#flashlight trio

[puhpandas]

video game headcanons for the fnaf kids:

Gregory and Evan play mario party together. Gregory will create made up beef with one of the CPUs if they ever cross him and he'll convince Evan to team up with him to pound them into the ground so they'll lose

Gregory would be an animal jam kid. he would be one of those super rich nonmembers that somehow got a ton of rares and cant wear any of them. he uses the tiger or bunny and the colors on it look like glamrock freddys colors. he'll invite Cassie to his den and she'll have a membership and a cute pink/purple avatar. Cassies den is beautifully decorated and she collects pets to put in their own corner

Gregory, Evan and Cassie play animal crossing. Cassie plays and knows the process of project KK like the back of her hand and can complete it in no time. she grinds to get all of the cute items and villagers and will have a bunch of island themes and reset when shes finished to make another. she loves her villagers and only likes the cute ones. she for sure made a raceway island once with Vivian as her fave

Evan plays animal crossing and will just chill. he has no intense goals or interests he just has a completely normal looking island and will take any villager he gets and love them and be nice to them. he completes his daily nook mileage tasks every day and will say hi to his villagers, and then probably fish

Gregory doesnt care about how his island looks. he kind of cares about his villagers but not if they get in the way (or he makes up imaginary beef with them). theres trash and items all over his island and hes wearing the ugliest outfit you've ever seen. all he does is catch bugs and fish and dig for fossils. he only cares about the museum, so he'll grind nook miles to get tickets to visit deserted islands. since he doesnt care about clothes or items he has TONS of bells and likes to see how many he can wrack up with no cheating. they all visit eachothers islands and Cassie always gives Gregory a better outfit when she visits, and Evan will give Gregory golden tools

they all play roblox. Gregory uses his canonical computer skills to create an amazing roblox game and it always has tens of thousands or more players in it and he has tons of robux and limiteds. he plays FPS games and trading games and always had value lists bookmarked on his computer

Cassie has a cute well put together avatar (probably with some UGC roxy item, like maybe her plushie in a bag), and she plays Gregory's game all the time. they always team up and fight with people in drama games and get them voted out.

Evan has an account, but hes just a bacon hair with no robux. it looks like hes a noob but if you go to his account his join date is years earlier. he plays calm games like any simulator or hello kitty cafe, or trading games. he doesnt have a computer so he can only play on his phone. hes actually good at FPS games, but his phone hinders him a lot. he uses a sniper so he can just find a position and use his fast reflexes to get people that way

Gregory Evan and Cassie will play roblox together and Gregory has to use his alt (his alt has robux and hes wearing a shirt that says I'm with stupid->). theyll play things like Outlaster and Gregory and Cassie will cook up some drama with some random player and Cassie will use her tons of items to use vote cards and stuff like that on them.

Gregory is super cracked at the game and wins every game almost instantly. nobody can go up against his GGY skills and everybody hates him for it and targets him. Evan cant move well enough on his phone to be super good at the parkour, and he doesn't want to be mean to anybody, but he pulls through at the end and tells someone off for being mean to Gregory and wins them the game by using one of his items on the Gregory hater during elimination

Gregory and Cassie play splatoon, but Evan doesnt have a switch to play with them. Gregory mains duelies and will be that guy that goes in your spawn and kills you with his cracked skills (only in turf war tho, he has honor). if evan did have a switch, he would main the e-litre and/or the splat roller.

if he used the elitre, gregory would leave his position as a spawn camper to come back and guard Evan while he gets kills. if evan used the splat roller, he would be perfectly content using the roll feature to ink any turf behind the battle (and somehow roll people over in the process lol)

Cassie likes to hide in ink and kill people. she'll get a weapon with squid beacons and hide in a corner on top of one, so when someone comes to break it she'll jump out and kill them. she thinks its hilarious every time

that's all I got for now. thinking about these guys being normal kids is so fun their group could be so funny lol

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss >:] and a written out talking to myself because i think it’s funny that it looks like a star wars intro

[numberfiveisback]

what if I drew a whole ass comic for ACAL? my brain wouldn't dare let me I'd become too powerful. but uh... lil' scene with Evan getting his body. lookit the boy. the happiest boy.

ignore how shitty this actually is I had to sketch it out before the motivation vanished and lo and behold it's gone

[lilacs-stash]

Some fankids.

I made some babies. You might've seen some in my doodle dump from a few months ago.

Rosey is my favorite. She's kinda just Lily Dangervest's objectsona tho.

Ice-aid and Flower pot might be sapphics for each other not sure yet. But they're definitely very close.

Flower pot and Rosey are distant cousins (Pickle and Clover are first cousins in my headcanon so Idk what the makes their kids)

And some bonus concept art for moon.

that's all.

[pey-up]

Posting new tcatb chapter soon i SWEAR i just suck at ending chapters</3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do one where the reader is Stan and ford’s childhood friend? I’d imagine that they would both be SUPER protective, and later in adulthood they move in with does to help with his research. Stanley and ford secretly developed a crush on them over time but neither have admitted their feelings 🤭🤭

I made this one too fucking long as well the to might need to make a part two as not to overwhelming people.

You probably threw sand in some bullies eyes when they didn’t leave poor Ford alone/ and or comforted Ford alongside Stan afterwards bc confrontation wasn’t your thing. Either way it didn’t take long for you, Stan and Ford to become a well known trio in the town of New Jersey, one was never seen without the other two trailing behind.

You three were inseparable.

Ford was the brains and intellect

Stan was the protective fighter

And you were the mediator, the confidant, the person who’d encourage the twins to keep moving forward for that was the only way to go.

The mystery trio you called yourselves as you’d spend countless hours on the beech, searching for the abnormal and mysterious with nothing but your flashlights and determination to make a name for yourselves.

You didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, you thought they were cool and told him often that you were jealous.

‘Why?’ He’d ask.

‘It’s cooler to be different than it is to fit in the norm.’ You’d tell him as you’d both sit somewhere overlooking the beach, hearing the cries of seagulls and the crashing of the waves against the sandy beaches. ‘One day everyone is going to try and find something abnormal about themselves to fit in, as though they weren’t the same people who’d shun people for being a little different. They’ll never admit that they’re the bad guy and all they want is attention and will throw a tantrum when they don’t get it.’

You then placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘So don’t listen to them Stanford, you’ll make a name of yourself one day and they’ll all flock to you like moths to a flame. High six?’ You raised your hand.

‘High six.’ Ford replied as you high-fived/ high-sixed each other.

Their dad didn’t like you but you didn’t give a shit because you didn’t like him all that much either with how he treated Stanley in comparison to Ford and would often refuse to go to their house when you knew he was there.

Shermie pines however adored you for keeping her boys in line and being their friend and practically adopted you into the family as she would then move her attention to her sons.

‘So which one of you is going to fall for them first?’ She would ask as Stan and Ford look at her with flustered cheeks.

‘They’re just a friend!’

‘Yeah a friend!’ The twins defective words would overlap which didn’t help their matching blushes that looked like cherry tomatoes by now.

Shermie would then throw her arms over the boys’ shoulders and said. ‘That’s what they all say until it becomes harder to ignore what you truly feel for them. Now it might be platonic but what about later on in the future where you look at them and suddenly think about planning a future with them.’

Now at this point neither Ford nor Stan truly understand what they felt for you at the time, they only thought they were being your protective friends who’d glare at whoever from behind your back if they caught them looking at you weird. They thought they were looking out for you much like you did for them as they stood on either side of you like two towering towers.

After all they didn’t have that many friends besides each other form such a young and so having you in their corner made you all the more special to the brothers.

You and Stan would playfully rough house, doddle in the margins of a notebook or write in code that you’ve only just made up on the spot to one, another and just do dumb goofy stuff in your spare time.

You and Ford would read, come up with theories about the things in New Jersey to make them more interesting than they were, go on a ‘monster chase of the week’ type of adventures when you were bored and in need of thrills.

Stan and Ford were your boys and you would have their backs no matter what as they always had yours in return. Much how like you made Cathy’s life hell after she threw punch at Ford, thinking that standing in solidarity with him as you and Stan both threw punch at each other and making a right ass of yourselves in order to make Ford feel better.

You and Stan then tp’d the bitches house and probably caused property damage but if they couldn’t see the person who did it, then did it actually happened in the first place? (Stans logical explanation to why tp someone’s house in the dead of night was a great guise.)

Or the time you had gotten stood up on a date and Stan threatened the beat the little shit up while Ford - equally as upset at the coward who stood you up- was more focused on comforting you and reminding you of your self worth and how it should be dictated by you alone and not some temporary crush.

You thought that it would be you, Ford and Stanley against everyone, that you’d get to live with them until you were old and grey but life ultimately took you and Ford in different directions from Stanley, who at this point had resorted to conning people for a living after being kicked out of the house by his cunt of a father.

The rift between the brothers that you though wouldn’t split from another for more then five minutes was larger then you’d like to admit, and it broke your heart to see them stand across from one another rather then beside each other.

Your parents refused to take him in afterwards despite your begging and pleading that you’ll do better in school if they house Stanley for a while. Needless to say you were gutted about not having your friend in your life that you didn’t take to your parents for a good while.

You did fairly well in school and ended up in Backupsmore university with Ford, who found a new friend in fiddleford and spent countless days and nights in the library doing extensive studies on the abnormal and the mysterious. You and Ford didn’t have as much time for each other as you use to as kids, that and you couldn’t contact Stanley who was god knows where, god knows what and getting into a fuckton of trouble. You missed it when days were a hell of a lot more simpler but that’s not how life worked and you were being told this constantly.

Ford was excelling at everything while you were average at best and while Ford tried to help, he could tell your heart wasn’t in to listening what he had to say and he knew the reason why.

‘You miss Stan.’ He says one day when you came to his dorm for help.

‘And you don’t seem to miss him one bit.’ You replied as you doodled a cartoon version of yourself, Stan and Ford celebrating a well earned victory over some weird lake monster that had a comedically large bump on it head.

‘He ruined his own life y/n why can’t you accept that.’ He reminds you but it was obvious that you weren’t so willing to hear him out as you use to be. ‘I could’ve helped him Ford, I could’ve!’ You cried.

‘But he didn’t want your help, he was on the path of self destruction and he didn’t want you getting caught in the aftermath of it all.’ Ford said as he placed his hand on your shoulder, much like you did to him when you were younger. ‘Stan is stubborn but wouldn’t avoid you for no reason.’ Ford adds as you look at him.

‘And how would you know that?’ You asked, brow raised.

‘Because I wouldn’t avoid you for no reason either.’ Ford admitted and you swore your saw a blush cut across his face. This conversation never gets brought up again by Ford as no matter how often you reminded him of it, he’s try to change the subject to something else entirely with a nervous laugh and shifty eyes.

You knew something was up and hated being left in the dark but you knew Ford was equally as stubborn as his brother, whether that’s something he’d like to admit or not. However life moved on and so did you as soon you found yourself becoming Ford’s assistant and moving to Gravity Falls, a small town not on any map but had a reputation for being a little odd much like its residence.

[puhpandas]

@numberfiveisback

golden duo + gregory!

inspired by the ao3 fic; Another Chance at Life by NumberFiveIsBack! this story got me thinking ab this trio fr

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐆𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

*total fic is 15k

7K

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Mean!Rafe, Bully!Rafe, bulling, Rafe is an ass, name calling, degredation, swearing, drinking, smoking, drug usage, kissing, praise, size kink, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), rough oral, multiple orgasms, spanking, violence, fighting, ownership kink, pet names, multiple POVs, violence, gore, horror, stalking, blood mentioned, gaslighting, lovers to enemies to lovers, reader is quick to forgive, mentions of mutual masterbation, teasing, cheating, possessive Rafe, jealousy

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Sweetheart! Reader isn't from the OBX. She met Kiara (roomate) at college and quickly became friends with the Pogues. The group decided to join the reader, working at Camp Salem which she attended every summer since she was little. After junior high she became a camp counselor herself. Sweetheart!Reader is just that, a sweetheart. She's a lover-girl and quick to forgive. She's hard to read regarding her sexual experience-her sweetness is irresistible to Rafe. He fantasizes about corrupting her and stripping her of that. Sweetheart!Reader wears her heart on her sleeve, making her the perfect target for her bully, Rafe Cameron.

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Canon-wise this Rafe is the closest to Season 1 Rafe. He is the definition of touch starved, touched but untouched, craving intimacy because it makes him feel better, even if it's just for a few moments. The only awful thing he did in his past in this AU is to be an asshole to the Pogues. He and the Kook trio are serving community service hours assigned from the university at Camp Salem after getting in trouble for something at the end of the last school year (undisclosed drinking violation). This being something they couldn't pay their way out of.

Reader’s POV:

You wrap your towel around your wet hair, twisting it in place before gathering your toiletries, stepping toward the door into the night. It’s late as hell, the camp almost completely dark, but you needed to wash the night off you.

You hike through the clearing, following the path from the shower house to the sidewalk, returning to your bunk. All of the lights in Rafe’s cabin are off; a part of you hoping that the light would be on so you could stop by and apologize for leaving things the way you did… He was right. In the morning, he’d gone. Nothing would be resolved. The two of you would go separate ways until you ran into each other in the fall. But maybe that’s for the best.

SNAP.

Your head turns on a swivel, looking into the woods. A squirrel hops out of a tree onto the grass, bounding into the darkness. The little spike in your heart rate falls almost as fast as it rose.

SNAP.

There’s another crack, leaves rustle in the distance. Your heart starts to pick up speed again as you try your best to concentrate on your surroundings, but it’s so dark. You shine your flashlight toward the path of the sound, watching as a shadow shifts in the trees. “Hello?” Your voice comes out small and feeble. It’s Rafe… It’s gotta be. Maybe JJ? Assholes. “Ha. Ha.” You fake a laugh, tone dripping with disgust.

You look toward Rafe’s cabin, now lit. Rafe walks past the window with a beer, passing it to Kelce. Your heart starts to pick up pace again as you become more and more conscious of the sounds around you, each seemingly more threatening than the last. You scream bloody murder as a big figure moves past you fast in the direction of safety, leading you to flee in the opposite direction.

You sprint into the woods, branches whipping against your face and body as you maneuver from whatever terrors are behind you. Your lungs burn as you race faster than ever, stumbling and clinging to trees as you do your best to stay on your feet. “HELP ME!” You shriek as you cut to the left, racing along the woods on the backside of the cabins toward your own bunk. “HELP ME. PLEASE.”

You can hear the pounding of feet against the earth behind you, too terrified to look back, knowing that if you do, you’ll lose ground. Panic courses through your system as the noises around you get louder and louder. Just a little further.

You tumble over the brush onto the land below, hitting the forest floor with a bang. You look back for a second, catching the shadow of a towering figure, making it all that more real. He walks toward you as you claw your way to your feet, struggling through the damp ground, blundering to stand. You feel a hand slam against your back, grabbing your arm as well, jerking you the rest of the way to your feet.

“Rafe!” You gasp.

“We gotta get somewhere safe,” he whispers sharply as he takes his hand in yours, dragging you toward your cabin. You glance over your shoulder, looking back to the woods, watching the shadow of the man unmoved. “C’mon,” he pleads for you to move faster, dragging you through the woods toward your bunk.

“Why are you out here?” You pant.

“I saw you,” he huffs. “I saw you walkin’ back from the showers at night by yourself. Are you fuckin’ crazy?” He scolds. “Then I heard you screamin’. There’s someone in the fuckin’ woods. He grabs the door to your cabin, pulling it open before slamming it shut, throwing the lock closed, shoving a chair under the handle. “Where the hell are Zoey and Laura?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fuckin’ know,” you panic, the two of you fall to the old wooden floor, scurrying against the wall, falling out of sight. Your heart continues to pound in your chest, anxiety and fear, making it impossible to think clearly. Rafe looks down at you, clasping your hand in his.

“It’ll be alright. Okay?”

You pinch your eyes shut, nodding fast. “Do you think it was JJ? It had to be-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispers.

“What? I said ‘do you think it was JJ?’”

“Probably… I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he tries again.

“It’s fine,” you answer quickly, knowing he wants more from you.

“It’s not fine-”

“Rafe! We can’t do this right now. Are you fucking kidding me? There’s someone in the woods chasin’ us, and you want to talk about us. Are you serious right now?” Rafe takes a deep breath, running his hand through his bangs, gritting his teeth as he tries his best to comply with your wishes but he just can’t.

“It’s important.”

Your eyes tighten on his; your fear shifting to anger as well. “You’ve had months to talk to me, Rafe, and you chose right now to have another heart-to-heart?”

“I need you to understand how I feel.” His voice wavers.

“You're unbelievable.”

“Ya know what. Fine,” he huffs, through hurt feelings. You look back at him in disbelief, shaking your head. Crawling to your knees, you lift the curtain, staring down the line of cabins—everything’s still. “Y/n…”

“Fuck, Rafe! What?” You snap in annoyance as you reach for your toiletry bag, fishing out your walkie-talkie.

“STOP!” He gasps, resting his hand on it, stopping you.

“Why? I need to make sure everyone else is okay. I need to know if it was JJ or not.” Rafe keeps his hand on top of yours, looking back at you shamefully before hanging his head. No… Your anger builds as you look at him, the man too guilty to even make eye contact. “You didn’t…”

“I’m sorry…” He whispers. ”It was Topper. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“RAFE, LOOK AT ME,” you scream, showing him your body covered in dirt and gashes. “I could have gotten really hurt. If I had a weapon, I would have killed Topper. Why would you do this?”

He takes a deep breath. The weight of your questions all valid; his behavior inexcusable yet again, and he knows it. “You weren’t gonna fuckin’ talk to me. You weren’t gonna let me be alone with you. You were done with me. I just wanted to get you alone. Zoey and Laura are fine. Okay? I paid ‘em a hundred bucks each to hang out at the cabin with the boys.”

”They’re in on it too?” You ask disgustedly.

“No. Fuck, just me and the boys. I told Zoey I wanted a night alone with you and that Topper and Kelce were sad saps with no fuckin’ game. Okay? They think they’re doin’ us a favor. Nothin’ more.”

“A favor,” you laugh ailingly, looking back at him in disbelief.

“I needed to get you alone. I needed you to listen.”

“And you thought terrorizing me first was the best way to do it? I was looking at your cabin. I was walking down from the showers looking for a light in your bunk so I could apologize to you for how I left things… You know. LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!”

“I’m sorry,” he blubbers.

“‘I’m sorry. I’m SO sorry. I'm fucking sorry, y/n.’” You mock him, at your wit’s end. “Why can’t you just act normally? Huh? Why couldn’t you just apologize to me before? Why did you have to terrorize me all fuckin’ year? Why couldn’t you have just used your goddamn words for something good? What kind of logic led you to this, Rafe?”

“Stop, please. Just stop yellin’ at me. I’m just fuck— I’m sorry.”

“Stop yelling at you? Fuck you! I have every right to yell at you. You know what a dick you are?” You scream, your voice rising as you stand up, backing away from him, heart pounding. He stands with you, arms up, trying to calm you down, but you're too upset.

“Stop, sweetheart,” he pleads as he reaches for you.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart, Rafe? Bitch, whore, slut, priss, prude. Those are just some of the names you’ve called me TODAY and now I'm sweetheart?”

He grabs you and you fight against him, trying to break out of his grasp, shoving and banging on his chest as tears flood your eyes. “Stop, baby. I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry. Stop,” he whispers, his voice soft and coarse, an undercurrent of pleading flowing beneath. He's not giving in, unwilling to let go, still letting you get your jabs in.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“No. I'm not gonna let you go.”

“FUCK!”

You stop completely, hiccuping and battling for breath. Your eyes lift open, face to face with Rafe, chests rising and falling together. Your muscles soften, shoulders falling; Rafe wraps his big arms around you, hearts banging against each other. Rafe turns his head, the warmth of words ghosting across your sweat-glassed skin. “Please listen to me. I swear I'll leave you alone,” he whispers, his words tight with sentiment. You tilt back, looking for his face. Rafe lowers himself to his knees in front of you submissively. “M’begging you… Just let me explain myself. Just let me apologize, princess. I don't deserve anymore of your time, but I'm begging you for it.” His eyes sparkle with tears as he continues to plead wordlessly for your forgiveness. His eyes shut, tears tumbling down his flushed cheeks as his chin quivers.

Rafe… Him leaving me alone is the last thing I want.

Leaning down you claim his lips, kissing him soft and sweet, shattering the tension. Rafe’s eyes flutter open, completely caught off guard before they close again. You reach out, wiping your thumbs across his cheeks as you cup his face, catching his tears. For the first time in months, the weight has lifted. Rafe wraps his arms around you, standing up again, his large hands grab your waist, trembling slightly. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, hoping you’ll speak. You exhale slowly as you realize just how much you needed that…

“I’m listening,” you whisper, barely above a breath.

His eyes swell with a storm of emotions—pain, shame, and that bitterness he’s been carrying for months. “Thank you…” He says, his voice trembling with feelings. “ I - I tried to move on. I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s like… nothing works anymore. I’ve been depressed—ever since I lost you. Being with other people used to help, distract me… but not anymore. Nothing helps. I got so angry, really fuckin’ angry because I kept telling myself I could get over it. But all I’ve done is watch you from a distance, and it’s driving me crazy. It makes me hate myself because I’m the one who messed it all up. I pushed you away, and now… Now, I’m paying for it.” His frustration and sadness pours out in a confession that’s been held for too long; it breaks something inside you, too, hearing how upset he is. He’s not angry at anyone but himself, consumed by shame and fear; clashing with the reality that it might be too late to fix anything.

He pulls you closer, expecting you to tug away, but you don’t. “I’m bad at this. Alright? I don’t know how to tell people how I feel. I don’t know how to act. I'm selfish, y/n. I'm an awful fuckin’ person. I don’t deserve you. I know that. But I cannot stop thinkin’ about you. It makes me so mad that you are so deep in my head. I was tryin’ my best to leave you alone all year, pushing you away by bein’ a complete ass. Why would you want to be with someone who treats you like shit? I like you… Way too fuckin’ much. N’I haven’t been with anyone since I lost you. I'm not gonna lie to you I tried but it just wasn't working. I'm the worst version on myself, y/n. And, that's really fuckin’ bad.” You look back at him as tears pool in your eyes, completely overwhelmed yourself, still not over the mess in the woods or the truths leaving Rafe’s lips.

“What did you think was gonna happen, Rafe?” You ask shakily. “You were gonna scare me to death, save me, and everything would be okay?”

He bites his cheek, brows pinched together as he hears just how ridiculous that sounds. “I mean… Yeah. That’s exactly what I was hopin’ would happen,” he sighs. “Maybe you’d stop hatin’ me and see how much I care. I don’t fuckin’ know. Didn't think that far ahead. I was fuckin’ desperate, y/n,” he sighs.

“You wanna know what you could have done, Rafe?” You mumble as he looks up at you with puffy, tear-filled eyes, making your heart melt at the pitiful man. “You could have just stayed for the rest of the summer and tried to make it work. Earned my trust. Stopped being such a fuckin’ dick.” He hangs his head and nods, taking in every word.

Rafe breathes deeply, holding in his breath before pressing it out nice and slow. ”I hate it here. You know?” He mutters.

“We all know.”

“I’d do it for you… But fuck, this place sucks,” he sighs tiredly.

“Why did you choose this instead of doing something else? Why here?”

“You remember when we went to breakfast at that shitty diner downtown?”

“Mhmm…”

“Well, I remember you tellin’ me that you came here every summer. And when the dean asked me where I wanted to complete my probation hours, it was an easy choice.” You reach over, caressing his bruised, tear-soaked cheek in your hand. He melts into your touch, his beautiful blue eyes opening on yours. “Every time I spit that bullshit, it was just that—all the mean things I threw at you, it was all a lie. I didn’t mean any of it.” He swallows hard, his thumbs brushing lightly over your fingers as if he still can’t believe you're letting him speak. “I never stopped wanting you,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I said some awful shit to you.”

“You did.”

“I did…” He mumbles pathetically, his eyes glass over like he’s recalling each one. “You were right; that night, you told me I was a boy, not a man. I’ve been actin’ like that since. I’ll work on it, I swear. I'm just sorry-”

“I forgive you,” you stop him in a gentle tone, whispering those three words he was hoping you’d say. Rafe stares at you in disbelief, letting it sink in.

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, hoping you won’t agree again, knowing it’s not what he deserves. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done apologizing.” Rafe leans in this time, pressing another kiss against your lips. “So… Am I stealin’ you from, Heyward?” He asks, already knowing the answer. You shake your head ‘no,’ making him smile.

“Just tryin’ to make you jealous,” you admit.

“It worked,” he answers quickly. “It worked a little too well.”

You sigh, anger fading as you look back at the beautiful man before you. “Are you gonna stay?” You ask. Rafe grabs your hand, kissing your palm, basking in your request.

“‘Course I’ll stay. It might kill me, though,” he laughs weakly.

“You might enjoy it a little more now,” you smile as you step a little closer, feeling your body warm up.

“Why’s that?” Rafe asks coyly as he tilts his head, giving you a look that has you all but falling to your knees.

“Guess we’ll see how the night goes.”

“Yeah?” He asks surprisedly.

“Mhmm…”

“Well, damn…. You don’t really hate me. Do you?”

“I hated how you were acting, but I’ve never hated you, Rafe.”

“Never ever,” He asks, his voice deep, just a little playful, making the two of you smile as you both push closer and closer.

”Never…” You whisper against his lips, feeling him smile against yours.

“What about five minutes ago? You were pretty mad, princess.”

“That was mean, Rafe Cameron.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You still think I’m a pussy?” Rafe asks as he cocks an eyebrow.

“Depends…”

“Depends, baby? What the hell?” He drawls with a husky laugh as he puts his large hand on your thigh, squeezing tight.

“Are you gonna take what you want-”

Rafe’s lips crash into yours as you give him the green light. The two of you ripping off clothes between deep, heated kisses until all that’s left is your skin against his. Rafe pulls you into his lap, slowing down the pace enough to savor your kiss just like he did the first night you were together, making it that much sweeter.

He wraps his big arms around you tightly, laying you down on the bed. “Oh shit,” he gasps, letting out a lusty laugh as you roll yourself on top, straddling his lap, bearding your weight on your hands, pressed against his firm chest. His heart races underneath as he looks up at you in awe, holding your hips in his large hands, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, following your movements as you grind your wet pussy on his hard dick. “You a virgin?” The question lingers in the air, raw and vulnerable as you hesitate, unsure how to answer. Before you can say a word, his expression changes—something dark flickers across light eyes. His jaw tightens, Rafe shakes his head, pulling back slightly as if the very thought is unbearable “I can’t hear it. I can’t handle it,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I asked. Just the thought of you with someone else, it—it kills me. I can’t stand it. No one existed before me. Understand?” He huffs, his word fading to a deep moan as you move your hand between your thighs, wrapping your fingers around his thick dick, tilting your body closer.

You breathe against his mouth as you stroke his long length nice and slow. “That goes for you too, Rafe. And after…” His eyes roll back as you feed his possessive side. A deep, gravelly moan thunders in his throat as you kiss along his jawline.

“There’s no one before or after, baby. You're mine.” Rafe’s head falls deeper into the pillow, giving you access to his skin, your lips taking purchase of his neck, kissing lower and lower, his muscles tightening under your soft touches. You tease him with the tip of your tongue, tracing his deep v-line as you work your way between his thighs, finally getting a good look at his rock-hard cock; pussy pulsing, body aching to be stuffed full of him.

You wrap your fingers around his dick, holding him straight, licking along the side of his dick, making him moan needily. Your tongue travels across his hard skin, exploring every inch, taunting him some more. He grips your hair suddenly, making you gasp, goosebumps fanning across his thick thighs. You flick your eyes at him, catching his rapid breathing.

"Y/n... Please," he begs, causing a smirk to stretch across your lips.

“After all that teasing, Rafey, you don’t think you deserve some of that treatment,” you mock.

A little trail of precum rolls down the side of his heavy cock, making your mouth water. You trace the trail of his vein, making him shudder out a breath. “You’re bullying me…” He pouts as he shakes his head and smiles, the man on cloud nine, as you kiss and suck on his head sloppily. “N’you’re tellin’ me I coulda had these pretty lips wrapped around my dick for the last year,” he lauds as you rub his tip against your pillowy lips, his swollen head sheened with spit.

Rafe rests his big hands on the top of your head, scratching his rough fingertips in your hair, causing your eyes to fall shut. You take his cue, wrapping your lips around him, taking him inch by inch. "Yeah, baby. Just like that," he groans. Rafe guides you, stroking his cock with your mouth, pitching his hips, driving his tip to the back of your throat, causing you to gag. You suck in your cheeks, keeping your lips tight around his thick cock, feeling a slight ache in your jaw as you bob up and down. “Ugh, shit - Mmphf… You’re so fuckin’ good at suckin’ dick. Fucking hell,” he praises.

You add your hand, working him closer and closer to his peak. Your wrist moves in tandem with your mouth, laboring messily, thoroughly coating his cock with your saliva, slurping and squelching, making his toes curl with each stroke of your fist. Praise falls from his lips as he mutters incoherently, trying to keep his eyes on yours.

Rafe’s grip on your hair tightens as a husky moan releases from his lips. You take him deep in your throat before sucking back to his tip, pulling a pathetic whimper from his mouth as he looks back at you, watching as tears roll down your cheeks. Rafe reaches out, brushing them away with his thumb before sucking it clean as you stroke his cock in your hand. "Fuck you look good, princess, Mmm... Gonna cum-”

"Where do you want it," you whisper warmly against his throbbing dick.

"Mouth… Fuck, I wanna cum in that pretty fuckin’ mouth," he pleads as your lips circle him again, spit seeping down to his balls. The sensation and pleasure of it all sends him over the edge. Rafe’s toned hips jolt upwards, thighs trembling and flexing tightly. “Fuckk, y/n,” he moans as his sticky load paints the back of your throat. His eyes pinch shut, cock throbbing on your tongue as you milk out his last bits of pleasure. You draw your lips off him slowly, Rafe’s big body melting into your bed. "Co’mere, princess," he whispers drunkenly, sighing as you slink higher, working toward his lips. “You’re my girl,” he mumbles between kisses. “My fuckin’ girl.”

"M’Yours, Rafe,” you whisper, kissing deeply.

“No more makin’ me jealous. Aight? Makes me fuckin’ crazy.”

“You don’t say,” you chuckle breathily, rubbing your thumb across his bruised cheek.

“Honestly, it scares me how much I like you, y/n. Thinking about anyone else getting to be with you, getting that… Fuck, baby. It’s too much to think about. That was so much better than I imagined…” You lean down, kissing him nice and slow, tasting a slight tinge of blood from his split lip. He hums against your lips, taking in the sweetness of your chapstick and the taste of himself lingering as well.

“You think about me?”

“All the time. Thought about you suckin’ my dick way too much,” he laughs as he rubs his hands over his eyes. "Are you gonna let me take care of you, princess?" You bite your lip and nod as Rafe rolls you to your back, staring down at you with lust-filled eyes, the damp fringe of his bangs skimming his forehead. He leans down for a kiss, claiming your mouth; his tongue works between your lips, reeling slow.

Rafe leaves your kiss, working toward your jaw, sucking along your neck, making you moan. "You make some pretty sweet sounds, y/n," he sighs as he moves to your chest, kissing and nipping at your skin. “Bet you’re pussy’s even sweeter.” His mouth makes its way over to your nipple, tracing and flicking, blowing lightly, making your back arch off the mattress of the small bunk.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as he works lower, following the curve of your waist with his rough fingers. Rafe lowers himself, landing between your thighs, nearing your cunt with a smile. "Shit, y/n," he pants as his hand grazes your pussy, running his large fingers through your slick folds. You purr at his touch. "So fuckin' wet for me," he rasps. You gasp as he hooks your legs in his big biceps, pulling you close.

“I-” You feel your heart start to race again as Rafe licks a line up your slit, circling softly when he reaches your clit. “I - shit. I haven’t done this before.”

Rafe moans into your pussy at the sound of your admittance. Your thighs draw in, squeezing his broad shoulders. He gropes your legs, pushing you against the mattress, looking up at you with a fire in his eyes. “Never?” He asks curiously. You shake your head ‘no’, staring back at him with doll-like eyes that has him yearning to corrupt you in any way he can.

“No. I just haven’t done this…”

“Saving it for me. Huh?” He toys as he kisses down the inside of your thighs, nibbling at your sensitive skin, making you mewl. The warmth of his breath hits your soaked core, making you whimper at the new sensation. Rafe’s tongue hits you again, brushing from side to side. You wiggle away slightly; your sensitivity at an all-time high but Rafe doesn't let up, curling his arms tighter, pulling you even closer than before.

"Fuck, Rafe," you pant.

"Mmm... Look at you. Takin’ my mouth so well, princess. Feels good. Huh?" He hums as he works a little lower, spitting on your pussy, teasing your entrance with his tongue.

"So good," you weep, bucking your hips. His nose brushes against your clit; tongue slipping in and out. Your thighs start to tremble. "Oh, Rafe... So—So fucking good,” you babble as he licks a stripe up your silk, landing on your clit again. You glance down, meeting his eyes, his half-lidded stare brimming with pleasure, pussy-drunk off your taste. He plunges two thick fingers in your entrance, making you cry out.

"Such a good little slut for me,” he burns, fucking you with his digits.

"Yes. Fuck!"

"Say it."

"I'm a good — oh.”

"Say it, princess. You don’t want me to stop. Do you?” He bullies.

“If you stop— Fuck. If you stop…” He robs you of your words completely as he sucks down on your clit.

“If I stop. What? You threatenin’ me?” He mumbles against your drenched cunt, giving you a sleazy laugh before slapping your pussy.

"Fuck! I'm a little slut for-” Rafe cuts you off yet again with two curled fingers, hitting that special spot. You feel yourself tightening around his hand as you near your bliss.

"For who, now? Loss for words, princess?"

"Shit," you snivel. “S-Stop teasing me, or I'm not gonna let you fuck me. How does that sound?”

"Oh shit. Yeah? Really? Fuck, princess… You - You want to? You want that?" He asks in a barrage of words, his tone needy and charged with desperation. He replaces his tongue with his thumb, fingers thrusting wildly.

"Yes! Yes, Rafe," you squeal as you cum for him, clenching around his big fingers. You soak his hand and the sheet below, back arching as Rafe continues to please you, applying firm pressure, bottoming you out with his hand.

"That’s my girl," he praises as he watches you writhe in pleasure. You relax around him, fighting for a breath. Rafe draws his fingers out slowly, bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. "Mmm... Fuck me," he groans as his eyes roll back.

Rafe pulls you into his chest, holding you close as you come down from your high, kissing your neck, your cheeks, your lips, anywhere and everywhere he can reach “How was that, y/n?” He smiles against your kiss. “Think you’d wanna do that again?” He brushes your hair off your dewy skin, kissing your forehead and the tip of your nose before meeting your lips as you come down from your high.

“You can’t leave. Please promise me you’ll stay,” you plead through panting breaths, making him chuckle and smile.

“Goddamn… That good. Huh?”

“So good. Oh my god,” you mumble as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. You look at him, giving him a smile that has him melting.

“Can’t believe I treated you so bad. I’m gonna make it up to you. I promise. How could I treat someone so fuckin’ perfect like I did? Huh?” He mutters as he kisses your neck and chest.

”Not sure,” you whisper, feeling butterflies in your stomach as his eyes flick to yours, hanging on to every word. “But, you can start makin’ it better.”

“Mhmm… I caught that little threat,” he breathes, his smile heard in his low tone. “Were you serious or just fuckin’ with me? That's cruel. But, I’d deserve it,” you pull back, catching his pouted lip.

"You're my weakness, Rafe,” you whisper, watching a smirk tug on the corner of his lips. “I wanna feel you inside me.”

"Shittt… S’that so?" He bites his lip, hearing exactly what he wanted to hear. “How are you so forgiving? Why are you bein’ so nice to me?” He asks as he crawls to your lips; hard cock dragging against your tummy, smudging precum along your warm skin. Rafe lays himself down on top of you, pinning you to the bed. He grabs your cheeks with one hand, kissing your lips roughly.

“‘Cause I like you. You’re showing me how much you care… That’s all I wanted, Rafe. I just want to be all you wanted. I think I am-”

“You are.” He stops you. “You… You are all I want, Y/n. I'm gonna make you feel that.”

“I need it, Rafe.”

"So damn needy, baby doll. I love it," he croons as he leans in, breathing heavily with you as he swirls his fat tip around your drooling hole, pressing in just enough to make your mouth fall in a soft “o,” moaning into his mouth at the stretch. “Mmm, fuck. Sounded better than I dreamed it would," he mutters; thrusting into you roughly, giving you all of him, making you scream his name. "Fuck, sweetheart. Keep goin’. Yeah? Keep saying my name," he lives as he grips your thighs, slinging them over his big shoulders. Your eyes widen as his large cock stretches you out; Rafe presses his full weight into you, making your trembling hands reach for his hips.

“So deep, Rafe,” you blubber.

“Too much?” You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head ‘no’. “So damn tight. Mmpfh - Shit. This fucking pussy, princess.” Rafe starts to move, rolling and snapping his hips into you at the perfect pace. His gold chain sways with each movement, Rafe’s eyes rolling back as you catch it between your teeth. Your eyes flutter shut as you toe the line between pleasure and pain, the knot in your belly threatens to break. "Look at that baby… Holy shit,” he chuckles raspily. His large hand rests on your lower stomach; the tip of his big cock making a slight bulge in your tummy.

Rafe drops your thighs from his shoulders, taking a bruising grip on your hips, fucking into you rough and fast, causing the hardware of the bunkbed clatter. You grab his wrists from your hips, dragging them up your body, curling them to your neck, urging him to squeeze. “Thought you were innocent…” He smiles as he tightens his hold even more, making you choke and sputter. Your rapid pulse raps against his palm, the metal of his rings chilling your dewy skin.

"Tighter," you pant. Rafe laughs wickedly, applying further pressure, making your eyes fall closed, breasts bouncing with each thrust. Rafe lifts his hand, slapping your cheek just enough to sting. Your pussy tightens around his cock, you, holding back your release knowing he won’t let you cum ‘til he says so.

"Don’t cum. Don’t fuckin’ do it," he drawls, saying those words aloud. Blessing your ears with the type of shit you only dreamed about when you were pleasing yourself to the thought of him.

"Rafe... I." You stutter as you feel your pleasure about to burn through you. "I can't..."

"Mmm... Not until I tell you. You understand?"

"Please!" You moan. You can't hold back your bliss even if you tried. Your climax claims your body. "Rafe, fuck!" You sob. He continues to rail you, not letting up. You force your eyes open, meeting his stare; Rafe quickly hides his smile.

"What the fuck did I say, y/n?

"I'm so-” He cuts you off with his big fingers pushing through your kiss-swollen lips, landing on your tongue.

“Suck.” Rafe draws his fingers down to your clit, circling them quickly. You feel yourself right back at the edge of ecstasy; your eyes start to fall shut as exhaustion sets in. “Look at me, or I might just stop.” He slows his strokes, hands toiling slower as he threatens to cease altogether, smiling at you darkly.

"What? N-No. Don't fucking stop," you whimper as you stare into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Fuck. You’re too easy to tease, baby. You look so pretty when you’re worked up… When you’re fuckin’ desperate,” he breathes as he picks up the pace again. “That’s gonna be a hard habit to break.” He lowers himself to your lips, his muscular body clapping against you again and again. “You like it though. Don’t you?”

“Y-Yeah. Fuck. I love it.”

“I knew it. M’not gonna tease you anymore, but I want you to be a good girl and cum f’me. Think you can do that?” His mumbles between kisses. "Can you say my name? It sounds so fucking good, y/n... So fucking good."

"Yeah, Rafe. Fuck," you whine. "Are you-" You start, voice cutting short, as pleasure takes complete control.

"Yeah, baby, I am. Fuck. I'm right there." You pull him in tighter, hooking your ankles around his trim waist, praising his name as he worships you. "Y/n... Ugh, shit," he groans, hips pumping one last time, filling you full. He kisses you deeply, breathing heavily with you as tears of pleasure wet your cheeks. “M’not fuckin’ leaving you.”

Rafe wraps the blanket around your shoulder, pulling you in closer, the warmth of his big body presses against yours. Your head falls against his chest, taking in the silence of the night. Everything changed for the better; apologies were said, plans were made for the fall; the rest of the summer ahead of you both. Rafe rests a cigarette between his lips, thumbing his lighter, the flickering of the flame glowing on his beautiful features in the darkness. He takes a drag, casting smoke up into the dim sky.

It’s silent, as it has been for months between you, other than Rafe’s blistering words, but this stillness is different. There’s no stress between the two of you, just you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, making his rosy lips curve into a smile. He rests the cigarette in his mouth, taking another puff before stamping it out, snuggling close, resting his lips on your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the soft material of your cotton cami.

“Rafe,” you chuckle weakly, hearing him mumbling against your warm skin, preparing yourself for another round of ‘I’m sorry’s’ from him, “It’s alright’s’ from you.

“I know I’ve said it a million fuckin’ times tonight, but I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he mutters, his voice raspy and worn from the smoke. You turn your cheek, kissing him, nuzzling in.

“I forgive you. I promise.”

“Can’t believe that… And after that shit, I pulled earlier. What the hell is wrong with you? Huh?” He knocks as he tickles your sides, making you nestle into him more. “I can’t wait for the fall,” he beams. “College life; frat life, and we get to do all that. I mean with you… And me - like us. Together. You and I. We get to do that together, princess,” he fumbles nervously over his words, making you smile even harder at his excitement.

“Together?”

“Mhmm…” He hums. “I mean, you’re mine, to be clear.” He kisses your neck roughly, giving you a playful bite.

“So, I'm your-”

“Girlfriend,” he answers confidently. “You have been for months. Didn't you know?”

A scream pierces through the night, making Rafe jump; his body tightens around you as you watch Zoey stumble into view. Her battered body glowing in the luster of the moon. You’re frozen in place, watching as the horror she was running from steps out from behind a cabin, like something out of a movie. He walks toward her as she struggles on the ground, clawing at the wet earth, doing her best to stand and flee.

The masked man lifts his axe, striking her with a loud thump as the blade connects with her back. Her sickening scream echoes through the camp, causing the lights in the surrounding cabins to flick on. Counselors step out into the twilight, responding with horrified screams of their own, some running, some hiding as you and Rafe watch on, unable to move as the madman continues to swing his axe again and again.

The killer’s head slowly turns, locking eyes with you. He breathes heavily, the chest of his bloodied plaid shirt heaving. Rafe comes too first, pulling himself together enough to yank you to your feet. Before you have time to react, Rafe’s massive truck comes barreling in reverse, plowing down the way from the pogue’s cabin, blaring on the horn. JJ hangs out the driver’s side, weaving around obstacles, closing the gap between you, dodging the masked man narrowly.

“My fuckin’ truck, Maybank?” Rafe’s voice breaks.

“Keys were in the ignition, slick. Get in the fuckin’ truck,” Maybank barks at the two of you. Rafe quickly pulls you down the steps, helping you into the truck as the killer looks around for his next victim. The tailgate’s already open. Rafe helps you inside before slamming it shut behind you, making your stomach fall.

“Get in the truck,” you pant. He looks at you and shakes his head ‘no’ before grabbing your cheeks, kissing you hard and fast.

”I’ll meet you at the main road. M’gonna find Top and Kelce. You’re gonna be okay. Alright? RIGHT?” Rafe barks at the pogues, who assure him quickly that you’ll be fine. JJ smacks his palm against the side of Rafe’s truck, urging the two of you to hurry up.

Rafe runs ahead, steering away from the killer, spriting close to the cabins as JJ peels out. You watch him in the strobe of the headlights closing in on his cabin as JJ takes off, his speed throwing you against the cold metal bed of the truck. You scooch back, gripping the edge of the vehicle tightly as your body jolts forward again. The killer moves in JJ’s path, causing him to swerve and break to avoid running over Zoey’s dead body on the cold ground.

I can't do it.

Fuck. You leap out of the truck without much thought, feet hitting the dirt, unable to leave without him. JJ slams on the breaks, the group of them screaming at you to come back as you stream toward Rafe’s cabin. “Just go! I’ll meet you at the main road!” Your voice cracks with terror as you watch them go back and forth with what to do. “JUST FUCKING GO!” The tires spin fast, spraying the killer with rocks and dirt as the engine roars, quickly speeding away.

The slasher’s soulless eyes peer through the mask, locking with yours, sending chills down your spine. Just run. You look over your shoulder, scrambling the rest of the way to Rafe’s bunk, hearing the murderer’s feet pounding into the ground behind you. You grab the door, tugging it open before slamming it shut, pushing your back against it as you gasp for a breath.

CRACK.

You look to your left, just mere inches from your head, at the slasher's axe sliced through the old wooden door. Your wide, horrified eyes looks back at you in the reflection of the metal, a mess with blood. Rafe rushes at you in a panic, holding your cheeks, kissing your lips between frantic questions. “Why didn’t you just fuckin’ leave? What - What are you doin’, baby? What were you thinkin’? Huh?” He mutters through trembling lips.

“We gotta go, man,” Kelce pleads, his voice strained with the horrors of the night as he holds Topper up, their friend’s blood soaking through his clothes, pooled on the floor below him. You look at Topper’s body, his right arm almost completely gone, cut off at the elbow. So fresh the boys weren’t even able to offer aid. Topper’s breaths are shallow and labored as he fights for consciousness.

“What the fuck was that?” Topper slurs in a haze.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, man. We just gotta get outta here-”

CRASH.

The killer’s axe smashes through the glass, sending shards of the front window flying in every direction, glinting all around. You recoil slightly as Rafe shields you, quickly pulling you to run again. Rafe passes you the keys to Topper’s Jeep before looping his arm around Thornton’s waist, helping Kelce ease him out the back.

You look back in horror, watching as the monster steps through the window, crushing the chips of shattered glass under his old leather boots. You slam the back door shut behind you, unable to lock it, terrified knowing you were just seconds away from seeing him again. The boys quickly help Topper inside as you leap into the driver’s seat, turning it over.

CRASH.

The axe crashes through the back window of Topper’s Jeep. Kelce screams out in pain as the weapon grazes his shoulder, blood and glass showering the back seat. You press the pedal to the floor, tires struggling to gain traction in the uneven grass. The Jeep takes off fast. Your fingers bind tight around the wheel, knuckles turning white.

Rafe shifts in his seat, staring out the back window toward the lake, his blue eyes wide with fear. You look out the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the killer’s silhouette in the moonlight. You swerve slightly, overcorrecting, your reactions heightened; body and mind on edge. You breathe a sigh of relief as Rafe’s hand reaches over, gripping your thigh.

The Jeep plows down the road pushing 80, getting the four of you about a mile away from camp. Not far enough. You swerve out onto the main street, tires screeching. Rafe’s truck lights beam ahead. You slam on the brakes, throwing it in the park, reaching for a breath. “Let me, baby,” Rafe soothes, placing his hand on the wheel over the top of yours, gesturing that he can take control if you need it.

Your tears fall heavily, relief setting in as you run around to the front of the Jeep. Rafe pulls you into his strong arms, breathing heavily with you. “You’re okay. We’re alright. We’re okay. Okay?” He stammers, fighting back his own emotion for you. “We gotta get Top to a hospital. We gotta get outta here-” Rafe looks over his shoulder, down the long dark path back to Camp Salem. You grab his cheeks, turning him back to you before pressing your lips against his, kissing him deeply.

“I love you.”

Rafe pauses, his trembling lips hovering over yours. “Say it again, baby,” he pleads.

“I love you, Rafe.”

“I love you too.”

The End.

⭐tags⭐: tag list on my pinned post (if your name is crossed out, your tag isn't working): @floredaqueen @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @nemesyaaa @theeternaloptimistt @ditzyzombiesblog @cl4uus @aariahnaa @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 dixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @oxpogues4lifexo @babygorewhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @starkeysprincess @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @writtenbyhollywood

[viperbunnies]

"Nothing good ever comes out when I start hoping... but maybe just a little bit."

[Thank you to @.unfinished-projects-galore , @.ai-kan1 and @.stestylius-arts for the assets! Thank you as well to @jovieinramshackle for giving me the inspo to finally start on this, and to @crystallizsch , @angelwishess and @twstgo whose oc intros I took inspo for the layout 🫶]

An outlier from the school, due to his situation he was home-schooled for the majority of his first year. They have decided to accompany the Ramshackle prefect in their daily endeavors, serving as a guide and as a companion in the worn-down dorm.

BASIC INFO.

NAME: Oswald "Oz" Damarys BIRTHNAME: ???? ??????? ALIAS: Oz, Ozzie, Flashlight Fish (Floyd), Monsieur Porcelaine (Rook) Shortie-senpai (Yuudai) AGE: 17 BIRTHDATE: August 26 HEIGHT: 154 cm SPECIES: Half-human half beastmen GENDER: Demi-boy (Uses they/he and masc titles) ORIENTATION: Demisexual ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral MBTI: ISFP Voice claim: Here! (Stc)

LIKES: Stargazy pie, Seafood in general, Acrobatics, Crochet, Art in general, Reading, Fairytales, Music boxes, Classical Music, Card games, Mystery books, Sightseeing, DISLIKES:Wishmaking, Shooting stars, Crowded places, Performing, Being observed, People touching his birthmark, His "Luck", Basketballs

Unique Magic Your Next Line is! [ Flash Forward ] — "An indisputable future is what I see... Your Next Line is!" Oswald is able to take a peek into someone's future as long as they keep contact with his pearly white eye. It can be anything from 5 seconds from now or a day later - This visions manifests like rolls of film - Lately It appears his unique magic is going haywire, showing him visions without the need of eye contact. (They aren't pleasant visions)

TRAITS +  Easy-going; Flexible; Warm; Appreciative =  Tolerant; Perceptive; Witty; Impartial -  Overworker; Indecisive; Reliant; Worrisome

BRIEF OVERVIEW (STC)

Oz is a man of many tricks; he was raised to entertain the audience, which is why he is great at lightening up the mood of the room. The many tricks he can do reminds others of a puppy trained on how to play dead, or shake hands. Despite that, Oz actually struggles in actually expressing the his true feelings— used to being the brunt of many jokes growing up, he believes that he is simply a puppet used for the entertainment of others. He sees himself as a hollow doll with no real personality, only meant for display. He is confused about who his truly is, used to what others want to see and not what he wants to show. Slowly, he is realizing that he is merely human, and that he should live for his own sake. (Old info from my notes)

TIDBITS

Random Facts - Part-beastmen, specifically a rabbit beastmen but he lacks actual features aside for his tail that was cauterized off when he was younger - He doesn't look the part but he also likes getting into shenanigans, sometimes instigating Yuu and Adeuce with the pranks they do (No one really believes the trio when they say it was Oz's idea) - He's double jointed which is helpful with his Acrobatic hobby. - Love language is gift giving, and has a tendency to make crochets for other people. They're typically things that remind them of the other. - Has a lot of birthmarks on his face, but he started to cover them with foundation after Floyd made fun of it. - Has a terrible sense of direction so he gets lost easily, but he'd like to travel around the world someday. - He has terrible luck, and while he doesn't believe in superstitions he began to be wary about them. Doesn't want to get knocked out unconscious by a basketball whenever he passes by the gym. - Doesn't really mind being called Oswald, but he associated that to whenever he'd get scolded... so Oz is his more go to nickname.

TYPING QUIRK: - His friend got him into using Kaomojis, he likes the ones with bunny ears. - Likes sending voice messages to get his point across. - Usually types in sentence cases, (although when he isn't feeling well he types in lower cases) SPEAKING QUIRK: - Uses a lot of onomatopoeia to describe unknown things. - Speaks firmly when he feels strong emotions. - Sometimes bites his tongue when he rambles, or not focused. BEHAVIOURAL QUIRKS: - Nose has a tendency to twitch when he’s interested, or irritated. - He also unconsciously thumps his foot when he’s annoyed.

RELATIONSHIPS (WIP)

(Might put a brief overview on their more notable relationships in the future!) Note: - Main Oc x Canon is with Jamil (ignore that pink on silver and jade) - Divus is his foster parent

PNGS BELOW:

p∀ƎH ⅄W NI פNIH┴ƎWOS SI ƎɹƎH┴

[codtrashsammy]

Soft Ghoap Thoughts

Don't get me wrong, i'm a feral freak for all the dark!Ghoap content, too. ...but like... lil idiot soft boys who know they love you but also know they love each other and don't know how to use Google to properly define anything between y'all Maybe you met Johnny first and you guys just clicked and then somehow Simon showed up, and now you're all just a sweet little trio And it's not even sexual for the longest time- Simon would be far too traumatized to just go for that and Johnny has his whole manwhore persona, so he wouldn't want to risk pushing you away in the slightest. So you just casually have these two big ass military duded in your apartment (a house? In this economy?) that just casually exist with you. Simon cursing while trying to fix that leaky faucet you've had since before you even moved in, while griping and barking at Johnny to hold the flashlight steady and you're just sitting on the counter watching it all in amusement. (Simon: Bloody hell, just HOLD the thing Johnny: 'm tryin' real hard, LT, real hard Simon: You're clearly fucking NOT and really they're only doing it because of your little giggles and quips as you sit over their shoulder watching, such a pretty baby for them, just bein' around them and blessing them with your presence) Johnny with his arms wrapped around you after a bad day at work and Simon just comes over and flops down nearby like a cat who wants attention but isn't willing to ask for it- so they both just hand around and kinda comfort you, but really they just wanna touch you. You, who is so confused because one minute they're griping and bantering with each other and the next you have Johnny leaving little kisses on your cheeks with a dumb grin while Simon just happily interlocks your fingers with his when you're walking back home from the bar. Simon and Johnny both who are as obsessed and in love with each other as they are you but are too scared to put a label to it in case that's what finally scares you off and they'd rather have some of you than none of you at all. Okay, more soft thoughts coming later <3 I love these war gremlins sm

[ericshoney]

Driskill Hotel ~ Sturniolo Triplets, Sam and Colby

Summary: You tag along with your friends, Sam, Colby, Nick, Matt and Chris to the Driskill hotel, only to be a target for the night.

Warnings: swearing, spirits, ghosts, attachments, targeting, scratching, touching, headaches, platonic friendship, platonic nicknames

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's up guys! Today we are at the Driskill hotel." Sam shouted at the camera.

"We have some special guests you've been asking us to collab with for a while now. The Sturniolo triplets!" Colby cheered as the camera panned round to the identical trio.

"But they aren't our only guests, we have one of our regulars, Y/n!" Sam added as the camera turned to you.

You waved as Sam and Colby talked about the hotel. You had been on their channel before and were close friends with the triplets, so when the five males said they were doing a collab together, you had to join.

"We know what Y/n thinks of the paranormal, but what about you guys?" Colby asked the three.

As the guys talked, you looked around, feeling as if you were being watched, but there wasn't anyone. You went to turn back to the guys, when you saw a shadow go past towards the vault.

"Kid, you okay?" Chris called, seeing your distant focus.

"Not to startle anyone, I swear I just saw a shadow go past." You answered.

"No fucking way, already!" Nick exclaimed, making you laugh.

"Yeah, towards the vault." You said.

"You've always seen things early on in investigations." Colby stated.

"Either they like to show themselves, or I have terrible eyesight." You joked.

The six of you then started to explore, listening to the guides tell you about the spirits of the hotel, the history and some encounters they've had. You didn't see anything else for the time you were with the guides, only hearing a few noises, which the others heard too.

When it was time for you to explore without the guides, things started to get weird. You were standing next to Nick as you stood at the stairs where Samantha fell. Sam was asking some questions, when you felt a tug on your t-shirt.

"Nick, fuck off." You mumbled, thinking it was the eldest triplet teasing you.

"I didn't do anything." He responded.

You looked down but didn't see anything. Matt and Chris were further away from you, as well as Colby.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked, seeing your confused expression.

"Something tugged me, I thought it was Nick." You answered.

"Yeah cause I always get the fucking blame." He grumbled, making the others laugh.

"Maybe it's Samantha." Colby suggested.

Just then, one of the flashlights went on, making you all gasp.

"Samantha, if that's you can you touch this flashlight." Sam said, pointing to the light.

It then turned on again, making the guys react. You fell quiet as Matt asked the next question.

"Samantha, was it you who tugged Y/n's t-shirt?" He asked.

The flashlight turned on again, indicating a yes. You smiled a bit, feeling mixed emotions.

"Hi Samantha, I know this might seem scary, but we don't want to upset you. Did you like the sweets we left?" You asked softly. The light turned on again quickly.

"Maybe she's overwhelmed with everything. You have to remember the time period she was from." Colby suggested, just as the light turned on once again.

After a bit, you all decided to explore the area where Carlota was suspected to be. The moment you walked in, it was like someone took all your breath away.

"Fuck." You mumbled, holding your head as you stumbled slightly. Matt who was behind you, quickly grabbed you, holding you up.

"Hey, you okay, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Just went really dizzy." You answered.

"What the fuck!" Chris then exclaimed, making you flinch slightly as he was right behind you.

"What!" Sam exclaimed.

"Where the fuck did you get these scratches?" He called.

Upon hearing this, Sam, Colby and Nick rushed over to you as Chris gently touched the back of your neck. You winced slightly as the boys saw three long scratches down the back of your neck.

"I don't know." You answered, as they inspected the injury.

You all then heard a loud knock in the corner of the room.

"Carlota, is that you?" Colby called.

Another loud knock was heard, making you gasp. Matt kept an arm around you to keep you steady as the others set up the EMF rope. You watched but then started getting sharp pains in your head, causing you to fall to the floor.

"Shit!" Matt grumbled.

"Hey, Y/n, look at me." Matt called.

"Guys, help!" He called for the others.

The other rushed over, Sam leaving the camera to face the opposite wall, the five males surround you to try and support as you kept your eyes tightly shut, groaning in pain.

"Hey Y/n talk to us, what hurts?" Colby called, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Fuck....my....head." You groaned.

"It's gotta be Carlota, maybe she feels threatened?" Sam suggested.

"Carlota if your targeting Y/n, back the fuck up from our girl!" Nick exclaimed.

"No time for jokes, Nick!" Chris scolded.

"I'm not, you dumb fuck." Nick muttered.

"Carlota we order you to leave Y/n alone, you shall not touch her, call out to her or follow her!" Matt shouted.

Suddenly, you fell back. Colby who was behind you, caught you and helped you sit down. Sam rushed to grab you some water to drink as the triplets sat next to you.

"Hey, you feeling okay?" Nick called, as you drank some water.

"Yeah, sorry that was weird." You said.

"Don't be sorry, kid, it's not like you asked for it." Chris responded.

"You want to take a break?" Colby offered.

"If that's okay." You replied.

"Of course and if you don't want to come back in this room, you don't have too." Sam replied.

You nodded as Matt helped you up to your feet. The five of you left the room to take a break, hoping the rest of the night would be calmer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[puhpandas]

Gregory would play the sims 4 and only so he could do that insane shit like removing the ladder from the pool but way worse. he'd sometimes download like the extreme violence mod or the car crash mod or whatever it is and just bring down chaos on whatever world he wants. he'd have every expansion back because he pirated them easily and he'd use the features he gets to do even more insane stuff. hed do like saw games or something where he'd put 8 sims in a maze and see who gets to the middle. or he'd do the squid games or something.

if he wanted to play for real i can see him doing challenges like rags to riches but he plays it to the absolute extreme and will be insane and plan on getting a rich spouse and murdering them for the fortune but he'd play the long game and get away with tons more stuff before finally biting the bullet

Cassie would play the sims 4 and have like. cc backgrounds of either the glamrocks or just cute pastel colors as her cas/loading screen background. she'd have millions of custom content on her laptop and spend 4 hours making a cute girl sim and then go in game and only play for a while. she'd get as far to have a kid with another sim and for that kid to maybe grow up a bit then she'd get bored and repeat. she'd also attempt things like the 100 baby challenge but never get far in it. i think someday she'd create ONE save she'd be absolutely obsessed with and play with it like 394834 generations. her family tree looks crazy. she has every pack only because gregory pirated them for her the same way he did

she also has 100% made her and gregory and her dad in the sims and had them be like a family and gregorys sim is a 'roommate' but. we all know what he is. she'll play with them and make herself find a true love but let gregory find tons of friends and focus on his skills and aspirations. she doesnt do much with her dad but will work on his promotions sometimes and her sims relationship bar with her dads is full. same with gregory

she'd want drama with her teen sims so she'd let them do whatever. and she'd watch so many youtube series that have tons of drama no matter how fabricated by the yotuuber it is. she would be obsessed if the sims 4 had zodiac signs

Evan would play the sims 3 once he actually got a computer (he played the sims freeplay before). he'd never do any challenges but he'd once again have all the expansions bc of gregory. he'd have one save he first made when he got the game and he'd get sooo attatched to the family like he'd care so much about every sim. he'd work hard to max out everyones jobs and skills and when a kid is born he'd double down on having it grow up with proper skills and care and he'd always get secret traits bc of it.

like he'd get so emotional over first dates or weddings or when a new baby is born or is his sim gets a new friend (if he played 4 hed cry over the sentiments). hed cry even harder when one of them dies. he has one save with a huge family tree and never even want another one

he would never even change his sims outfits or appearances at all. he'd believe that how they spawn/age up is how they want to look and wouldnt want to change them. he has absolutely no custom content and doesnt want any. he takes advantage of the gameplay of the packs gregory got him and will have his sims go on vacation or something. he loves seeing all the interactions between sims and will let some of his sims have supernatural babies so he can see the interactions of the occult as they grow up. hes horrified by how gregory plays. he probably has one like 2013 sims 3 letsplay with 300 episodes that has zero editing with every episode being like 45 minutes that he watches all the time and loves

he'd sometimes ask gregory if he would want to make a sim to be his sims friend or someone else in manage worlds to be in another household and gregory would intricately create the perfect match for the sim in question and then go back to killing everybody in his game

if you guys wonder what I think about all day I was thinking about how all of the fnaf kids would play the sims and which games they would be playing today

[13thdoodle]

[ EctoberHaunt 2024 Banner ]

Hi hiii~ I get to draw the banner again for @ectoberhaunt this year~ It was a lot of fun :DD

I wasn't sure how to incorporate the gold and silver at first but I think it turn out pretty good

Also thank you to Enn for helping me with the flats I would've pewished ksjadnaksj Sketches and some ramblings under cut

Here's the initial sketch for the banner. I tried my best to keep it close to the sketch or at least have the same energy (hopefully qwq)

As you can see, I drew Sam and Tucker riding a scooter bike originally. But the banner, I try to get as close to canon design as possible. I could not for the live of me remember what episode has the scooter bike. And.. turns out I might've just misremembered the scooter as a motor bike? so I just draw the scooter lol

(This is from the Killer Garage Sale episode btw. I couldn't find the scooter's pict on the wiki so I gotta screenshot it from the episode)

Also speaking of couldn't find reference pictures in the fandom wiki,

I couldn't find pictures of the college trio full body screenshots there. Only the Vlad leaning into the portal while Maddie and Jack looked away. Very useful references, yes.

I used to think that Jack was the worst one here about lab safety (considering he was the main reason the portal exploded on Vlad's face), but Maddie is no better after watching the episode again. Girlie wear big round earrings and leg warmers in the lab. Pretty sure that's... not very safety. Vlad is not better since he does lean very close into the radiation portal so... lol

Anyway, I tried to incorporate their dynamics in the banner. Jack the very excited one and leading the ghost hunt, Maddie following along with more ghost gears, and Vlad... well, I was thinking Vlad could be the 'rational' of the trio and like brings stuffs the other two wouldn't have thought to bring out of excitement (i.e. flashlights in case they need to go through pitch black tunnel so they don't fall off etc etc)

But... you know, that's giving Vlad too many points than he deserves lol. So, I draw Vlad still bringing the bag of extra stuffs, but it's not fully closed so some stuffs fell off on their trails. They all should share braincells and Vlad does not get a turn lol

Also changed Maddie's clothes and give her the teal suit to match Jack and also looks better when she's running

There's not much I can say about the main trio process? I mostly just want Sam to be the one driving the scooter while Tucker handles the navigations or sth. They get to ride scooters to catch up with Danny~

Danny and Tucker's colors a bit ashy bc I color picked them from low res screenshots askjdnaksj I fixed em on the final tho so yea

O yeah, I don't know if it's visible on the final art, but I initially try to give the kids warm shadings and cold lighting (Silver), and the college trio cold shadows and warm lighting (Gold) to fit the themes.

Also the light source.. sorta? The adults has the light source from behind them bc they are in past/past the age in the drawings? And the kids has their light source from in front of them, going into the future and the many things ahead of them kajsdnaksd

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Drabble #4

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader (This is a Namkook x Reader centric drabble!)

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 3.4k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Prompt; Trouvaille Namkook x Reader, snapshot of a random paranormal investigation (Halloween edition!)

Long time no chat! I hope you all like use this little drabble to help through the Trouvaille hiatus :) We've got some ghostbusting shenanigans in this drabble! I love this trio (and missed them so so much!) There's a slight fright factor for this fall season (spooky setting, jumpscares, grabbing) But fluff and some cheekiness there as well. Chat soon and I love and miss you all! <3

“You’re a filthy liar,” Y/N refused to budge from her passenger side seat, even with the expectant looking hybrid flicking her tights-clad kneecap. “This is not a new dive bar. You can go. I’m staying here.”

“The wolf has already driven all the way into the city, Y/N. Might as well see what we can stir up,” Jeongguk, in a recent attempt to cut back on smoking, stuck a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. Y/N wondered if he truly had an oral fixation. “Come on. You’re always going on and on about ‘spooky vibes’ ‘halloween spirit’ ‘doing seasonal activities’, all that shit. Now that I’m taking you up on that, you’re backing down?”

Y/N bit her lip, cornered and effectively silenced. Sensing her defeat, Jeongguk stepped aside, allowing Y/N to slither from her seat and the warmth of Namjoon’s van. She wasn’t planning to traipse around a weathered and dark graveyard days before Halloween– rather, she was in a skirt, heeled boots, and a delicate off-the-shoulder sweater, meant for slinking around a cozy bar. Immediately, the crispness of October evening air had a shudder rolling down her spine, and the haunted-looking cemetery beyond Jeongguk’s leather-clad shoulder wasn’t helping, either. 

“Look at you, Bambi. You already have the camera bag,” Y/N muttered, somewhat mourning the loss of getting tipsy with him and Namjoon that evening. Despite the nickname, Jeongguk’s antlers were completely absent, only the two vaguest spots of calcification present over the spots where the bones usually sprouted from visible. 

Jeongguk hummed like he hadn’t heard her, double checking the batteries on his flashlight. Y/N, rubbing her arms for warmth, scanned the graveyard. It appeared that they were alone, which Y/N chalked up to people actually celebrating in the new dive bar Y/N was supposed to be at that moment. About to open her mouth to complain, her posture went rigid when a heavy garment, laden with rich scent and crushing warmth, was draped over her caved-in shoulders from behind. 

“The least you could have done was tell her to dress to be outside,” Namjoon spoke to Jeongguk through gritted teeth, watching the girl in front of him nearly dissolve into pieces in response to the jacket he offered her.

 Y/N promptly maneuvered her limbs into Namjoon’s sherpa and denim jacket, not even feeling badly that the wolf hybrid sacrificed it to her as she let his smell and body heat curl around her. No matter how gruff his voice registered to the ear, Namjoon had an undeniable concern for those he cared about. 

“Thanks, Joon,” Namjoon’s jacket was somewhat akin to a safety blanket, drowning Y/N’s figure and making her feel like a cake topper next to the tall wolf hybrid. 

Jeongguk had already wandered off on his own, and it was hard to make him out in the darkness since he was both dressed in all black and he had shed his antlers again. 

“I swear, I wasn’t in on this. Your outfit isn’t warm enough, and obviously being here is making you uncomfortable,” Namjoon lamented, Y/N snorting at his insistence of his innocence. 

“I’ll be fine. Just hold my hand,” Y/N reached for her wolf hybrid, hooking her index and middle fingers around his thumb and shivering at the spark that resulted in the contact.

Namjoon made a noise in the back of his throat. Not moments prior, Y/N clocked the way Namjoon’s ears drooped sideways: he was uneasy, too. Her wolf hybrid was amongst the bravest of her boys, but with the amount of intense horror movies Jeongguk was making her and Namjoon watch that week, Y/N thought his trepidation was quite a natural outcome.

“You suspect I’m going to trip on something, don’t you?” Namjoon grunted resentfully, though he adjusted his grip swiftly so the entirety of Y/N’s hand was completely engulfed by his. 

“Watch your step. If she goes down with you, you’ll fucking crush her,” Jeongguk called back, Namjoon’s chest rumbling deeply– while simultaneously squeezing Y/N’s fingers in a vice. “Wait. You have something to record audio with, right?”

“He thinks it’s amateur hour,” Namjoon seethed, jaw pulsing when he waved his Walkman around for the elk hybrid to see.

 “Jeongguk, this is too much. It’s cold and damp out here, why can’t we just go to the bar?” Y/N complained, attempting to save her evening of dodging shadows and being smothered by her wolfish security detail. “We can come back during the day, when the sun can warm us…”

“I’ve told you, Y/N, your pouting doesn’t work on me. You’ll be glad we did this, you know,” Jeongguk replied promptly, speaking around the toothpick in his mouth. Y/N scowled at him, watching her elk hybrid bend to his knees to set up a tripod by a crumbling monument. 

“What are you even looking for tonight, hmm? The spirit of Sam Adams?” Y/N let Namjoon tug her along with defeat, though her mood brightened when she earned chuckles from both of her hybrids. 

“Yeah, I bet you two would love that,” Even under the darkness of night, Y/N could see Jeongguk’s wide eyes rolling back. She was just putting on a show, standing stiffly beside Namjoon with her lip jutting out in a false pout, but by some Samhain miracle, Jeongguk physically seemed to soften in response. “Give me like, an hour of your time. The bar will still be open after.”

“Oh, really?” Y/N cheered, relieved that Jeongguk wouldn’t be conducting a four hour long investigation. “You promise?”

Letting go of Namjoon so the wolf hybrid could place his recording device on a nearby boulder, Y/N gently smacked her chilly palms against Jeongguk’s cheeks and pressed. The action had his lips puckering, the hoop through his lower lip pressed against her thumb, and his eyes as wide and round as they could possibly get. His tapered ears fluttered and stilled, like caught prey, and without his antlers, Jeongguk looked a lot like his least-favorite nickname. 

“Leggo ‘e,” Jeongguk attempted to talk with his lips still pursed, one of his inked hands wrapping around her wrist once the shock wore off. Grinning, Y/N released the elk hybrid, who inelegantly rocked backwards– ass landing on the heels of his combat boots. “You gotta stop doing that outta nowhere.”

“But you look so cute when I surprise you… so no, I won’t stop,” Y/N stuck her tongue out at him, his camera sitting in his lap, forgotten. “Okay, you’re on the clock. 58 minutes left and I’m out of here.”

Shivering like he was trying to shake off tension, Jeongguk squared his shoulders and resumed adjusting his camera. Fortunately, the dimness of the evening saved Jeongguk from being caught with reddened cheeks. 

“What’s my task tonight?” Y/N straightened up, suddenly paranoid she was standing on a grave. 

“Honestly?” Jeongguk cocked his head, expression turning wry again. 

“God help me. Yes, honestly.”

“You’re kinda here as bait. Since you’re witchy and all these dead guys weren’t really okay with that,” Jeongguk admitted, Y/N’s jaw hanging loose. 

“Oh, spectacular. Did you bring some rope to tie me to a stake and light a match? Maybe you’ll attract the apparition of Cotton Mather!” Y/N growled, pretending to paw through the elk hybrid’s equipment bag for a yard of rope. 

“Jeongguk, this is a new low, even for you,” Namjoon interjected, placing a heavy palm on Y/N’s shoulder– protective alpha wolf tendencies. “I’ll stay with you, Y/N. You can do the audio with me.”

“But…” Jeongguk hummed, Namjoon’s fluffy gray ears twitching in agitation. “If she’s alone, she’ll probably get better results herself. Just sayin’.”

“Unfortunately, he’s right. Whatever. I’ll walk around for a bit and just feel things out, okay? And you are so using your money from the last investigation to buy me a basket of fries at the bar after,” Y/N was able to cut Namjoon off before a spat occurred, hoping her carefully constructed “messy” going out updo wasn’t a pigeon’s nest by then. 

Muttering, she swiped a recording device from Jeongguk’s bag, marching off in no particular direction to avoid Jeongguk’s smug grin– and Namjoon’s raised hackles. The chunky heels of the boots she was wearing were sinking into the mud and grass as she walked, making sure to stick to the main paths winding through the cemetery. 

It was somewhat of a challenge to not be creeped out, Y/N definitely picking up on spiritual energy and the thinning of the veil during Samhain, so entities could more easily communicate with the living. Additionally, the lack of her physically intimidating wolf hybrid posing as a bodyguard glued to her side had her flinching at the slightest of sounds. 

The graveyard was large enough that she couldn’t hear Jeongguk or Namjoon asking their usual investigation questions, which wasn’t comforting, either. Swallowing, Y/N switched her recorder on, slowly passing by a tomb with a weeping stone angel affixed to the top. There was a bench beneath an oak tree, looking over the cemetery, where Y/N decided to pause and take a crack at an interview. With Namjoon’s jacket wrapped around her snugly, she relaxed a tad when she could smell his scent. 

As always, she started with breaking the ice– not by giving out her name, of course– listening to the static coming through the device sitting in her lap. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to interpret any of the audio until she and Namjoon hooked it up to his production program, so really Y/N was having a one-sided conversation in a field full of the unseen dead. All the while, she kept one eye on her watch, finally switching off the recorder after 40 minutes of repetitive questioning. Though the sherpa-lined denim jacket she was loaned kept her top half warm, her nearly bare legs were chilly and she was ready to drag Jeongguk to the van by one of his Bambi ears. 

Oddly enough, beams cutting through fog from two other flashlights were nowhere to be found once Y/N stood from the old bench. Chewing her lip, anxiety began to tighten her chest as she debated whether or not to call out either of their names. On one hand, Jeongguk would be pissed if she interrupted a recording of his, and on the other, Namjoon’s fury would be cold and quiet if he found out she didn’t call for him when she was scared. Neither outcome seemed desirable, and put her in a tight spot. Typical. 

Deciding to just meet her two hybrids at the front gates, close to the van and the well-lit street, Y/N picked up the pace and retraced her steps as best she could. Acutely more aware of her surroundings without knowing exactly where her companions were, Y/N was at least grateful she was up-to-date on all of her spiritual protection, so were the missing hybrids. Even still, there was that eerie sensation of being followed nagging at her. 

Though every instinct in her was begging to break out into a full sprint, when she heard wet gravel squelching behind her Y/N immediately paused; like a rabbit frozen in the face of a predator. Holding her breath, her mind automatically began to loop protective phrases, the only thing audible being the blood rushing in her ears. Was there a rustling in the nearly-bare trees, or were there whispers coming from behind her? Balling up her fists, Y/N geared up to make a purposeful beeline to the gate– which was almost in sight– however, she only made it about two steps before a yelp from her pierced the quiet night sky. 

Wiry, cold fingertips from behind dove into the base of her updo, nimbly grasping the hair stick holding everything together just to yank it free. Two things shocked Y/N the most: first, the weight of her hair falling around her, and the ping of the hair stick clattering to the gravel. All things happening in a matter of nanoseconds, Y/N’s brain processed so slowly that she was defenseless. 

As soon as she yelped and her body began to flinch, two strong arms wrapped tightly around her middle, a large body crooking over hers. Utter horror crashed down over her head, and she was positive she was screaming bloody murder as the grip on her waist got stronger. 

“Boo,” a pair of warm– not ghostly– lips grazed the shell of her ear, and Y/N choked on air, a breeze rolling by bringing a familiar scent along with it. “Gotcha right before you ate shit on the grass, too.”

Jeongguk’s presence wasn’t instantly recognizable because his leather and musk scent was lacking the usual tobacco edge, since he wasn’t smoking as much. The fear that took over was promptly replaced by astonishment and fury, and Y/N began to fight her way out of Jeongguk’s embrace, his deep chuckle in her ear. In retaliation, she scraped her nails over the tattoos clasped over her sides, his forearms actually overlapping on themselves due to squeezing her so hard, making him laugh louder. 

“Let GO, Jeongguk! You scared the piss out of me! Let go!” Y/N’s struggles were futile against the hybrid’s brute strength, so she pretended to go limp so he’d let her go. With a snarl, she realized he was probably giggling at her heart thundering in her chest. “What the fuck? I thought you were a rapist!”

“Do you really think anything could happen to you while we’re here? Please,” Jeongguk scoffed, the sharp point of his nose nudging her earlobe playfully. “Again. Weren’t you the one who encouraged scary pranks this time of year, kiddo?”

“Ugh. Get off,” Y/N groaned, her cheeks flaming. All of her boys had a magical ability to talk her out of being annoyed with them, and they all knew it. “You owe me two drinks now, the basket of Cajun fries, and I get to smush your face whenever I want, no complaints.”

“Sure…” Jeongguk eased himself off of Y/N slowly, ignoring the red scrapes marring the back of his hands. “I’ll add it to the list of your requests, your highness.”

“Fuckin’ little shit,” Y/N grit her teeth, finding it unfairly devastating how insanely hot he looked, cocky and satisfied, his dark eyes somehow still sparkling at night. “We’re going. I wouldn’t blame Namjoon if he left you here, you know.”

“Thinking about it,” a new voice joined the conversation, though it was low to the ground. Casting a look towards her feet, Y/N watched her wolf hybrid bend and gingerly pluck her forgotten hair pick from the gravel. “I take back my earlier statement. This is the new low, Jeongguk.”

Y/N was about to violently nod in agreement as Namjoon stood, towering over her, but something made her eyes narrow as she glanced up at him. Jeongguk, now an onlooker, tried to school his expression when Y/N gave Namjoon a deliberate once-over, the girl even stepping away to get a full view. The elk hybrid had to bite on his fist in order to be successful. 

“Hold it. You said you weren’t in on this!”

“I’m not!” Namjoon’s eyes went wide, Y/N snatching her hair stick from him suspiciously. Blinking rapidly, the wolf hybrid pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, awkwardly shifting the gear bag higher up onto his thick shoulder. 

“Joon. Your left ear is droopy, and your tail is stiff. Besides, you keep fiddling with your glasses and your voice is all high like when you’re nervous in public. You knew he was gonna pop out on me like that,” Y/N listed off, ticking each point on a finger pad. To distract her, Namjoon made a quiet, pitiful canine whine, offering the hair stick to her as a peace offering– but Y/N wasn’t easily bought. “Joonie. You’re sweating.”

“S… so?” Namjoon spluttered, forcing himself to look into Y/N’s eyes. Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon made a last-ditch effort to seem innocent before releasing a ragged sigh. “Aw, come on, sta–”

“March your butt to the driver’s seat before I peel out of here myself,” Y/N cut Namjoon off with (an admittedly adorable) huff, stomping in the direction of the van and not wanting to hear Namjoon’s term of endearment for her while she was still ticked. 

Jeongguk, at that point, couldn’t help but snicker wickedly, brushing past Namjoon in triumph. That, and the sight of Y/N storming away, being nearly eaten alive by Namjoon’s coat, was quite the sight. 

“Do… Do you still want to go to the bar?” Namjoon asked delicately, once he stumbled into his seat in the van, the equipment bag stuffed hastily behind him. The grunt coming from the booth told Y/N Namjoon might have aimed it too close to Jeongguk’s shin. 

“Yes,” Y/N replied haughtily, still feeling the heavy grip Jeongguk had on her. He had been bulking up for the winter… “You guys are mean. I meant to prank each other, not me.”

“That sounds a little unfair, no? Can’t take the heat or something?” 

“You guys are pulling fast ones over me constantly, 12 months a year. Can’t take the heat? Please. I’m a champ,” Y/N accused, sticking her tongue out at Jeongguk in the back seat. He just smirked knowingly, which had Y/N’s mind going in the direction his probably was, eliciting a sharp cough from her throat. “Fine. I guess I should be a good sport, I’m the one who started this.” 

With that, Y/N began to get a little too warm, so she began to unbutton Namjoon’s jacket to strip it from her. Her ears perked up instantly when Namjoon began to growl softly, sending a spark of excitement through her. The mood developing was starkly different than the one that had just dissipated, one wired and charged, and there was no doubt the two hybrids felt it with a certain heightened intensity.

“Keep it on. It’ll be cold at the bar,” Namjoon requested, the gruff authority making her spine straighten out instinctively. However, petulance won. 

“No, there will be a ton of people in there. I don’t want to be hot,” Y/N refused, deciding to ignore the two of them filling the van with their intensity by flicking through her phone. Namjoon didn’t like his protective (possessive?) requests to be denied, and Jeongguk didn’t like to be ignored. Y/N, truthfully, was still aggravated; neither of them apologized for plotting to terrify her. 

The bar was only around the block, so she didn’t ice them out for too long. In the five minutes it took for Namjoon to find a parking spot, she could tell he was feeling remorseful due to the sad thumping of his tail against the car door when he hastily opened it for her, his ears sideways. From that position, she was nearly eye-level with him, and he was brave enough to drink in her expression. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“Make it up to me?”

Namjoon perked up just a degree, looking down at her through his eyelashes. Millions of possibilities flooded through the wolf hybrid’s mind, but conscious of the fact that he was blocking half of a sidewalk, he made a decision. With an arm around her waist, Namjoon helped her out of the van, and before she was too stable on her feet, he pressed his lips to the center of her forehead gently. Y/N hummed lightly, too pleasantly surprised to be embarrassed several pairs of eyes were on her. 

“‘M sorry we scared you,” Namjoon murmured, his chin resting on the crown of her head, body awkwardly bent. Giggling, she ruffled his starlight hair, Jeongguk interrupting by sliding the side door open. “Let’s go in. I’ll buy you the first drink.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be me,” Jeongguk spun on the heel of his combat boot, already at the bar’s entrance. The sound of rock music and jovial conversation pulsed from behind the door. “Yeah. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Okay, okay, I forgive you. Hey, let Namjoon go in first. His height parts crowds, we’ll get to the bar faster,” Y/N yanked Jeongguk back by his belt loop, Namjoon shouldering by with reddened ear tips and his dimples creating deep craters in his cheeks. 

“After yo–”

Y/N stopped holding the door open when Jeongguk placed a hand on the wall beside her face, reached up to boop her nose, and then leaned in to whisper: 

“I’m only sorry I didn’t film your reaction.”

“Oh, you motherfucker!”

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[wheeboo]

tell me that you love me | joshua hong {part two}

SYNOPSIS. in which you and joshua are simply different in more ways than one, yet only seem to find a common ground in struggling to chase your dreams. so why does life keep throwing you two at each other, despite your different worlds, and why does it feel so terrifyingly right? PAIRING. musician!joshua hong x deaf-artist!reader (ft. cafe owner!jeonghan, musician!seokmin, best friend!seungkwan, best friend!wheein, producer!jihoon) GENRE. fluff, slice of life, kdrama romance-esque, mild angst, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn WARNINGS/TAGS. cursing, shua and reader has some self-doubt issues :(, someone makes insensitive comments about reader, mention of alcohol (beer), mention of cigarettes, everyone ships them, kissing, terms of endearment, Softie Domestic Joshua™, it conveniently rains when they're together, this is 85% fluff and 15% plot and the brainrot was giving me an existential crisis, honestly there's not much warnings it's just a love story <3 WORD COUNT (FOR PART TWO). 17k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). 37k

notes: for some reason even tho this whole part is almost as long as the first part it still feels rushed asf lmao. there are a bit of time skips between most sections, and prob a noticeable decline in quality the more u read HAHA. idk what else to say other than i hope you all enjoy and thank you for joining me on this journey <3 your feedback and reblogs mean the world to me !!

part one | part two

The taste of the salty breeze is sharp on your tongue. Sand raids onto your sandals and crawls playfully up to your ankles as you step foot on the expansive beach. 

“Ahh, it’s been a long time since we’ve gone to the beach!” Wheein exclaims proudly while running up to you and locking arms with yours, her hair tied back in two french braids, the carefree grin to her face infectious as ever. “No sad thoughts today. We’re here to have fun, ‘kay?”

She grabs you by the shoulders and eagerly shakes your body before you have the chance to respond. Wheein is right𑁋no sad thoughts today, it is. Seungkwan dashes up from behind as well, carrying with him two plastic bags full of drinks and snacks when the three of you stopped by the convenience store earlier. You carry a large blanket in your grasp as you all make your way to a spot a good distance away from the water. Ah, and you’ve brought your camera along too. 

It turns out that Wheein and Seungkwan had planned a surprise trip to the beach solely to celebrate your art being selected for the museum. But even though that didn’t happen, they still wanted to cheer you up and lift your spirits (meaning, they stood by your front door for nearly half an hour and constantly shone their phone flashlights to get your attention inside, practically dragging you out of bed. You still love them either way). 

The beach isn’t that busy at this time in the late afternoon during a weekday, so finding a quiet spot is easy. You lay out the blanket on a patch of smooth sand, making sure it's free of any debris. Seungkwan sets down the bags of snacks and drinks, and Wheein helps arrange everything neatly.

The water laps calmly up the coast, stretching for miles under the soft glow of the sun. As you settle yourself on the blanket, you catch sight of a trio of seagulls flying peacefully overhead while feeling the warmth of the sand below you and the cool breeze hitting your skin. 

It’s hard not to look at the picturesque scene right before your eyes. A sun, sunrise, or sunset on the beach is something you’ve painted many times before, but you probably wouldn’t tire of it. There’s a variety of colours that the sky contains𑁋from fiery oranges and bright blues to soft pinks and purples𑁋and many people would say it’s the easiest background to capture on a canvas. But you know better. 

Taking a hold of the camera around your neck, you adjust the lens and frame the seemingly endless skies right within the small viewfinder. The shutter clicks a few times as you capture the vibrant hues of the sunset slowly but surely beginning to take its course, freezing a moment of beauty in time. 

After taking a moment to review the photos, you bring the camera back up to your eye again and whip your head around with the intent of taking some candid shots. However, you certainly don’t expect to capture the face of Joshua mid-laugh. He's not looking at you, or the camera, but at Wheein and Seungkwan who seemed to have quickly dropped their belongings in order to greet him. There’s two other boys behind him too𑁋Jeonghan was one of them, the other one you weren’t able to put a name on, but the wide grin on his face was enough to tell you all that you needed to know. All of them are too far for you to be able to read what they’re talking about.

Happiness looks good on them, You think. 

Zooming out just slightly, a singular click is all you need to capture. It’s like everything that you need in a small, rectangular frame𑁋an encapsulation of pure joy. You lower the camera and take a few seconds to admire the candid show, the way the sun casts a golden glow on their faces, and the unguarded expressions of happiness that make the photo more than just perfect. 

Bringing your camera back around your neck, you stand up from the blanket and slowly approach the group. Joshua is the first to notice you come up, as he always is, and his face doesn’t shy away from seemingly brightening up. He’s wearing a plaid button down shirt with a few of its buttons undone, a seashell necklace around his neck, and a pair of black shorts. You also notice his guitar case slinging on his shoulder. 

You muster up a surprised look towards Wheein and Seungkwan about the guests you weren’t aware that were invited𑁋not that you’re complaining at all. 

Wheein waves a hand in front of your face, directing your attention towards her. 

“They’re here to sing!” she tells you, signing animatedly to you.

You lift a brow, letting your hands move in the air as if you’re conducting. “Sing?”

“I thought it would be a fun touch!” Wheein exclaims, then she steps closely right in front of you, seemingly lowering her voice and signing briskly so the others wouldn’t see, “I’m doing you a favour here.” 

“Y/N! This is Seokmin,” Seungkwan gestures to the boy who finally has a name standing right next to Joshua, spelling out the letters of Seokmin’s name with his hands.

Immediately, Seokmin switches whatever he was holding in his right hand𑁋a microphone stand?𑁋to his other hand before extending it out to you for a handshake in perhaps the most humourously, gentlemanly way possible. The goofy grin on his face is enough to make you giggle as you shake his hand firmly. 

“Nice to meet you,” You sign to him, and Seokmin’s eyes light up in awe at the way your hands move. He turns towards the others with a questionable look, and when they tell him what you signed, his grin widens even more. 

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Seokmin exclaims, the enthusiasm bouncing off him. Then he briefly glances between you and Joshua, wiggling his brows and adding, “I’ve been told a lot about you.” 

Glancing over at Joshua, you notice the way he brings his head down to his feet for a moment, but then he lifts himself back up and meets your gaze with a fond smile.

“Okay, you guys can go set your things up. Seungkwan and I will set up the snacks and drinks,” Wheein says. “I say we go in the water after the performance. Who’s in?” 

Right away, the remaining five of you come to a simultaneous agreement. Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Joshua begin to move towards a spot a little further down the beach where they can set up their equipment. Wheein and Seungkwan grab the bags with the food and drinks to set them up near the blanket, leaving you behind to soak in the sight of the beach once more. 

“Right here is good.” Joshua motions to a spot on the ground where Jeonghan sets up the speaker for the microphone. “Did you bring the extension cord?”

Jeonghan pleasantly rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he whips out the extension cord and connects it to the speaker with ease. “You really don’t believe in me, don’t you?” Then he glances past Joshua’s shoulders, smirking faintly to himself. “Target incoming. Six o'clock.”

Joshua turns his body around, wiping away the sand from his hands, and his eyes land straight on you approaching up to him. The corners of his mouth turn upward at the sight of you, dazed eyes lingering on the way you carry yourself quietly toward him. The sunlight catches in your hair, and the backdrop of the ocean makes you appear like a painting that had come to life. He quickly clears his throat.

When you come up to him, you hold out your phone towards him.

Didn’t expect to see you here today

Joshua stifles a half-hearted laugh, plucking the phone from your grasp to type right below your line. 

Is that a bad thing? 

As you read the message, you could only scowl playfully, before taking your phone back.

How did you even know about this anyway?

After scanning your message, Joshua glances around before pointing at something behind you𑁋to Wheein and Seungkwan, who were both dashing away from a wave that was washing onto the shore. 

“Your friends are really adamant about cheering you up,” he remarks teasingly. “I couldn’t just say no.” 

You could visibly see the utter panic in Wheein’s face from afar when Seungkwan nearly stumbles into the wet sand, her hands coming to grab the younger boy’s arm to pull him up. Then their faces shift into a fit of laughter. You really don’t know what you would do without them, honestly. 

“Thank you,” You sign to Joshua when you turn back to him. 

Joshua’s eyes roam over your face with a soft, contemplative expression. Then he motions down to your phone that was in your grasp, and you hand it to him, your fingers briefly brushing against each other.

A thoughtful look spreads across his features, before he types a response on your phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen, and you read his message:

You look beautiful today.

The words on the screen seem to glow brighter than usual, and you feel a rush of affection flood into you like the waves at high tide. Your hand nearly goes limp, almost dropping your phone into the sands below, your heart stuttering in your chest as you regain your composure. For once, even communicating with your hands feels clumsy, inadequate. 

But before you can say anything, a damp hand lands at your shoulder, and you whip your head around to see Wheein standing there, hair dripping wet and chest heaving with exhaustion. 

“If we don’t start, I’m going to kill Seungkwan,” Wheein says while exaggeratedly signing, face scrunched up in annoyance. 

You scratch the back of your neck bashfully before turning off your phone and averting your eyes away from Joshua. You drag Wheein away to help her dry off while the others set up the rest of the equipment. 

By the time everything is set up, there’s a small gathering of curious beachgoers nearby who seem to be drawn by the preparation going on. Some were sitting on blankets spread out on the sand, while others stood in small groups at a respectful distance. 

You find yourself sitting on a blanket with Wheein and Seungkwan right next to you. The two of them were conversing with each other, and all you could do was watch Joshua. He takes out his guitar from the case before sitting on a folded up plastic chair. He runs a hand through his hair and seems to strum a few notes, probably checking the sound levels𑁋Jeonghan sends him a thumbs-up from the side. Seokmin also sits down in a chair right next to him, adjusting the microphone to his mouth and tapping a few times on its head. 

“Hello, everyone!” Joshua announces into the microphone. He’s too far away for you to read his lips properly, but he’s still signing for you, for you to understand even when you’re not directly in front of him. Did he practice all of this beforehand? “Thank you all for stopping by to listen.” 

It’s hard to fully catch what he signs next. He might be nervous, you think, but that’s still endearing in itself. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the beach, as Joshua begins to strum his guitar. Seokmin fixes himself up to the microphone, fingers tapping beats against his thigh. His face shifts into focus, eyes closing to the music taking over that you can feel reverberate through the fresh air. 

Joshua's fingers dance across the strings, then Seokmin's voice joins in. You watch their performance unfold, catching glimpses of their expressions𑁋Joshua's focused yet occasionally glancing your way with a reassuring smile, Seokmin's eyes closed in immersion with the music.

At the corner of your eye, you see Wheein and Seungkwan swaying to the music. When Wheein turns towards you, she reaches down to grab your hand into hers and lifts it up into the air with a grin, swaying your hands together from left to right. She also does the same with Seungkwan, and it’s just the three of you moving your bodies enthusiastically to the music as it swarms throughout the lively atmosphere of the beach. The small gathered audience around seem caught in the moment too. 

When the first song ends, you clap along with the others, feeling the exhilaration of the performance blossom within your chest. Joshua lets his eyes roam around, briefly settling in your gaze for a moment, and the sight of your genuine joy only encourages him even more. He nods to Seokmin, who flashes him a thumbs-up, and then they dive into the next song.

It’s an emotional one this time. You could tell from the pensive looks on everyone's faces𑁋Seungkwan seems like he’s even about to cry𑁋and it only makes you think what they’re singing about. But you don’t let it bother you; instead, you still slowly sway your body, closing your eyes and letting yourself immerse in the moment. 

Grains of sand slip through the cracks of your fingers. The sun has almost fully set at this point, merely just a golden half-circle sinking into the horizon. Water drips down your hair and skin onto the towel below you, goosebumps crawling its way up your arms from the night breeze that was beginning to settle in. You have no idea what time it is right now𑁋the beach is probably going to close soon, you think. 

The others are still wading in the water, except for Jeonghan who might be passed out on another blanket not that far away from you. The events from the past few hours have started to rain down on you, a small yawn leaving you as you use the towel below to dab at your legs. 

However, you feel something encase around you suddenly, and you perk up to the warm feeling of a towel being draped over your shoulders. Looking up, you see Joshua standing right above you, a towel of his own in his hands. He places himself down right next to you as if it was the most natural thing to do, and you let him. You like… being close with him like this. 

Joshua dries off his hair with the towel, and you have to take your gaze away from the fact that his arms are exposed because of the sleeveless black top he was wearing. His hair comes out in a loose mess, wet strands sticking to his forehead. He glances over at you for a second, sending you a brief smile, and again, you avert your eyes away, moving your neck around to ignore the heat creeping up your body. 

You don’t suppress the smile passing over your own face, though.

A light nudge at your side blinks you back to reality, making you turn to see an illuminated phone screen right in front of you.

Tired? 

That was all to make another yawn leave you once again. Joshua just chuckles at the way you angle your face away from the phone screen, trying to hide your weariness. He brings the phone back to type something else before showing it to you. 

Feeling happy though? 

You almost want to scoff at that, but you don’t. It’s hard to not notice the way you feel happy right now. Maybe you’re glowing or something, maybe the pain that you feel in your cheeks is from all the smiles that was plastered on your face throughout the day. Whatever it is, you can’t deny it𑁋yes, you feel happy. 

Joshua sees it too. There was probably no use in asking. The answer blooms on your features, perhaps brighter than the first stars beginning to twinkle above. 

And so, you simply nod. 

When Joshua retrieves his phone back, there’s a subtle shift in his face that was noticeable in the light. His fingers start typing across the screen, but then it stops, starts again, and stops. 

He turns to you, expression turning serious. “Is it okay if I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” 

You huddle more into the towel and meet his gaze with a curious tilt of your head. His eyes flicker between you and his phone. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he hesitantly shows you the screen.

Have you ever wished that you could hear again?

For some reason, Joshua expects for you to be taken aback by the question, maybe even awkward or offended. But, instead, a relaxed look graces your features, a subtle curve at your lips, and you shake your head. Then you take the phone, typing out: 

Not really. When I lost my hearing at 7, I used to cry to sleep knowing I won’t be able to hear my parent’s voices again. But over time, I didn’t let it bother me. It’s a part of who I am. It doesn’t make me any less than anyone else. It doesn’t make the world any less beautiful than it is now. There will always be challenges, like missing out on a joke or an important announcement. But I’ve learned to find beauty in the little things. Like feeling music through vibrations, or how sunlight hits my skin and tells me that the day is beautiful. I could read people’s faces and feel their excitement or their sadness. These are sounds in their own ways. So no, I don’t really wish I could hear again. I’ve found my own way to listen and be heard. 

You even feel out of breath after typing all that out, but you feel lighter. Your heart feels completely vulnerable right now, all the thoughts swirling around you seem easy to catch in another’s hands. But Joshua is gentle with those thoughts, as if he’s placing them back down on the ground for you to navigate them together. You notice a flicker of something akin to awe wash over his features as he quietly reads your words to himself, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows. Then, he starts to type. 

For me, I’ve been surrounded by sound all my life. Voices, instruments, the noise of the city. It’s kind of hard to imagine going through life without it. I’ve learned to grow up analyzing tones, pitches, chords, and notes. And because of that I get afraid of being the one off-key. But I like being quiet with you. And I like talking to you. And I like getting to know you. There’s a part of me that thinks I wouldn’t get tired of looking at you. I don’t know if it’s the silence that helps me focus, but I just know it helps me focus on you. 

You swear you don’t even blink when you read over his words, once, twice, five times over. There’s a tugging at the strings of your heart, a sweet ache spreading through your chest, a sensation much to the pull of the ocean’s tide. When you draw your eyes away from the phone and to Joshua, his gaze meets yours in the middle, a hesitant question lingering painted over his features. 

He brings his hands once more. He points to himself first, then faces his hand towards his chest, putting his thumb and index finger close to his chest with the other fingers extended out. Next, he slowly moves his hand forward, bringing his thumb and index finger closer together. And finally, he points to you, like you’re the last piece of the puzzle.

“I like you.” 

A lump forms in your throat, and that familiar flutter of butterflies takes flight in your stomach, but it’s demanding this time and impossible to ignore. Letting your eyes drift over his face𑁋from his somewhat damp, tousled hair and down to the curve of his lips𑁋you know exactly how you feel.

Without hesitation; without doubt, you kiss him the next moment. It’s a tentative touch at first, making Joshua’s eyes widen in surprise and you pull away with uncertainty. For a second, he could only gaze at you, but then an adoring smile blooms across his face, an admiring sparkle in his pupils. Then he tilts his head just slightly, almost in a teasing manner, and leans back in to capture your lips against his once more. 

Even when your eyes flutter to a close, you still feel his smile against your skin, matching the warmth that spreads through you like strokes of paint on a canvas, like music that fills a silent space. Something comes to cover over your hand on the towel𑁋Joshua’s hand rest over yours, warm and securely, thumb coming to reassuringly rub over the skin there. 

When you pull away, you have the urge to bury yourself in the towel wrapped around you or run away in a fit of panic. You end up doing the former, burying your face further in the soft cotton. But Joshua doesn’t let you completely disappear, a shy chuckle of his own leaving his lips as he reaches out to gingerly tug the towel down just enough to reveal your eyes.

“Hi there,” he says softly, before some worry stretches across his face. “Are you okay?” 

You loosely release yourself a bit more from the towel’s grasp around you and meet his eyes with a small, reassuring smile. 

“I meant what I said,” Joshua continues. His hand still rests on yours while he lifts the other one to sign again, “I like you. I really do.” 

Glancing down at your laced hands, you absentmindedly brush away a few grains of sand that stuck to his knuckles. His skin is warm to the touch, and the intimate gesture makes you take a shallow breath. You lift your gaze back to this, and he follows the way you bring your hand up. 

You stick out your pinky finger, almost like a promise, and extend out your thumb as well, before moving your hand back and forth to sign,

“Me too.” You continue to run the tips of your fingers over his hand. I like you too.

“Did Seokmin tell you about Jihoon?”

Joshua sprays a bottle of disinfectant on a table before grabbing the rag that was hanging loosely on his shoulder. “Who?”

“The producer guy.”

The smell of the chemicals sends an unpleasant crinkle to Joshua’s nose. He pauses his cleaning for a moment. “Haven’t heard of him.”

“Well, he’s a producer apparently. A fairly new one. I think Seokmin mentioned that he went to high school and university with him𑁋wasn’t entirely close to him, though. Just a name that was sort of tossed around.” Jeonghan stops to take a loud bite out of a bag of chips. “But I’ve heard he’s got a studio opened now somewhere. So maybe…”

Joshua lightly chuckles. “You know I’ve gotten scammed from this type of stuff, right?”

“I’ve done my research.” Jeonghan promptly sits up in the chair (yes, he’s not helping with cleaning at all). “No heinous crimes have been committed. If anything, the only thing I could find on him is𑁋”

“Yo, Jeonghan! Where do you want this box of shit?” 

Jeonghan turns somewhat annoyedly towards the source of the voice: this guy named Wonsik that he had hired recently since having Joshua as the only other worker around was proving to be insufficient. Joshua can’t say he’s exactly a fan of him though. His attitude is a bit… brash, to say the least. 

“Just leave it in the storage room,” Jeonghan says, pointing in the direction with a chip in his hand. 

After wiping off the final corner of the table, Joshua feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. As he takes it out and catches a glimpse of the notification, he can’t help but smile to himself.

Joshua takes off the apron he’s been wearing, neatly hanging it up on a hook by the door that was designated for staff.

Jeonghan catches him mid-chew. “Curfew time?” 

“Yep.”

“Gross,” Jeonghan mumbles sarcastically while crumpling up his bag of chips. “You know, just because you’re in a relationship now doesn’t mean you get to slack off on closing duties.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully. “Whatever, I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

Wonsik emerges from the storage room, catching Joshua’s attention with his loud, assertive footsteps and nearly running into him, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him. He mumbles something about finally finishing taking in all the boxes, carrying the last one labeled with supplies, his expression a mix of boredom and disdain as he spots Joshua preparing to leave.

“Finally taking off, huh?" Wonsik sneers, eyeing Joshua up and down. “Off to be the hero for your little deaf partner?”

Whatever politeness Joshua had to his features had faded away in an instant, his jaw clenching tightly to the words. He adjusts the strap of his guitar case on his shoulder and meets Wonsik's arrogant gaze evenly.

“Watch your mouth,” Joshua says sharply, a warning edge to his voice that cuts through the room like a knife. 

“What? I’m just saying it must be hard to deal with them, that’s all. Like how do you even communicate? Doing your little hand stuff? Must be an ass to handle all that shit.” 

Joshua's nostrils flare at that, sensing his patience wearing thin at Wonsik's blatant insensitivity. His fists clench at his side momentarily, but he keeps in his anger, knowing that losing his cool most definitely won't help the situation at all. Taking a deep breath, he meets Wonsik's eyes with a steely glare.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Joshua replies firmly. “Don’t you have some human decency and respect in you?” 

Wonsik just scoffs haughtily. That dumb, conceited smirk on his face widens even more as he leans casually against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. "Hey, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. It's not like I'm wrong, right? You could do so much better, man. You’re just pitying them because you feel bad.”

Just at that, his words strike a nerve in Joshua. “Y/N is more than capable of handling themself. They don’t need anyone else’s pity, least of all mine. So why don’t you mind your own business? Learn some respect while you’re at it, asshole.”

Wonsik shoots Joshua a final contemptuous glance before turning on his heel, shoving past Joshua, and disappearing back into the storage room, muttering something under his breath that Joshua isn’t bothered to decipher. 

Heading back into the main area of the café, Joshua stops right before the door to turn towards Jeonghan. “Do me a favour and𑁋”

“Don’t worry,” Jeonghan interjects, waving him off dismissively. “He won’t come back tomorrow.”

Joshua’s shoulders visibly relax at that. “Thanks,” And when his hand lands on the door handle, he stops again. “I’ll do that thing, by the way.”

“That thing?”

“Mhm.” Joshua just nods. “I’ll ask Seokmin about Jihoon.”

Joshua hums quietly after every pluck of his guitar string, twisting the tuning pegs at the head of the guitar with every note deemed off-key. The sounds leaving his guitar bounce off the walls of your apartment and blend with the smell of leftover ramen that lingers in the room. 

You sit across from him with two steaming cups of tea in your hand, carefully placing them on the coffee table in front of him. He glances up from tuning his guitar, eyes softening as they meet yours. Resting the guitar against the arm of the couch, he gratefully takes the mug that was waiting for him on the table, taking a quick sip of the jasmine tea you had prepared.

You peer at him worriedly, forming a claw shape with your hand and moving it downward to sign, “Hot?”

Joshua shakes his head, sipping once more and setting it back on the table. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you reassuringly. 

Placing the guitar back on his lap, he positions his arms comfortably over it as if preparing to play something. Yet he catches the way your eyes watch his fingers glide over the strings. Joshua fixes his posture and presses his back against the couch behind. 

“Do you want to try?” he asks. His fingers rest lightly on the strings, demonstrating a chord before letting them hover, waiting for your response.

The hesitation within you is shunned aside from the subtle hope of his invitation. Warily, you shift closer to him, settling between his legs as he positions the guitar in your grasp. His hands cover over yours, guiding your fingers over the frets and showing you how to press down on the strings. The wood of the guitar is smooth under your touch, vibrating weakly as you pluck the strings a few times tentatively.

His breath fans over your skin as he leans closer to help adjust your grip on the guitar neck. You have to turn your head in order to see if he’s saying anything to you. His face is so close to yours now that you can see the fine details in his expression. There’s a slight tiredness in there too, but you don’t comment about it. 

Joshua's fingers move dexterously as he shows you another chord. This time, you press down with more confidence, and the sound resonates more clearly. He watches your face light up, and you can feel the vibrations of the strings through your fingertips. It’s a bit ticklish and you can’t help but giggle softly at the sensation. His hands still hover over yours for a few moments, but then he pulls back to give you a bit more space.

The chords you're playing aren't perfect𑁋they come out off-pitch and you aren’t able to tell, or the strumming patterns are a bit uneven𑁋but Joshua doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the mistakes. 

After some time, you cautiously set the guitar on the floor, letting it lean back against the couch. By the time you finish taking another sip of your tea, Joshua is already holding out his phone to you.

If I wanted to get your attention without accidentally scaring you, how could I do that?

A feeling of déjà vu slithers down your body at the question, and you could tell Joshua feels it too. Briefly, you think about the first time the two of you met. It’s quite surreal how far you’ve come already. 

You grab his phone to type:

I wouldn’t worry about scaring me like before, since I know that it’s you. I’m familiar with you. A small tap on the shoulder is okay, or you can flash your phone light. Wheein and Seungkwan do that to get my attention if they’re outside the door

Joshua reads your response, then shoots an understanding look, a thoughtful curve to his lips. The next thing that you catch is a yawn leaving him, which he tries to cover up with a sheepish smile.

“Tired?” You sign to him. 

“A little bit,” he replies meekly. “Just some things on my mind.” 

You tilt your head slightly, curiosity piqued at that. 

Joshua practically melts into the couch, the exhaustion in his posture evident as he stretches out his legs and lets out a soft sigh. 

“Work has been picking up a bit, people are ridiculous sometimes,” he starts, a twinge of frustration to his features. “I haven’t been able to go busking recently either, but… I think an opportunity came up. For music.”

Your eyes widen with interest, and you lean forward slightly, encouraging him to continue.

But he only hesitates. “I just don’t know if it’s worth pursuing. There are so many people out there who make big promises, but not all of them deliver. I don’t want to get involved in something that could turn out to be another dead end.”

A frown crosses its way across your lips. You can sense his apprehension and understand the reason behind it, but you also recognise the glimmer of hope in his eyes. Slipping out your own phone, you type:

You should go with what your heart is telling you to do. I’ll be there to support you either way :)

Your words drip of care and affection, feeling the uncertainty in his heart soften when he pinpoints the sincerity in your eyes. For a brief second, his gaze flickers down to your mouth before returning back up to your gaze. Without another word, he leans in, letting his lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. 

Even in the few weeks the two of you have been together, moments like these will take some time to get used to. It’s both intimidating and exhilarating, comforting and thrilling all in one. But it’s undeniable that it feels… right, natural. 

As cheesy as it sounds, that is what his heart told him to do at that moment𑁋to kiss you as a way to say thank you. A shy, boyish grin tugs at the corners of Joshua’s mouth when he pulls away. He takes a visible deep breath, as if drawing strength from your closeness, attentive eyes roaming over your face for any discomfort, but he finds none. The tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire, if anything. 

“Cute.” He lightly taps the bud of your nose, causing you to scrunch up your face in response. “Thank you. I mean it.” 

You only smile and nod under his gaze, signing with a simple, “I know.”

You lose track of time in front of the canvas when a yawn of your own leaves your mouth. Admittedly, it’s been hard motivating yourself to paint lately ever since your rejection at the exhibition, but somehow this time around, the colours on the canvas look more… livelier. 

You glance between the unfinished canvas and to the candid picture that you took that day at the beach of your friends’ smiling faces. If this is how you’re going to encourage yourself to get back into painting, then so be it: painting a moment that you could simply define as happiness. 

When another yawn leaves you, you swirl your paintbrush in a murky cup of water to clean it off before setting it aside. You stand from the chair and stretch, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sitting in one position for too long. When you shift your gaze behind you, the sight that appears before you sends a leap of surprise through you.

Your eyes land on a sleeping Joshua, whose head rests against the arm of the couch, relaxed body slumped against the cushions, and one of his arms dangling off the edge. Tiptoeing over to him, you grab a blanket that Wheein had crocheted for your birthday from a nearby armchair and drape it over him. He shifts slightly at the movement but doesn’t wake, instead settling more deeply into the couch with a soft, contented sigh. 

You don’t have it in to wake him up, because this feels right𑁋him at your place, falling asleep, and a sense of peace floating through the air. 

If Seokmin didn’t come along, Joshua would probably have turned around on his heels by now and declined the offer. 

Apparently Jihoon’s studio was located in a somewhat sketchy part of the city, and it took only one tumultuous month later to finally set a date to meet up. Joshua glances around the area, taking in a few worn-down buildings and graffiti-covered walls, wondering if this is really the right place.

“This place better not be a dump,” Seokmin mutters under his breath, scanning around nervously. “I swear, Jihoon has always been a bit of a mystery, but he’s got talent for sure. He was practically the maestro of the entire music program back then.”

“And you reunited with him… how?”

“At the gym,” Seokmin answers, but it’s more under his breath as if he was a bit embarrassed by it. The sly laugh that leaves Joshua makes him jut out his bottom lip. “I wanted to know his workout routine! I didn’t even recognise him after all these years.”

Joshua just rolls his eyes, the lighthearted banter lessening some of his nerves. 

It would be his first time to walk into an actual studio. Somehow, Jihoon’s place was a good size to accommodate a variety of sound equipment and a living space at the same time. Compared to the gritty exterior, the inside certainly had more of a calming ambience. Neon lighting illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the sleek equipment and musical instruments. Records lined the shelves and posters of artists decorated the walls, all bringing more character to the place. 

Jihoon himself was the epitome of calm and collected, bringing an aura of meticulous confidence that caressed every inch of the studio. He’s been working independently this entire time, and according to Seokmin, he's been steadily putting a name for himself in the underground music scene right after graduating from university. 

“So,” Jihoon starts, spinning around in the chair he was sitting on. Even when he was wearing a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tee, he still appeared effortlessly cool. “you’re a singer?” 

Joshua looks down at himself for a moment as if questioning his own presence here, fingertips gliding steadily over the strings of his guitar. “Yeah. Been busking for the past year or so. Played guitar for my entire life. I’ve written some of my own songs, too.”

Surprisingly, this is enough to convince Jihoon. “Alright, then. Show me what you got.” 

In its entirety, it was a surreal experience, and there’s just this inkling, this pinch of hope in the space between the tips of Joshua’s fingers whispering to him that he’s finally on the path to accomplishing his dreams. He’s never heard the sound of his voice so clearly before. Unlike the studio, there are no walls surrounding him when he busks𑁋only the open air, the street sounds blending with his music. But in the studio, the environment is different. 

It’s as if his music is finally being given the space it deserves to breathe and thrive, just like he had always wanted for it to do. 

The excitement is even evident in the way he’s gripping your hand as the two of you are walking back to your place together later that same night. Walking together has always been routine between the two of you, yet now there’s a certain lightness in the air knowing you both share the same love for these moments together. 

Joshua feels the way you squeeze his hand, and when he looks at you, you’re holding out your phone for him to read.

So are you planning on seeing him again next week?

A contemplative look crosses his face, but it doesn’t take long for the corners of his lips to curve up. 

“I think so,” he answers, eyes lighting up with optimism. “I think I might be getting to where I want to be, you know?” 

The excitement that trickles down his body flows through your interlaced hands, and you find yourself smiling alongside him. You love knowing you get to be a witness of this pivotal moment for him. You love seeing him happy just as much as you love being happy around him. 

When you reach the entrance of your apartment building, your hand still hasn’t left his. Joshua gazes past your shoulder towards the door, and then back to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks, a teasing tilt to his head. “Even for just an hour?” 

You wiggle your eyebrows at him, only giving him a simple shake of your head. 

“Hm, am I that much of a distraction?” he muses, stepping just a tad bit more closer to you, and you know you’re digging yourself more into the ground at this point. “I love watching you paint though.” 

You attempt to power through the way his words send a jolt through you, stubbornly standing your ground with the most serious expression you could muster. It’s not that you don’t want him to stay with you a little longer𑁋because you might quite possibly set everything aside for him without a doubt𑁋but you’ve made it a goal to get back into painting on your own terms and slowly but surely regain your confidence. 

After putting on a small pout, Joshua’s gaze just softens. “Promise me you won’t stay up late?” 

You nod, feeling the warmth of his concern and signing, “Promise.”

He still doesn’t let go of your hand, his thumb coming to caress tenderly over your knuckles. Joshua’s eyes flicker to your lips, and he leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you don’t. Then he leans in and pauses once more, nose briefly brushing against yours, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Goodnight,” he signs when he pulls away, running a hand down your arm before reluctantly stepping back.

You could never get over the satisfying wave of relief that hits you whenever you complete a painting. 

The first time you finished a painting was when you were eight years old. It was a simple watercolour painting of your family house, distinctively placed on a large hill instead of being surrounded by your neighbouring homes. Your mother had stuck it on the refrigerator for as long as you could remember alongside other family photos until it got too worn out from being taken down and put back up so many times, even being forgotten at some points when other mementos covered it. The fridge seemed so empty without it.

Seeing that painting every day reminded you of the joy of creating something with your own hands𑁋filling a space with something beautiful and meaningful, just like you had envisioned it in your mind. It’s not just about copying the photograph you used as reference; it’s about translating those fleeting, joyful moments into something real. You want people to look at your painting and feel the same happiness, the same warmth that you felt in that moment. It’s about capturing a moment in time and making it last forever. This is what art means to you. 

“This is stunning, Y/N!” Wheein exclaims when you stand right next to her. “You made the sand look so real! And you used such a gorgeous gradient for the sky. You gotta give me some tips later! Have you thought about showing this to your teacher?”

You frown a little at that. You haven’t exactly been putting in the effort to show up at all. The sting of that rejection at the exhibition still lingers, making you hesitate to put yourself out there again. You’d rather put on a show for yourself before determining whether or not it’s worth sharing with others. 

“I don’t know,” You answer.

“That’s okay!” Wheein says brightly. “But whenever you’re ready, let me know. We can make a killer portfolio together.”

You let out a laugh at that, mentally taking note of her offer for the future. Wheein just nudges you lightly on the hip with her own.

“You seem so much happier lately,” she acknowledges teasingly, a sly smirk crossing her face. “probably because of a certain someone…”

You feel a light flush creeping up your cheeks, and you glance away with a smile that you can’t quite hide. It hasn’t even been that long since you and Joshua have been together. Yet even though you can call him your boyfriend, he still gives you the space to grow, to dream, and to be yourself, just as you do with him. And in those times you two are together, reveling in the quiet language of your hands, letting your guard down has never felt this easy. You could share a simple smile with each other and the world seems a little brighter, a little more colourful, and a little more hopeful and meaningful. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re smitten!” Wheein exclaims amusedly. “If that’s not love in your eyes, I don’t know what is.” 

Love. What a silly, little word𑁋so small, yet carries so much in between its letters. 

You just chuckle to yourself, savouring the way the word swirls around you.

[07:15 PM | y/n] are you nearing the place? I’m waiting by the front 

You turn your phone off and bring it down, searching around for any sight of Joshua. Passerbys fill up your field of vision, all of them rushing past or casually walking by with their own different lives, but you don’t see him among the crowd. You check the time again, noting that he’s already fifteen minutes late, but you remind yourself that he’s been at Jihoon’s studio for the majority of the day and has probably been busy. 

As you continue waiting, the slight chill of the evening air runs through your bones. It’s getting noticeably colder outside as winter is approaching closer and closer. You glance at your phone again, but the screen remains dark. Another ten minutes pass, and you could feel the worry creeping up your spine. It’s not like him to be this late without a reason.

The vibrant evening around you slowly begins to lose its charm, the excitement within you boiling down into a pit of disappointment, and the thought of standing alone any longer becomes unbearable. So, with a heavy sigh, you decide to walk away, pushing away the disappointment with every step that you take.

[07:28 PM | y/n] I’ll be heading home. let me know when you’re finished at jihoon’s 

You slip your phone into your pocket, feeling a twinge of sadness as you start walking towards the nearest crosswalk. Above you, the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement below and swallow the lively colours of the evening. 

Approaching the crosswalk, the signal light shines a deep red, instructing you to stop and wait. A crowd of people all stop behind you as you wait for the light to change, and you become acutely aware of their presence surrounding you. 

Your eyes wander across the street, where the traffic light turns red, and cars begin to slow down. Anticipating for the light to signal for you to cross, a sudden flash catches your attention from across the street. It looks like a flashlight, and it was flickering in a deliberate pattern.

The moment the signal light turns green, the flashing stops, unraveling Joshua standing on the other side. People brush past you in order to cross the street, yet you can only find yourself frozen. There’s a flash of urgency you catch to Joshua’s features, and your focus narrows on him as he dashes across the street toward you. 

He’s breathless the second he reaches you, and his face is flushed with relief and desperation. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologises, signing frantically to you. “I lost track of time. I tried getting on the bus to get here faster but the traffic was bad. I…” His shoulders sink in dismay. “I’m sorry.”

You just shake your head dismissively, but it’s not hard to miss the subtle hurt in your face and the way you sign back to him. “It’s okay. I know your music is important to you.”

“You’re my top priority,” Joshua says quickly, eyes intense with sincerity. “Let me make it up to you, okay?” 

His words send a flutter that makes your heart ache in your chest. Joshua reaches down and takes ahold of your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You feel a warmth spread through you as he intertwines your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner back at my place?” Joshua offers, his lips curling up in a hopeful smile. “Jeonghan is staying at a friend’s place tonight, so it’ll just be us.” 

You look up at Joshua, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with him. 

“Okay,” You sign to him. 

It’s been years since the last time you saw a record player. Your parents used to have one in the corner of the living room. It was a vintage piece, and you remember how your father used to meticulously handle the vinyl records, placing them carefully on the turntable before lowering the needle. You didn’t hear the music that came from it𑁋the music that they played before you lost your hearing was vague to memory𑁋but you loved watching the way the needle danced across the grooves of the records.

Joshua has an entire vinyl collection, and you look through each one curiously. You see names like Amy Winehouse, Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Elton John, Frank Sinatra, Nirvana, The Beatles, and even some contemporary artists like Billie Eilish, Boys Like Girls, and Lana Del Rey. The covers of each one are like pieces of art themselves, with their vintage charm and intricate designs. 

When Joshua turns away from the stove, he looks at you, where you’re already peering at him.

“Do you want to play something?” You sign to him, thinking that he might want to listen to something while you’re here together. 

Joshua’s eyes only soften as he takes in your question. “You don’t have to play anything.”

You smile bashfully. “I want to.” 

He feels a tug at his heart at the pleading expression to your face. He briefly checks the food cooking on the stove before walking to where you’re sitting on the floor, his vinyls scattered in front of you. 

“Okay,” he tells you. “Pick whichever one you want.” 

Joshua watches as you carefully pick a vinyl𑁋you end up picking The Beatles, a classic𑁋and with practiced hands, he helps you place the record on the turntable and lowers the needle. You watch as the record starts to spin and the needle settles within the grooves.

You turn toward Joshua, signing, “Is it playing?” 

The sound that comes off the record player is a bit distorted at first, but after some time, it manages to smooth out. Joshua just nods, his face lighting up with a smile at the way you appear so engrossed by the spinning record. 

Dinner comes by in a jiffy. The singular kitchen light hangs above the small table that you both are sitting at, the aroma of Joshua’s cooking wafting through the air. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but the simplicity of the meal𑁋steamed vegetables, grilled chicken, and fluffy rice𑁋makes it all the more comforting. You definitely would have preferred this over restaurant food. 

You eat slowly, savouring the flavours of each bite. You can feel Joshua's eyes on you, and you can't help but smile.

“Good?” he asks. 

You give a few enthusiastic nods, and the sight lights up Joshua’s face even further. 

The record player was still faintly playing music in the background, yet the quietness that he gets to share with you is what he cherishes the most. It’s not awkward or forced; it’s a comfortable silence that pleasantly wraps around you both. The occasional pop or crackle from the record player blends in with the sounds of your contented chewing and the soft clinking of utensils.

Afterwards, you find yourself settling on the couch in Joshua’s living room as you wait for him to come back to the bathroom, and you take the time to peer around his space.

You already know that he’s living with Jeonghan too, so you love how you’re able to easily distinguish the small snippets that belong to Joshua. Apart from the collection of vinyl records, you also see a few microphone stands and a keyboard set up in one corner, as well as an empty guitar stand where you know his guitar belongs. 

Letting your eyes drift, the coffee table in front of you catches your attention. There’s a couple of coasters, the remote for the TV, a cute succulent in the middle. But then your eyes land on something else. 

On it, you spot a book laying flat on the table. Curiosity piqued, you reach over to examine it. The book is a sign language dictionary. You open it to find that it’s filled with detailed illustrations of hand signs, and throughout the pages you see Joshua’s handwriting scattered throughout. Some of the pages are marked with sticky notes, others you spot silly doodles of smiley faces in the corners. 

You hardly ever thought about the amount of effort he put into learning how to talk to you, to understand you. A small part of you feels bad that he has to go through all this trouble to learn sign language. But then you remember that he chose to do this, that this was his decision, not yours.

The spot on the couch right next to you dips down slightly as Joshua sits down. He glances at the sign language dictionary in your hands and glances at you with a soft, curious look, and it makes you look away sheepishly.

Dropping the book in your lap, you fumble for your phone, typing out:

You did all of this for me?

When Joshua reads the message, a small chuckle leaves him. 

“I wanted to get to know you better,” he tells you, your eyes flickering between his hands and his lips. “I don’t regret it at all.” 

As his words wash over you, you feel your fingers struggle to put together how much this is affecting you. You type after a few thoughtful moments. 

It must have been hard. I’m sorry

Joshua only shakes his head. “It was worth it. I promise.” He pauses for a moment, gears turning in his head. “Do you want to know the first word I wanted to learn?” 

You watch as he picks up his right hand, opening it up so that his fingers pointed up and his thumb toward his cheek. Then he fans his fingers across his face, and closes his hand in a relaxed fist to sign the word beautiful. 

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes, his fingers gracefully forming the sign again. “I happened to have thought that the first second you walked into the café.”

You could only stare at him incredulously. Even though it isn’t the first time he’s expressed this kind of affection in your few months of being together, it still takes you by surprise, still sends those surges of flutters shooting down your limbs, still makes your mind go blank and your hands go limp.

Cowering behind a hand of your own, you motion a shy finger at him, before rolling your hand over your face, then forming a Y-shape with your hand, and shaking it slightly.

“You’re beautiful, too.” 

Joshua purses his lip together at that, suppressing the giddiness threatening to stretch across his features.

“Well,” he starts, cocking his head to the side endearingly. He won’t ever get over how adorable you are when you’re flustered. “I say we compliment each other quite well then.”

From there, the two of you let out some shared, heartfelt laughter, and it sounds like absolute music to Joshua’s ears. He shows you the pages he’s gone through in the book𑁋from the alphabet and grammar, to basic common phrases, and to more, nuanced, complex sentences𑁋and it looks like he’s more than halfway done with reading and annotating through it. He eagerly points out the words and phrases he's already mastered, and the ones he's still struggling with. It's cute seeing the little doodles and notes he's written in the margins.

When he places the book back on the table and turns to you, a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“I can teach you,” You sign to him, a willing passion in your hands. 

Joshua lifts a brow, copying your movement. “Teach me?” 

When you nod, his face morphs into a pensive look. After a few moments, he brightens back up.

“How about the seasons?” he suggests. “We can start with those.”

You begin with spring. Your hands move as if they’re opening up to new life, the gesture mimicking the blossoming of flowers. Joshua watches intently, his eyes following your movements carefully, before mimicking the motion a few times. 

Next, you move on to summer. You form a fist with your palms down at your forehead, before taking your index finger and drawing it across your brow a few times, almost as if you’re wiping away a drip of sweat. 

For autumn, you use your hands to mimic falling leaves from a tree off your non-dominant elbow, making a gentle fluttering motion. 

Finally, you teach him winter. You simply make a shivering motion, as if you’re cold, and Joshua chuckles as he imitates the sign. You watch in awe as he successfully goes through the signs a few times without a hitch. Giving him a few rounds of claps, he gives a shy, pleased smile, clearly proud of his progress.

“I hope we…” Joshua starts, some unsureness flowing through his hands, but he signs the seasons so easily (unbeknownst to you, he already knew them). “...we get to see spring, summer, autumn, and winter together.” 

Perhaps he could feel the way your heart swells in his hands, because he’s cradling it so preciously as he speaks, and he looks at you with such hopeful eyes.

You want to spend every single season with him. 

Later that night, you find yourself standing in front of the sink in Joshua’s kitchen, washing the dishes because you lost him to a game of rock-paper-scissors. 

As you’re rinsing off the final dish, a light tap lands on your shoulder, making you wince for a second before quickly relaxing. A pair of arms then sneaks around your waist, pulling you close and causing you to nearly lose your grip on the plate. 

Joshua gently rests his chin on your shoulder from behind. His breath hits your neck as he wraps his arms around you. He stays like this for a few moments, simply savouring the closeness of your presence against him. Then, with a mischievous smile that you don't see, he brings a finger up and slowly begins to trace your back lightly with the tip, almost like a whisper against your skin.

I…

Curious and slightly ticklish, you crane your neck slightly to look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your face up as you try to focus on deciphering what he’s trying to write.

… l… o… v… e…

Joshua pauses momentarily, sneaking a glance at the way you’re standing so still in his hold, before tracing the final letters.

…y… o… u.

Eyes widening, you shift around in order to face him, and Joshua rests his arms on either side of you, hands gripping onto the counter behind and practically enclosing you in. 

He leans in, and the world seems to narrow altogether. His half-lidded eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, as if asking for permission, and you could only anticipate what’s coming next as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Chuckling softly, Joshua inches even closer to you, and you feel his nose lightly brush against yours. But instead of pressing his lips against yours, he first kisses your forehead softly, making you shoot your eyes open in a bit of a confused daze. 

But before you can fully process everything, he’s leaning in once again, and this time, his lips gently meet against the tip of your nose. You crinkle it back as a pout runs across your mouth, and Joshua’s grin widens even more. 

“What’s with the face?” he teases, feigning a hurt look. “Is it because I haven’t kissed you properly yet?” 

You answer with him a shy, petty tug at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Give me a smile then,” Joshua insists impishly. “Please?”

Just from that alone, a shy curve sprouts at your lips, and Joshua just watches with a satisfied look. 

“Hmm,” he hums skeptically, but is leaning in closer anyway. “I’ll take it.” 

Then he finally kisses you, mouth moving with an ardent sweetness against yours that renders you breathless. He playfully chases after you as you manage to escape out of his grasp. But he’s quick to catch up to you anyway, the sounds of your giggles mingling with the soft crackling of the record player as you both collapse on top of the couch. 

You tentatively trace I love you on his back when you’re both settled on the couch together, legs intertwined and your head perched at the crook of his neck. He’s asleep, you consider𑁋you can tell by the way you feel his chest rising and falling against yours. 

Yet after you write those words, a shaky, relieved exhale leaves him that you don’t hear.

“All you have to do,” Jihoon starts, offering a seemingly heavyweight set of headphones in his other hand towards Joshua. “is press play right here, and tell me what you think.”

Joshua takes hold of the headphones as Jihoon scoots a bit of his chair away to give him some room. He places it carefully over his ears, feeling the soft cushions envelop them. Then after taking a deep breath, he reaches over to press the play button on the keyboard, and Joshua can feel his heart racing in anticipation. 

Upon playing, he’s greeted with the familiar sounds of his guitar filling his ears, and then his voice comes in. Hearing himself in such a professionally produced track and not just as raw vocals bouncing off the walls of his room is absolutely unbelievable. He could also pinpoint the subtle layers Jihoon has added to the track𑁋a faint drumbeat and soft vocal harmonies. 

It was a song that was once simple lyrics in a dusty journal and a few rough guitar chords. It wasn’t meant to be anything grand; it was originally a personal project made on a whim in the middle of the night just to channel his feelings and his dreams into something palpable. 

But now, hearing it with such rich yet attenuated production for the first time, it feels as if the song has taken on a life of its own. 

“Holy𑁋wow,” Joshua says the moment he takes off the headphones, staring at Jihoon with disbelief. “Are you sure this is my song?” 

Jihoon chuckles at that. “Positive, man.”

Joshua’s eyes remain wide. He holds the headphones in his hands, turning them over and inspecting them closely as if trying to decipher the magic hidden within. 

“I never imagined it could sound like this,” he admits meekly. “I mean, I’ve always dreamed about this, but... to actually hear it like this? It’s incredible.”

Jihoon nods encouragingly. “You had the foundation; I just built on it. I’m telling you, with the right push, it could really connect with people.”

Joshua leans back in his chair, still holding the headphones in his grasp like it's a sacred bar of gold, and lets out a deep breath. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“The recording will be on this USB drive,” Jihoon shows off a tiny, ruby red drive in his hand. “I’ll work on polishing it up a bit more, but this is essentially it. You could also gain some attention from your busking gigs. What do you say?”

Well, it’s not like he can say no to that. 

“I’m in,” Joshua replies with a grin.

The minute that he steps out of the studio later that day, a breeze of cold air suddenly nips at his cheek. Joshua brings his head up to see the sky thick with clouds, and to his amazement, delicate snowflakes begin to fall, gently drifting down and settling on his hair and shoulders. It’s the first snowfall of the season.

There’s something almost magical about the way the snow falls, he thinks. As he continues to walk through the streets, there’s a sense of renewal that washes over him, a fresh start, just like the song he’s worked so hard on and the dreams he's held at the tips of his fingers. He takes a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs, and pulls out his phone to text you. 

[05:39PM | joshua hong] Still have time to meet up later? 

Your reply comes in almost instantaneously. 

[05:41PM | y/n] just left the museum :) it’s snowing outside!!!

[05:42PM | joshua hong] Dress warmly ❤️ I’ll meet you at your place?

[05:42PM | y/n] I will. see you soon ❤️

Chuckling to himself, Joshua pulls the jacket tighter around his body and stuffs his hands inside his pockets, quickening his pace at the thought of seeing you.

When the season of spring rolls over, trees are budding with beautiful, bright green leaves and flowers are blooming in a vibrant array of colours. Spring has always been one of your favourite seasons, and this year is no different𑁋especially if you get to see it with the people close to you.

You’ve been coming back to attend your art class at the museum, and you’ve decided to pick up a small side role as a teacher’s aide to earn some extra money since more people have been enrolling into the art programs. So far, it’s been very rewarding and fulfilling, and meeting new people who share your same passions has been a joy. 

Plus, you could proudly say the spark for painting has been getting stronger and stronger each passing day. 

Wheein greets you with enthusiasm when you walk out of the classroom, explaining with annoyance about how one of the girls in her classroom was someone she heavily despised back in high school. Seungkwan shows up when you both step out of the museum, and you have to remind them that you can’t sacrifice your plans with Joshua to hang out with them at the arcade that just opened down the street. 

“They’re in their honeymoon phase,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes teasingly. 

“They’ve been in their honeymoon phase for, like, half the year now,” Wheein grumbles, though her irritation is more playful than serious. “It’s not like they’re going to stop anytime soon.”

“And Y/N is practically dating a celebrity at this point. Have you seen the way people are talking about his music online?” 

Your best friends are boasting about your relationship right in front of you, making you roll your eyes. But you can’t help the way your cheeks colour with a tad bit of embarrassment and… a hint of proudness too, because they’re right. 

Joshua has had a few more songs released under his name, and performing at the busking centre has become a regular part of his schedule, his days working at the café lessening as he’s been focusing more on his music. His performances have been slowly drawing more attention, both locally and online, and it’s clear that his passion is shining through. You’re incredibly proud of him𑁋you’ve always had been.

Your footsteps are as light as a feather by the time you reach the busking centre. There’s already a good size crowd gathered around, and you can see Joshua sitting in the middle, propped on a stool with his guitar. Seokmin is there too, sitting on a stool of his own with a microphone in front of him, and there’s one more person. Judging by the small details that Joshua alludes to𑁋with the man’s distinctive button nose and laid-back stature𑁋you could only assume it’s Jihoon sitting behind the keyboard with a calm and focused expression. 

As you, Seungkwan, and Wheein find a spot at the edge of the crowd, he seems to spot you almost immediately in the midst of singing a song, his eyes lighting up the moment they meet yours. He gives you a small smile, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth spread through your chest. Joshua looks completely at ease as he tunes his guitar, his fingers moving cleverly over the strings.

He looks really, really pretty. The sun seemed to be shining down on him in all the right ways, the sleeves of the white collared shirt that he was wearing pulled up to reveal his forearms, and a dainty pair of glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The subtle spring breeze rumples his hair just enough to make him look effortlessly handsome. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

The entire crowd is captivated, yet it's as if he's singing directly to you, and in a way, he is. The vibrations fly through the air and hit every inch of your skin and into your chest, each note reverberating in your heart. You watch the way his lips move, the way his eyes light up, and the way the crowd responds𑁋it all tells you just how special this moment is.

As the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts in applause once again, and you find yourself brightly clapping along with everyone else. He looks over at you, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. Then he stands up with Seokmin and Jihoon following, the three of them taking a bow together, before he sets his guitar down and makes his way toward you. 

Seungkwan and Wheein give you knowing looks before stepping aside to give you two some space, leaving to approach Seokmin and Jihoon. 

“Did you like it?” he asks while signing to you. 

You purse your lips together, shooting a musing glance up at the sky, before signing, “You already know what I think of it.” 

“In fact, I do not,” Joshua responds playfully, stepping a bit closer to you. “That’s why I’m asking you, love.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, feigning mock suspicion, and he seems to already know what you’re trying to point out. 

“Of course I’m fishing for compliments,” he adds on with a cheeky grin, endearingly wrinkling his nose that his glasses slide down just a bit. “Your opinion matters the most to me. Winning your approval means that I’ve accomplished the world, you know.” 

You can't help but laugh faintly at his words, though his earnestness warms your heart. Tentatively, you reach out to adjust his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. His gaze follows your movements as you pull away from him slightly, the corners of his lips twitching up even further.

“It was wonderful,” You sign back bashfully. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you realise how cheesy it sounds, but Joshua’s features only soften as he reads your hands and catches a glimpse of a twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. 

He reaches down and takes one of your hands into his. “That was all that I needed to know.” Then he glances at the time displayed on his phone and looks back at you. “The aquarium is still open, right?” 

Your eyes widen at that𑁋that’s right, you were too caught in the moment that you nearly forgot about your plans𑁋and you give an eager nod.

“Perfect,” Joshua chips eagerly, his hand squeezing yours encouragingly. “The painting you did the other week reminded me of the jellyfish exhibit.”

“This awfully feels like a break-up.”

Joshua furrows his brows at that while folding one of his shirts and placing it inside a box. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re breaking up with me,” Jeonghan retaliates jokingly, fauxing a sulky pout. “and moving out. I thought we had something special going on here.”

“You were the one who wanted me to move out in the first place.”

Jeonghan sighs dramatically, slumping his body against the doorframe of Joshua's now half-empty room. “That was before I realised how lonely it would be without you here. And now you’re spreading your wings and flying off.”

As sarcastic as that sounds, the corners of Joshua’s lips turn up fondly. If it weren’t for Jeonghan taking him in as his roommate from the very beginning ever since moving away, he wouldn’t lie about feeling a little sentimental. 

After packing up the remains of his clothes, Joshua stands up from sitting on his ass on the floor for two hours straight, crossing his arms together and shooting Jeonghan a pointed look. “You know I’m only going to be living like… fifteen minutes away, right? And I’ll still be working at the café.”

“I’m officially putting you as full-time then.” Jeonghan’s lips quirk up in a smirk.

“Screw that,” Joshua huffs with a laugh. “I’ve already got enough on my plate.”

“Right, because you’re so famous,” Jeonghan remarks exaggeratingly. “Heard you signed a napkin for someone the other day.” 

Joshua snorts at that in response. Okay, he’s certainly not as famous as Jeonghan depicts him to be, but apparently famous enough for someone to approach him and ask for his autograph on a napkin. Apart from the gigs in the busking centre, he also has a few social media accounts set up where he can post song covers on occasion and drop updates about his music. 

All he has is his presence, a guitar, and a dream that’s slowly taking shape right before him. He knows it’s a long road ahead, but even with the small progress that’s been made so far, he’s hopeful, determined.

The new apartment is small but cozy. It’s not much, but it’s a place to call his own𑁋his own little corner of the world. He decides it’s not worth the energy right now to unpack everything and instead settles on top of the lone mattress that’s currently on the middle of the floor, feeling both exhausted and oddly content. 

He stretches his body on top of the soft surface and lets out a sigh of relief as he sinks into the mattress, gazing aimlessly at the barren ceiling above him. The remnants of packing are scattered about the place, with boxes sitting in corners and unopened bags lying around. His guitar sits on its stand right next to the window. There are still many things to figure out𑁋how to decorate the place, where to put everything, what this all means for his future. 

But for now, he allows himself this moment of stillness; this brief, quiet pause before turning the page to the next chapter.

After nearly nodding off, a few knocks at the door jolt him awake. He blinks in surprise, pushing himself up from the mattress. Stretching out his tired limbs, he makes his way to the door, opening it to find you standing on the other side. 

You stand there with a bag clutched at your side, suspended under the singular hallway light that highlights the fondness in your eyes. You shake the bag lightly.

“Food?” You sign to him.

Joshua swears his heart drops down to his knees just from that alone, his exhaustion melting away from your simple offer. Then his stomach rumbles, as if in agreement, reminding him that he hasn’t exactly had a proper meal the majority of the day from how busy he was with moving in. The nod he gives you makes you chuckle.

As you step inside his new place for the first time, you take a moment to gaze around at the barren walls and scattered boxes. Like any new, fresh canvas, the space holds so much potential and possibilities. If it’s home for Joshua, then it’s also… home for you too. 

The two of you sit down cross-legged on the mattress while unpacking the bag of its contents. The aroma of takeout food travels through the air. You spread out the food between you, and Joshua seems to light up upon seeing the familiar, comforting dishes.

Sharing a meal together feels a bit different now. You don’t exactly know why, but there’s a subtle shift in the air you haven’t noticed until this very moment. There’s a sense of beginning, of making this place feel like home, and it’s oddly intimate. It's a blank slate waiting to be filled with new memories. New memories that you can’t wait to make with him. 

Joshua feels a nudge at his knee while chewing on a sushi roll, seeing that you’re holding out your phone for him to read. 

Can I show you something? 

He swallows his bite of sushi and looks up at you with curiosity, taking a second to clear his mouth while giving a nod.

Shrugging off the nerves, you set your plate of food down to reach into the bag. You pull out a small canvas, and when you turn it over to show him, it shows a beautifully painted scene of a sunset casting over the horizon. The vibrant hues of yellow and orange blend seamlessly with soft blues and purples. Along with that, the silhouette of a couple sitting together𑁋with one leaning their head on the other’s shoulder𑁋under a tree completes the picture. 

Joshua reaches out to touch the canvas, letting a fingertip caress over its coarse surface.

“This is beautiful,” he tells you. “Did you make this for me?”

You nod, and he watches closely as you type on your phone.

I wanted to give you your first piece of decoration for your new place

Joshua’s eyes soften as he reads your message, the warmth in his chest spreading to his entire body.

“It’s perfect, honey,” he says. “I’ll be sure to hang it somewhere special.”

In your eyes, you can already imagine it hung on the empty wall beside the window, where the morning light will cast a gentle glow on it and bring the colours to life. In your eyes, you can imagine your easel sitting right below it, with Joshua’s guitar propped right beside it…

“I should have the stuff to hang it in one of the boxes. I’m not sure which one though.” Joshua’s eyes flicker between the unopened boxes standing intimidatingly in the corner of the room, letting out a small, airy laugh. “But I’ll find it soon, I promise.”

You give him a warm, reassuring smile, as if conveying that there wasn’t any rush in finding it right now. 

When you both finish eating and cleaning up, you find yourself sitting on the mattress, body turned so that you are staring out the window of Joshua’s apartment, reveling in the stillness of the summer night and the way moonlight filters on the wall. Your silhouette is quickly joined by another one as Joshua settles closely beside you, your shoulders brushing lightly. 

At the corner of your eye, a glowing phone screen catches your attention, on it displayed a message from Joshua. 

What are you thinking about? 

The question almost seems silly somehow, yet you ponder for a few moments, before taking the phone to type back: 

I made a big decision today

Joshua lifts up an intrigued brow, and he tilts his head inquisitively at you, the soft brown tones of his eyes glistening like honey. It makes you lose your train of thought briefly as your fingers drift clumsily across the screen.

I’m going to participate in the upcoming exhibition at the museum. I’ve been thinking of trying again for a while now

“You are?” Joshua’s eyes widen. “When is it going to be?” 

“During fall,” You sign in response.

Fall isn’t that far away. The reminder seems to gnaw uneasily at your nerves, and Joshua notices it right away. 

“Feeling nervous about it?” he asks. 

You nod slowly, the weight of your decision settling heavily in your chest.

“It’s okay to be nervous. I know it didn’t go well last time,” Joshua continues. “But, well𑁋you already know what I’m going to say, right?” 

Now, the nod you give is a bit more confident. You bring your hands up to sign, “I believe in you.” You wonder if it’s his favourite phrase, since he’s said it to you so many times before. It holds a special place in your quiet conversations. 

“Exactly.” He wiggles a playful finger in front of your face, the moonlight makes his eyes twinkle with reassurance. “I believe in you. I’ve seen the way you pour your heart into your art. No matter what, you’re going to shine, love. And you have to believe in yourself too, okay? That’s the most important step.”

Joshua reaches over to grab your hand into his, squeezing firmly, before bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss right at your knuckles. You melt at that𑁋probably into the mattress at this point𑁋and hang your head down bashfully. 

When the silence rolls over again, you lean your head on Joshua’s shoulder, your silhouettes intertwining together on the wall.

Maybe this is where you belong, after all. 

There’s a quiet comfort you find in the palette of fall: the colours of leaves changing to warm oranges, reds, and yellows, the subtle crispness of the air that reminds you of the sweet taste of cinnamon rolls, and the way the sunlight feels a little softer on your skin.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. This is it. The moment you’ve been dreading and anticipating for weeks. You toy anxiously with the sleeves of your cardigan as you walk into the museum, the grand hall stretching out before your eyes. 

It’s all familiar just like last year𑁋the same setup, some familiar and new faces. More people are probably participating than last time since the art program has grown exponentially, and the thought fills you up with trepidation, if anything. Wheein is also here too engaging in the exhibition, Seungkwan was going to come later, and Joshua had already texted you that he's on his way after ending his performance at the busking centre early (though you insisted he didn’t have to… yet he did anyway) though you’re unsure when he’s going to arrive.

Along with the other artists in the room, you take a seat as you wait for the exhibition to finally begin. Then you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you perk up to see Wheein quickly engulfing you in a hug before pulling away.

“Jeez, there you are! You’re sitting like a wallflower and I couldn’t find you anywhere,” she rambles quickly that you don’t entirely catch what she’s saying, but you could tell she’s nervous too. She takes a visible breath, and brings her hands up. “How are you feeling? Heard there’s more competition this time.” 

You offer her a small, reassuring smile. “Nervous, but excited. I feel more prepared.”

Wheein nods, her eyes lighting up at that. “Good. You've got this.” She glances around the room before turning back to you. “See you on the other side?”

“Definitely,” You assure her, feeling a surge of confidence flow through you. 

Wheein squeezes your hand with a firm look one last time before moving off to find her own spot. A short while later, the exhibition officially begins with a long speech by the museum director once more. There’s still no sign of Joshua anywhere, but you tell yourself that you got this. 

Ignoring your sweaty palms, you spot your artwork hanging on the wall. It feels like a small part of you is now on display. And for the first time, there’s a feeling of pride that wraps around you comfortably. You feel more prepared than last time; with the help of Wheein, you wrote down some written statements you could present to the critics and the visitors who come by if they ever ask about your piece. 

A few minutes later, an interpreter approaches you𑁋one who isn't late this time, thankfully𑁋and you greet her with a friendly nod. She offers a kind smile to you, and you feel a bit more at ease, knowing that you’ll be able to communicate effectively with any critics and curators. 

As people start to crowd around the extravagant hall, you find yourself observing their reactions from a distance. Some pause to study your piece closely while reading the written statements you prepared. Others seem to take in the scene with thoughtful silence and then move on to the next artist after you. However, before you know it, time seems to slip away fairly quickly, and you’re surrounded by a sea of curious faces willing to engage in discussions about your painting. 

It’s a bit overwhelming having to explain and answer to so many people at once where you can feel their eyes practically boring into you, but you’ve rehearsed this part so many times that you feel yourself becoming more comfortable, more natural in the way you’re confiding in your work. 

As much as art can be interpreted, reinterpreted, and misinterpreted, you know that in the end, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. Your work is supposed to continue conversations, not end them. And you hope that yours does just that.

After talking to a sweet-looking old couple, you take a moment to catch your breath. You can’t tell if the stars have possibly aligned for you or if it’s just the magic of the night that’s making everything feel so right.

Just as you're starting to relax a bit, a familiar, comforting sight at the corner of your eye captures your attention. And when you bring your head back up to welcome the next visitor, you find Joshua right in front of you, coming up with his arms behind his back and a playful look on his face. He’s dressed in a comfortable navy blue sweater and a pair of beige jeans, appearing effortlessly handsome and soft as always. 

“Hello,” he greets warmly before stopping in front of you, letting his eyes trail past you in order to roam over the large painting that sat behind. So this is what you’ve been keeping a surprise all this time. “Your painting is beautiful. Can you tell me more about it?” 

You blink in surprise at his sudden performance on being a visitor, biting back a smile creeping up your lips and the affectionate flutters bursting in your stomach. 

Gesturing to the painting, you start to explain as your interpreter steps in to translate to Joshua. You start with the basics of your piece: the inspiration, the styles and techniques you used, and what you hoped to convey, and Joshua listens attentively, though he seems to be more focused on you than anything else. For some reason, him being the only one standing here is making you more nervous than the group of people you talked to earlier. 

“I could see the passion you put into your piece,” Joshua says softly. “It’s admirable. It was the first thing that caught my eye when I walked in here and I could tell that there’s something truly special about it𑁋that there’s a lot of heart in it. So thank you for sharing this part of you to the world. You have a gift, honestly.”

You find every ounce of wanting to thank him shy away as a blush rises to your cheeks. Instead, you give a small nod, head hanging down as if the floor was the most interesting sight in the world, feeling overwhelmed by his words. If you look at him, you’d feel like you would melt into a puddle on the floor.

Joshua chuckles quietly at your reaction before giving you one last lingering look. You watch as his shoes walk out of your line of sight, his presence leaving behind a comforting feeling to settle in your chest, right by your heart. You feel like you can conquer the world right now. 

When you finally bring your head back up, you don't spot him anywhere. For a moment, you scan the large room, looking for the familiar navy blue sweater, but you assume he’s already moved on to another part of the exhibition. 

You let out a breath you hardly noticed you were holding until now. 

As the evening winds down and time is getting closer to the dreaded announcement of results, the atmosphere in the museum starts to shift from the excitement of the exhibition to a more anticipatory hush as everyone returns back to their seats. The tremble in your hands returns back once more as you peer around anxiously, hoping to see some sight of a familiar face𑁋of Joshua, of your best friends, of anything. 

Minutes later, Wheein and Seungkwan run up to you with wide, beaming grins. Joshua isn’t with them, though. Your shoulders deflate slightly.

“They’re about to announce the results!” Wheein exclaims, signing to you with more enthusiasm than you can ever have right now. “How do you feel?”

“I swear I saw so many people gathered at your painting earlier,” Seungkwan adds in. “That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

“Not all the time,” Wheein reassures him with a disappointed tone, but she keeps a light-hearted smile. “Usually it just means people were interested, but hey, it’s definitely a good sign! You should be proud of yourself, no matter what happens, Y/N, okay?”

You force a smile at that, trying to hide the nervousness that’s crawling up your spine. You're not sure if you're ready to hear the results, yet at the same time, there’s a pang of excitement that’s hard to not acknowledge too.

The museum director steps up to the podium once everyone scrambles to return to their seats. You shoot glances around the room, spotting familiar faces, some looking calm and composed, others nervously tapping their feet or fidgeting with their clothes. You can hardly catch up with the way your heart is racing like it's running on overdrive, but you attempt to readjust your focus to the director. 

“Now, I would like to formally express congratulations to all who have claimed a place in this year’s annual exhibition. We had an outstanding number of participants and submissions this year. It was a very challenging time for the judges…”

The director’s voice is steady, yet each word that you watch leave his mouth seems to stretch on as your nerves make the second feel like minutes then to hours. Your palms have become clammy, and you grip your hands into tight fists, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. 

“…the judges have taken into consideration to select the works that stood out in originality, technique, and emotional impact. And now, for the results…”

Your breath catches as the director begins to announce the winners slowly but surely, one by one, heartbeat thumping stronger with each one. The names come and go, each following with a few moments of applause erupting around the room that you echo along with as the artists hop onto the stage to retrieve their certification from the director. It’s like a momentary pause of time before the next. 

The moments that pass feel as if a small weight is being lifted from your shoulders, only to be replaced by a heavier, more pressing sense of anticipation, of dread, of doubt. Déjà vu starts to seep into your thoughts as you bite at your bottom lip and bring your eyes down from the stage, feeling your chest tightening with hopelessness. There’s no point. 

And it’s because you’ve become so attuned to your thoughts that you don’t notice the collective murmur of excitement that ripples through the crowd right before you. You pick up to clap your hands for the name was just called, only to be met with quite literally everyone’s faces on you. Nothing but confusion clouds your mind. 

Are they… clapping for you?

The realisation hits you hard, and for a few long seconds, you’re caught between disbelief and elation. Your body feels absolutely frozen in place; everyone’s mouth is moving too fast for you to fully process; the world around you feels like it’s spinning. The moment seems to stretch into an endless void, and you can barely believe what’s happening. The crowd’s faces blur into a sea of smiles and congratulations… for you. 

Your name𑁋your artwork𑁋had been recognised.

You nearly tumble on the way to the front at the way your legs feel numb underneath you, each step feeling as if you’re floating on air. Perhaps this is really just one, long, tortuous dream, but the way your trembling hands clutch the certificate as you receive it from the director feels startlingly real. 

The director offers you a handshake and an acknowledging smile, but you hardly register it all in your mind. In those short moments, you take the opportunity to swiftly scan the room, catching sight of Wheein and Seungkwan clapping happily for you, and Joshua standing right next to them. He’s clapping along too𑁋is that a bouquet of flowers in his hands?𑁋with a warm, proud smile painted across his features. You consider it more important than any of the applause around the room; more important than the award itself, ironically.

You make your way back to your seat, the certificate feeling both heavy and light in your hands. Every congratulatory smile that the other artists send to you is like a burst of warmth against the cool autumn night.

As the last of the names are called, you find yourself drifting among the crowd, eyes in search of your friends. But it isn’t long for your body to be engulfed by the arms of Wheein and Seungkwan who have managed to squeeze their way through the crowd to find you, their faces glowing with uncontainable excitement.

“Y/N, you did it!” Wheein exclaims, her eyes glistening with joy as she shakes you by the shoulders. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you!”

“I told you it was a good sign!” Seungkwan remarks to Wheein before facing you with a wide grin. “Shit, I’m about to cry again𑁋I’m so happy for you, Y/N!”

As their words sink in, an overwhelming bubble of triumph grows within you. A shaky laugh leaves you as they continue to shower you with their happiness, heat beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes from how much your heart feels so fully right now. 

Wheein drags Seungkwan by the wrist to greet the other artists, and you’re left standing at the very side of the museum, gazing wandering around through all the faces within your vicinity. You don’t see any sign of Joshua anywhere. Did he get lost? 

With that, you pull your phone out to text him, before your eyes widen in surprise at the way you missed a message from him sent five minutes ago. You were a bit too distracted by everything else that you didn’t feel the notification of his text.

[09:03PM | joshua hong] I’ll meet you outside ❤️

Without any hesitation, you slip your phone back into your pocket and make your way toward the exit of the museum, leaving behind the lively inside and into the peaceful night. The cool autumn air greets you with a refreshing embrace as you step outside, the sky painted with the soft hues of dusk.

Joshua isn’t standing that much farther away from you, spotting him waiting idly by the small gate at the entrance of the museum, a singular spotlight shining down on him from above. As you start to approach him, he seems to notice and turns his body toward you, a smile spreading across his lips. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sign to him curiously.

Joshua’s lips form a thin line in thought, signing back expressively while answering, “Too noisy in there, and I thought you deserved some fresh air. Plus, I wanted to give you something.”

After that, he pulls out the bouquet of flowers from behind his back and extends it toward you with a sheepish look.

“I know you probably already saw them, but I couldn’t hide it any longer,” he tells you. “Congratulations, my love.”

The pleasant fragrance of the flowers float to your nostrils as you take them into your grasp. The flowers themselves are a perfect assortment of colours you find dear to your heart, like each one was personally handpicked for you. The thought and everything else has heat prickling at the corners of your eyes. It’s all too much and just enough at the same time.

Joshua grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you close to him so that one of your arms is wrapped around his waist. He places a small kiss on the top of your head before leaning down to look into your eyes.

“Look at you,” he coos softly, perhaps a pinch of tease behind his words you detect. “You’re glowing.” 

You nearly laugh at that, coming out as a shaky and probably ugly snort instead that makes you bury your face into Joshua’s shoulder. Maybe you are glowing, maybe it’s just the spotlight hanging over, or maybe you’re just too happy to even care. You feel his chest lifting and receding from the laughs of his own as you cling to him. For a moment, everything else fades away𑁋the museum, the crowd, the nerves.

When you pull away slightly, he’s still looking at you, taking the chance to let a finger slowly caress the skin of your cheek. There’s stars in his eyes that you could pinpoint, ones that seem to shine brighter than even the largest of constellations. You feel like you could get lost in them, in him, and for a moment, you do. Your breath hitches in your throat. 

A gentle breeze carries the scent of fallen leaves, the soft rustling of leaves surrounding the two of you. It's as if the world has paused, giving you a moment to simply be with each other.

You bring the arm that was around his waist back to your side. He still holds you by the hips as you bring a hand up to sign.

“I know that I can’t hear,” You start to sign slowly, his gaze flickering down to your hands curiously. “but I can feel your voice when you hold me.”

Joshua nods thoughtfully. He seems to contemplate something for a moment, before bringing his hands from your hips and up to sign. 

“How does it make you feel?” 

You purse your lips in thought, trying to find the right signs to express what you're feeling. It's hard to put into words, or even signs, the way you feel when you're with him.

“Safe… loved…” You draw your fingers graciously through the air, and Joshua’s eyes soften with affection as he watches. “...heard… understood…”

The words fly off your hands and swirl around like a planet orbiting its sun. As you peer into Joshua's eyes, you know he understands. He's always understood.

“I want…” You begin hesitantly, somewhat feeling silly at what you’re about to ask from him. “...to feel you say something to me.” 

Joshua’s eyes widen slightly, and he tilts his head intriguingly, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

You start with taking the fingertip of your hand touching your chin, before drawing it away in the form of a small arc. Next, you point to yourself, then you point towards him. Taking both arms, you cross your arms over your chest as if you were hugging yourself. And then finally, you point back at yourself. 

“Tell me that you love me.” 

A faint hint of a smirk crosses his features, before it softens into a simple look, a simple smile. Joshua just steps back forward and takes you back into his embrace, letting you press yourself against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close enough that you could possibly even feel his heartbeat. You love feeling that as well.

You swear that if there was one place you could stay in forever, it would be in his arms. And right now, it was only the beginning of something beautiful.

“I love you,” he tells you. For the first time, you don't read his lips to know he said it, yet you feel those three words resonate through your entire being and down to the very core of your heart, just where they belong.

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@lullips

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Thursdays are your least favourite. You have two classes and a large chunk of nothing followed by a late lab. In the time in-between, you don’t bother making the venture back to your dorm, instead opting for the library after a quick stop at the cafe. After sitting around and trying to focus on the dense texts, you’re almost too exhausted for your lab. 

Still, you get through it without a complete disaster and another dose of homework to add to your pile. As you follow the tide of students down the halls, spread out in pairs, trios, and larger groups, you yawn. You peek out the windows in dread. It’s already dark. With the autumn well in-effect, the nights aren’t only earlier, but blacker. 

You’re the last out, hanging back as you’re too nervous to get caught underfoot. You come down the front steps of the century-old building as your classmates disperse in fading ripples of chatter. As they fade into the evening, you’re left alone. 

You keep your hand around your phone, tucked just inside your jacket pocket, and head down the path. There’s a shortcut behind the English hall but you only take that in the daytime. So, you’re left with the long-winding route. 

As you pass by one of those poles with the siren at the top and a button labeled, press for assistance, you’re reminded of those cautionary talks during orientation. Try not to walk alone after dark, it’s always best to practice the buddy system. Well, your only buddy isn’t answering your texts. Besides, it’s not Peter’s responsibility and he has a morning lab. 

Your soles scuff and echo, sending a child up your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s almost as if there’s another set of steps. You slow and peer over your shoulder. It’s only your shadow limned by the lamp post that lights the benches and hedges that trim the walkway. 

You turn back and gurgle around a yipe. You stagger away from the figure as they catch you by your upper arm. You pull out your phone and flick on the flashlight, shining it in your accoster’s face. 

“Please--” you begin as the man lets you go and shies away, shielding himself with his hand. His fingers gleam in the glow and the leather glove cut above his knuckles darkens his palm. “Huh?” 

Bucky taps the frame of your phone and you lower it. You gape at him in shock, casting the light at the pavement instead. He blinks as he clears his vision. 

“Great to see your reflexes are on point,” he rubs his eyes.  

“What---” you look around as you bounce on your toes. 

“Stalking around a college isn’t exactly my idea of a good night either,” he says as your question hangs unfinished. “On a call. Details are confidential.” 

“Uh, oh? Around here?” You peer around, heart thumping against your ribs as your throat tightens. 

“Ha, I know, right? I should ask you why you’re out so late. Wandering around in the dark?” 

You blanch and rest your hand on your messenger bag, itching to take out your puffer as the pressure builds in your chest. 

“I... just walking home, sir. I swear--” 

“Relax,” his eyes catch the movement of your hand. “You’re no villain, I know. I only meant...” he pauses and glances around deliberately, “not very safe to be out.” 

You gulp and pull up the flap of your bag. You cough and bury your hand into the small pocket sewn into the lining. You take out your puffer and bring it to your mouth. You suck in the air as his posture softens. 

“Hey, woah, I’m not tryna scare ya. You okay?” He asks. 

You nod and swallow, lowering the inhaler. “Sorry, I... I’m tired and the air is cold,” you explain. “I’m just going back to my dorm. My lab was late.” 

“Right,” he accepts easily. “Why don’t you let me walk you?” 

“I... I’m alright. What about... whoever you’re looking for?” 

“Am I looking for someone?” He challenges. “Just a walk through, doll.” 

“Oh, erm, but uh, I don’t wanna... distract you,” you clutch your puffer so tight you accidentally push down the canister. “Oh, uh, sorry.” 

“Not distracting me. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let a young lady walk home alone in the dark, would I?” 

“Maybe, but... you don’t have to,” you squeak. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slow. He clicks his tongue, “you don’t like me.” 

“N-no,” you sputter. “No, it’s not, erm, sorry. Sorry.” 

“Don’t listen to the kid, he’s full of it,” he says. 

“Peter? He didn’t--” 

“Sweetheart, I’m kidding with ya,” he pats your arm, “really, I’m just looking out for you. Young girl like you, so quiet. Sweet. I saw the way that guy almost walked right through ya. And what did you do? You apologised to him. That ain’t right. Not how you treat a lady where I’m from.” 

You fidget and peek around. You can’t see much more than shadows beyond the wooden slats of benches and barren bushes. “But... I was in his way.” 

“Now, doll, how could you be in anyone’s way? Hope it’s not Pete putting that in your head,” he intones. 

“Peter? No, he’s nice. He’s a good friend. He’s... he helps me,” you say. 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Bucky says, “point me in the right direction, doll? You stay out here any longer and you’re gonna chatter your teeth out of your head.” 

You hesitate before you get what he means. You don’t think he’s going to let you go alone and you really just want to go home. It is really cold out. You point behind him, “just down there and around.” 

“Right,” he turns and waves you along with him. You fall into step, too afraid to protest any further. You do feel a bit better not being alone. “Strange, you don’t strike me as Peter’s type.” 

“What? His type? Oh no, we’re friends,” you chirp. 

He hums. “Sure, just like all the others he brings to the Tower.” 

You frown and put your chin down, hiding your confusion, “others?” 

“Sure, bubbly ones. They talk a lot. Not like you though.” 

“Oh... well, we’re just doing a project,” you shrug. 

“I’m sure. Just a project,” he says. “Sorry, I misunderstood.” 

The air grows even more frigid as you walk on in silence. As you think of his implication, you feel your throat locking up again. You take another puff and cough. You turn and he follows you around the bend. 

“He isn’t worth your time anyway,” his deep timbre rolls through the tension. “I mean, if he was, he’d be the one walking you home right now, wouldn’t he?”