automated message told you she was away from the phone. You hung up and tried your dad’s number, only to have the same outcome. You rolled your eyes and hung up, handing the phone back to Beck.

“They must be busy,” you said. “God, this sucks. What am I going to do?”

Beck sat down next to you. He was close enough to you that you could feel his shoulder brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of your situation: alone in a trailer with a boy who was incredibly cute. A broke down car, no way to get home until your parents answered your calls. You shuffled awkwardly in your seat, looking down at your lap when looking into Beck’s eyes became too much.

“I could drive you home,” he offered. “Then, when your parents are home, you can tell them what happened and where the car is. Then they can decide if they want to come get it, or they can leave it here and I can salvage whatever parts I can from it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think there’s anything salvageable from that car?”

“Well...the tires.”

You both laughed. You knew you should be getting home, but part of you also didn’t want to leave yet. Sure, you would still see Beck again whenever your parents decided to come get the car - if they decided to come get the car - but after that you may never see him again. He wasn’t familiar to you, and you were sure you’d remember someone like Beck at your school, so that meant he went to a different school. The likeliness of you two ever crossing paths again were incredibly slim.

But you also couldn’t just invite yourself into his place to stay for a while. You were still a stranger to him, and him to you technically. And you probably should get home so you could charge your phone, just so your parents didn’t start freaking out if they tried to call you and couldn’t get through.

So, you took Beck’s offer and followed him to his car. It was definitely a lot nicer than your old piece of junk. You were almost embarrassed that he had to see what you were driving before. The one silver lining to this whole situation was that your parents might actually buy you a good car after all of this.

You knew it was going to be a short ride to your house, so you had to make the most of it. You looked over at Beck and asked, “So, what school do you go to?”

“Hollywood Arts,” he responded.

“Oh! So that’s why I haven’t seen you around. You’re too busy becoming a big star.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Trying to, at least. I’m not a singer like most of the people who attend that school. I’m trying to become an actor after I graduate.”

“Hey, the world needs actors. That doesn’t sound like an impossible dream to achieve.”

He shrugged. You felt like the conversation was drifting away, and you desperately wanted it to keep going.

“I do appreciate what you did for me,” you said. “Most people in LA probably would’ve driven right past me and wished me luck.”

“I couldn’t let you just stay there stranded right in front of my place,” he said. “What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t offer the pretty girl some help?”

Your face immediately burned at his compliment. You quickly looked away so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were.

“Still, I appreciate it,” you said. “And the ride home. I probably could’ve walked, come to think of it.”

“No way. I wasn’t going to let you walk when I have a perfectly good car that could’ve driven you home.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

He chuckled. You noticed the car slowing to a stop, and when you looked up you saw that you were in front of your house. You almost deflated with disappointment. Your time with Beck was finally, and unfortunately, coming to an end. There was no way you’d be able to see him again, you were sure of that. It was already pretty clear the both of you wouldn’t be running into each other at schooling events, unless you managed to make it out to a performance at Hollywood Arts that Beck just so happened to be starring in.

“This is me,” you said, trying to keep the sadness from your voice.

“So it is,” Beck said with a nod.

You looked down at your lap, trying to stall as much as possible. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I can repay you for all of this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I wanted to? I mean, surely there’s something else I could do or give you as a way of saying thanks. Something more than that lump of junk that’s still sat in your driveway.”

He made a face. “No, that’s a terrible thank you gift actually.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying I want to give you an actual thank you gift.”

He thought for a moment and you waited patiently for his answer. Finally, he looked back at you and said, “There is something you could give me.”

“What is it?”

“Your number.”

He was holding his phone out to you. You looked from his phone up to his face. You were almost sure this wasn’t real, that you were hallucinating that this was happening. But the longer it took for you to take Beck’s phone and put your number in it, the more his face was starting to show worry. As if you were about to turn him down.

“Yes!” you finally blurted. “I mean...yeah. Yeah, I can...I can do that.”

He seemed amused by your flusteredness. You quickly took his phone and typed in your name and number before handing it back to him.

“You better get your phone charged,” he said. “Otherwise, how am I supposed to try and plan a date with you?”

Oh, he smooth.

You wanted to say something back that was equally as smooth, but you were at a loss for words. Instead, you just nodded your head for a long time, like a crazy person, before finally saying goodbye for real and getting out of his car. You could feel him watching you as you walked up to your front door and let yourself in. He didn’t leave until the door closed behind you, and even then he waited for you to lock it and turn on the light over the door.

Once you were alone, you leaned back against the door and you couldn’t stop the wide smile that broke out across your face.

Okay, at least there were two silver linings to that stupid thing breaking down.

[beah388love]

Fight or Flight

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!F1 Driver

Summary: You have an anxiety attack before a race and Lando comforts you

Warnings: Anxiety,reader has an anxiety attack, mentions of trauma,swearing,bad language!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

This wasn’t your first race. So you didn’t know why you felt so…Anxious?

It’s not like you was scared to go against your boyfriend Lando, you always go against each other and made a promise to each other that no matter who wins or loses it won’t interfere with your relationship after all it’s just a race.

But today you felt so scared, like you wanted to just run anywhere literally anywhere.

You woke up and felt landos soft fingertips stroking up and down your arm and you could feel him staring at you.

“you awake?” He asked and you nuzzled your face into his chest deeper before looking up at him with a smile “yeah” you breathed out tiredly.

As soon as you woke up you could feel that pressure on your chest. And the feeling like your hearts in your stomach.

But you tried to ignore the feeling hoping it would go away, maybe it was just pre-race nerves…

yeah it’s just pre-race nerves!

Nothing to worry about….its not like before.

“We better get up soon baby….i can hear my phone pinging with messages” Lando joked making you giggle, you sat up and lando pulled you back down on top of him, giving you a kiss on the forehead making you squeal “lan!”

“What? Can I not give my girlfriend a kiss?” He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully

“You don’t have to yank my arm down to give me one” you sassed back making him laugh.

-

As you and lando walked in, you felt your heart fall down into your stomach and your breathing go and that pressure on your chest tighten and hit you ten times harder as you saw the huge crowd and the sound of everyone talking echoed through your head.

Lando could feel you holding onto his hand tighter than usual but he assumed it was probably because you didn’t want to lose him in the crowds, you both managed to get through the crowd and lando was about to head over to max but you stopped him “Lan I’m gonna go to my drivers room Kay?” You said loudly so he could hear you and he nodded before you left walking away.

“Where’s y/n going?” Max asked “oh- her room she’s fine don’t worry” Lando answered but it was more directed to himself, he could tell you was hiding how you felt from him.

-

You shut your door and locked it before sitting down on the chair and you could feel your breath going, like you couldn’t get any more in just enough that you could live with. It felt like you was suffocating.

And you could feel the pressure on your chest like your heart was going to explode.

You held a hand on your chest and tried to slower your breath in but it didn’t work.

“Fuck…shit please don’t not now.” You muttered to yourself as you felt tears brimming your eyes.

You managed to pull yourself together and wiped your eyes. You put one of landos caps on that you stole and held it down as you left your room.

You sat in the garage on a spare chair in the corner flicking through your phone and you shouldn’t have done it but you clicked onto landos instagram comments on his latest post.

UserA: She literally sucks! She can’t even race! And she obviously doesn’t treat Lando right! Their relationship is probably a social media stunt or a bet or something.

UserB: totally agree with the racing part - I know she got P1 and P2 for her last two races but she got lucky! If you watch her she doesn’t actually know what she’s doing! She’s awful.

That was only two comments at the top and you continued to read the other ones which were way worse…You frowned switching off your phone and tucking it in your hoodie pocket until, you overheard two guys walk past you and say your name.

“Nah she won’t be in the top three, she’s not that good” “yeah bro I agree”

It hurt reading people’s comments and it hurt even worse hearing them in person. You pursed your lips as you tried to hold in your tears.

You quickly walked back to your drivers room and locked the door.

You could feel the pressure in your chest tighten and ball up and it hurt so bad. It was like someone knocked the breath out of you and you could feel your brain going into fight or flight mode and you choose flight. You definitely choose flight-

You sobbed against the wall holding your legs to your chest tightly.

-

“why isn’t she answering my calls?” Lando huffed worriedly to max and he patted him on the arm reassuringly “I’m sure she’s fine Lando..she said she was going to her drivers room no?” Max reminded him and he instantly turned his heel to find you. Max rolled his eyes before heading to go talk to someone else.

“Y/n? Baby? Are you in there?” Lando said loudly so you could hear him “baby open the door it’s me” lando said but froze when he heard that familiar cry…

“Y/n, baby? Open the door” lando said as he kept jiggling the door handle until it unlocked and he saw your tear stained face.

“Baby what happened? Are you okay?” He asked you but you just threw yourself into his arms and sobbed “I- I can’t it hurts s-so bad-“ you cried into his neck and he frowned when he felt your hot tears on his skin.

“Baby…sh whats wrong? What hurts?” Lando hushed softly as he rubbed your back and gently swayed you both as he sat you down on his lap, on the sofa.

“I- I can’t! I can’t go out there- I- I can’t-“ you panicked through broken sobs and he had no idea where this came from.

He could tell you was nervous but he didn’t think you was going to have a full blown anxiety attack. He knew you usually had anxiety attacks over the crowds and people so he always made sure to keep check of you but he thought you was okay today…but he was wrong

Fuck.

“Baby! Hey hey! It’s okay. Just calm down breathe.” He said and held you face to make you look at him. his heart broke when he saw tears coming down your wet puffy cheeks and your now wet eyelashes.

You panicked and could feel your heart beating faster and faster “Lan- I can’t do it! I can’t! I’m gonna mess up! Im gonna embarrass myself! The-there are so many people! I can’t do it-“ you shook your head with broken whimpers and Lando could feel the anxiety coming from you.

“It’s okay” Lando whispered softly repeatedly as he swayed you in his lap. He knew this would help you calm down and it did.

“Baby. Listen to me. You listening?” He asked you and you nodded.

“Breathe with me okay?” Lando said and you nodded softly, he held your hand gently and held it on his chest and breathed with you and eventually it worked and your breathing evened out with his.

“Better?” He asked you and you nodded with a hum “good. Can I tell you something?” He said and you paused for a moment before humming a yes into his chest

“You are one of the best drivers I know. Except for me of course-“ lando said making you giggle. He smiled feeling like he just achieved a life goal, “I’m just kidding but on a serious note. You are going to be amazing. Don’t panic okay. Anxiety is a dickhead.” He said making you giggle again.

“You can do this. You’re an excellent driver and so many people know that, and I know there are dick heads online who say shit but it’s not true.” Lando said and you smiled sadly at him.

“But I know that you’re going to do amazing out there no matter what position you get as long as you try then I don’t care. - a wise person told me that once.” Lando said making you laugh as you thought back to the memory.

- flashback:

Lando had finished P6 and he felt like he failed not only himself but everyone else too. But like he just said.

You had told him those exact words.

You wiped two tears off his cheek and said “lan, I mean this when I say to you. I don’t care no matter what position you get as long as you tried. Then I’m proud of you.” You said softly and he smiled at you and gave you a kiss which you obviously returned.

-back to present:

“Thank you baby, I love you so much.” You said hugging him tightly and nuzzling your face into his neck.

“1. Don’t thank me it’s what I’m here for, and 2. I love you too….even more” he smiled giving you a kiss on the temple.

“Are you ready to go? Or do you want to stay here for a bit longer?” Lando asked you and you shook your head “I’m ready. Let’s go” you said resting your head on his chest.

He nodded as he held your hand rubbing circles on it.

You finished at P1 and lando finished at P2 in qualifying - he said he didn’t let you win but you know he did.

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x F!Reader | Chapter Seven

[Masterlist]

Summary: Things are getting dicey, and only seem to get worse when you are sent out with the person that seems to like you the least.

Warnings: gun violence, mentions of suicide, mentions of sexual acts, blood, mentions of murder, not so healthy dynamics, non-sexual name calling, not beta read (of course, let me know if i happen to miss any <3)

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: I'M BACK AND LOVING BEG AND BARGAIN AGAIN. I do apologize for taking the break, but I feel better now. It was much needed. Things are getting exciting!!! No smut this chapter, but there may will be more soon 😈 divider credit to @sister-lucifer

You are sitting at the table; the last 24 hours have been awkward to say the least. Brian is tense, Toby seems ready to fucking murder you, and Tim is probably the happiest of the bunch. You had been able to do your own thing though. No one had really bothered you since Tim found you in the bathroom.

You are eating a frozen meal, supposedly it’s a Salisbury steak… You aren’t too sure though. But really? At this point you don’t care.

“D-Don’t you go back to w-work soon?” Toby sits in front of you.

Immediately, you tense. Your eyes widen momentarily, before you hide your fear. Toby seems to have caught it though. You snarl your lip up at him, and click your tongue, “What about it?” You grumble at him.

“W-well, what are you gonna do?” He is nosy. He seems curious, but not in a concerned way. More of a snotty kind of way.

Your eyes roll back and you groan, “Toby…” You inhale. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure a-are bratty.” Toby snarls back. “Tim needs to handle that.”

The most disgusting, guttural noise you can muster slips from your throat and a loud laugh follows. You shake your head. You may fear Toby, but you do not need to be put in any place. You almost fall backwards, out of your chair. It's so comical. “Tim?” You almost shout. “Shut the fu-”

Toby’s knuckles are suddenly white, nails digging into his palms. You do not finish your sentence. You swallow hard. “Say it.” Toby’s breath is shaky. “Fi-finish your fucking sentence.” His voice is dangerously low. You inhale sharply and shake your head ‘no’. “What were you g-going to say?” He is fuming. He obviously does not want to shut the fuck up. “Were you- Were you going to make me shut up?” He cocks his head at you.

“No.” Your head drops. Your eyes are cutting up at him through your lashes. You can’t help but be so scared. “But-” You exhale heavily, “I can do that.” It’s like you just remembered you can control him. But with consequences… Toby seems excited when you say this. “I won’t though.” Your voice is soft. “I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. Especially because you still haven’t returned my panties.” You finish your little frozen meal.

Toby looks like he wants to launch the table. “That w-wasn’t me!” He almost screams it at you, leaning across the table. You flinch back. “Why the fuck would I lie about it? I bet it was Brian!” The front door opens. Brian and Tim walk in. “What was Brian?” He cocks his head.

“You took her panties!” Toby is yelling now. You are startled. Brian and Tim seem used to it. “Sh-she thinks I took them, but- but it wasn’t m-me!” Toby is furious. He is standing up now. You feel so small sitting across from him.

“Fine!” You snap, “It wasn’t you! You didn’t fucking do it!” Your voice is strained.

Toby storms off, Tim stops him. His hand hits Toby’s chest and he pushes him back into the living room. The look in Toby’s eyes is absolutely feral. “This is my house! Do not-”

“Shut up.” Brian rolls his eyes. “We need to talk to her.” He points at you. “And ‘we’ includes you.”

Your stomach drops. Tim and Brian walk into the kitchen and sit down at the table. Toby stands a little ways away, in the living room. Fuming. “What’s going on?” You cock your head. Are they finally going to kill me? Am I still useful? You think to yourself. You are sure all color has drained from your face. You want to puke.

“You are supposed to go back to work soon-” Tim starts.

Toby interrupts. “I a-already asked ab-”

“I quit.” You interrupt Toby. Your eyes are on Tim, and Tim alone. You bite the inside of your lip. All of them seem confused. So much so that they all ask you ‘what’ in unison. Toby seems the most frustrated.

“Oh!” He throws his hands in the air. “I s-see! Tim is just s-so fucking good-”

“Toby!” You yell at him without thinking. “What the fuck?”

“I mean,” He scoffs, “yesterday y-you were in his room naked, and now y-you quit your job?” He shakes his head. “What the fu-fuck did you do to her?” Toby is looking at Tim now.

You swallow hard. Your eyes are stuck on Tim. Waiting for his answer. He seems smug. You are praying he doesn’t say something stupid. “Tim-” You whisper at him. “Don’t.” You do not want him to push Toby any further.

“Why’d you quit?” Toby looks back at you. His eyes are dark.

“I had to.” You are baffled. “I can’t work in these conditions!” You want to flail around. “Are you aware of my- our circumstances?”

“Very.” Toby’s voice is low, lethal, full of venom.

You don’t say anything else. You are sitting straight up in your seat, hair standing on end, and eyes wide with fear again. Toby leaves. He stomps to his room and slams his door. Your stomach turns.You let out a nervous laugh, “That guy, huh?” You give an awkward smile to Tim and Brian. “He sure is-” You swallow hard, “-something.”

“Oh, by the way,” Brian smirks at you, “you’re going out with him later.”

Tim immediately shoves his friend. Your stomach leaps into your throat. “What? When? Why?” You ask, full of fear and anger.

“Well, we don’t need you fucking around if you go out with Tim. And Toby’s good at these kinds of missions…”

“What kinds of missions…?” You cock your head.

“The killing kind.”

You are tired. Truly. Exhaustion is catching up to you quickly and you have no way to even rest right now. You have trekked through the woods towards your destination. And to be honest, that could be anywhere. You might as well be walking towards your death. You spot a cabin ahead and figure that's your stop. It's a bit bigger than Toby’s cabin and there is a singular light on. The upstairs light.

You look towards Toby, who is not stopping for anything. “Psst,” you stop walking. “Where are we?” You really have no clue.

Toby grunts and turns towards you. “Wh-who’s the bastard that wants you dead?” He sounds so… done with you. You should obviously know whose house you are at.

Your blood runs cold. “Ethan…?” You ask. You now know, but it still comes out like a question. Toby rolls his eyes and keeps walking towards the cabin. You are stuck briefly. Toby has a way to hide his identity. You do not. Your stomach turns. You quickly creep behind Toby and stay as close as possible to him; as much as you are not sure you want to do that. “How do we do this?” You whisper.

“Follow m-me.” It’s all Toby gives you.

He approaches the door, slowly. And then does the opposite of what you think he’s going to do. Toby’s foot slams into the old wood and the door flings open. Every single light on the bottom floor is off. Toby yanks you into the house and you cover your mouth, keeping in a yelp. It's impossible to see where Toby is moving, but you hear his footsteps; you try to stay close by. Toby grabs your arm and begins to guide you --albeit roughly-- up the steps. There is a light coming out from under a closed door.

Toby does not let you go. As you both near the door your anxiety is rising. You are growing antsy and, more importantly, terrified. Toby briefly releases you and slams into the door. It easily opens, almost falling off of its hinges. Toby steps into the room, you hot on his trail. The lights may be on, but the room is completely empty.

The chair in the corner of the room seems to have been sat in recently, someone is nearby. Ethan is nearby. You swallow hard and look at the back of Toby’s head, waiting for his next move. The hair on the back of your neck begins to stand on end. You begin to turn around and something slams into your head, hard. You stumble forward and slam into Toby, the both of you are sent flying to the ground. You let out a whimper and cry out for help. Cry out for Toby.

He is quick to get back on his feet. You, however, are stunned. You look up and find Toby standing between you and Ethan. His hatchets are now out and he is pissed. He snarls under his muzzle and swings at Ethan. The man dodges and trips Toby, easily moving around him and towards you. Toby hits the ground, his head slamming into the wood floor.

“Come on bitch,” Ethan hisses, “aren’t you gonna control me?”

Your face contorts. You shake your head violently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He pulls a gun off of his hip and brings it to your forehead. “Tell me, cunt, how did John die?” You are stuck. Memories of John the night you had him killed come flooding in. Tears prick your eyes and you hold back a sob. Your eyes are laser focused on Ethan, so much so, you don’t see Toby standing up behind him. “Did you mind control him? Did you force him to put that gun to his head?” Ethan’s voice is steadily rising. “Because I fucking know he did not do that on his own accord!” He screams, spit flying. Toby raises a hatchet. “Do not! I will fucking shoot her!” Ethan pushes the gun harder against your forehead. Toby freezes.

“Please,” You are begging. “I don’t know-” Your eyes screw shut. You shakily inhale and Toby tenses. He needs you to tell that man to back the fuck up. Your eyes open and you begin to speak. “Put your gun down.”

Ethan blinks at you. His hand twitches. Your stomach sinks. It did not work. Ethan laughs; he laughs so hard you are shaken up once more. Tears threaten to spill once again. It did not work. Why did it not work? It’s all you can think as you sit there, about to be fucking murdered. Your eyes shoot to Toby, who seems to be just as baffled.

“Oh,” Ethan smiles, a wickedness you have not seen before takes over him. “This is good. This is really fucking good.” He laughs again. He seems to be breaking. “I’ll handle you in a minute, I have to take care of your little boyfriend first… You sure did move on so quickly!” Ethan directs his attention to Toby, who is most definitely ready to fight. His movements are swift, the gun moving from your forehead to Toby’s direction in milliseconds.

Without thinking, you move and fast. “No!” You scream, pushing yourself up and slamming into Ethan. Your hand grabs his arm, moving the gun upwards. As it goes off, the bullet goes through the ceiling.

“You dumb fucking-” Ethan does not finish his sentence. He whips around as fast as possible, the gun slams into your face, and you fall back down. Your head hits the ground, again. As you are slipping in and out of consciousness, you feel a boot press to the side of your head. Before there is any more pressure placed onto your cheek, the boot is gone. You feel warmth covering your face, but that’s all you can process as you try to stay awake.

You let out a soft sigh and quickly let go. You don’t try anymore. You let yourself go into the darkness.

The sound of birds chirping brings you back to reality. With your eyes closed, you take in your surroundings. You are most definitely on the couch at Toby’s cabin. Your face aches and your head is pounding. You let out a cry and your eyes shut a little tighter. The floorboards creak a bit aways from the couch, footsteps near you.

“Careful.” A voice you do not recognize begins to speak. “You may have a concussion.”

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit up, a little too quickly. You are face to face with a woman. A woman you most definitely do not know. You look around the room, finding no one else, and then back at her. Her dark hair frames her face, her eyes look almost emotionless. Yet, she’s staring at you with an intensity you do not like.

“Who the fuck are you…?” You feel fear. She snorts. She really thinks this is so funny. “I’m not fucking joking, I will make you-”

“Not in this state, you won’t.” She deadpans. “Anyway,” Her head drops to the side, ever so slightly, “I don’t think you’d be okay with the consequences of compelling me right now…”

“Okay… Well, why the hell are you here?”

“This used to be where I slept, before you got here.”

Chills run up your spine. There’s more than just Toby, Brian, and Tim? “Sorry.” That is the only thing you manage to get out. A stupid apology. She rolls her eyes at you. You shift, pulling your legs up to your chest, and you hold on tightly. You can tell the woman finds that weak, you do not care. Not at the moment.

The door of the cabin opens. Brian and Tim walk into the room, some grocery bags in hand. Tim looks at you and the woman and he narrows his eyes. “Kate… I hope you’re being nice.”

“She’s being nice.” You nod at him. Nice enough… You give Tim a soft smile. “Can I ask what happened last night? Is Toby okay?”

Kate is the first to answer you. “After you were knocked unconscious, Toby brought you back here-”

“Is Ethan- Did he-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Kate starts again. “Ethan is alive. If you had not been so reckless he may be dead now-”

“Reckless!?” You snap. “I couldn’t fucking compel him, and he was about to shoot Toby!”

“Do not interrupt me!” Kate snaps back. You immediately lean back, hitting the arm of the couch. “Toby picked saving your ass over killing Ethan. He let Ethan get away to make sure you were safe!” Kate stands up, hands falling from her hoodie pocket. You tense. Everyone is tense. You watch Kate in horror. “Things have shifted since you arrived.” Kate snarls, lowering herself to your level. “For some reason these men just adore you… If that had been me in that fucking house-”

“Wh-what would you have d-done?” Toby enters the room. Your eyes dart towards him.

Kate backs up from you and lets out a frustrated noise. She exits the house abruptly and you look at the men. You let out a nervous laugh and then sigh awkwardly. You look at Toby and mess with the hem of your shirt, placing your feet on the floor.

“Uh, thank you…” You mumble the words.

“What?” Toby cocks a brow at you.

You groan. “Thank you!”

“For what?” He wants you to explicitly tell him why you are thankful.

You want to combust. “For saving me.” You stand up. “You could have easily just- not saved me! But you did. I fucked up, being reckless, or whatever…” You roll your eyes. “But I'm alive at least.” You inhale sharply through your mouth, your nose hurting too badly to breathe through it, “I don’t know what’s really going on in that head of yours,” you narrow your eyes briefly, “or what your feelings are towards me; we all have a lot going on! If you want-” You pause momentarily, causing Toby to tense. “If you want, we can start a new, clean slate…” You wait for his answer. You feel like you are going to die when he just continues to stare. Your face contorts. “We don’t have to actually,” You cross your arms, “We can stay the exact same and I will hold everything you’ve ever done against you forever-”

Toby laughs. “I j-just saved your life, and all y-you’re offering is a clean s-slate?” He is acting as if it’s the most comical thing he’s ever heard.

“I don't owe you anything, actually! But I’m thankful.” You take a step closer to him, feeling a bit braver, knowing he saved your life makes you feel like he does not want to take it. “What do you think you deserve?”

Toby shakes his head. “You-You’ll revoke the cl-clean slate.”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, really, don’t tell me.” You put a hand up and nod.

“Do I get a clean slate?” Brian asks from behind you.

“N-no! You did-didn’t save her life. You just- just recorded her. Fu-fucking creep.” Toby is standing beside you suddenly.

You genuinely cannot tell if Toby is playing around or not. “Toby,” You gently place a hand on his arm, without thinking about it. Toby does not relax; in fact, he grows more tense. “I’m feeling generous. I mean, I did not die. That’s a plus! And, uh, you guys are kind of all I have right now, I don’t want there to be tension in the house…”

“Wow,” Toby smirks at you. He’s about to say something diabolical, “Me- Me saving your life and the h-head you got from Tim really has you f-feeling generous, huh?”

Your hand drops from Toby’s arm. You snap your head towards him and stare, mouth agape. You quickly look at Tim and narrow your eyes. “You fucking told him?”

Tim looks at Brian, mimicking your shock. “You fucking told him?”

Brian laughs, hard and loud. “I mean, yeah. We all kind of live together… It was bound to get out.” He has a point.

You are still upset though. “God, at this rate, Kate knows!” Toby nods at you. You stomp your foot in frustration. “I wish I had a room!” You want to hide.

“Just go to Tim’s.”

Your jaw clenches. “Shut up! I’m trying to start over with your three!” Your fists ball up. “You guys do not make anything easy…”

For a brief moment, it’s normal. As normal as it has been. The four of you are standing in the living room, not fighting, the guys are laughing. Maybe at your expense, but nothing is going wrong. And most importantly, you are alive.

You try to ignore the fact it will not be like this forever.

[tddyhyck]

ice cream thief [ l.dh ]

pairing ⇢ perv roommate!hyuck x afab!reader (mentioned other nct members + karina)

word count ⇢ 12.8k

synopsis ⇢ someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?

warnings ⇢ 18+, dubcon, invasion of privacy, filming with and without consent, voyeurism (hyuck is a peeping tom), exhibitionism, panty stealing, toys, multiple orgasms, nipple play (m & f receiving) , cum eating, oral (f receiving), switch but mainly sub!hyuck, reader has a bdsm relationship with johnny, yuta, and jaehyun, switch but mainly dom!reader, handcuffs, unprotected sex, cream pie, hyuck is a little bi icon, lots of masturbation (m & f), excessive talk of legend of zelda (SORRY), anal (not super detailed), use of good boy & pervert, slapping, overstimulation, mentioned (bdsm, bondage, whips, rope/shibari, threesomes, mxm, scissoring, spit roasting, getting high, double penetration, marking) pls let me know if i missed anything

playlist ⇢ creep_radiohead / obsession_sky ferreira / nothings going to hurt you baby_cigarettes after sex / wet nightmare_bibi / i wanna be your slave_måneskin / use me_bill withers / sweet_cigarettes after sex / guys my age_hey violet / sexy silk_cumkitten / pussy is god_king princess

a/n ⇢ i'm trying to get better at making the reader as general as possible please let me know any ways i can improve!

masterlist

“no one is stealing your goddamn ice cream,” you groan, rolling your eyes. you’re currently having a “house meeting” in the kitchen, more like you and your roommates get yelled at by your other roommate haechan for 30 minutes. you’re sitting at the end of the island beside jaemin and karina who is leaning next to the wall while haechan stands across from the counter in front of the fridge waving an empty box around. 

“well, where the fuck are my double vanilla yogurt bars going?” he says waving the box around for dramatics. 

“who the fuck wants double vanilla ass yogurt ice cream bars,” jaemin argues. 

“literally we have chocolate, strawberry,” jaemin gags, “even cones, why would we want double vanilla,” karina quips while you roll your eyes. 

“because it’s the best ice cream in the world,” he groans, running his hands through his hair. 

“yeah maybe to old white dudes,” karina says, making you and jaemin giggle. 

“listen i get it, no one wants to fess up. you’re embarrassed, feeling guilty even,” you scoff at his dramatics. “but just tell me between friends, i will forgive you if you buy me a new box.” no one says anything, just stares across the counter at haechan. “god i hate all of you. i swear i’m moving out.”

“finally, let me know if you need help packing,” you smile as he storms off middle finger raised in your direction. 

“so which one of you ate the ice cream?” karina whispers, you and jaemin shake your heads hearing haechan's door slam. 

“swear i didn't, i would probably have the strawberry before double vanilla,” he grimaces. 

“same, i would just go without, who wants double vanilla anyways? i bet he just doesn’t remember eating them.” you laugh. 

haechan sat in his room sulking and determined to figure out who was eating his precious ice cream. this wasn’t the first time it happened and it had only gotten worse. he pondered which one of his housemates would eat his ice cream. 

karina was in her green juice phase and probably wasn’t eating ice cream but if she was she would want the "healthiest" option which were the double vanilla yogurt bars. she couldn’t be marked off the list. 

jaemin would definitely eat the double vanilla bars. especially when he would just open the freezer and grab anything that didn’t have a strawberry pink label. haechan grumbled to himself pulling his fingers through his hair. 

and you, you would totally eat his ice cream just to spite him. you would probably throw away an uneaten bar just to annoy him, give them out to delivery men, or offer them to your annoying friends. 

he furiously typed into his search bar. “how to stop roommates from stealing food.”

he scrolls reading over the bulleted list. 

write your name on everything 

that wouldn’t work, jaemin would just read it and ignore it.

hide the food in an unlikely place

where can he hide ice cream unless he got a mini freezer and that just seemed like too much work. 

douse the food in hot sauce, chili powder, etc. 

wouldn’t that just ruin the food for him?

install cameras to present evidence of the theft

bingo

haechan had plenty of access to cameras, the tech, and the knowledge to install nanny cams. his it major finally came to his aid during his time of woe. 

he made a plan, go to the tech lab and talk to kun about security cameras. he can play it off that it’s for a friend, his mom, or maybe his roommates wanted to feel safer. then he could install them on thursday morning when everyone was in class. then he would wait for someone to eat his ice cream and catch them in the act. foolproof right?

“so wait, why do you need cameras again?” kun asked, rummaging through a box of wires. 

“it’s for a friend they asked me since they knew i was majoring in it,” haechan says nonchalantly, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“oh cool, you said home security right?” haechan nodded, moving to the side after kun got up with various wires in his hands. he followed kun to another part of the tech lab. 

“just don’t set them up in locker rooms. some dude did that a few years ago and i helped him pick them out. god, i felt sick after.” 

“god no, just home security, said he has some weird roommates or something,” haechan shook his head. watching over kun’s shoulder as he scrolled through some tech website. 

“okay, i would go with one of these if it’s just basic home security. they have an app for easy access and pretty good quality cameras,” kun says, clicking on one of the images before scrolling through. haechan nodded, eyes dancing over the webpage. 

“sounds good to me, can you order them?” kun nodded, adding the items to the cart. 

“does he need any wifi extenders?” haechan shook his head looking over the total price. still cheaper than a mini freezer. “i’ll let you know when they come in.”

“thanks, dude, i’ll venmo you,” haechan says walking away. 

“do you need help setting them up?”

“nope.”

the cameras came in faster than haechan even expected, he hadn’t even gotten the chance to restock his ice cream bars to set up the trap. he waited for the perfect time when everyone was out of the apartment in class, studying, or doing whatever haechan didn’t care enough to ask. 

he took to unboxing the set of five cameras, one for the kitchen right above the fridge, one diagonal from the fridge to get the full angle of the theft, one in the living room facing the couch and the hall, and one for a wide angle of the living room. he had one to spare so he decided to put it in the corner of his room to see if anyone was snooping around. 

it took him about an hour to set up the two in the kitchen, fiddling back and forth on his phone and with the cameras to perfect the angle. walking back and forth to make sure the entire walk from the hall would be caught and no denying could happen. 

one camera was hidden between some old cereal boxes he and jaemin had used for a project that they never threw away. the other was between the bread maker karina had stopped using two weeks after getting it and was just collecting dust and the protein powder. 

it took him about an hour more for the two in the living room, making sure the camera was facing the couch fully because that would definitely be where the culprit would enjoy the sweet treat. 

the camera was tilted slightly to hide nicely on the corner of the dvd shelf. the other was squeezed snuggly between some half-dead plants on the window sill, viewing the full kitchen, part of the dining table, living room, and the hall. 

haechan was lucky his room was on one side of the house and his three roommates were down the opposite hall. so it was unlikely one of them would come down his hall unless it was for a shower or to piss. 

he finally fiddled with the one in his room more for fun but he thought of the possibilities of “accidentally” filming while fucking some hot chick he brought home or even the occasional big bulky dude he would find on some field or court who wanted to experiment when he needed to get fucked. 

he didn’t want to be a creep and it wouldn’t be like he’d share the footage if it happened but it would be a nice bonus. getting to relive a good fucking on some shitty camera like a perv. 

he wouldn’t openly admit to being a pervert, but he was. he often got off on being watched and watching other people, that’s why he liked going to the gym, not for the workout or health benefits, but the view of some hot girl sweating while doing squats or the best part seeing hot guys in the locker rooms and if he was lucky getting to shower beside them peaking at their cocks hanging heavily between their legs next to him. 

he loved the thrill of jerking off in the corner of the showers waiting for some muscled beefcake to come in and embarrass him before cursing and manhandling him. his fantasies never quite came true but that didn’t stop him from releasing onto the tile below him while he tweaked his nipples and the water hit his chest. 

haechan often found himself in these “compromising” positions. like the time he hid in the closet of some frat dude's room while he watched his friends, jeno and jaemin, fuck some sorority girl. 

he didn’t mean to get high and roam the house ending up in some closet, but what was he gonna do when they came in and spit-roasted her right through the slits in the door. so he shut up as best he could and jerked off while peaking out. he hated to admit being jealous of his friends and the girl but he couldn’t help it. 

he also didn’t mean to listen in when his housemates brought someone around and didn’t realize he was there. he would stand in the hall watching jaemin fuck some cheerleader until she was brainless or karina bringing over some girl to “study” but he watched them scissor for like 20 minutes and they never noticed. you however never brought anyone home at least that he knew of. 

he’d heard stories from his friends about how you were apparently into being dominated by older men, but haechan didn’t fully believe it. at least not the stories his older friends johnny, yuta, and jaehyun would tell of you. how you liked to be whipped and cuffed to the bed while johnny edged you, or how yuta would tie intricate ropes around you bending you into pretzel-like positions before making you cry, and jaehyun boasted about making you cum some insane amount until you passed out on his cock. you were too annoying and mean to be submissive, and far too uptight to be into adventurous casual sex. 

the stories did get him off though just like viewing his other roommates in secret, the thought of his little prude roommate being into nasty sex had gotten him hard. after hearing all about it he excused himself to the bathroom and came in his fist embarrassingly fast. 

it didn't take long to start getting notifications of motion most of the time being someone arriving home or leaving. he gets strangely excited at the prospect of catching someone at the fridge but every time it has been for something lame like eggs or soda. he had started to worry about the house eating habits when everyone was only eating eggs, popcorn, and frozen food. 

by the third day he’s grown accustomed to the notifications on his phone of detected movement. it's not as exciting when it’s the fifth time of the day and he knows it will probably just be jaemin making toast. but he opens it quickly waiting for the app to load. 

before he sees you sitting on the couch, knees to your chest twirling something in your mouth. he grins convinced he had caught the ice cream thief. he started his car ready to rush home and catch you in the act, that is until you pull it out of your mouth. squinting bringing his phone closer to make sure it is his ice cream his eyes widen when he realizes it’s not his ice cream but a dildo of some sort. 

you wouldn't, there's no way you would in the living room. his mouth hung open watching you bring the toy back to your lips. he was surprised by the camera quality when he could see your spit dribbling down the toy and collecting at the corners of your mouth. 

he should have closed his phone and put it on silent never to be thought of again, but he can’t look away, he knows it’s wrong but he can’t stop staring. 

he gaped when you opened your knees and moved one hand between your legs flipping your skirt up revealing some light blue panties. he’s sure he’s seen them in your hamper or when you accidentally left them in the wash that one time. he watched as your hand slithered between your legs pressing against your heat, squinting in surprise seeing a dark spot growing under your hand. 

his eyes were scanning quickly trying to take in the entire scene watching you with one hand over your panties and the other swirling what he assumed to be silicone between your lips. he can’t believe you of all people would be getting off in the living room knowing any of your roommates could walk in. little miss goody two shoes had a thing for exhibitionism he smirked. 

you moved the toy from your lips, a line of spit still connected until the toy slid over your panties. he gasped when you moved your other hand from between your legs to pull your shirt up tits falling out. 

he had seen you naked a few times completely accidentally of course, not that he didn’t keep the image in his head permanently. one time when he walked into the bathroom while you were changing before turning around swiftly and attempting to avert his eyes while you cursed him out. it was your fault for not locking the door. 

or when johnny’s frat had a pool party and your swimsuit came untied during a game of chicken. nipples hard and perked from the cool water and right in front of his face. he recalls the embarrassment that flooded your face when you realized before your hands covered up quickly. he had jerked off later to the thought of fucking your tits. 

he remembers how he couldn’t get your cute nipples off his brain for like a week after. it pissed him off how you walked around the house braless, nipples pointed right in his face. you were also the bane of his existence you were so annoying and difficult, but so fucking hot but you pissed him off with your bratty attitude. 

but he loved the way you scolded him and grabbed and pulled his hair when he went too far, or when you yelled at him and called him names with an angry tone in your voice and pout on your lips all because he had spoiled the new season of stranger things. 

he shook his head before pressing his palm to his face and moving his glasses to rub his eyes. he should turn it off. there's no going back if he keeps watching, but he just couldn’t look away. he had to make a decision and he did, taping the full-screen icon in the corner, turning off his car, and sitting back to watch. 

he wished it was his hand pinching your nipples, making you sigh and bite your lip. he was too busy staring at them to notice you press a button on your toy before pressing it to your clit and grinding against it. his eyes trailed down when he noticed the movement. he felt his mouth water when the darkness grew in your panties.

you had to stop yourself from letting the feeling take over, wanting to be filled up before you came. you pulled your toy away and moved your hand from your nipples to pull your panties to the side. you could feel how sticky and wet you were. you wished it was someone else between your legs a warm body fucking you open. 

haechan’s mouth fell open with your pussy on display. he watched your hole flutter just begging to be filled up. he could feel his cock pressing against his jeans as you slid the toy between your folds leaning your head back against the couch. it was smaller than him from what he could tell. why was he even comparing his dick to his least favorite roommate's dildo? 

his mind was just playing horny tricks on him while you were using one hand to pull your panties aside and the other to slip your blue toy into your cunt. haechan watched your mouth open and eyes close. somewhere in the back of his perverted mind, he wished the camera had sound.

he watched in delight when he saw your toes curling against the cushions and your hand speeding up between your thighs. you took it so well spreading your legs wider and mouth hanging open. he knew you sounded good and he could practically hear you whining. he jumped when your eyes met his through the screen he could swear you could see him watching. 

he needed to shut his phone off and throw it out his car window but he also wanted you to know he was watching like a nasty peeping tom. he kept watching the way your eyes glazed over, your hips rutting up to meet your flicking wrist. 

he didn’t realize but he had started grinding against his hand pressed between his legs. he felt so fucking pathetic in the library parking lot unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. and anyone walking by could see his windows weren’t nicely tinted but cheaply tinted and that just made it more exhilarating. 

he continued staring at his phone jerking his terribly hard cock in his fist whining wantonly in the quiet car. he tried to match his fist with yours, bringing his hand to the tip when you pulled out before pressing back into your cunt and he would fuck up into his own fist. he felt his forehead growing sweaty and he watched you slide deeper into the couch, knees bending harshly and pressing into your chest. 

you looked so desperate thrusting your hips up and your brow furrowed concentrating on your incoming orgasm. haechan was wondering if you were close because god he already was briefly removing his hand to spit in his palm and coat his aching cock.

he looked up for a second sensing movement to his right, watching some group of guys walk by his car not noticing the movement right under their noses. it only made him harder if that was possible reaching down grabbing his balls squeezing tightly making him hold his breath. 

his eyes focused back on you but you were slowing down and he was hoping you weren’t stopping. were you into edging like johnny had told him? he watched intently massaging his balls breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth waiting for your next move. 

you pulled the toy out of your cunt and he whined when a wet glob of slick dripped out not to mention the wetness coating the toy that you were bringing back to your lips. he brought his hand back to grip his dick, holding the base and pressing it down between his legs before letting it slap up against his stomach with a hiss, while you cleaned off your toy. 

he watched you stand up and slip your panties off your legs,  what he wouldn’t do to steal those and shove them down his throat? maybe he could sneak them from your dirty laundry. 

you turned around bending over the back of the couch making him whine, a perfect view of your ass bent at the best angle, cunt still glistening below your tight asshole. his glasses were slipping down his nose from sweat but he didn’t care especially when you brought your toy to rub over your pussy. smearing your slick over your holes making a wet sticky mess that he would die to clean up. 

he’d started thrusting into his fist again trying to be patient and slow like you were. bringing the toy to press against your rim while your head turned hoping to catch a glimpse of your taut hole being teased. he watched you push the limit seeing the way your toes curled when you tried pushing in dry, your cunt clenching at the pressure above. 

you whimpered but he wouldn’t know that just watched the way you bit your lip before bringing the toy to your cunt and pressing in fully arching your back when you had buried it fully between your legs. he stared at the way your thighs flexed and met the base of your toy as it filled you up. 

he could even see drool starting to fall from your open mouth. he wanted to hold back and wait to cum but you just looked so delicious he couldn’t help his hand speeding up. his whines raised in pitch as he pumped his girth it definitely was not as good as your pussy probably felt. 

his own pleasure was distracting him, making his eyes close and he had to practically pry them open to watch you again. he didn’t know how close you were, only you did. 

if he had noticed the way your head fell forward on the cushions and legs tried to squeeze together and wrist flicking lazier. he would have known but he didn’t. he didn’t see it coming when you came with a silent cry, legs tightening, ass shivering. he didn’t realize until you were cumming. hadn’t heard you whimper “i’m gonna cum.” into your palm. 

he came with you completely accidentally, pulling his hand away too late, cum already spurting out before he could stop it, hips twitching along with his dick. he whimpered bringing his hand back to milk his cock, thick cum leaking onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and steering wheel. an embarrassing amount pooled on his stomach as his breathing evened out. 

bringing his attention back to his phone he watched you pull the toy from your cunt another thick gush of slick dripped down hitting the couch below you. he hoped you didn’t do the considerate thing and clean it up but he knew you would. 

you laid the toy beside you bringing your fingers between your legs and toes curling when you made contact with your swollen cunt. his mouth watered when you dipped your fingers in to collect the juices and lifted it to your mouth to suck them clean. 

once you both had caught your breath he dug around in his glove box for napkins swiping at the drying cum on his sweatshirt and steering wheel. you were cleaning up your own mess and he left his phone open catching a glimpse of your wobbly legs when you got up. 

eventually he closed his phone, guilt taking over him, he just watched his roommate get off. it definitely wasn’t the first time or the last so the feeling drifted away quickly. the idea of installing a camera in your room even crossed his sick and twisted mind but he knew that was too far. 

he was tucking his softening length into his pants when a banging at his window startled him looking up to see shotaro and yangyang banging on the glass. he clutched his chest after swiftly zipping his jeans before unlocking the doors and they got in. 

“what are you doing bombarding me during my meditation?”

“you said you were leaving like 30 minutes ago, the fuck are you still doing here?” yangyang questioned from the back seat. 

“didn’t you have some meeting or something?” shotaro questioned with a smile.

“shit,” he did have a meeting at the caf about a group project that he was now almost 20 minutes late for. 

“did you get distracted or something your car smells like you fucked?” yangyang said laughing as he leaned forward between the two front seats. 

“and if i did you’d be jealous so i can’t talk about it.” 

despite having watched you cum in the living room via camera nothing about your dynamic changed. that was something haechan was good at distancing his peeping adventures and the people he actually peeped on. he didn’t find it awkward to be around them later even after seeing their most intimate moments. he did steal a pair of your dirty panties though but you didn’t seem to notice yet, at least that he was aware. 

and just as expected he did watch you again not even a week later a notification lighting up his phone hoping again to find the ice cream culprit but to see you swinging your legs open bringing some type of purple wand vibrator between your legs in the most erotic way. head dropping back as you upped the vibrations, stomach tensing when you pulled the toy away, hips canting up to chase the feeling.  

he snuck off to the bathroom of his job and came while he set his phone up on the sink and watched himself in the mirror. 

it seemed to be almost like clockwork. you waited until you were sure everyone was out and you’d slip into the living room spreading out with some toy or your fingers and going to town. and like clockwork, haechan would open his phone as if on cue to see you putting on a show for him and he’d grip his cock and jerk off. able to cum when he started recognizing when you were close. 

he did save all the videos using them later in his room late at night humping his pillow, or early in the morning in the shower even getting bold enough to leave his door open hoping you would hear his whimpers and come stare at him while he came to his stockpile of footage. 

he had even started carrying his ipad around with him so he could watch both cameras he had set up in the living room. using the larger screen to view the camera on the dvd shelf directly in front of where you would usually sit and his phone for the wide angle in case you decided to change positions. 

he looked like some crazy hacker sneaking off to the back seat of his car setting up his devices. somewhere along the lines he bought another flesh light to keep in his car. he may or may not have searched for a pocket pussy that resembled yours at least from what he could tell. 

he would try to mimic the positions you were in, leaning back when you would ride a toy, fantasizing about you riding him, or rising to his knees leaning over to hump into the sticky silicone hole when you would bend over the couch. 

he sadly still hadn’t caught his ice cream thief even though the ice cream was still being eaten by someone he just either didn’t see the notification or they were way too quick with their hands. 

he’d also visited kun again. this time asking about the sound for the cameras. giving some story about his friends’ roommates talking shit about them and wanted to know what about. 

he felt like a kid on christmas when thee mics came in, installing them quickly and testing their quality. hoping to all the gods, that he knew wouldn’t let him into heaven at this point, that you would be desperate and needing to get off that very day so he could verify the sound quality. he wrote it off as trying to figure out if he could hear a wrapper when someone was at the fridge, not that he wanted to hear your whining and moaning. 

and by some stroke of luck you did get desperate and by a double stroke of luck you had plans that night. plans that included two large cocks filling you up so you needed to prep of course and haechan didn’t even know the show that was accidentally in store for him. 

he watched on, intently as you slowly with slick fingers dipped past your tight rim. he gawked at the way you whimpered when you curled your fingers inside of you. his airpods weren’t enough somehow and he hurriedly dug through his bag for his noise canceling headphones. 

when they connected he swore he could cum from the surround sound of your cries. he paid extra attention to each movement the way your voice changed or cracked when you added a finger. scissoring inside of your opening your warm walls, what he wouldn’t give to be inside of them himself. 

“just a little more,” you slurred before pressing a third finger inside of you, back arching into the fullness. you were talking yourself through it whimpering and moaning, biting your lip in concentration. 

he was starting to regret not exiting the library and at least hiding in a bathroom stall, now he was stuck in the back corner of the british history section on the third floor with a hard on and live porn on his phone. 

but he didn’t stop or even make a move, continuing to watch you stretch yourself the audio proving to be the best investment since the cameras. each little sigh was picked up on the mic he had cleverly placed next to the couch. 

it was getting hard both literally and figuratively to not whip out his cock and jerk off behind some dusty textbooks. so he pressed his hand against his crotch hissing at the contact and grinding slightly into his palm. 

he tilted his head back against the wall, eyes widening and bringing his phone closer when you started pulling your fingers from your hole. your empty rim clenched, almost begging to be filled again. 

“fuck,” you choked, reaching around beside you to grip your large plug pushing yourself up to grab your lube. haechan watched curiously seeing you squeeze a large amount onto the glass toy. 

you wondered if the boys you were going to see would call you pretty when they bent you over and saw the pretty flower pressed into your hole stretching you out. you shivered in anticipation, fingers moving to grip the base bringing it to your rim and sinking it slowly inside. you tried to go slow but the bulb felt so good stretching you out so you thrust backwards groaning at the stretch. 

haechan can hear you loud and clear and it’s going straight to his cock before he realizes he’s rutting his hips rubbing himself against his hand. watching desperately as you fuck yourself with the pretty plug. 

he had gotten used to your toy collection finding you far more experimental than he ever imagined, from dildos to vibrators and wands and now plugs. he wondered what all you had in your little treasure chest hidden in your room somewhere. he began to believe all the stories he had heard considering you surprised him each time he caught you. 

his brows tilt up in confusion when you slow your movements letting the plug settle between your cheeks. you're breathing slowly resting your head on the arm of the couch before you get up, grabbing the lube and going down the hall. he waits for a few seconds then a minute before you return to clean up the spot you occupied before. 

you weren’t stopping right? you hadn’t even cum you always came at least once. he recalled the time you had continued holding a vibrator to your clit until you were shaking and crying unsure of how many times you had actually released but the slick puddle glistening underneath you told him enough. 

he waits patiently watching his phone but you don’t reappear and his cock is hard and needy, twitching in his pants. he groans head hitting the wall behind him dropping his phone against his leg next to the outline of his dick. he tries to think of turn offs but truly he didn’t have many and whatever he thought of led him back to something that turned him on. 

now he was left in the british history section with blue balls and flushed cheeks trying to decide what to do. he wondered what you were doing walking around the house still naked with a plug stretching your ass. so he did what he knew to do. text you. 

evil roommate

what are you doing tonight?

he stared at his phone waiting for something, seeing your phone light up where it set on the coffee table. he watched you pick it up rolling your eyes and for some reason it made him more interested in you. 

y/n

why does it matter?

he smirked at your response still peeking at the mini screen in the corner of his phone watching you sit back on the couch position oddly reminiscent of the first time he watched you. knees bent and legs spread just enough for him to view your glistening cunt and the glass base peeking out between your cheeks. 

evil roommate

just wondering? maybe i have plans or something?

he waited for you to see the notification not ignoring the way your fingers danced between your legs to collect the cream spilling from your cunt. 

y/n

well i won’t be home if that’s what you mean?

his eyebrow raised. if you were going to study or out with your friends you would just say that not beat around the bush. he got distracted though when your fingers circled your clit lazily. it felt more intimate for some reason. the fact that he was talking to you and watching you. 

evil roommate

:( not staying cooped up in your room all night?

your fingers sped up wetness being spread around your soft pussy. you rolled your eyes wishing haechan would just shut up. you knew you couldn’t cum yet johnny had already made explicit rules but he didn’t say you couldn’t edge yourself. 

y/n

i don’t want to be witness to whatever weird “plans” you have

he grinned, if only you knew. his plans consisted of watching videos of you and busting as many nuts as possible. if you weren’t home he would be able to sneak in and steal another pair of panties. he breathed deeply thinking of your smell that was so close but so far away. recalling how hard he had cum when he had stolen them before. fabric shoved in his mouth, your taste lingering on his tongue. the panties between his teeth silenced his loud whine when his eyes rolled back and legs started shaking. god he needed to stop his mind from wandering; he was just getting harder. 

evil roommate

how do you know i have weird plans? when have i ever done anything weird at our house?

you stopped, lifting your sticky fingers to your mouth as you read your phone. he watched you furrow your brows and type back quickly. 

y/n

when have you done anything normal? just don’t do your plans in my room i like cleanliness. 

evil roommate

seriously what are you doing though

y/n

it’s none of your beeswax

evil roommate

going to meet up with johnny or yuta? or both?

his lips twitch when he sees your eyes widen when you read the message. he could read you like a book, confirming his suspicions. not only were the guys' stories most likely true but you were going to meet up with both of them to get your back blown out. haechan wanted to be a fly on whatever wall got to witness that scene. he watches you squirm and shuffle around typing and deleting and typing and deleting a response. 

evil roommate

what embarrassed? cat got your tongue?

you rolled your eyes, biting your lip while you thought of a response. he was right but he didn’t need to know that. you didn’t want you sex crazed roommate having any intimate information about your sex life let alone what you did with johnny or yuta. 

y/n

it’s literally none of your business if i’m seeing anyone or no one. but fyi johnny invited me over to see the movie he’s been working on for his final

that was technically true. johnny was working on a film for a final, he had been talking about it for a while. and you were going to view some sort of media he had filmed before. whether you were in it or not was none of haechan’s business. yuta also happened to be invited, johnny had been teasing the final cut of a tape he had made with you. sadly jaehyun was out of town for some away game. you were half happy and sad, happy you wouldn’t have a dick in every hole but sad you wouldn’t have a dick in every hole by the end of the night. 

haechan knew what you were talking about. johnny had been filming a documentary since the beginning of the semester. he didn’t fully believe you unless you were going to do that and then get dicked down during or after. 

evil roommate

okay fine just wondering what if i wanted to spend the evening with my most favorite housemate :)

you breathed out a laugh as if you were his favorite roommate. he knew he was your least favorite. you much preferred his friends being over eating your food and being loud to him just staying in his room. 

y/n

yeah… you have the whole house to yourself to fuck whatever and whoever you should be happy just make sure the clean up after :)

he grinned to himself thinking of sitting in the very spot you were sitting completely naked on the couch. and he would take you up in that and fuck whatever and whoever while he was home alone. and he would watch videos of you while he did. maybe even connect his hdmi to the living room tv get your pretty pussy on the big screen. 

you closed your phone, dropping it on the cushion beside you before getting up, mood ruined by haechan’s pestering. haechan watched the way your ass bounced as you walked down the hall to your room. 

he closed his phone too. finally getting up grabbing his bag and stalking to the bathrooms locking the stall and finally getting the release you unknowingly withheld from him. 

he paid extra attention to wake up earlier the next day despite his tiresome late night activities, and watch you come home. taking care to see any signs of hard sex, bruises, hickies, or even a limp. 

but when you came home and he was sitting on the couch eating cereal he didn’t particularly notice which made him question all his conclusions from the day before. maybe you had just gone to johnny’s to watch his film and maybe u just liked wearing a butt plug around. 

you didn’t talk to him when you got home heading straight for your room not even sparing him a glance as he stared at you searching for something. 

he stayed on the couch for most of the day and into the evening playing tears of the kingdom to no end. not even noticing jaemin coming and going or karina complaining about some project she hasn’t started and needing to camp out at the library. 

you eventually joined him in the living room giving in to his pestering to show you the new game you had been waiting to play. he talked way too much about all the new features that didn’t completely make sense but you listened anyway and watched him die by bokoblin’s. 

his eyes caught sight of your neck when your shirt collar shifted seeing a bite mark hidden on your left breast. maybe his theories were correct, but his suspicions were distracting him, causing him to die once again. 

his lack of skill in the new game had you laughing but also frustrated you, eventually grabbing the controllers and trying your hand but dying just as fast as he did. blaming it on his shitty weapons or lack of hearts. 

“told you,” he said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair when you died once more, eyes drifting to your wrist noticing raised skin reminiscent of rope burn. thoughts wandering to what you looked like tied up. 

“is this harder than breath of the wild or am i just rusty?”

“definitely both but you suck at breath of the wild too.”

“shut up!” you squealed faux throwing the controller at his head making him duck. 

“wait let me show you this video.” he pulled out his phone, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “some dude used the building materials and built this walking stick man with a flamethrower for his dick.” he laughed, scrolling through his camera roll to find the video. he held the phone to your face and you watched on, laughter filling the room. 

you grabbed the phone from his hand replaying the video watching the awkward wooden creation blast across the screen with a flame shooting from its lower half. your laughter faded turning into a face of confusion when you tapped the screen to rewind seeing the video thumbnails surrounding that one. 

“what the fuck is this lee donghyuck!?” tapping the arrow in the corner, the screen filled with various thumbnails and many of you sitting in the very room you occupied now. 

“oh not the government name,” he chuckled as he leaned forward to see what you were talking about the color draining from his face when you began playing a video, the static sound coming from his phone. 

“what the actual fuck is this.” you shrieked, shoving the phone in his face and he looked like he was about to be sick. the video clip he had saved, one of you sitting in the exact chair he was sitting on, fingers drilling into yourself as you came with a cry. 

“you’ve been filming me?” you were oddly calm in his opinion but his mind was racing trying to come up with something to say while his mouth was suddenly dry. 

he had always fantasized about being caught during one of his escapades but that had never actually happened. and now that you were glaring at him asking him questions and his stomach was dropping to his ass. 

“i asked you a question you fucking freak.”

“let me explain.”

“explain what? that you’re a fucking pervert who secretly films his roommate?” you shrill standing up and staring daggers down at him. 

“i was trying to figure out who was stealing my ice cream.” he said shyly realizing how fucking stupid he sounded bringing his fingers to fiddle with the hem of his shorts. 

“oh my god you fucking idiot. no one wants your fucking ice cream. you set up cameras and didn’t tell us? you know that’s illegal? are you fucking stupid or just dumb or both?” haechan peered up at you avoiding eye contact but trying to pay attention. his face felt hot and embarrassment flooded him with each passing second. 

“i didn’t.” he paused, looking up at you through his lashes. “didn’t think it was a big deal since it’s like a common area. i didn’t mean to watch you but-“ he paused looking down between his legs. you laughed down at him tossing his phone on the table between the couch and chair where he sat. 

“but what?” you questioned bringing your fingers to push his forehead back so he would meet your eyes. haechan was trying his hardest not to get hard knowing you could literally call the cops on him but you looked so hot glaring at him from above. he didn’t know that you were just as perverted as him, planning out how to punish him. 

“i- it was an accident. the first time. really i swear.” he stared up at you, his hands raised in defense trying to make you believe him. 

“then why did you save it? you were getting off to me weren’t you? fucking freak.” your words stung but went straight to his growing cock. he didn’t want to answer hoping his silence was enough. 

“were you?”

“yes,” he whispered, before bringing his lips between his teeth. 

“how many times?” 

“i- i dunno.” he was being honest he lost track of the amount of times he had watched you. he knew it was more than 10 and probably less than 30 but he wasn’t totally sure. 

“how long have you been doing it?” he tried to look away again, searching for an answer like it would appear in front of him. but you grabbed his face squeezing his cheeks in your hand making him look at you. 

“maybe more than a month i - i can’t - don’t remember.” he stumbled over his words before you released his face but only to bring your hand back slapping his cheek. and he whined he fucking whined, raising his hand to rub at the reddening flesh. 

“remember better then.”

“okay it was the day yang and taro came over and we ate all that pizza and you got mad at us because we spilled garlic sauce on your lit book. but we blamed taro so you wouldn’t be as mad since you like him but it was really yangyang that spilled it.” the confession came bubbling out like he was a volcano ready to erupt. 

“haechan, that was over 2 months ago.” you sigh almost mocking him. “so you have been watching me everytime?” he nodded slightly. 

“everytime?” you repeated. 

“if i couldn’t watch it live i would save it and watch it when i could,” he confessed. something about the thought of him being so into it he would save it for later made you clench around nothing. 

“did you cum too?” you could practically hear him gulp when you leaned down coming face to face with him. he didn’t answer, just attempted to avoid eye contact. “i fucking asked if you came while you watched me?”

“i couldn’t help it,” he stuttered. 

“you know you’re fucking disgusting right?” you questioned bringing your hand to his face again rubbing over the red cheek before slapping it again. he hissed this time hips jumping up. 

“a disgusting little pervert and you're getting off now aren’t you?” you brought your other hand to hover over his crotch before firmly gripping his length making him curse under his breath. 

“you know i should call the police, the dean, file a report, get you kicked out of school at the least.” he nodded below you as you grazed his cheek with one hand and squeezed your other around his length. 

“that wouldn’t be as fun though.” you smiled when you lifted a leg to straddle him. his breathing sped up when he felt you rest your warmth fully on his lap. he wanted to buck his hips into you, rut into your fist for some relief. 

“i’m going to watch you now, and your little cameras in here are going to record it. then you’re going to save it and send it to me. got it?”

he nodded, his hair bouncing on his forehead before you leaned back, removing your hands from his face and clothed cock. he quickly moved his hands from his side, fiddling with his waistband to pull his cock out. 

“nuhuh,” you stopped him. “i didn’t say i was gonna watch you get yourself off, did i?” he shook his head. “you think you deserve to touch yourself after that’s all you’ve been doing when you watch me?”

“i’m not going to let you have the joy of picking a toy, obviously.” you grinned, head tilting. “but what is your favorite? if you’ve been watching me i’m sure you’re familiar with them.” his eyes widen and scan the content in his mind focusing in on certain toys he’s seen you use. 

“the purple one.” he says, picturing the small purple wand he had seen you many times and it always left you gushing. you raised an eyebrow, immediately knowing what toy he was talking about. you lifted yourself off of him walking around his chair and down the hall without a word. 

he tried to steady his breathing and prepare himself for whatever you had in store. he was also insanely relieved you hadn’t immediately called the police to report him. he heard your door open and shut and your feet pat down the hall and behind him. 

he gasped when he felt a cool medal on his right wrist, he turned quickly eyes shaking just as you closed a cuff around his wrist. he just stared as you yanked his other arm over his head and tightened the other cuff around it, securing his hands together before letting his arms fall in front of him and land on his lap. 

he’d been cuffed before usually at his own volition or with this guy from his biochem class but that fizzled out a year or more ago. never by a hot girl like you who was about to punish him. you finally stood in front of him, light purple wand in one hand. 

“your perverted little mind is probably running a mile a minute.” you were right he wanted to know what you were going to do to him, if his camera was getting all of this. 

“stand up.” he tried to as quick as he could but his legs wobbled but he did it. you faced him and grabbed the chain that connected his hands pulling him to the couch where you had been sitting before releasing him and tugging his shorts down in one swift movement. he hissed when his cock made contact with the cool air and slapped the chain that connected his wrists. 

“aww aren’t you cute,” you lilted, kneeling in front of him staring at his leaking cock before flicking the head with your finger making him jerk forward. he didn’t have a chance to regain balance before you pushed him back on the couch with a thud. he squirmed on the leather seat cock bobbing between his legs precum beading at the slit. 

“you really are a freak,” you smiled, lifting the toy admiring the familiar ridges that left you quivering. you held it beside his own cock admiring aching member. haechan’s cock was what you would call pretty, plush red tip, subtle veining, not too long and just slightly thicker than average. it seemed to hang heavy between his supple thighs. 

“why do you like this one?” you ask, tilting your head curiously looking at him from between his legs. he’d dreamt of you between his legs but not while he was handcuffed and you were scolding him, more of you between his legs choking on his cock. 

“uh, i, you,” he paused, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. “you, i watched you use it.”

“oh really? of course you have. what haven’t you seen at this point.” you roll your eyes flicking your wrist to tap against his lower stomach with the tip of the toy to bring his attention back to you. 

“you, you looked so hot. you always look hot, but you use this one so much,” he whispered. his words made heat pool between your legs. the idea of him watching you cum over and over, none the wiser to his viewing. if you had known you might have been more deliberate with your actions. 

“did you like that? did watching me get you all hard?” you cooed bringing your fingers to circle the head of his cock collecting the precum spreading it around. he hummed staring down at the movement between his legs. “i bet you came in your pants like a stupid bitch.” your words were shooting to his cock, twitching when before you flicked the head again making his legs shake. 

“i loved it. i love it.” he whimpered. 

“how’d you touch yourself?” you cocked a brow at him waiting for his response. you’d never gotten off on dominating someone always preferring to be the one getting dominated, but you could feel your panties dampening with each reaction, sound, and bob of his cock. 

“i was at work.” he started licking his lips. “i uh, it wasn’t busy. i went to the employee bathrooms. you were still, you weren’t using it yet. you were sitting here and fingering yourself. your pussy was so wet, i wanted to taste you so bad.” he paused again taking a breath. “put my phone on the sink so i could watch you but then i kept seeing myself in the mirror. watched you and watched myself when i came. came so hard watching you. fucking pussy was so wet you were fucking dripping. wanted to be in you. came so hard and so much, made a mess. got in trouble for being gone for so long but it was worth it.” he finished finally making eye contact with you. 

you hoped he didn’t notice how turned on he was making you. the way he spoke about you in such a filthy way. you didn’t see haechan, your obnoxious annoying roommate in front of you, but donghyuck, the loser you met your first year who was awkward and shy and not so secretly harboring a perverted feelings for you. 

“you are fucking pathetic.” you raised your voice using the toy that was still in your hand to tap along his clothed stomach and up his chest. he keened when the toy brushed his nipples through the fabric of his sweatshirt.

he knew you knew about how sensitive his nipples were. it was just common knowledge in your circle everyone picked on haechan for it, pinching and tweaking his nipples to make him scream. no one knew that it made his cock hard though, of course now you would know. 

“i am,” he confirmed, biting his lip when you laughed at his squirming. 

“at least you’re aware.” you paused, dropping the toy in the his lap and bringing your fingers to unzip his sweatshirt. he was glad he didn’t wear anything beneath offering you easy access to his nipples. he whined when your skin finally met his, the teasing touches felt like electricity sparking on his chest. 

“i’m so fucking pathetic,” he groaned when you tweaked his nipples, pinching the buds between your soft fingers, nails pressing into the pebbled skin. you laughed tauntingly at him, something about the way he called himself pathetic was so hot. 

“i bet you’re glad i caught you, right? you were waiting and hoping for it. this is all your perverted little fantasies coming true. you should be thanking me.” there was spit pooling in his mouth, he felt dumb already, with how you were looking up at him an evil glint in your eyes and a teasing lilt in your tone. 

“thank you, fuck.” he paused when you let your hand roam lower, one staying on his left nipple the other tickling lightly over his stomach. “thank you so much.”

you grabbed the toy again pressing the well worn button the sound of vibrations filled the space between you and haechan’s eyes widened. you moved the toy to tap against his nipple making him keen and fold into himself whines sliding up his throat. 

“you’re so sensitive,” you coo at his reaction. switching the toy swiftly to the neglected nipple, making him squirm. you could help but laugh at how pathetic he looked squirming in front of you begging to stop but also asking for more his cock was throbbing precum slipping out with each pulse. 

“it’s - fuck- ‘s too much,” he mewled pitifully, legs quivering. 

“aww sorry, is it too much for you,” you teased lifting the toy from his nipple as he nodded. 

“maybe this will help,” you offered, upping the vibrations before bringing the buzzing device between his legs touching the head of his cock. his eyes flew open as he groaned and writhed. 

“please, y/n, oh god,” he strained the veins in his neck and lower stomach appearing under his skin. 

“please what?” his hands were trying to separate but the chain didn’t let them so he opened and closed his fists tightly fully overwhelmed. 

“i’m gonna cum oh god,” he cried, jerking his hips to rub against the buzzing toy. 

“we can’t have that, can we,” you teased, pulling the toy away swiftly, making him whimper. 

“please.” he sounded like he was sobbing now as his head hung down. 

“do you really think it would be that easy?” you asked bringing the still buzzing toy back to his nipples his stomach tensed warm pleasure flooding him again. 

“i’m sorry, fuck, so sorry,” he cried, bucking his hips up off the couch. you smirked at him turning up the toy again with a simple click. “please don’t i’ll cum.”

“you’ll cum just from your nipples?” your curiosity might just get the best of you when he nodded weakly. 

“no way,” you teased excitedly, eager to see if he was telling the truth. you used your other hand to squeeze and pinch the untouched bud. 

“can’t take it,” he whimpered, giving up to the tightening in his stomach so close to letting go. 

“cum then, little pervert,” that was all he needed, the degrading name going straight to unravel the knot in his stomach. his hips jerked hot cum spurting out of his cock as you looked on in awe. his body was hot and buzzing, cum painting his chest. 

“good boy.” you smiled, pulling the toy away and turning it off dropping it somewhere beside him. you dipped your fingers over his stomach collecting his cum before smearing it on his cheeks. he stuck his tongue out chasing your fingers. you scoffed slapping your sticky hand across his messy cheek. 

“fuck,” he whimpered as you stood up in front of him, reaching to pat his head and brush the hair from his face. you didn’t realize how sweaty he had gotten, strands of hair sticking to his skin and his glasses were slightly foggy as he was catching his breath.

“i’m still not done with you. wouldn’t it be so much fun to just leave you sitting here cock out, cum on your chest, and handcuffed. your little camera, wherever it is, to record you.” his eyes went wide, shaking his head furiously. 

“no no no what if jaemin or karina come home. no please,” he begged, whimpering up at you. 

“then they would point and laugh at you, but you would like that too fucking perv.” you lifted your hands to pull your own shirt over your head seeing the boys’ adam’s apple bob as he made eye contact with your tits. 

“fuck me,” he murmured, eyeing the bite marks that littered your chest. 

“isn’t it better to see the real thing, in person? not through your shitty camera.” you told him as your own fingers now touched your nipples pulling and tugging at the buds. you felt more excited watching his reaction the way his eyes scanned as you toyed with your tits. 

“so much fucking better.” he confirmed but you didn’t really need him to. his hands opened and closed almost trying to reach out for you. 

“where is your little camera anyways?” you said turning around looking around the room. 

“on the dvd shelf,” he says, hanging his head. you walked over to the shelf looking between dusty cd and dvd cases. “it’s with the old psp games.” he looked back up, gawking at the site of your bare back, marks from someone or multiple someone’s teeth littered your shoulders and neck along with a mark he again assumed was rope burn that went around your shoulders and disappeared at your back. 

“aha,” you sounded, finally finding the small camera in the corner of the dark shelf. “as if you weren’t trying to be sneaky.” you laughed waving at the camera. you turned back around to face him but you didn’t move back towards him. 

“i’m sorry,” he offered again. 

“oh you will be. this camera is going to get the best view of me ruining you,” he groaned in response leaning back against the couch. you stalked back over to him and he looked back up at you. 

“i think i’ve decided what else to do with you and you can tell me your color. i know you’re into this but i’m not as much of a perv as you and i value consent.” you brought your hands to your hips as he nodded up at you. “got it?”

“yes. i’m so green right now.” 

“umhuh.” you slipped your hands beneath your waistband slipping your shorts down and letting them pool at your ankles. haechan wanted to cry not from anything other than how hot you were like your body was sculpted by michelangelo. the real thing was so much better than the cameras. 

“eyes up here hyuck,” the endearing nickname slipping for your mouth and settling somewhere in haechan’s tummy filling him with warmth as he looked back up into your eyes. 

“sorry you’re just so pretty,” he gulped. 

“i know.” you laughed, stepping forward between his legs. “i don’t think you really deserve any of this for how disgusting you are. but at the same time i think you should stop fantasizing and get the real thing once right?” he nodded harshly, hair bobbing around his face. you brought one leg up, resting a foot on the arm of the couch fully trapping him with your cunt on display. his mouth was watering, your wetness glistening right in front of him he could practically taste you. 

“you’re not even listening.” you tutted, bringing your hand between your legs a site he was all too familiar with. you dipped your fingers between your lips collecting an obscene amount of slick with your fingers before pulling them away. you leaned in front of haechan bringing your soaked fingers to shove between his lips. he moaned around your fingers not breaking eye contact as his tongue swirled around your creamy digits. 

“this will help you focus, right?” you questioned, he nodded humming around your fingers. you moved your leg again this time bending to settle on his thighs again you could feel the heat radiating off of him as your skin pressed to his. his cock was just a few centimeters from being pressed against your own stomach. 

“i’m going to ride you, and you’re going to like it, right?" he nodded, moaning again in response as your fingers fucked into his mouth. “and you’re going to make me cum. but you don’t cum until i say so.” he whimpered but bobbed his head anyway. 

“good boy,” you praised, pulling your fingers from his mouth, spit spilling from his lips. you didn’t clean your hand bringing the slippery digits to caress his cheek mixing with his cum. 

you leaned over grabbing the toy you had teased him with earlier before slipping off his lap and settling beside him. he watched intently the way you laid back against the opposite arm of the couch and spread your legs just for him. he turned his body fully peering between your legs, cunt glistening and fluttering. 

“i didn’t say to move,” you said sternly, bringing a foot to press against his shoulder and push him back into his place before letting your leg drape over his. he neck craned to get the best view of your pussy. 

you brought the toy between your legs sliding it over your clit circling the raised nub. you relaxed into the feeling staring at haechan who was staring between your legs, finally getting a front row seat to his favorite show. 

“you’re drooling.” you taunt, and he brings his connected hands to wipe at the skin around his mouth just rubbing the spit around rather than removing it.

you turned on the toy, the vibrations immediately overtaking you, the buzz spreading in your lower stomach. you whined pulling your lip between your teeth flicking your wrist pleasure washing over you. you swirled the toy as pressure built in your stomach. 

“you’re so fucking hot,” haechan mumbled, glancing up to see your face twist in pleasure. you watched him swipe his tongue over his lips and visibly gulp seeing the cream already dripping from between your legs. 

you reached up grabbing his hair and pulled him to you kissing him harshly, it didn’t take him long to collect himself moving his lips against yours. his hands fumbled trying to rest them around you but just tugging against each other. you continued pressing the toy between your legs whimpering against his mouth.

he moaned into you when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he tasted like those stupid double vanilla yogurt bars he loved so much. 

you pulled him away spit connecting your mouths as his tongue lapped up as if reaching for you. you turned off the toy tossing it beside you, gripping his hair tighter and tugging him between your legs. 

“use your tongue,” you whispered and he didn’t need another word, tongue sliding over your clit. kitten licking at your most sensitive spot, you tasted better than he could have imagined, still reminiscent of the taste of your panties but double or tripled or whatever. 

he leaned in deeper feeling the tug on his scalp as he lapped at your hole feeling it flutter against his wet muscle. his tongue explored every spot it could touch sucking and drinking you up. he couldn’t hear you whining from the wet smacking his mouth was making as he ate you like his final meal. 

he felt your hand pull his hair harder and your thighs shiver around his head, squeezing his glasses frame into his cheeks. he recognized the shiver as an indicator you were close so he went harder, suctioning his mouth around your clit and flicking his tongue over the bud. he was grinding down against the couch awkwardly cock already hard again grunting into your cunt. 

your eyes rolled back as you came against his face, hips bucking, riding out your orgasm. he didn’t stop until you physically pulled him away, chin shiny and lips pulled in a shy smile. 

“you taste so fucking good,” he looked up at you, leaning in again to lick one more long strip collecting as much slick as he could. you let go of his hair laying back to catch your breath and he stayed between your legs. 

suddenly realizing how badly his wrists hurt pressed into the couch awkwardly beneath him. he sat up, eyes not leaving you, wanting so desperately to grab your hips and fuck his cock into your cunt. 

finally opening your eyes looking up at him, heat in your cheeks and his hair was disheveled, glasses slipping down his nose. he was licking over his lips swiping his sleeve over his chin. 

you sat back up and straddled him again before lifting up to your knees bringing a hand between the both of you grabbing his length and pressing it to your slippery entrance. 

“holy fuck,” haechan groaned, staring down watching his cock slide between your folds. he could cum again just from this but he was determined to feel you wrapped around him. he felt dizzy with each swirl of your hips, your clit was swollen and puffy against his plush head.

“i’ve barely done anything,” you laughed, hearing him let out a strangled gasp when you sat down in one fluid motion. you sighed feeling so full all at once and his cock was so perfect filling you up completely. 

“you’re fucking, holy shit, y/n.” he whined, hands grabbing for you but the chain stopping him from being able to hold your skin. he was squirming beneath you head shaking back and forth eyes closed, lashes fluttering on his cheeks. “fucking tight.” 

“i know, hyuck,” you said, squeezing around him using it as punctuation. you lifted your hips finally moving, letting his cock slide inside of you perfectly. he looked a mess in front of you sweat trailing down his exposed chest and hair scruffy.

your hands slide under his sleeves pushing them down before gripping his shoulders using him for leverage bringing your hips up before slamming back down. his breath was hot and heavy as he leaned up and nuzzled into your chest. his tongue hung out of his mouth like a puppy panting and begging. 

releasing one of his shoulders you reached between you both, yanking the chain that connected his hands pulling on it to lift his hands above his head and push them against the wall pressing into his chest. he looked up at you needy and desperate fists clenching in the air. 

“keep them up,” you commanded, and he could only nod up at you, keeping his arms in place over his hand. this gave you more room to swivel your hips above him. 

“good boy, you feel so good, hyuckie,” you mewled, grinding down on him, clit pressing into his hips. he whimpered at the nickname head lulling back into your chest with a cry. his tongue stuck out again leaving wet strips against your skin he was murmuring against you but you couldn’t tell what he was saying. 

his hips were thrusting upwards, meeting your every move. his hands felt heavy above his head and he urged, to bring them around you trapping you against him but he wasn’t going to break another rule. 

“feel so good. wanna fuck you,” he mouthed against your breast tongue searching for your nipple. 

“you are fucking me,” you breathed, threading a hand through his hair, the head of his cock pressing perfectly deep inside of you. 

“no i- i know,” he paused, slurping lewdly sucking your nipple into his mouth making you gasp. “i want to fuck you.” he repeated his words came out garbled as his tongue swirled around the bud. he looked up at you mischievously batting his lashes. 

“i’m not uncuffing you if that's what you think.” you said sternly gripping his locks and pulling his head from your chest to look down at him while your hips were bucking erratically on top of him. 

“hurts.” 

“good,” you replied with a smile that was quickly replaced with an open mouthed gasp and a tighter grip on his hair. he thrusted up into you, filling you to the brim, your walls squeezing his cock. 

“can i please? been fucking dreaming of your cunt.” he leaned back resting his arms on his head for some relief. “i mean literally,” he paused with a groan eyes moving down from your sticky chest to his cock disappearing into your cunt. “having wet fucking dreams like a loser.”

“you are a loser and a filthy pervert. dreaming about your roommate who you’ve been peeping on it’s fucking disgusting.” he reeled at your words shooting to his cock, squeezing his eyes together fending off the urge to release hot cum inside your tight hole like he had dreamed. 

“tell me your dream.” his eyes opened glazed over with lust and desire looking at you, cheeks red and glasses fully fogged hiding the dilation of his pupils. 

“had you, in my bed.” he paused when you rocked particularly hard against him. “laid down all pretty. fucking sexy, was fucking you so good. you kept crying and crying and wanting more. shit- fucked my cum into your cunt.” his words went straight between your legs stomach tightening as you clenched around his cock before you brought your fingers from his hair to his chest and already to his abused nipples. 

“fuck oh my god you’re gonna make me cum,” he cried hands falling from his head to push against your stomach trying to stop you. 

“you gonna fuck your cum into my cunt?” you teased feeling your own orgasm rushing towards you. he nodded squirming at the feeling doing everything he could to stop himself. but your warm tight heat was sucking him in like a vice, he wanted so badly to bend you over ass up and fuck his cum deep into your cunt until you were full and dripping.

“then do it,” you demanded. he stared at you as if asking for permission eyes glinting up at you with need when you nodded back at him. he wasted no time, his arms moved up and over you trapping you against his sweaty chest, hands splaying over your back and moving down to try and grip at your ass, as his hips sped up beneath you. the new angle allowing him to fill you up deeper, cock hitting you perfectly. skin smacking together moaning in unison as he pounded into you.

“i’m gonna cum, hyuck,” you whined, eyes closed as he stared up at you with determination.

“cum on my cock, fuck. gonna fill you up,” he groaned, his tongue licked against your chest again driving you over the edge with a cry and shaking legs.

“holy shit,” you mewled, letting the pleasure overtake you, grinding down on his hips in return.

“fuck you’re so fucking tight,” he whined, suddenly you not only wanted him to cum but you needed him to. bringing your fingers from his shoulders to tap your fingers down his chest and pinch at his nipples.

“fuck, y/n,” hot breath hitting your neck as he groaned. you were dancing on the edge of over sensitivity.

“cum for me, fill my cunt up, please hyuckie,” you whined, he responded with a moan and jerk of his hips letting his hot cum shoot deep inside of you.

he continued thrusting into you looking down at the white ring forming around the base of his cock as you tried to push at his hips to stop him but he had you pressed against himself. 

“don’t wanna fucking stop, shit,” he groaned as his hips finally slowed the overstimulation spreading down his own body making his toes curl and legs shake. 

you fell against him, head tucking into his neck as you caught your breath. his hands smoothed over your back relaxing you. 

“gimme your hands,” you finally said breaking the silence and he lifted his arms from around you bringing them between you both.

“you take the cameras down tomorrow,” you said sternly and he nodded. you grabbed his hands pressing a button on one cuff to unlock it before doing the other. once his hands were free he brought them back around you, grabbing your ass like he had been wishing to do before lifting you up. 

“shh, let me,” he answered before you could protest. he laid you back against the couch before pulling out staring between your legs watching his cum slide out. he leaned down face to face with your cunt again. his fingers spreading your pussy as he leaned in to lap his own cum from your cunt. you gawked at him watching him lewdly slurp your pussy collecting every drop of your combined juices. 

“you really are disgusting,” he just smirked up at you from between your legs. not moving as he let his tongue roam your cunt again.

“nope,” you said pushing a hand against his head already feeling overstimulated. but he didn’t really care you tasted so good and looked so good from where he sat.

“hyuck, ‘m sensitive,” you whimpered, protests going unnoticed as you squirmed and pulled on his hair.

“just taste so good,” he mumbled, hands reaching to grab your thighs he so desperately wanted to grip earlier. he felt unrestricted this time hands kneading your skin feeling the goosebumps rise.

“too much,” you whined when he suckled your clit into his mouth. he tried to hold back a smile peaking up at you through his frames, eyes shut tight, lip pulled between your teeth, pretty face twisted in pleasure.

he couldn’t get enough lapping at your hole still tasting himself mixing with you. just reaffirming that he had really fucked you it wasn’t some fever dream. he fucked you and made you cum twice and came in your pretty pussy.

“so fucking good. just stay still,” he groaned into you vibrating against your cunt making your legs shake around him.

“so hard, ‘s too much, hyuck,” you whimpered, your other hand had moved up to grip your breast while the other stayed pulling at his locks.

“just one more, baby,” he smiled, leaning back to admire the way your cunt was gushing all over again before settling back placing kisses over your lips and clit. he moved one of the hands holding you down rest just above the action where he was fucking his tongue into you. his fingers swirled over your clit making you whine.

“sound so pretty. even better in person,” he chuckled, the pleasure was bubbling in your stomach all over again.

he watched you shiver knowing you were close he moved his fingers and suctioned his mouth around your clit flicking his tongue over the swollen bud listening to your whine and whimper was music to his ears.

“cum,” he said releasing for a moment before diving back between your legs slurping at your cunt. you couldn’t hold it back legs shivering around his face again, crying into your palm as you came.

“good girl,” he said between licks, he finally pulled away when the tugging on his hair got to be too much. you laid there catching your breath staring up at the ceiling.

“you’re pussy is like the most perfect creation, swear to god,” he said rather seriously taking you from your empty day dream to look over at him admiring the space between your legs. he glanced up at you making quick eye contact before watching your still fluttering hole. your head felt full and foggy but also empty and numb.

“would you sit on my face.”

“no more,” you said sitting up to push him off.

“maybe like tomorrow,” he asked with a smirk.

“shut up,” you groaned moving your legs from around him and rolling off the couch. wobbling on your feet he lifted a hand to slap your ass playfully, you whined cuffs in one hand and toy in the other before walking down the hall. he watched you patter to your room listening for the door. 

“wanna play more zelda,” he called when he got off the couch, legs equally as shaky. 

“yeah in like thirty minutes,” you called back making him smile. 

before long you were both back together on the couch, cleaned up and somewhat put together sitting beside each other sharing his double vanilla yogurt ice cream and bickering back and forth about the gameplay. 

“can i put one in your room?” haechan asked when the conversation had lulled. you sat up staring daggers into him. 

“have you learned nothing?” 

“if i say no will you do that again?” he smirked over at you. 

“god you really are sick in the head.”

“i love it when you’re mean to me,” he said, tilting his head to tease you. 

“probably a little too much don’t you think?” you asked, rolling your eyes and leaning back. 

“a normal amount for a perverted fuck like me,” you laughed at him eyes drifting back to the screen when he unpaused and started to play again. the room was somewhat quiet until he offered you tips and tried to tell you what he was doing in the game. 

your mind was drifting similarly to the way his did earlier. the idea of having him watch you but knowing this time was arousing all over again. you thought to the camera that was still in the room that had recorded the two of you fucking not even an hour earlier. you wondered what it would be like if there was a camera in his room that you could watch. catching him jerking off at his desk or humping his pillow or having a wet dream about god knows what. 

“you can put one in my room but only if i get to put one in your room,” his jaw dropped, not expecting you to agree and add delicious stipulations. 

“are you fucking serious,” he said, as link fell from a sky island to his death. 

“yes, but don’t be weird about it. we’re not making this weird,” you said gesturing between the two of you and whatever this relationship was. “also no watching if there’s someone else involved.”

“deal,” he raised his hand for a shake of agreement, he tried to seem casual but his mind was running a marathon at all the prospects. 

“since you’re being so generous, will you tell me who’s been eating my ice cream?” he said tipping the popsicle stick to you, you laughed over at him. 

“shotaro.” you responded with a glint in your eyes.

© tddyhyck

taglist [ @newdeobi @heyitsconysstuff @matchahyuck @liliansun @haven-cove @nctevia @kpopfan25648 @toroufriteh @wmewtew @jaeminsbebu @jenoleeaesthetic @miriamxsworld @carelessshootanonymous @oversizedbrain-blog @cumicumisworld @straykidswhoo789 @noonaisreading @haeerisuh @hchanlvr @chimiwimi @byungbyungbaek @iraa567 @xenkimmie @syhznanny @kpopwhoreo @dearsullix @sexygrass ]

[cosmica-galaxy]

https://www.tumblr.com/cosmica-galaxy/780225198210383872/i-just-thought-of-something-funny-because-of-shock?source=share

YOU READ MY MIND, THAT WAS WHAT I WAS THINKING OF EXPLAING WHY THEY'D WANNA EAT HUMAN FLESH! Same braincell...

Like witches said the reason dark enchantress was so powerful was because she killed and ate a witch to become a god and that all the cookies of the land learned about it AND the whole 'baked to b3 eaten' thing so cookies had sworn that any human who enters their world would become every cookie in the land's five course meal as a way to both get stronger AND get revenge on those of flesh...scaring humans...but y/n wanted to see the beautiful world after hearing so many stories about it and the cookies so they go into their world thinking as long as they stay away from the cookies...they'll be ok...and not be swarmed by flesh eating cookies as if someone just laid down on an ant hill...

Still how would the cookies react to seeing the human terrified of them and being 100% sure the cookies were gonna eat em? Like how would they react to y/n running away from them like 'PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA DIE, I JIST WANTED TO SEE YOUR WORLD! I DONT WANT TO TURN INTO A WHOLE WORLD'S BUFFET!!!'

(Bet in order to try to talk to y/n...they'd have to find a way to trap em...meaning the fear has to get WORSE before it gets better! XD)

Oh man, I can see the shenanigans. The human and cookies run away from one another, the cookies stop once they realize the human is running the OPPOSITE way, they turn tail to give chase, the human starts screaming that "THEY'RE CHASING ME!!!" while pretty much mowing down any obstacle that gets in their way. They probably fall down a cliff in their panic and probably get stuck/hurt that way. Scrambling to get back up as they see the group of cookies trying to get down to get them. Then it turns into a "THEY CAN SMELL MY BLOOD AAAAAAAA-!!" scenario.

Lots of property damage and ruined forest later, they (and the cookies that have been chasing them) are both tired as hell. Finally, the human climbs up to a difficult to reach area and finally feels safe enough to collapse there to rest, while the cookies are stuck down below.

Think of it like the human manages to climb onto a counter to get away from the cookies, like a woman with a mouse in the kitchen. Then I think the diplomacy can start once both parties are pretty much exhausted and tired.

The human feels safer up in their little hideaway and the cookies form a plan to try and either get up there or get some answers out of the human and why they are here and wandering around. The human stays up there for the rest of the day, sees the cookies staking out from down below at a camp, and feels like they are just waiting for them to come down to eat them. Neither party sleeps well that night. In the morning, both cookies and human are tired from the night-long stakeout/fearful hiding that they all finally start talking to one another and come to an understanding. The human finally comes down and the cookies are curious, but still respectfully wary of them. (I like to imagine a scooby doo ass chase scene while they are "running for their life" from the "man-eating" cookies) XD

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Another rewrite! …Why do I focus on rewrites?

Because I refuse to accept my earlier works as my standard when I KNOW they could be better. 😀

So enjoy!

Which bit is this rewrite? The Wedding bit!

I am PROUD to say! I have made absolutely sure the the victim of the chain’s anger was written to be as hatable as I could make them! And hopefully I made their fate worse than the original bit! I did my best to finally bring the vision in my head into my writing properly!

(….i need to learn how to make a master list for all my writing 😀)

….

…(I also need to start working on some asks…)

…(meh, later)

Enjoy my pretties!

—————

—————

‘I’ll be fine, guys!’

She totally should have seen this coming.

‘It’s Wars’ era; wandering the market alone won’t be that bad.’

The thought felt almost laughable now. These past few days had been way too calm for all of them.

‘I’ll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!’

Of course, something like this had to happen.

Now she was dangling from a makeshift rope made of torn bedsheets, trying to escape through the window of a room she had been trapped in.

‘This. fucking. sucks!’

This is what happens when you jinx yourself. Everything had been fine; no, more than fine, for the first hour.

She’d browsed the market, admired some trinkets, and even petted a few dogs. That had been nice.

But by the second hour...

‘His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.’

‘Sorry, I’m… flattered, but you got the wrong person. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable—’

‘That wasn’t a request.’

‘...What—?’

She should have known. There had been someone behind her, there always is. It’s when your guard is down that they strike.

And now she was halfway down a rope made of sheets, escaping a wedding she didn’t agree to, running from a Duke who thought he could just claim her.

‘I’m going to get lectured so badly after this!’ she muttered under her breath as she inched down the rope. She could already hear Time’s exasperated sigh, and Wild’s concerned scolding for sneaking off. Warriors would probably be furious that she hadn’t told him where she was going.

‘I’m not even a hero, dammit! I didn’t sign up for this kind of thing!’

Her feet dangled a few feet off the ground as she debated how to drop without making too much noise or hurting herself.

‘Damn you, laws of physics and gravity!’ she hissed.

As if the laws wanted to mock her, the knot at the top of the rope loosened, sending her plummeting into the bushes below.

‘Urk—branch! Branch!’ she winced, reaching behind her to pull a sharp stick out of her back, rubbing the area sorely. The bedsheet rope draped over her head like some absurd veil, and she tossed it aside with an irritated grunt.

She checked her hands quickly, no blood, thank god. But before she could plan her next move, she froze. Heavy thuds of metal clanked through the air.

Guards.

Her heart pounded as she ducked lower into the bushes, her breath catching in her throat. Peering through the leaves, she confirmed her worst fear: the guards were making their rounds, and judging by their armor, they weren’t from Hyrule.

‘Shit.’

She held her breath as they neared her hiding spot.

"Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?" one of the guards asked, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Seems to be the case. He’s been real pleased with himself too. Wants the wedding done the moment we reach back home, from what I’ve heard. Wants to immediately leave after the peace talks in a week.”

A week? (y/n) bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud. This was worse than she thought. She didn’t have much time.

"Not surprised. Have you seen her? Bet he’s eager for the wedding night, if you catch my drift."

Laughter followed, and her stomach twisted in disgust. She grit her teeth, fury bubbling up in her chest.

"A beauty like that for a wife would sure boost his status. Shame I didn’t find her first.”

His companion laughed, “I hear you.”

Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted nothing more than to leap from the bushes and smack them both across the face. The idea of someone, anyone, talking about her like that...

But it wasn’t just that. The humiliation, the fear—they thought they could just control her, that they could strip away her autonomy like it meant nothing.

The guards passed by her hiding spot, oblivious to the glare she shot their way through the leaves.

Just keep walking, she thought darkly, gripping her dress to keep her emotions in check.

Once the guards were a safe distance away, she slowly exhaled and took stock of her situation. The good news? She wasn’t caught yet. The bad news? She was wearing a dress that restricted her movement and heels she could barely walk in, let alone run.

‘Great. Just great,’ she muttered under her breath, tugging the damn heels off and tossing them aside.

‘Can’t run or climb in these anyway,’ she thought, feeling slightly better as the cool ground met her bare feet.

Looking down at her dress, she felt a new surge of frustration. It was beautiful, kinda, sure, but that was the problem. She hadn’t picked it. It wasn’t for her—it was for the Duke, a symbol of control.

‘I need to get out of here. Now.’

She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do next. She could try to find a disguise, or maybe just rip the dress enough to give herself more mobility. The exit was close, but it would take some clever maneuvering to avoid getting caught.

‘Focus, (Y/N), focus,’ she told herself, peeking out from the bushes again.

This was not how she imagined today going. And the thought of the others being worried sick made her stomach churn with guilt. They would be searching for her by now, maybe even panicking.

‘I am never living this down,’ she groaned internally, her frustration mounting. The more she thought about the situation, the more aggravated she became.

Being kidnapped, forced into a ridiculous wedding dress, leered at by guards, this was just too much.

‘But I’m getting out of here. One way or another.’

With a deep breath, she picked up her dress, tore off a few layers of fabric, and quietly slipped out of the bushes. Time to make her move.

——

——

“WHERE. IS. SHE?!”

“Link, please—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Zelda!” Warriors snarled, his voice trembling with rage as he stormed forward, his eyes wild. The way he moved had Wind biting his lip, already feeling the tension in the air thickening. This was going to explode, and soon.

Impa had barely finished giving her report when Warriors marched right up to the princess, standing toe to toe with her, his eyes burning with fury.

“Impa’s men are searching every inch of the castle and surrounding areas,” Zelda said steadily, though even Wind could tell she was rattled by the look in Warriors’ eyes. “We will find her.”

“It's been nearly a MONTH, and you have nothing to show for it!” Warriors’ voice cracked. His hand shot to his hair, raking it back, his knuckles white as if he were holding back from drawing his sword. “You’ve wasted time playing politics, while she’s, while she’s out there., who knows where!”

Zelda took a step back, her expression tightening, but her voice held firm. “You know I’ve been working day and night with—”

“The Grand Duke of the overseas kingdom, here to ‘promote peace and unity,’” Warriors spat the words like poison. “Oh, yes, VERY important while someone has gone missing under the ‘watchful eye’ of your men!” His voice was sharp and cutting, each word like a knife thrown in Zelda’s direction.

Wind shot a glance at Hyrule. He didn’t need to say anything. Hyrule’s wide eyes said it all, this was spiraling fast.

“My men?” Zelda’s voice dropped to a dangerous level, but her tone was ice. “I’ve had every guard in the city searching. We've blocked every gate, checked every exit, questioned every merchant. Don’t forget, these are your men too, Captain.”

Warriors’ eyes narrowed into slits. “Apparently not anymore. You’ve got them running errands and playing security for your little peace talks. I’m ashamed to call them my men at this point.”

“Excuse me?!” Zelda’s voice rose, her royal authority barely masking the fury underneath. Wind could practically feel the temperature in the room drop, and for a second, he wondered if they were about to witness something they couldn’t come back from.

“Warriors, cool it,” Wind whispered under his breath, knowing it was useless. When Warriors got like this, there was no reasoning with him.

“Your priorities have been clear from the start, haven’t they, Princess?” Warriors wasn’t backing down, his voice low and venomous. “The Duke arrives, and suddenly, the focus is all on making him comfortable, while she’s been gone for 3 weeks—three weeks—and what have you done? Talked?”

“Don’t you DARE.” Zelda’s voice snapped like a whip. “You think I want her to be missing? I’ve had every resource at my disposal searching for her, but this city is massive, and the Duke—”

“Oh, yes, the Duke!” Warriors threw his arms up in the air, pacing like a caged animal. “I wouldn’t even be hounding you so much if you’d just let me search his quarters! But no, ‘he’s a guest,’ you said. ‘He has nothing to do with it,’ you said. How do you know that, Zelda? How?”

“Because I do! I have been keeping an eye on him—”

“You mean distracting him while we scramble to find her? If he’s behind this, if anything’s happened to her because you—”

Zelda’s expression turned murderous. “How DARE you accuse me of not caring—”

“I'm not accusing you of not caring, Princess.” Warriors cut her off, his voice now trembling with the force of his frustration. “But I am accusing you of negligence. Letting him walk around while she—”

Zelda stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You think you’re the only one who’s worried, Warriors? You think I haven’t thought of every possible angle, every possible move that could have been made? But you cannot just accuse a royal guest without evidence! If I grant you access to his quarters without cause, it’s war!”

“As if our era isn’t already used to war!”

“War is what I am trying to prevent from happening again!”

For a moment, Warriors' hand twitched toward his sword. Wind saw it, Hyrule saw it, but Zelda seemed oblivious to how close he was to losing control. His entire body was tense, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

Wind glanced at Hyrule, who was nervously twisting his hands, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. Wind felt it too. Enough was enough.

“This is going nowhere,” Hyrule muttered, leaning toward Wind. “We need to do something, or they’ll be at each other’s throats.”

Wind nodded, already hatching a plan. “Twilight’s got Wolfie searching, right?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule whispered back. “But the storm’s making it difficult.”

“And Time, Wild, and Legend?”

“They’re talking with the merchants. Four and Sky are questioning the guards.”

Wind bit back a groan. They were running out of leads, but there was one place they hadn’t checked, somewhere they weren’t allowed to check. Wind’s gaze slid toward the guest wing. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hyrule nodded grimly. “We’ve gotta sneak in. It’s better than standing here listening to this.”

Wind let out a sigh, straightening up. “Right. I’ll distract the walking volcano.”

He stepped forward. “Wars!” His voice was calm, but commanding enough to cut through the escalating argument.

Warriors spun around, his eyes still blazing with frustration. “What?!”

“Hyrule’s got a lead. I’m heading out with him to check it.”

For a moment, Warriors just stared at him, fists clenched, his body still taut with anger. Wind kept his face casual, but held the captain’s gaze in a way only a fellow hero could have, willing him to stand down.

After what felt like an eternity, Warriors grunted, then turned back to Zelda, still seething, but slightly less dangerous than before.

Wind shot Hyrule a look. “Let’s go.”

They slipped out of the room, leaving the arguing pair behind. Hyrule sighed in relief. “That was close.”

Wind nodded, shaking out the tension in his shoulders. “Too close. Impa’s still scouring the marketplace, right?”

Hyrule nodded as they moved quickly toward the guest wing. “Yeah, but she’ll be too focused there to notice us slipping in here.”

“Good,” Wind muttered, steeling himself. “Let’s get this done.”

They hurried down the hall, the sounds of the heated discussion echoing behind them, hearts pounding but minds set, knowing they were racing against the clock to find their missing beloved, and possibly uncover a truth that no one wanted to admit.

——

——

——

Time leaned against the wall of a rundown building, the crumbling stone cold beneath his back as the narrow alleyway closed in around them. The shadows made it hard to tell the time of day, but the stench of rot, dirt, and stale air was unmistakable. In front of him, Wild stood with a scowl, roughly shoving a folded cloth into his hand.

“Stubborn fools,” Wild bit out, glaring toward the darkened streets ahead. “You ask them a simple question, and they act like you’re pulling their teeth.”

Time pressed the cloth to his cheek, wincing as the pressure stung. He pulled it away for a moment to check. Blood. Still fresh. A tsk was heard, he glanced over at Legend who looked at him with a sidelong smirk. “Getting hit by a weakling like that,” he said, shaking his head. “You must be getting rusty.”

Time shot him a dirty look. “I wouldn’t have gotten hit if you hadn’t been so focused on asking your questions that you didn’t see him pull out that hammer. Perhaps you’re the one getting rusty.”

Legend scoffed, “The hell I am. Some people are too stupid to know their limits. Not my fault they sucker-punched you while you were distracted.”

Time grunted, pressing the cloth back to the cut. The blood slowed, but it was a stark reminder of how close they’d been to losing control. It had been days of dead ends, and the longer they searched, the more tempers flared. People were scared, angry, and keeping secrets.

The sound of padded footsteps caught their attention, and Time looked up as Wolfie approached, his muzzle stained with mud and his fur drenched from the storm. The wolf shifted as he neared, and in a blink, Twilight stood before them, frustration carved deep into his face.

“Nothing,” Twilight growled, running a hand through his wet hair. “Even if the Storm hadn’t washed out everything. It’s been weeks. No new scents, no leads. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

Wild kicked at a piece of loose stone on the ground, sending it skittering across the alleyway. “Great. That’s just perfect.”

The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their failed efforts heavy in the damp air. The marketplace had turned up nothing. The guards had been tight-lipped, either clueless or too scared to say anything useful.

“We’re being played,” Legend finally muttered, leaning his back against the wall beside Time. “That tip from the merchant was too clean, too neat. Someone’s feeding us false information.”

Twilight growled low in his throat. “I knew it felt off. The bastard probably got paid to lead us in circles.”

Time wiped at the blood on his cheek and frowned. “Whoever it is, they know more than they’re letting on. And someone’s paying them well enough to stay quiet.”

“Or scared enough,” Wild added darkly, his arms crossing over his chest. “Could be either. Doesn’t matter though. They’ll slip up eventually.”

Twilight’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration. “They think they can play us for fools. That we’ll just chase shadows while she’s...”

He trailed off, unable to finish, his hands curling into fists.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Time said, though even he couldn’t deny the bleakness creeping into his voice. “Whoever’s pulling the strings is leaving a trail. We just need to find it before it disappears.”

They stood for a moment longer, the only sound the faint moans of pain coming from deeper within the building they’d just left. The stench of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with the sourness of sweat and dirt.

Wild pushed off the wall first, his footsteps echoing in the alleyway. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s move.”

Time glanced back at the building, frowning at the fading sounds from inside. The man they’d questioned wouldn’t be giving them any more trouble, but he hadn’t given them anything useful either. The city was vast, and their enemies were hiding in the cracks, pulling the strings while they ran themselves ragged.

As they left the alley behind, the oppressive stench of blood and muffled groans were swallowed by the shadows

—-

—-

—-

(Y/n) crouched behind a large tapestry in the dimly lit room, her heart hammering in her chest. The cold stone floor beneath her did nothing to calm the fire of rage simmering in her veins. She hadn’t realized so much time he passed since that foreign Duke abducted her.

She felt sick to realize she had been been missing for nearly a month, dragged into the, apparently restricted at the Duke’s request, guest wing of the castle, and now she was overhearing the very man responsible for it all.

The Duke.

His voice, low and venomous, echoed through the halls. “Find her!” he hissed to his guards, pacing back and forth. “I don’t care how many walls you need to tear down or how many peasants you need to question. That woman is mine. Her disappearance is an embarrassment I will not tolerate!”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising in her throat. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest, pressing herself further into the shadows behind the tapestry, trying to silence the sound of her frantic breathing.

“She will elevate my status beyond anything the nobles back home could dream of,” the Duke continued, his tone sickeningly triumphant. “Marrying such an exotic woman… the people here may be uncivilized and backward, but even they will recognize my superiority when I present her at my side.”

(Y/n)’s fists clenched as she listened. The disdain in his voice made her stomach churn. His words were dripping with arrogance, each syllable laced with contempt for the people of Hyrule.

“Pathetic, really,” the Duke sneered, his voice closer now, as though he were pacing just on the other side of the wall. “These Hylians and their so-called ‘heroes.’ They cling to outdated traditions and backward social norms, to so wholly believe in these ridiculous goddesses. Blind to what true civilization looks like. But they’ll see. They’ll all see.”

He paused, and (Y/n) could hear the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned closer to one of his guards. His voice lowered to a sinister whisper, though it was no less venomous. “Once I marry her, I’ll have the favor of the famed heroes of this kingdom. They seemed so attached to her. They’ll vouch for me, earn the favor of our king, and I’ll be able to solidify my control here. No one would dare defy me once I have their backing.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver of disgust down her spine. “Hyrule will fall into line, and I’ll rise even further back home. No one will question my power once they see the heroes standing by my side.”

The guards murmured in agreement, and the Duke continued. “And if she resists, well…” He chuckled darkly. “She’ll learn her place soon enough. A wife should know how to serve her husband. She’ll be disciplined into obedience, whether she likes it or not.”

(Y/n) bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, doing everything she could to remain in control. Her body trembled with barely contained fury and disgust, but she couldn’t let it out. Not now. Not when she was so close to being found.

She forced herself to take shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling slowly as she tried to quiet the storm inside her. The Duke’s voice grated on her nerves, but she couldn’t afford to lose control now. Her survival depended on staying hidden.

Another guard spoke, their voice muffled but stern. The Duke scoffed. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll have her found, and Hyrule will learn to bow to our superior kingdom soon enough.”

Her nails dug into her palms, her skin protesting the tightness of her grip as she squeezed her eyes shut even harder.

The thought of him dragging her away from everyone she knew, to force her in front of a foreign kingdom, of forcing her into a marriage for his gain, revolted her to her very core.

She could feel the burn of anger deep inside her, but she had to stay silent. She had to stay hidden.

Breathing in deeply through her nose and letting it out in controlled, quiet exhales, (Y/n) focused on calming her body, no matter how much her mind screamed at her to lash out, to fight. Her legs cramped painfully, but she didn’t dare shift, didn’t dare move a single muscle.

For now, she had to remain in the shadows. She had to wait for the right moment, to find a way out.

And when she did, she swore to herself, there would be hell to pay.

——-

——

——-

Warriors paced back and forth in the small side room, his steps quick and agitated, his breath heavy with frustration. The conversation with Zelda had spiraled out of control, ending with the princess sternly reminding him that under no circumstances was he to storm the guest wing. Not now. Not while she was still in delicate talks with the Duke.

He gritted his teeth, hands clenched into fists at his sides. She had dismissed him, brushed off his suspicions like they were nothing. But he knew. He knew that bastard Duke had something to do with it. His gut screamed at him, instincts honed from years on the battlefield, sharpened by countless encounters with deceit and betrayal.

The Duke had been eyeing (Y/n) from the moment Zelda had introduced the group to him. His gaze lingered too long, and his smile, that polished, slimy smile, barely hid the hunger behind his eyes. Every time the Duke spoke, he oozed charm, but Warriors had seen men like him before,!self-serving, arrogant, and dangerous in their subtlety.

But it was the way he pretended to be concerned for her that sent a pulse of fury through him. The Duke’s false words still echoed in Warriors’ mind, “I do hope the young lady is found safe and sound. Such a terrible thing to happen during such a peaceful visit.”

The image of the Duke’s fake sympathetic expression, his carefully rehearsed tone, made Warriors feel sick. He had to bite back the urge to lash out right then and there.

Safe and sound? No, that man didn’t care about her safety. He was only worried about his damned political games.

Warriors could feel the murderous thoughts bubbling up inside him, thoughts he was struggling to push down. If the Duke had any hand in (Y/n)’s disappearance... He didn’t need a sword to end the man’s life. No, he could already picture it—the Duke’s smug face contorting in pain, Warriors’ hands around his throat as he squeezed the life out of him. Slowly. He would take his time, watching as the fear bloomed in the man’s eyes. Watching as he realized he had made a fatal mistake.

The thought should have disturbed him, but it didn’t. Not anymore. The rage that had been boiling beneath the surface for the past week had numbed everything else. (Y/n) was out there, somewhere, possibly in danger, and this bastard was pretending like he had nothing to do with it.

Warriors' hands shook, not with fear, but with the barely restrained need to act, to do something. He couldn't stand it. But storming into the guest wing now, or throttling the Duke on the spot, wouldn't help. Not yet. He was under too much scrutiny, with Zelda and her royal guards watching every move.

No, he couldn’t move about as freely as he wanted, couldn’t act on his anger just yet. But he could keep the attention off the others. Time, Twilight, Wind—they were moving, searching, following their own leads. Warriors had to buy them time. He had to make sure no one started questioning where they were.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his back, forcing himself to regain control. The weight of his responsibility settled on his shoulders as he smoothed out his expression, wiping away the fury that threatened to break free. He couldn’t let it show. Not now.

He strode out of the room with purpose, his steps firm, but his mind already planning. If he couldn’t act against the Duke now, he could make sure that Zelda and Impa were too occupied to interfere. Keep them focused elsewhere. Keep the palace guards looking in the wrong places, while the others moved unseen.

First, he needed to find Impa. She had returned recently to report on the search efforts, and Warriors would make sure she and Zelda were kept busy—too busy to start questioning any absences.

If the Duke thought he could play games with them, he was dead wrong. And Warriors would make sure he didn’t get the chance to cover his tracks.

As he marched through the hallways, the image of (Y/n)’s smile flashed in his mind, followed by the overwhelming need to protect her, to find her before it was too late. He clenched his fists once more, his steps becoming more determined.

The Duke would regret ever laying eyes on her. And when the time came, Warriors would make sure of it.

——

—-

——-

Hyrule and Wind crouched in the shadow of a towering stone column, the cool night air of the guest wing stirring their cloaks. The guest wing of the castle, though technically part of the larger palace, felt worlds away from where the rest of the group and Zelda were. It was isolated, built for convenience but also privacy, which was exactly why they were there.

Beyond their hiding spot, Hylian guards patrolled the outer perimeter, their footsteps echoing softly on the stone paths. But inside the wing, the Duke’s personal guards were everywhere, pacing, watching, alert as if they were expecting something. Or worse, as if they were trying to hide something.

Wind’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark. "Why would someone have this many guards searching around like this unless they were hiding something?"

Hyrule pressed his back against the stone, eyes following the movement of two guards passing dangerously close to their position. "No one posts this many men unless they’re nervous about someone finding something," he murmured. “Definitely suspicious.”

They both waited in silence until the guards passed. Wind’s eyes darted from one end of the hallway to the other, clearly trying to figure out their next move. "Where do we start?” he asked, leaning closer to Hyrule. “The top floors? Bottom? If we go high, we can look for anything that might give us a view of what’s going on down here."

Hyrule nodded, biting his lip in thought. "But if there’s something they’re hiding, it’s probably hidden deep, right? Somewhere they think no one will look. We could start with the bottom floors—"

“Or they could be keeping something valuable up top,” Wind interrupted, eyes scanning the darkened windows of the upper floors.

A pause settled between them. Hyrule considered it before sighing, "Top floors, then. They’d expect someone to look below first."

With a shared glance, they crept through the shadows and made their way into the guest wing building, sneaking past the Hylian guards outside and slipping in through a side entrance. Inside, the hallway stretched ahead of them, dimly lit by the occasional torch, with a lavishness that was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace.

They slunk through the corridor, sticking close to the walls, their footsteps light and barely a whisper. At each corner, Wind would glance around, his instincts as sharp as ever, while Hyrule kept an eye out for anything out of place.

They climbed the stairs slowly, cautious not to draw any attention. Several doors lined the upper floor hallway, each one a possible lead, but they couldn’t afford to waste time searching them all. Time was precious. As they moved deeper into the guest wing, a sense of tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of a door far more ornate than the others. Wind raised an eyebrow at Hyrule, and with a small nod, they slipped inside.

The room was richly decorated, luxurious rugs, heavy drapes, and expensive looking furniture. It was clear that this room belonged to someone of high importance.

“Where the Duke’s staying,” Hyrule whispered, eyes narrowing.

They began searching, carefully and quickly rifling through the drawers and shelves. Papers, documents, most of which Wind couldn’t make sense of. But as he sifted through a pile of letters, he paused, squinting at one.

"I can’t read this language," Wind muttered, his fingers tracing over the unfamiliar text. "But I’d recognize (Y/n)’s name anywhere."

Hyrule stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. “That’s her name, alright,” he confirmed, eyes hardening. “We need to keep these. Evidence."

Wind didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly tucked the letters into his tunic before they continued their search, digging through more documents and looking for anything that might give them a clue.

But just as Wind was opening another drawer, Hyrule’s ears twitched. He froze, his eyes widening. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered. “The guards... they’re getting louder.”

Wind straightened, his attention shifting to the noises outside. The once steady pace of the guards had turned frantic, footsteps quickened, orders barked in hushed tones. The two exchanged a look. They didn’t need to say anything; they both knew what it meant.

“They’re onto us,” Hyrule whispered.

Wind gritted his teeth. "We need to get out of here."

Without another word, they slipped back out of the Duke’s room, their movements fast and silent as they retraced their steps. But as they neared the exit, Wind suddenly skidded to a stop, his sharp intake of breath making Hyrule nearly crash into him.

“What?” Hyrule whisper-yelled, his voice barely above a breath. “What is it?”

Wind didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on something, a frown pulling at his lips. "I saw something," he muttered, his voice distant. He turned on his heel and bolted toward a door down the hall, leaving Hyrule no choice but to chase after him.

“Wind!” Hyrule hissed, following close behind. But Wind didn’t go far. He stopped abruptly at the door, his expression hard as he pressed his hand against it.

Hyrule caught up, his heart racing. "What are you doing?"

Wind’s frown deepened as he tested the handle. It didn’t budge. The door was locked tight, and it felt... wrong. He pressed his palm flat against the wood, eyes narrowing in concentration. “I... swore I saw something. Or heard it,” he muttered, shaking his head in frustration. For a moment, he seemed to contemplate something, his brows furrowing.

But then, he shook it off. "We should leave. Now."

Hyrule opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, sensing the urgency in Wind’s tone. With a reluctant nod, they turned and made their way back toward their exit.

.

.

.

.

Behind the door, muffled by its heavy wood, several guards stood holding it shut, their grips tight and faces tense. Inside, several more restrained a struggling figure, (Y/n), her body thrashing against their iron holds. One of the guards kept his hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her desperate attempts to scream.

Once they were sure the intruders had gone, one of the guards pressed his ear to the door. "They’re gone," he whispered.

The leader of the group turned to his men, his eyes cold. “Good. Bring her to the Duke. Now.”

(Y/n) screamed into the guard’s hand, her eyes wide with panic, but her cries were swallowed by the oppressive silence of the corridor. She kicked and fought, refusing to go down without a fight, but her captors held her fast, dragging her out of the room and down the dimly lit hallway.

The castle’s walls echoed with her muffled struggles, but no one came to her aid. No one heard her, save for the men who would deliver her to the one person she wanted nothing to do with the most.

——

——-

Warriors stood across from Zelda, his posture rigid, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. His voice was low, firm, barely restrained. "Either you help me find her," he began, each word deliberate, "or when we do find her—and we will—you will face immense shame for doubting me."

Zelda, sitting behind her desk, kept her gaze locked with his. Her expression was calm, but there was tension in her shoulders. "Captain," she said, her voice equally measured, "I am deeply concerned for (Y/n), more than you know. But I cannot, will not, risk instigating a war with the foreign kingdom over one person. As important as she is, and believe me, she is, I must think of my people, of the kingdom."

Warriors’ jaw tightened, biting back the retort that sprang to his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had risked everything for a single person. He thought bitterly of Cia and the war of eras she had unleashed in her misguided obsession. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he took a breath, forcing the words down.

"One more time, Princess," he warned, his blue eyes locking with hers, cold and unwavering. "This Duke is hiding something, and you're blinded by your duty. When the truth comes out, and it will, you will regret not trusting me." His voice dropped even lower, carrying a dangerous edge.

Zelda remained composed, but her fingers curled slightly where they rested on the desk. Though her face showed nothing, Warriors could see the subtle shift in her stance, the way her body tensed as if bracing for the weight of his words. He had struck a nerve, even if she refused to show it.

Her reply was steady. "I cannot be reckless, Captain. You know that."

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Warriors stared at her for a long beat, then turned sharply on his heel, leaving the room without another word. His strides were quick and purposeful, but his mind was anything but calm. He moved through the halls in silence, his footsteps echoing in the vast corridors of the castle.

When he reached his room, he leaned against the door after closing it behind him. A heavy sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. But the relief was fleeting. His mind raced, his thoughts a storm of anger, worry, and frustration.

The room was quiet, too quiet. For a moment, he let himself stand there in the stillness, his heart pounding. Then, there was a faint sound—shuffling, the softest of movements.

His eyes snapped open.

---

(Y/n) hit the ground hard, pain radiating from her cheek where the Duke’s hand had struck her. She winced, one hand flying up to clutch the stinging skin, her fingers trembling. The world tilted for a moment, her vision swimming as she tried to gather herself.

The Duke loomed above her, his face twisted with fury, his eyes dark with something far more sinister than mere anger. "You stupid, insolent girl," he spat, his voice venomous. "Do you have any idea what you’ve cost me? Do you even realize how much trouble you’re in?"

(Y/n) didn’t answer. Her cheek burned, and her body felt heavy from the struggle against the guards. She managed to push herself up slightly, her eyes filled with defiance despite the pain.

The Duke’s lip curled in disgust as he glared down at her. "You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since your group arrived." He stepped closer, towering over her. "But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you understand your place soon enough."

(Y/n) glared up at him, refusing to cower. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to think of a way out of this.

"You won’t get away with this," she muttered, her voice hoarse.

The Duke laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Oh, I already have."

The Duke's lips curled into a sickening smile, one he likely thought was charming, as he crouched down to meet (Y/n)’s gaze. His tone, dripping with mockery and condescension, was meant to sound sweet, gentle, almost affectionate. But the cruelty underneath it was unmistakable.

"Oh, my dear," he cooed, as though comforting a child, "you really don’t understand the opportunity you’ve been given, do you? The honor of becoming my wife? The status you’ll gain. Not just in this kingdom , but in my kingdom as well. You’ll be revered, admired by all. The people will look up to you as a noblewoman, married to someone of true importance." His smile widened as he stood, straightening his clothes with a casual air. "You’ll settle down once you return home with me. All of this fighting, this rebellion... it’s unbecoming. But it’s cute. You’ll learn soon enough that your place is by my side."

(Y/n)’s chest heaved with a mixture of rage and disgust, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. His words were vile, each one dripping with misogyny and entitlement, and she couldn’t hold back the sharp retort that burst from her. "I see right through you," she snapped, her voice laced with fury. "You’re pathetic. You have to resort to underhanded tricks to rise in status because you know you’ll never be anything on your own." She met his eyes, her glare defiant. "You think marrying me will get the heroes to vouch for you, don’t you? That somehow being tied to me will give you an edge, make you seem important. But they’ll see you for the snake you are."

The Duke’s face twisted in anger, his hand snapping up as though to strike her again, but (Y/n) didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, staring him down with a smirk. "Go ahead," she taunted. "Raise your hand again. But remember, no one wants a bruised bride, do they? It doesn’t matter what you do to me, Duke," she spat his title like a curse, "I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of monster you are. Touch me again, and I’ll scream it from the rooftops."

For a moment, the Duke froze, his hand hovering in the air, his face a mask of fury. Then, slowly, he lowered it, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You little harlot," he hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You dare speak to me like that?"

(Y/n) met his gaze, unyielding, even as her heart pounded in her chest.

"The talks with your pathetic princess are nearly over," he said, his voice regaining its cold, calculating tone. "And once they are, you will leave with me. There is no escape. You’ll be mine, whether you like it or not. As for your little group of so-called heroes..." He smirked cruelly. "Perhaps I’ll let them write to you, if they remain useful to me. But don’t get your hopes up."

He turned to leave but paused at the door, casting one more look over his shoulder. "And don’t even think about tearing your gown again. It’ll be remade, and if you ruin it once more..." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "There will be consequences."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving (Y/n) alone in the cold, suffocating silence.

As soon as he was gone, the fury and frustration she had been holding back erupted. A scream tore through her clenched teeth, her entire body trembling with rage. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision as she pressed her palms to the stone floor, her nails digging into the cracks.

She wanted to punch him. To knock that smug, arrogant smile off his face and make him feel the pain he’d caused her.

Her hand drifted to her cheek, the skin still stinging from where he’d struck her. The tears finally spilled over, and she sniffled, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

She wanted to be back with the others, where she was safe, where she didn’t have to endure this nightmare. Where she could hear their voices, their laughter, and feel the comfort of their presence.

——

——

——

The Chain moved differently now, more focused, deliberate. Their usual camaraderie was muted, their laughter and conversations replaced by an eerie silence that cloaked them like a shadow. They no longer exchanged pleasantries with Zelda or Impa, nor did they speak to any of the royal guards as they had before.

They were careful. They avoided the guest wing entirely, making Zelda suspicious, yet she could do nothing about it. They hadn’t broken any rules. They hadn’t acted out of line.

But something was off.

Her attention remained on the Duke, but doubt gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The diplomatic talks were drawing to a close, but instead of relief, Zelda felt an unfamiliar tension rising within her. The Duke’s demeanor had changed. He seemed...happier. Almost too pleased.

His remarks, while outwardly appropriate, struck her as increasingly odd. Every time he expressed his sympathies over (Y/n)’s disappearance, it felt rehearsed, hollow, his words laced with a strange satisfaction she couldn’t quite place.

Zelda took a deep breath, forcing herself to dismiss the unease that coiled in her chest. "Things will turn out okay," she whispered under her breath, repeating the mantra like a spell. Link, was just overly worried, his protective instincts clouding his judgment. He had always been that way, especially when it came to people he cared about. This was all just...a misunderstanding.

But despite the calm she tried to project, the unease remained, simmering beneath her composure.

Several days passed in a haze of diplomacy and pleasantries. The talks concluded, and everything seemed to be falling into place. Yet the uneasy feeling that had plagued Zelda refused to leave, growing stronger with each passing hour.

Now, standing in her chambers, Zelda felt her stomach drop as she stared at the translated letters and documents laid out before her.

Her hands trembled as she traced the familiar writing, the unmistakable references to (Y/n), and she felt her heart pound in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears. The words blurred slightly, but there was no denying their meaning.

.

.

.

She had been wrong.

Across the room, Warriors stood with his arms crossed, his gaze cold and unblinking as he stared down at the documents. His expression, once filled with frustration and warning, had turned to something far more unsettling: icy, controlled fury. Impa stood beside him, her face a mask of stoicism, but even she couldn’t hide the tension in her voice as she reported her own findings from the foreign guards she had interrogated.

Zelda’s breath hitched, and she pressed her hands to the table to steady herself. Her vision swam for a moment, and she wished with everything in her that this wasn’t real. That she had been right all along. That she hadn’t been so very wrong.

But the truth was undeniable, and it hit her like a hammer.

Warriors’ gaze remained fixed on her, cold and unrelenting. There was no anger in his voice when he spoke, but the words cut deeper than any reprimand. "I warned you," he said quietly, his tone almost indifferent, as though he had resigned himself to the inevitability of this moment.

Zelda swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at any of them. She had doubted them. And now...

She had been so terribly wrong.

——-

———-

——-

The Duke paced back and forth in his chambers, watching with satisfaction as his servants hurried to pack his belongings. Everything was proceeding as planned. He could already envision his triumphant return home his ship laden with wealth, power, and his soon-to-be bride.

He smiled arrogantly to himself, imagining the rise in his status, the envious looks of the other nobles. Of course, it was only natural. His noble blood, his impeccable lineage, was destined for greatness. The girl, (Y/n), should consider herself blessed to stand beside him as his wife.

"She’ll settle down," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his cuffs with a self-satisfied grin. "Once she realizes her position... she’ll understand how fortunate she is."

His reverie was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps. One of his guards rushed into the room, eyes wide and face pale with unease. "M-My lord," the guard stammered. "You’re needed in the throne room. The princess has summoned you."

The Duke's mood darkened instantly. "The throne room? What could she possibly need at this hour?" he complained, irritation lacing his voice. He had to retrieve his bride from her chambers. He had far more important matters to attend to, like ensuring his ship was ready for departure.

Before the guard could answer, Impa appeared in the doorway, her expression impassive. She stood tall, unmoved by his complaints. "Your presence is requested by Princess Zelda," she said firmly.

The Duke glared at her, puffing up his chest in indignation. "I am a nobleman, Lady Impa. Surely, whatever the princess wishes can wait until I’ve—"

"It cannot," Impa interrupted, her tone cold and unwavering. "The princess is waiting, and it would be... unwise to keep her waiting any longer."

The Duke’s scowl deepened, but something in Impa's gaze told him there was no room for negotiation. Still, too confident in his own success, he relented with a huff. "Very well, I shall go. But this had better be brief," he muttered as he followed her down the corridors.

When they arrived at the throne room, Princess Zelda was already seated, her face calm and unreadable. The Duke forced a polite smile, bowing low in a show of respect. "Your Highness," he said smoothly, "I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. I understand you are quite busy, especially with my impending departure."

Zelda inclined her head slightly, her tone neutral. "I appreciate you taking the time from your preparations to attend to this matter."

The Duke straightened, his eyes sweeping the room. His heart leapt when he noticed the heroes, the Chain, standing off to the side. For a brief moment, greed flashed across his face. The heroes, known throughout the realms, were looking at him with mild curiosity, but there was no suspicion in their eyes. Perhaps he could further ingratiate himself with them...

He smiled and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Ah, the heroes of legend. What an honor to meet such esteemed individuals. I am the Duke of—"

"We know who you are," Time interrupted calmly, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "Just as you know who we are."

The Duke’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, laughing lightly as if Time’s response were a friendly jest. "Of course. Well met, indeed."

Zelda cleared her throat, drawing the Duke's attention back to her. "There have been... rumors circulating as of late," she began, her tone still calm, though a slight edge crept into her voice. "And I would like to clear them up before your departure. An outside perspective may help us resolve this matter."

The Duke’s confidence swelled once more. He could play the part of the nobleman offering his assistance. "Of course, Your Highness. I would be more than happy to offer my insight."

Zelda smiled briefly before her expression turned serious, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, Duke. Have you abducted the heroes’ companion in an attempt to wed her and elevate your status between our kingdoms?"

The question landed like a blow. The Duke froze, his heart skipping a beat. His mind raced as he struggled to maintain his composure. He forced a smile, though it was far more strained this time. "I-I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness..."

"You know exactly what she means," Warriors spoke up, his voice a low growl as he stepped forward. His blue eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto the Duke. "You know, of course, the identity of our dearest companion, correct?”

The Duke’s heart began to race, but he kept the smile plastered on his face, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Ah, yes, Lady (Y/n)... It is truly terrible how she has gone missing. I had hoped to meet her properly. I have always admired her bravery and strength..."

Warriors’ eyes narrowed, studying him for a long moment before relaxing ever so slightly. "Odd, don’t you think?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. "She vanished without a trace, yet no evidence, no sign of struggle, was found where she was last seen. Nor anywhere else in town. It’s almost as if... someone took great care to ensure there would be no trace."

The Duke felt the sweat begin to form on his brow. He forced a nervous chuckle. "It is certainly strange, yes. But I assure you, I know nothing of her disappearance. Still, I will offer any help I can. Perhaps... my resources might assist in the search?"

Zelda's eyes bore into him, unblinking. "Of course, Duke," she said softly, "you have expressed your concern for her safety many times and it is only right we ask you to assist us before you leave."

The room fell deathly silent. The Duke's smile faltered as the weight of tension hung in the air, his confidence beginning to crack under the pressure.

The Duke’s smile faltered, though he tried to hide it behind a facade of confusion. His voice remained calm, though there was a growing tension in his words. “I truly don’t understand what you are implying. This must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

Warriors scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “I’m sure you hope it’s a misunderstanding,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Zelda.

Zelda sighed, raising her hand slightly. “Enough,” she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. “We all know exactly what this situation is about.”

The Duke blinked, his unease deepening as Zelda’s gaze pierced through him. She took a breath, her tone steady as she spoke. “We know what you’ve done, Duke. You abducted (Y/n), intending to wed her in some twisted scheme to raise your status between our kingdoms.”

Her words hung in the air, the disbelief just barely audible in her tone, though her composure remained flawless. The Duke could feel his heart pounding, but he forced a smile, trying to salvage the situation. “Your Highness, I—”

“She’s not pleased about being taken by the likes of you,” Twilight said, cutting him off. His arms were crossed, his voice low with a simmering anger barely contained.

The Duke’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling as his composure began to slip. His lips curled into a tight sneer, though he tried to maintain a semblance of control. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner!” he spat, his voice rising in pitch. “Princess Zelda, if you even think our kingdoms will ever be allied after this, after I speak to my king, you have another thing coming.”

Warriors, leaning casually against a pillar, glanced at him with a cold smile. “If your homeland is filled with arrogant scum like you, Hyrule will be far better off without an alliance.”

Zelda shot Warriors a sharp look, but he returned it with an icy stare that made her look away, her lips tightening in disapproval.

The Duke was livid now, his face flushed with rage. “You have no proof!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. “No proof at all! I never imagined I’d be disrespected in such a way, especially by a princess whose own control over her soldiers is so... lacking.”

His insult was veiled, but the implication was clear. He smirked slightly as Zelda narrowed her eyes at him, even as the tension in the room thickened. “I have no interest in assisting anyone who would dare accuse me of such—”

He turned sharply on his heel, preparing to storm out of the throne room, when something solid and unforgiving struck him hard across the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his world spinning as stars exploded in his vision.

He lay on his back, stunned and dazed, his hand pressing against his cheek where he had been struck. A dull ringing filled his ears, and as he groaned, trying to sit up, a voice reached him, cold, furious, and all too familiar.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

His breath hitched in his throat as he slowly lifted his gaze. Standing over him was (Y/n), dressed in her usual tunic and pants, her hand still clenched into a tight fist. She was glaring down at him with an intensity that chilled him to his core.

The Duke’s heart sank as reality crashed down upon him. His plan, his entire scheme, had just fallen apart in a single, humiliating moment. And there, standing before him, was the very woman whose life he had sought to manipulate.

Her eyes blazed with fury as she looked down at him, and for the first time, the Duke felt a deep, gnawing fear that his plan wasn’t going the way he wanted it to.

——

——-

—-

(Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, the cold darkness of the room pressing in around her. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her knees, trying to ground herself, but the pain in her cheek pulsed, a constant reminder of her failed escape. She sniffled, though not out of sadness, her frustration and anger were boiling under the surface. The increased patrols made it impossible to find an opening, and her latest attempt to flee had been met with failure.

Tears welled up again, stinging her eyes, and she bit down on her lip. But these weren’t tears of despair—they were born from sheer rage. Through clenched teeth, she muttered, “I’m going to make him regret taking me… he’s going to pay for this.”

She buried her face in her knees, shaking with fury. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, and she hadn’t noticed the slight movement along them. Something had slipped through the small crack in the window, moving silently across the shadows. Another presence followed it, a ball of deep green light, small but vibrant, floating into the room like it belonged.

The dark shape continued its crawl along the wall, eyes locked on her from the shadows. The green light slowed, hovering closer to where (Y/n) sat, its soft glow a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness.

(Y/n) remained as she was, struggling to calm herself, talking to no one in particular. “I won’t give up,” she whispered fiercely. “I’ll gouge out that stupid Duke’s eyes if he tries to touch me again.”

The bed shifted beneath her as a weight slowly pressed down next to her. Her heart jumped, and she snapped her head up, prepared to scream at whoever had come in, assuming it was the Duke or one of his guards.

But her voice caught in her throat. There, staring down at her with wide, familiar blue eyes, were three faces she never thought she’d see again.

Legend. Hyrule. Wind.

For a moment, she was frozen, the disbelief crashing over her like a tidal wave. They were just as shocked, their emotions shifting rapidly, but one thing was clear on their faces, horror. Legend's gaze was fixed on her cheek, on the dark bruise marring her skin.

"(Y/n)..." Legend whispered, his voice low, rough with restrained anger. He frowned deeply, his expression hardening. “Was it the Duke? Did he do this to you?”

Hyrule was already lifting a hand toward her, his fingers glowing faintly with healing magic, his touch gentle as he reached for her bruised cheek. Wind, meanwhile, had his pirate’s charm in hand, speaking in a whisper to the others on the other side of the line. The charm was connected to Wild’s slate, allowing the rest of the heroes to hear. “We found her. She’s exactly where I thought she’d be.”

(Y/n) blinked, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. “H-how…?” she stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Wind, still glancing at her as he spoke into the charm, turned his attention back to her with a soft, apologetic smile. “We never stopped looking. I saw you, just for a second, before the guards took you around the corner and through that door. I could hear you through the door, but... I couldn’t do it alone, not with just Hyrule. We had to pull back and regroup, find the others, plan out how to get you out.”

His expression darkened with sadness as he continued. “We were so close, but we had to retreat. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you sooner.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from anger. She let out a small, shaky laugh, relief flooding through her as the tension of the past few days melted away. “I don’t care,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t care how long it took. You found me.”

Before any of them could react, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around them tightly, her body shaking with quiet sobs of relief. Legend, Hyrule, and Wind all stilled for a moment before they returned the embrace, each of them murmuring soft apologies and reassurances into her hair.

“You found me!” she said again, her voice a mixture of laughter and tears as she held them close. “You found me.”

She then burst into tears, holding onto them for dear life. The relief of being found so strong it tore down the brave face she had on this whole time.

—-

——-

—-

Once (Y/n) had calmed down, Legend slipped Ravio's bracelet onto his wrist, its power thrumming faintly as it activated. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nodded to Wind, who gripped her shoulder tightly. The next second, (Y/n) felt her body shift as they melted into the wall, blending into the stone, now part of the very structure of the building.

The sensation was strange at first, but (Y/n) was too focused on getting out to care.

Legend pulled them along slowly, careful to keep his pace measured. Wind, with his typical energy, seemed uncharacteristically focused, scanning every shadow for potential danger. Above them, Hyrule shifted into his fairy form, his tiny glowing figure darting ahead and around corners, silently signaling to the group when guards were passing or when they needed to halt and wait.

The quiet was tense but necessary. They moved like shadows, avoiding detection by inches as guards patrolled the halls. Every time a guard came near, Hyrule would zip back, his hands waving frantically for them to stay still. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, after navigating the sudden maze of the the guest wing, they slipped out into the night air and made their way back to where the rest of the heroes were waiting.

The moment (Y/n) was led into the small clearing where the group had made a temporary camp beyond the castle walls, it was like a dam had broken. She barely had time to take in the sight of them, Time, Sky, Twilight, Wild, Warriors, Four, before they were all moving toward her, each of them enveloping her in hug after hug.

She cried again, the sheer joy of being back with them, safe. Each hero had the same expression, utter relief and unbridled joy that she was back with them, whole and alive.

They held her as though they couldn’t bear to let go, each of them murmuring apologies, pressing their foreheads against hers, reassuring her over and over that she was safe. She could hardly breathe through the overwhelming flood of emotions.

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she clung to them, the weight of everything finally settling. “Please… I..I need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “They took my favorite ones when they captured me.”

Before she could say anything more, Sky stepped forward, pulling something from his pouch. It was a pair of familiar pants and a tunic, her clothes. “I made sure to purchase duplicates,” he said softly, a gentle smile on his face. “I always kept a set with me, just in case. I thought… well, I thought you might need them someday.

She stared at him, eyes wide, and without thinking, she blurted out, "I could kiss you for this."

Sky flushed a deep red, his eyes widening for a moment before he coughed into his hand, trying to compose himself. "Just… doing what I can," he muttered with a small smile.

The others, still surrounding her, began to apologize once again, each of them looking torn between guilt and relief. But she shook her head, cutting them off before they could continue.

“We can talk about all that tomorrow,” she said, her voice still shaky but firm. “Right now… I just want to get as far away from that place as possible, use one of you as a hugging pillow, probably cry a bit more.”

She sniffled, “ Just…don’t leave me alone. Please? Not for a second.”

The tension in the air dissipated slightly as the heroes exchanged soft smiles and nods of understanding.

Carefully they led her away from the castle. Leading her towards the inn in town they had paid for rooms in.

That night, they took turns letting her cling to them, none of them leaving her side. They slept in the same room, surrounding her with their warmth and presence, posting themselves by the windows and the door for her peace of mind. For the first time in days, she slept without fear. Falling asleep to arms wrapped around her and kisses pressed on the top of her head.

——

---

——

Morning came slowly, the light creeping into the room as (Y/n) woke with a start, her heart racing. For a split second, she panicked, her mind spinning, believing she was still trapped in that horrible place. But then, an arm wrapped around her, pulling her towards the person, a hand gently rubbing her back.

It was the scent that helped her settle further.

Of hounds and goats, and forests.

She looked up to find Twilight beside her, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The others stirred around her, each of them waking with the same soft, tired smiles. "You’re safe," Twilight murmured quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re with us. Go on, say it back.”

Tears pricked at her eyes again, but she bit them back, taking deep, steadying breaths. "I’m with you," she repeated, grounding herself in the present.

“Atta girl.”

Wild, havjng left while they slept to make breakfast, had whipped up one of her favorite meals for breakfast. The moment the familiar smell hit her nose, her emotions caught up with her, and she burst into tears once more.

The heroes all jumped in panic, worried something had gone wrong. "What happened? Are you okay?" Wild asked, rushing over, his face full of concern.

“I… I didn’t think I would miss this taste,” she had a wobbly smile, laughing through the tears. "But I missed it so much."

They quickly gathered around her, offering her comfort as she cried, until finally, her tears slowed.

They all sighed in relief, and after a few more minutes, (Y/n) calmed down, taking small bites of the meal as they all sat around her.

Once she had eaten and bathed, feeling more like herself for the first time in a month in the clothes Sky had given her, she told them everything. How she was taken, who had done it, and the Duke’s twisted plans for her.

The air around the camp turned cold, their faces darkening with anger. Their rage only deepened when she told them about how the Duke had struck her. Wind and Hyrule looked devastated, their faces filled with guilt as they lowered their eyes.

Before they could utter a word, she raised her voice, firm and unyielding. "Don’t," she said, her eyes blazing. "Don’t you dare blame yourselves. You did everything you could to protect me. I don’t like that I was hit, but I would rather take one hit if it means you found me when you did."

Hyrule, his eyes still brimming with guilt, lifted his hand and gently pressed it against her bruised cheek, sending a soft wave of healing magic through her. There hasn’t been much pain the first place since he first healed it but remaining pain melted away as the last traces of the bruise disappeared. "I’m sorry," he whispered softly.

She leaned into Twilight’s arms as he pulled her against him, wrapping his arm securely around her. She allowed herself to breathe for a moment, the tension slowly leaving her body.

Warriors left the room in silence, his steps heavy but deliberate. As the door closed behind him, the air in the room seemed to lighten, but the tension wasn’t gone, just shifted. Time waited a few moments before following, slipping out into the hallway to find Warriors.

Down the hall, Warriors stood by a large window, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were fixed on the distant silhouette of the castle, the source of all their troubles. The morning light cast a glow over him, he seemed calm, but Time could see the whites of his knuckles as he gripped his arms, holding himself together as tightly as he could.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Warriors broke the silence, his voice low but full of barely restrained fury. “I want nothing more than to shake Zelda for not believing me. For dismissing my warnings,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “And the Duke… I want to personally hurt him with my own two hands for what he planned, for what he already did to her.”

Time didn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. He knew that feeling well, the burn of rage simmering beneath the surface. “You’re not wrong to feel that,” Time said finally, his voice calm but understanding. “I feel the same way. I’d like nothing more than to make him pay for what he’s done.”

Warriors’ shoulders relaxed slightly at Time’s words, but the tension still held him rigid. “Then what are we supposed to do with that?” Warriors asked, his voice hoarse with frustration. “That anger, it’s just sitting there, and I can’t get rid of it.”

Time stepped closer, resting a hand on the windowsill beside Warriors. “We use it,” he said firmly. “We focus it on getting justice for (Y/n). This isn’t about satisfying our rage; it’s about making sure she’s never hurt like this again. We take that anger, and we channel it into action. Into planning.”

Warriors stared at the castle a moment longer, then nodded, though his fists remained clenched. “I’ll do that,” he said quietly. “For her.”

Time gave him a brief, approving nod before turning back toward the room. As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll tell her you went to patrol around the building for a moment,” he said. “Take this time to calm yourself before you come back.”

Warriors said nothing, but Time could sense the gratitude in his silence. With a final glance, Time returned to the others, leaving Warriors alone with his thoughts, the faint light of the castle still casting its shadow over the town.

———

——

———

The room was still as her voice faded. (Y/n) slowly lowered her fist, her chest rising and falling as she took a deep breath. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That. Felt really good," she muttered under her breath.

Zelda, standing beside her, let out a short huff of amusement. "I’m sure it was," she said, her tone light, though her eyes stayed fixed on the Duke, who was still staring at (Y/n) in disbelief, his cheek already bruising. The silence stretched, the tension in the room palpable as all eyes turned toward the disgraced nobleman.

Zelda straightened, her expression hardening as she addressed him. "I have several questions, Duke," she began, her voice cold but measured. "How exactly did you think this plan of yours would work? Kidnapping someone of her standing, did you truly believe you could force her hand in marriage and no one would question it?"

The Duke's face twisted, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Warriors stepped forward, cutting him off with his own biting words. "Your plan had more holes than you realized," he said coldly. "The marriage wouldn’t have lasted a moment once it was discovered that she was unwilling. You thought bribing officials and keeping her hidden would fool us forever?" He shook his head, disgust coloring his voice. "It was only a matter of time before it unraveled. You were a fool if you thought otherwise."

The Duke’s face turned a deep shade of red, his fury rising at being called out so plainly. His hands clenched at his sides as he shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "You dare speak to me this way? I demand reparations for this grave insult!" he shouted. "This slander against my name will not—"

Before he could finish, Impa stepped forward from the shadows, her voice calm but lethal. "Slander?" she echoed, her gaze sharp. "I hardly think so, considering what we found in your quarters. Documents, letters, correspondence with bribed officials. You paid them to turn a blind eye, to pretend they hadn’t seen her."

A murmur rippled through the room as the weight of Impa’s words sank in. The Duke’s face paled, his fury giving way to panic as he realized how exposed he truly was. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his rage crumbling into disbelief.

Warriors’ expression darkened, his icy gaze settling on the Duke. "You’re finished," he said simply, his tone unforgiving. There was no satisfaction in his voice, just a cold, calculating edge.

For a brief moment, Zelda’s face flickered with something close to shame. She quickly masked it before the Duke could notice, turning her attention back to him, her voice steady. "Your actions have consequences, Duke," she said, her tone regal and final. "And you will face them."

Zelda's expression remained steely as she turned her cold gaze back to the Duke. "The officials you bribed will suffer the same fate," she said icily, watching as the color drained from the Duke’s face. "Their involvement in this conspiracy will not go unpunished."

The room seemed to grow colder, tension thick in the air. Zelda shifted her focus to (Y/n), her voice softening, though still serious. "While we all know the answer, (Y/n)," she began, "I must still ask you formally, was it the Duke who orchestrated your abduction with the intent to force you into marriage?"

Without hesitation, (Y/n) lifted her chin and answered firmly, "Yes."

Zelda gave a short nod, her expression one of grim determination. "Then it is decided. I will arrange for the Duke’s immediate departure." Her tone left no room for argument, her words carrying the full weight of her authority as the Princess of Hyrule.

The Duke, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation, surged to his feet, his face red with fury. "You can’t do this!" he bellowed, his voice shaking with desperation. "I demand—"

Zelda didn’t flinch. She stared down at him, her icy gaze unyielding. "You are no longer welcome within the borders of the Hyrule Kingdom," she declared, her voice as sharp as a blade. "From this moment forward, you are outlawed and forbidden from ever returning to our lands."

The Duke's face flushed a deep crimson as Zelda's words cut through the room. His composure cracked, and he shot to his feet, voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You can't do this!" he bellowed, slamming a fist onto the table before him. "I demand reparations for this insult! I am a noble of considerable standing! You cannot simply throw me out like common filth!"

Zelda, unimpressed, remained calm, though her eyes blazed with cold authority. "Your title means nothing when weighed against your crimes. Hyrule will not be blackmailed by the likes of you."

The Duke’s lip curled in disdain, his tone shifting as he desperately tried to appeal to reason. "This is all a misunderstanding! I was only thinking of the kingdom! A union with someone as... independent as Lady (Y/n) would have strengthened ties. I saw an opportunity to guide her, to help her understand the complexities of noble life. It was for the good of the realm—"

"Forcing someone into marriage is hardly a diplomatic solution," Zelda interrupted, her voice hard.

The Duke ignored her, eyes narrowing as he turned toward (Y/n). "And as for you, Lady (Y/n)," he spat, his words coated with venom, "I suspect you enjoyed the thought of having my power and status. Isn’t that what this is really about? You've must have resented your place in the world, haven't you? You crave more. Why else would you go through such trouble, surrounding yourself with these so-called heroes? If you’d just accepted the offer, none of this would be happening."

(Y/n) stared at him, her anger barely held in check, but before she could retort, the Duke turned his attention to the Chain. His eyes flicked between them as if trying to gauge which one might be swayed by his manipulative words. "And you," he said, adopting a falsely genial tone, "surely you understand how these things work. Men of our stature, of our experience, must sometimes take necessary actions for the greater good. You cannot possibly condone such insolence from one as lowborn as her."

The heroes’ expressions darkened, each of them standing a little straighter, shoulders tensing. But it was Warriors who stepped forward, the calm command of his noble training radiating from him like a sword unsheathed. He inclined his head slightly, addressing the Duke in a measured, almost pleasant tone.

"I must admit, it is a rare thing to witness such a... unique perspective on marriage and nobility," Warriors began, his voice smooth, his smile thin. "But your words, how… interesting. You believe dear (Y/n)’s resistance is due to her desire for power and status, is that correct?"

The Duke, sensing an opportunity, straightened his spine and smiled smugly. "Indeed. Women often dream above their station, after all. It’s in their nature to be ambitious, to latch onto those who can elevate them." He glanced at Zelda, his tone condescending. "Even the most... esteemed among them need guidance."

Warriors nodded thoughtfully, as if in agreement, and the Duke, emboldened, continued, "Exactly! It's the duty of men like us to make the difficult decisions. Women, you see, they don't understand the weight of responsibility that comes with power. They get emotional, irrational—"

"Interesting," Warriors said, cutting him off. His expression hardened, all traces of civility draining from his voice. "Because from where I stand, it seems you're the one whose emotions are driving your actions. Manipulating officials, forging documents, and resorting to brute force to get what you want, sounds like desperation, not diplomacy."

The Duke's smugness faltered. "I... I merely sought to secure what was rightfully mine!"

"You speak of women needing guidance," Warriors continued, his voice turning sharp, eyes flashing with anger at his words, "yet it appears you're the one who needed guidance. You thought coercion, lies, and violence were the answer. And when faced with resistance, you attempted to shame Lady (Y/n) and Her Highness, as though they were the ones at fault for your crimes." He gestured to the rest of the Chain, who stood, eyes burning with disgust. "Do you really think any of us would support you? You’ve proven yourself to be nothing more than a coward."

The Duke, realizing he’d been led into a trap, turned a deep shade of red, his hands shaking. "I-I—how dare you speak to me like this! I won’t be lectured by some glorified soldier—"

Before he could finish, he sneered as he looked at (y/n) who scoffed, the Duke lunged at (Y/n), rage overtaking him. His hand shot out, aimed to strike her, but (Y/n) was ready. She stepped forward, her fist flying before the Duke could lay a finger on her. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

(Y/n) didn’t stop there. As the Duke clutched his face in shock, she delivered a swift, brutal kick to his crotch. He doubled over, gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain.

"I was wrong about the earlier hit," (Y/n) said, glaring down at him, "THAT one felt really good."

Impa, along with the royal guards, stepped forward immediately, seizing the Duke by his arms and dragging him to his feet. "Take him," Zelda commanded, her voice cold and final. "Escort him to retrieve his belongings and see to it that he leaves our kingdom immediately."

The Duke, still doubled over and groaning, could only offer a weak protest as the guards hauled him away. Impa followed silently, her presence a dark shadow looming behind the fallen noble.

Zelda watched them leave, her expression impassive, before turning to (Y/n). "Well done," she said softly, her voice carrying an air of finality. "It seems justice has been served."

Zelda stood in silence for a moment, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze shifted from the door where the Duke had been dragged away, then back to (Y/n). She took a slow breath, and when she spoke, her voice was softer, more uncertain.

“I... owe you an apology,” Zelda said, meeting (Y/n)’s eyes. “For not believing in you or in what Warriors had tried to tell me. I should have listened sooner.”

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, crossing her arms as she considered her words. "Logically, I get it. You were stuck between me and your entire kingdom, and your hands were tied in a lot of ways. I understand that.”

Zelda gave a small nod, hope flickering in her eyes.

“But emotionally,” (Y/n) continued, her voice tightening, “it still hurt. A lot. It’s going to take me a while to forgive you for that. Just because I understand doesn’t mean my emotions fall in line. There was a moment where it felt like it was me against everything, and you were standing with him.”

Zelda’s face fell, though she tried to mask her hurt behind a fragile smile. “I see... I’m sorry that I caused you pain, and I don’t expect your forgiveness right away. I just want you to know that I’m grateful you understand, even if only logically.”

(Y/n) gave a curt nod. “I know I’ll forgive you eventually. But I just need time.”

Zelda bowed her head slightly. "Take all the time you need. Thank you for being honest with me." She hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. Before she passed through the door, she glanced at Warriors, her expression apologetic, almost pleading for some kind of acknowledgment or absolution.

Warriors, however, merely looked back at her with hollow eyes, no anger, no hatred, just a cold, unreadable emptiness. Zelda’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she quickly left without another word.

Once she was gone, the tension in the room broke. Several of the heroes immediately surrounded (Y/n), their moods lightening.

“That punch was incredible,” Wind grinned, throwing a playful jab in the air. “I thought he’d choke on his own teeth!”

"That was a well aimed kick too," Twilight added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Couldn’t have happened to a better man."

Four, less vocal but still visibly pleased, nodded approvingly. “You took him down before he could even blink.”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Pathetic man. Acting all high and mighty just to end up whining and crying like a child.”

(Y/n) laughed, though the tension still lingered in her shoulders. “People like him are everywhere back in my world too. Power hungry, entitled, always thinking they’re owed something.”

“I’d say you handled that pretty well,” Warriors remarked, his tone light but still holding an edge. "Not many can say they’ve landed a hit like that on a duke."

(Y/n) smiled, though there was a weariness in her expression. “I never wanted to be targeted by someone like him. But I guess that’s just how things go sometimes.”

The heroes chuckled, exchanging light banter as they began to shift focus to their plans for the evening. The mood in the room had turned, easing into something far more relaxed. They talked about finding somewhere to get a decent meal, or perhaps just enjoying a quiet night to themselves for once.

But beneath the laughter and casual conversations, there were unspoken glances being passed among the group. Each hero’s eyes flickered with something darker, something more dangerous. They hadn’t forgotten the Duke’s words, nor had they let go of the cold fury building inside them. Each of them was already calculating how they would deal with the Duke once and for all.

(Y/n), blissfully unaware of the tension simmering just below the surface, continued to chat with Wind and Four, oblivious to the silent promise the others were making to themselves.

The Duke wouldn’t escape justice. Not if they had anything to say about it.

And as plans were made with (y/n) to relax for the evening, the true reckoning was yet to come.

——

————

——

The Duke stormed through his lavish quarters, his face twisted in rage. Ornate vases shattered against the walls, and the fine tapestries he'd hung to flaunt his wealth were torn down in fits of fury. His chest heaved as he threw whatever was in reach, shouting to no one in particular.

"That damned woman ruined everything!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the polished wooden walls of the ship. His mind replayed the events of the throne room, how his meticulously crafted plan had fallen apart, how (Y/n) had humiliated him in front princess and the heroes. The memory of her punch, the jeering eyes of the heroes, and Zelda’s cold condemnation burned in his mind like a brand.

His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t care that (Y/n) had been innocent. It didn’t matter that he had tried to force her into a marriage. What mattered was that his plan had failed, and now he was the one who looked like a fool.

“She should have kept her mouth shut!” he seethed, pacing back and forth, his boots clacking against the finely polished floors. “She could have had everything! The wealth, the title, being wed to a man of nobility like myself! What more could she have wanted? A commoner like her, rising to such heights, and she threw it away! Stupid girl. She could have lived in luxury, been pampered for the rest of her life.”

He paused, his pacing halting as he turned to glare out the small window of his chamber, his hands shaking with the force of his grip. “And now, thanks to her, my reputation is in ruins. That cursed woman has cost me everything! The king will surely look down on me. The other nobles will mock me for failing to bring her to heel. Me! They’ll say I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle one woman.”

His voice dropped to a bitter mutter as he resumed his pacing. “It’s all her fault. She is the reason for this disgrace.”

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered, slamming into the wall with a sharp grunt, his palm bracing against the wood to keep from falling. The room tilted dangerously for a moment before righting itself, and the Duke cursed under his breath.

“What in the—” he hissed, pushing himself upright. His brow furrowed, and his temper flared anew. “Incompetent fools! Can’t even keep a ship steady on the water! I’ll have the crew flogged for this!”

He stomped toward the door, still muttering under his breath about the ineptitude of the lower class. But just as his hand reached for the door handle, the ship lurched again, this time with even more force. He was thrown backward, his back slamming into the table, scattering papers and broken trinkets everywhere.

“What is going on out there?!” he roared, scrambling to his feet once more. Anger and frustration warred with a growing sense of unease, but he shook it off as he stumbled into the hallway, determined to find the captain and demand an explanation for the erratic movements of the ship.

Whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal.

And the Duke wasn’t prepared for what awaited him on the deck.

The Duke stormed out onto the deck, the chill of the night air biting at his skin. It was dark, the moon hanging low in the sky, shrouded in thick clouds, and the wind whipped through his hair, making his coat billow around him. His frustration boiled over as he squinted into the blackness, seeing no one around.

"Where the hell is everyone?!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "What is the meaning of this reckless sailing?!"

No response came. The only sounds were the crash of the waves against the ship's hull and the eerie groan of the wood beneath his feet. He waited, fists clenched at his sides, his blood pumping hot with rage.

“Answer me, damn you!” he shouted again, his voice cracking slightly with the force of his anger. Still, no one replied. The deck was eerily empty, the shadows stretching longer in the flickering lantern light. He could hear the distant rush of water and feel the ship sway beneath him.

The silence hung like a weight on his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. The Duke muttered under his breath, "Where is everyone?"

As if in response to his words, the ship lurched again, harder than before. The violent motion knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling onto the deck. His hand smacked painfully against the wood, and he winced, scrambling to his knees with a groan.

“Blast it all!” he cursed, rising shakily. His hand still throbbed, but his pride ached worse. "What is going on?!"

A low voice drifted through the wind, calm and measured, with an edge that sent a chill down the Duke’s spine.

“They’re not on the ship anymore.”

The Duke’s head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening as he peered up towards the helm. There, silhouetted against the night sky, stood a figure. His stance was casual, one hand resting on the railing, while the other hung loosely at his side. The wind tugged at his blue scarf, but he stood steady, unbothered by the storm raging around him.

The Duke’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized him.

The Hero of Warriors.

Warriors gazed out toward the sea, his expression unreadable, not bothering to acknowledge the Duke’s presence right away. His voice was low, cutting through the night like a knife. “The crew was given a choice.”

The ship rocked again, this time more violently, and the Duke had to reach out to steady himself against the mast. The wind whipped around them, howling through the rigging like a vengeful spirit. Warriors, however, didn’t move, standing firm as if the tempest was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

“They made their choice,” Warriors continued, his tone steady and cold. “Fortunately for them, they didn’t struggle.”

The Duke’s heart raced. His mouth went dry as the full weight of the situation pressed down on him. “What... what do you mean, they didn’t struggle?” he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt to sound authoritative.

Warriors finally turned his gaze towards him, blue eyes cold and sharp, cutting through the dark. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, descending the steps from the helm with an eerie calmness that only made the Duke’s fear intensify.

“But you,” Warriors said, voice dropping lower as he drew closer, “you and the men in your pocket? You won’t be given a choice.”

The Duke’s breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step back.

Something heavy landed behind him with a thick, sickening thud. The Duke froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, he turned his head. His eyes widened in terror as they landed on the twisted form of one of his personal guards, crumpled grotesquely on the deck. The man’s limbs were bent at unnatural angles, and his lifeless, pain filled eyes stared blankly at the Duke. His throat tightened as bile rose, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

He stumbled backward, his breathing rapid and shallow, before his gaze flicked upwards. A strangled gasp escaped him as he saw several more of his guards, their bodies dangling limply from the crow’s nest, their legs bound, swaying in the wind like gruesome puppets.

Panic gripped him. His chest heaved as he staggered back further, his hands trembling uncontrollably. This wasn’t just some accident or punishment, it was a spectacle. A message.

Up above, on the crow’s nest, a figure stood with their arms raised, weaving through the air. The Duke could see them moving, and as their hands shifted, the wind seemed to respond, whipping through the sails with forceful gusts that made the entire ship creak and groan under the pressure.

“Eager to participate,” came Warriors’ cold, casual voice behind him, drawing the Duke’s attention back. “The sailor was particularly enthusiastic about dealing with you.” Warriors’ gaze remained locked on the Duke, his expression hard as steel. “He came up with the idea to hang your men like that. Thought it’d make an impression on you.”

The Duke swallowed hard, his mouth dry as dust, eyes darting from the swaying bodies to the figure atop the crow’s nest. He recognized him now, the youngest Hero amongst the famed group, the legendary baton of his in hand, controlling the very gales battering the ship.

Wind’s movements were precise, almost rhythmic, and with each shift of his baton, the wind seemed to intensify, as if the very element was singing as it bent to his will. The sight made the Duke’s blood run cold.

Warriors took another step forward, his voice dropping into something colder, more dangerous. “You should thank him. He’s made sure your men won’t feel a thing anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “But you, Duke, you don’t get that mercy.”

The Duke’s knees buckled as he stumbled back again, the gruesome sight above him and the bone-chilling presence of Warriors before him coiling around his heart like a vice.

Warriors stepped forward, the ship groaning under the force of the wind as if the entire vessel knew what was about to unfold. He looked at the Duke, a calm, almost dispassionate gaze fixed on him. "I’m not here to lay a hand on you," he said, his tone as steady as the sea before a storm. "No, sadly that’s not my role tonight."

The Duke swallowed hard, but Warriors continued, his boots tapping lightly on the wooden deck as he descended the stairs, his steps calm despite the chaos surrounding them. "I’m just here to deliver a message from the rest of my companions. Your fate was sealed the moment you decided to target *her*." His voice was sharp, cutting through the howling winds that now whipped fiercely around them. "If you had been smarter, if you’d offered your services to us, covered our tracks when we needed it... perhaps you’d have a chance at redemption."

Warriors stopped, his voice lowering, but still audible over the roaring wind. "But you didn’t. You chose to lay your hand on the one person you never should’ve touched." His words struck like a hammer, and the Duke’s face paled, his confidence unraveling in the face of the calm malice in Warriors' voice.

Panic welled up inside him, and the Duke’s voice trembled as he tried to negotiate. “M-My king will hear about this! This will start a war! You can’t—”

Warriors tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “That’s only if you manage to make it back to your king.” As if on cue, the haunting melody of an ocarina began to play, seemingly from nowhere. The Duke’s eyes widened as dark clouds began to roll in, blotting out the moon, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

The ship groaned louder, the wooden beams straining under the building pressure. The Duke felt the deck shudder beneath his feet, a terrifying crack ringing out through the air as though the ship itself was beginning to break apart.

Desperation filled his voice as he stumbled forward, hands shaking. “Wait, please! Sir Hero, you have to see reason! I can—”

But Warriors simply shook his head, watching the Duke with cold, unwavering eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered, the distaste clear in his voice.

Before the Duke could respond, Wind landed beside him with a graceful thud, having swung down from the crow’s nest with his grappling hook. The Duke’s eyes flickered with hope as he latched onto Wind’s arm, clutching him in a last, desperate bid for salvation. "Y-You! You must convince him! Convince him to see reason!"

Wind looked down at the Duke with a wide grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Where’s all that noble decorum now, huh? Funny how it disappears the moment you’re cornered.” He wrenched his arm free with little effort, leaving the Duke to stagger back. Without another word, Wind turned and joined Warriors, pulling back out his Wind Waker and preparing to play.

The eerie notes of the baton began to fill the air, and the wind responded, sang to his command, swirling and intensifying as Wind conducted the melody.

Just as the song reached its peak, Warriors, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, glanced back at the Duke. "You know," he said, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, "I don’t think I ever learned your actual name."

The Duke blinked, his mouth opening in disbelief as he tried to stammer out a response.

Warriors shrugged, already turning away. "I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore."

At that moment, Wind’s song reached its climax, and a massive cyclone formed, engulfing Warriors and Wind in a spiraling vortex of air. Within moments, they vanished, whisked away by the magic of the winds, leaving the Duke alone on the rapidly deteriorating ship.

The ship rocked violently, tilting dangerously to one side as the storm fully unleashed its fury. The Duke stumbled, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the sea swell beneath him, the waves rising higher and higher. The ship’s creaking intensified, sharp cracking sounds echoing as the wood began to splinter.

“No… this isn’t happening!” the Duke muttered to himself, shaking his head. “This—this can’t be happening! It’s all just a nightmare…!” His voice rose in pitch as he backed away from the railing, eyes wide with denial. “I’ll be fine! I’ll be fine!”

But the ship lurched again, throwing him to the deck as the storm raged on, the winds howling like a beast hungry for destruction. The vessel groaned one last time, a final, desperate sound as it began to split.

The Duke’s terror reached its breaking point. He scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and raw with panic. “No! No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Someone, anyone, save me!”

His scream echoed across the stormy sea, but there was no one left to hear him. As the ship gave its final shudder and the waves crashed over the deck, the Duke’s cries were swallowed by the storm, lost in the unforgiving darkness.

————

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——

———

————

A week or two later, (y/n) sat with a few of the heroes, relaying the latest rumors she’d overheard from the guards and servants. “They say the Duke’s ship was attacked by pirates and destroyed by a massive storm,” she said, looking down at her tea. “Apparently, no one survived.”

The group exchanged surprised glances. Hyrule raised an eyebrow. "Pirates and a storm? That's some poetic justice."

Twilight chuckled. “Ironic, considering the Duke’s ambitions.”

Legend leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He got what he deserved. Swift and final.”

(y/n) sighed, leaning back. “Karma works fast sometimes.” She jumped a little when she felt a pair of hands settle gently on her shoulders. Time had snuck up behind her, his presence calm but strong as ever. He leaned down slightly, his voice low as he murmured, “At least, now, the Duke will never lay a hand on you again.”

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "I’m relieved, but... I can’t help feeling sad that the crew had to die. They were innocent, after all." Her voice softened. “I just wish pirates were like Wind.”

Legend snorted. “Tell him that, and he’ll get an even bigger head than he already has.”

Four piped up with a smirk. “Big head? He’s barely got a head at all with how small he is.”

Twilight laughed, joining in. “Maybe the wind carries his brain away every time he uses his Wind Waker.”

Hyrule, attempting to defend their absent companion, shook his head. “Come on, Wind’s not that bad!”

(y/n) laughed, clearly entertained. “Wind’s a sweetheart! Just because he’s small doesn’t mean he’s brainless.” She grinned at Four and Twilight. "He’s got more brains than you two combined."

The group descended into playful bickering, with (y/n) gleefully holding her own as they teased and defendedd Wind. Time’s hands slipped away from her shoulders, and he stepped back, the sound of her laughter lightening his expression. Witout a word, he turned and quietly left the room, letting their cheerful voices fade behind him.

As he stepped into the corridor, he was greeted by Wild and Sky. Wild gave him a nod. “Warriors and Wind are waiting outside.”

Sky smiled, glancing back at the door. “Sounds like there’s a bit of chaos going on in there. You did good work, Time.”

Time gave his usual half-smile, a faint curve of his lips that spoke volumes. "Appreciate it." He watched as Wild and Sky exchanged grins and headed back into the room, eager to join in the lively spat still unfolding within.

Time continued outside, where Warriors and Wind stood waiting. The breeze was cool, the sky darkening as evening approached. Wind was leaning against the railing, a slight pout on his face, while Warriors stood tall beside him, his arms crossed in quiet satisfaction.

“Good work, both of you,” Time said, his voice steady and appreciative. “The Duke won’t trouble her again.”

“Good work yourself for summoning that storm.” Warriors said with a chuckle.

Wind sighed dramatically. “Legend’s been such a bother ever since I asked for some of his cursed rings. He’s so stingy! Like, come on, it’s just a little curse. I needed them for the guards!”

Warriors chuckled. “You’ve got enough mischief to handle without cursed rings. But honestly, I’m just glad the whole thing with the Duke is over. He was a problem that needed solving.”

There was a pause, Warriors’ face more thoughtful as he asked, “The crew we let go... you think they’ll keep quiet?”

Wind perked up, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, absolutely. We gave them the Duke’s valuables and a hefty amount of rupees. No one’s going to open their mouths about us after that.”

Time nodded. “They would not be lying when they say they were attacked by pirates,” Wind snickers at that. “They never had any loyalty to a man who treated them like tools. Those that did? They were as pathetic as he was.”

Warriors sighed, a small smile forming as he shook his head. “Shame we couldn’t have done more to him. But I suppose watching him crumble in fear was enough.”

Wind stretched, clearly pleased with the outcome. “The fear in his eyes? Priceless.” He grinned wide. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Time nodded again, the shadows in his expression fading as the three of them moved on to simpler topics, small banter about their next steps, where they would go, what else to do now that the Duke was no longer in the picture.

It was as though the events on the Duke’s ship were already distant memories, the murder of the Duke and his men insignificant.

All that mattered now was (y/n), and where next they would go with her by their side.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Helloooo, I can request omega bakugou helping his mate/alpha ace reader with their rut? I thought it might be sfw since u don't feel like writing smut atp :3

Omega Katsuki Bakugou x Ace Alpha male reader

Headcanons

(aged up characters, obviously)

Seeing ace requests in my inbox always make my smile because, hey, that’s me. Where my ace homies at. I’ve very rarely written omegaverse before, but I got so much worldbuilding about it, if you guys are interested.

I have too much worldbuilding and ideas about Omegaverse, so this is a little out of the norm for your usual smut filled rut plot.

For omegaverse, I never imagine that heats or ruts turn you into a horny breeding crazed animal. Yes, with your mate you will feel a lot more arousal and might have moments where you become fueled by your desires, but the majority can still control themselves.

For you, who’s Ace as well, the breeding part isn’t present more than your bodies instincts, but its nothing extreme. It feels the same as when you are really hungry. Sure, the feeling is there, but you can easily go about your day and not let it bother you.

But ruts do more than just make you want to have a lot of pups and crawl all over your omega, even if your omega is as hot as Katsuki is. It tends to cause a lot of stress on the body, from cramping muscles to overheating, dehydration, pacing and other factors that could lead to stress.

So, in Katsuki’s situation, his job during your ruts is mainly to take care of you. To make sure you’re eating and drinking enough fluids. That you aren’t overheating by patting you down with a cold cloth or using ice packs, or even making you cold baths.

He treats it a lot like a very horribly cold for the most part. Sure, your scent also makes him slick up a little and makes his own scent sweeter and riper, but Katsuki is still clear headed and more focused on taking care of you. Especially when he knows you do the same for him when he has heats.

I imagine Katsuki is still his usual snappy growly self, but he doesn’t yell, since ruts also makes your hearing more sensitive. Instead, he just grumbles a lot. With a lot of insults that has no heat thrown in, just because its Katsuki.

As an alpha, you don’t really need a nest, but you bet your damn ass Katsuki makes you one. And only with the best rut materials out there. He won’t accept anything but the best, and Katsuki honestly stresses more about your rut nest than he does his own heat nest.

It reaches a point where, during the early stages of your rut, you just kinda have to thrown yourself in it and show him you like it and accept it.

I could imagine Katsuki worrying a lot, since he knows your ace and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his own scent. Does it bother you that he starts smelling like preheat? Does it make your rut worse? Better? Does he need to leave?

He would also fear crawling into the nest with you, at least in the beginning. After you pull him in multiple times, or tell him to get in, he starts to calm down. You can’t stop him from worrying though, it’s in his blood.

Being ace also doesn’t mean you don’t feel arousal and the like, so if you need to get off, he’s not gonna stop you, and wont touch you unless you want him too. Katsuki knows it won’t go farther than just some touching, if it even gets to that, and he’s more than satisfied.

Having and Ace partner honestly probably helps take some of the stress of his shoulders. He knows you won’t have the same expectations as some other alphas, that he needs to give up on his hero career and be a “good” omega.

Which is also why he’s ready to bend himself backwards to make sure you are comfortable during your rut. Even if staying nearby and taking as much care of you as possible pushes him into preheat, Katsuki is strong enough mentally to keep it bottled up until your rut it over.

This does mean you end up having to take care of him afterwards too, and you gotta call in favors with your friends to cover Katsuki’s patrols, since he didn’t expect to go into heat.

But all in all, ruts with Katsuki are a very planned out affair. Sure, you feel miserable and like you’re boiling on the inside, never able to find a comfortable sleeping position, and like you need to claw your own flesh off. But at least Katsuki is by your side the entire time, ready to hold your hand or hold you as a whole if you need too.

You do have to put up with his nagging though, but you know its just how he shows affection, so in the end it makes you purr at him. Which just gets Katsuki to get all flustered and pretty.