#thank you so much for this wonderful fic!!!!

[regulusrules]

I'm beginning to doubt our sanity as a fandom to trend every while for no goddamn reason. Nevertheless, it's the best time to.. FIC REC!!

1. Once upon a time, there was a prince by @anonymintea. 2K, G.

Please. The sweetness of this. I legitimately can't. It's the mental image I want to go to sleep to every night. It's what they deserved, we deserved, everyone deserved. You guys we need more fics like this.

2. My breaths are run by your compass by @regulusrules. 71K, T.

Now that it’s completed, I am out here screaming my lungs out about how much insanity there is in this fic. You think you've read before a fic that has obsessive, devouring, all-consuming love between those two? A fic that its plot twist will keep you staring at the ceiling and what’s beyond it for a good sum of days? Think twice.

3. I'll die if it makes you love me by @giacarem. 7K, T.

There are so many magic reveals out there you guys, but trust me, none are like this one. The way I was entranced as if I was right in the middle of it. The way it just awed me with lines that got me staring at the void. Absolutely beautiful.

4. Agate by @ironfamjam, @papysanzo. 24K, T.

What are you even doing in life if not obsessively reading ironfamjam's fics and gazing in awe at papysanzo's art? Just. Just go. You will thank me later, because this fic will turn your mind to mush.

5. a stranger beneath my face by @lancelotofthelake. 16K, N/R.

You guys need to understand that I am positively insane about this fic. More than amazing fic with perfect in-character writing. At times I wonder what would've happened if the bbcm writers just checked ao3 while writing the show. They should've read this one and incorporated it.

[lunarlando]

Hi I love ur girl dad lando fics sm they're adorable I was wondering if u could write smth where lando and readers girls invite their friends for a sleepover (like a crossover with carlos,charles, Oscar and max F's kids) cuz they're besties and reader and lando putting in lots of effort for the girls and making it a fun time for them and overall fluff and comedy pls xx

Hope u have a grt day and feel free to ignore this request if u don't want to write it xx 🫶🏼

so so sorry this took me so long to get around to, but thank you for your request! as a quick refresher since it's been ages since i've written for this little universe, we've got estelle and delilah norris, adrien leclerc, teo sainz, maeve and clara piastri, and some new additions—luca and lina fewtrell! hope you enjoy x

feel free to request more :)

“If someone told me I'd be in my thirties blowing up air mattresses for a bunch of children instead of going for a night out, I’d call them mental.” 

“And yet, here you are.” 

Here Lando is indeed, sitting in the middle of the living room floor, blowing up the third of eight child sized air mattresses for the girls’ sleepover tonight. Mattresses one and two have been cast off to the side, ready to go. You’re watching him moan and groan from the kitchen while you prep snacks and drinks for the kids. 

Estelle and Delilah had begged you to have a sleepover with their friends this weekend, and with all of them actually in Monaco for once, how could you refuse? 

“Y’know, you’re making terrible time on those mattresses,” You tease, turning towards the fridge to grab those little smoothie drinks the girls love. You’re all stocked up on their favorite foods, you’ve got their favorite movies queued on the television, and you’re pretty much prepared for anything a group of excited kids would want. 

All you want is for everything to go well tonight, because your girls are your world. 

You’re swept off your feet before you can throw another smart remark Lando’s way, drawn into his chest as his fingers dig into your sides, making you nearly shriek with laughter. You manage to push him away, but not before he’s rendered you breathless with his tickling. 

“When are all the little rascals coming over?” 

You slide your hands up his chest to link around the back of his neck, fingers toying with the curls at his nape. “Should be soon. Carlos is picking up Adrien on his way to bring Teo here, Lily and Oscar are dropping off the twins after gymnastics, and Pietra said she’ll be sending Max over with Luca and Lina pretty soon.” 

“Pietra’s not coming round?” 

“Pietra’s eight months pregnant on bed rest, my love. Have you forgotten, or has all that blowing made you lightheaded?” 

Lando rolls his eyes, squeezing your hip. “Ha ha, very funny, you.” 

“You love me.” 

“Duh. Wouldn’t have let you rope me into this circus otherwise,” He teases. 

“Don’t act like it hasn’t been your life’s dream to host a sleepover with eight kids hopped up on sugar and sweets.” 

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

There’s an undertone there, something more serious in his words that makes you smile warmly.

Lando has always been a family guy. His loved ones are his world, and the little family you’ve been able to create with each other despite all the challenges is one of the few things that take precedence over racing. You still remember the day you told him you were pregnant with Estelle. How he’d gone completely misty eyed and nearly tackled you in a hug before you’d even finished uttering the words. 

He’s told you before, getting to be a father, getting to have a family, it’s a gift he’d never be able to thank you enough for. 

You pull him in closer to kiss him, taking advantage of the girls being busy in their room to have a little time alone to love on your husband. 

“Daddy!!!” Estelle’s loud shriek has you both pulling away from each other in a snap. Lando deflates against you, groaning quietly. 

“Yes, lovebug?” He calls, angling his head towards the direction of her voice. 

“I can’t find my race car pajamas!” 

“That’s ‘cause they’re in the laundry! You got ice cream on them last night, remember?” 

You dig a sharp elbow into Lando’s side, eliciting a high pitched yelp and an incredulous look aimed your way. You raise a brow at your husband. “You gave them ice cream last night?” 

“Shit. Erm, no, ‘course I didn’t,” He says unconvincingly, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t do that, would I? Definitely did not give them—”

“Daddy!” Estelle screeches again, the end of the word long and drawn out. 

“Wow, would you listen to that? I reckon I should go see what I can do for that darling daughter of ours!” He’s wriggled himself free before you can blink, pressing the hastiest of pecks to the corner of your mouth quickly before speeding off to Estelle’s rescue (and away from the trouble he’d been about to get in). 

You laugh and shake your head, because he's just the same as when you’d first had the privilege of loving him all those years ago. He was younger then, more boyish, maybe even a little naive, but that was who you fell in love with. In some ways, he's the same. In other ways, he's grown tenfold. 

Either way, changed or not, you've loved him all this time and will continue to, even after you inevitably become old and grey together. It won't happen for a long time, but you're looking forward to growing old with Lando. 

—

“My back is killing me,” He grumbles later in the night, as he pads gingerly across the room over to his side of the bed. It’s nearly midnight and all the kids had gone off to bed a few hours ago after a fully action packed evening, so now it’s your turn to wind down. 

The days when you’d stumble home hand in hand, drunk and giggling in the wee hours of the morning are nothing but a distant memory. Now, you can barely stay up past twelve most nights. Right now, you’re both exhausted. But the kids had a blast, and that makes everything worth it. 

You giggle at his over exaggerated steps. “C’mere, I’ll massage you.” That makes him perk up, smirking at you like the massage will lead to other things. “Don’t even think about it, mister. Try again another day when we’re not hosting all of our friends’ kids.” 

“Am I able to get that rain check in writing, or…”

“Uncle Lando?” A small voice from the hallway draws both of your attention. Max’s son, Luca, is peering at the two of you, half shrouded in the darkness of the hallway. 

“Luca! What’re you doing up, buddy?” Lando asks, beckoning him into the room. The boy pads in hesitantly, looking worried.

You pat the covers as a sign for him to take a seat and he does, rubbing at his shoulder the same way his dad always does when something is bothering him. Sometimes you can’t believe how similar Luca is to Max. 

“I couldn’t—I can’t sleep,” He mumbles, little brows furrowed. “I miss my mum.” 

“Oh, honey,” You soothe, scooting closer to put your hand over his smaller one. The seven year old’s bottom lip trembles a touch. 

“You know, there was one time your dad and I had to stay in the same hotel room, and he couldn't sleep either because he missed your mum,” Lando mentions, voice light, like he's recalling something casual. 

“You and dad had a sleepover?” 

Lando looks very much like he wants to explain that no, he and Max, two grown men, did not have a sleepover, but at your subtle shake of the head, doesn't. He nods instead, patting the boy on the back. “Yeah, mate, we had a sleepover. Anyways, your dad just couldn’t fall asleep for hours, and d’you wanna know what eventually did help him?” 

“What, Uncle Lando?” 

“We gave your mum a call, and they talked for a bit, and afterwards, he was able to fall asleep right quick. Shall we do that? Give your parents a ring?” 

Luca nods quickly, sniffling. Lando smiles warmly as he reaches over to swipe his phone off the bedside table. You watch as he shows the boy what to do instead of just ringing Max himself. 

Suddenly you're hit with an overwhelming feeling of what Lando would be like if the two of you ever had a son. You’d had the conversation many times before, whether or not you wanted to have a third child. The timing had just never been right. 

Raising two kids under two whilst Lando was away racing most of the time had been rough enough, but the girls were nearly eight now. And sure, his career is still going strong at the moment, but you've got years of experience under your belt now. 

You wouldn't say no to another kid if Lando felt the same way, especially if it ended up being a boy. Make no mistake, you were a girl mom through and through, but the thought of having a little mini Lando running around with his big sisters made your heart swell.

“Mate, shouldn’t you be—Luca! Hey, big guy!” Max answers on the third ring, teasing demeanor morphing straight into parental as soon as he catches a glimpse of his son on the other side of the screen rather than Lando. “What’s up? You having fun with your friends?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Um, is…” Luca hesitates, casting a nervous glance at Lando, who only nods encouragingly. It seems to help, because he turns his attention back, sounding much more firm when he speaks again. “Can I talk to mum?” 

“Can you talk to mum? Of course you can! Let me go find her. You know your mum, always wandering around these days,” Max jokes, winking. Luca giggles quietly. He already looks like he's feeling much better. “Oi, P! There’s someone special who wants to talk to you.” 

Luca chats with Pietra for a little bit, and you can tell just how much that little boy loves and adores his mother. He’s beaming happily when the call ends, a far cry from the timidness he’d come in with earlier. 

“All good now, mate? You’ll try and get some sleep tonight?” Lando asks, clapping Luca on the shoulder gently. 

“Yep! Thanks, Uncle Lando!” He runs off without another word after that. 

“Well, I think we handled that pretty well, don’t you think?” Lando hums, tossing his phone back on the bedside table. “Hello? Darling?” 

“What would you think about having another baby?” You blurt. 

“Another—babe, what? Where is this coming from?” He splutters, looking utterly bewildered. His eyes go wide a split second later. “Wait, you’re not—are you?” 

“No, no, I’m not—I just—fuck, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to ask so bluntly like that, I was trying to ease into the conversation.” 

“Oh. Okay. That’s…yeah. Sorry, you just caught me off guard is all.” He scrubs a hand over his face.  “I didn’t know you were thinking about it. Last I recall we were on the same page about stopping at two. Did something change, or…?” 

“I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking about, y’know, what if we wind up having a boy? A mini Lando, running around with his big sisters one day?” 

Lando opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, then snaps it shut before inhaling a sharp breath and trying again. “I love our little family more than anything.” 

“I do too.”

“Are we really ready to have three kids?” 

“I think we are. We managed eight of them pretty well tonight.” You shrug, sliding a reassuring hand over Lando’s. “Plus, there’s more than enough love to go around, don’t you think?” 

That seems to solidify the decision, because he brings your joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “We got this. Let’s have another baby!” 

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ protective, not possessive ; pb5

➪ summary: another win for the huskies means another night out at a bar celebrating. but when your trip to the bathroom takes a little longer than your girlfriend thinks it should, she's balancing on the edge of protectiveness and possessiveness.

➪ warnings: a brief unwanted touch, too much use of look, gaze, stare, and any other synonym for those

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ cupid's notes: i've had this in my drive for a month now and i'm finally able to post it ! i think i like it, idk guys it's past midnight rn. anyway, i wanted to say thank you again for 1k, i'm positively over the moon with the amount of love you've given me. i hope you guys enjoy the fic !

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

After dating Paige for a few months now, you had grown accustomed to going out after wins and celebrating with her and the team. Even though going out and getting semi-dressed up was not your thing, you would do it for her every time she asked. 

Tonight was no different, your jacket was discarded due to the heat of the packed bar, the slightly revealing shirt you had picked out earlier in the day on display, and jeans hugging your thighs in just the right way that made everyone’s heads turn towards you.

You sat next to Paige, her arm wrapped loosely around your waist as she twisted her glass in her other hand, talking to KK and Azzie. The situation was familiar, something you had done millions of times, jokes you had heard before, but for whatever reason, tonight felt off. 

Maybe it was the test you took today, a new weight off your shoulders you hadn’t felt in so long, or maybe it was the fact that you knew your room was in a messy state and you knew that that was what you had to go back to after this. Whatever it was, it left an uneasy feeling, a growing pit in your stomach.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked over at your girlfriend, watching her laugh at something one of the others had said. You didn’t want to worry her, you just needed a moment to compose yourself. So you reached for her t-shirt, tugging slightly to get her attention, sucking in a breath as her gaze met yours.

Her smile was still present when she looked over at you but her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion at the sight of your distressed expression, something that only she was able to detect. She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a murmur, “You okay, ma?”

You nodded, letting your fake bubbly presence consume you, “Yep, totally fine. Just need to pee, I’ll be back.”

She nodded, watching you carefully as you slipped out of her hold, pushing your way through the crowd of bodies toward the back of the bar where the restrooms were. She let herself focus back on the conversation at hand, easily falling back into the rhythm of it. 

She was almost too far into it to notice that you had been gone for more than 10 minutes, but when she reached for your hand to play with the rings on your fingers she remembered where you had gone. She scanned the bar for any sign of you but was left with a frown when she couldn’t find you. 

She excused herself from the table, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she followed the path you had taken earlier to the bathroom. And if she hadn’t been staring down every single person in that building like they had done something to hurt you, she wouldn’t have found you against the wall, talking animatedly about something to a guy who stood in front of you. 

Her eyes narrowed, taking a step toward the two of you but was cut off by an eager woman who was holding a pen and a napkin in her hand. Paige tried her best to give her a kind smile, keeping the protectiveness pushed down as she talked, “Hi.”

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt but my niece absolutely adores you, and I was just wondering if I could have your autograph so I could give it to her.”

She let her smile turn genuine as she heard her explanation, nodding and taking the items from the woman’s hand, scribbling her signature across the white napkin before passing it back to her. She sighed softly when she finally left her alone, redirecting her eyes to where you were standing and she swore you had upped the wattage of your smile even more than when she saw you before.

This time, she avoided any more interruptions as she made her way to the two of you, stopping just to the side of you, hands back in her pockets.

Neither of you noticed at first, your mouth still moving faster than your brain could comprehend. He had a small look of fondness in his eyes as he looked at you, nodding along to each word you said. 

You on the other hand, despite talking so happily, had thought you had made it clear that you were the furthest from interested in him. 

You bumped into him on your way out of the bathroom, in the small corridor that split between the men’s and women’s doors. You had caught wind of something he had been saying to his friend, something that you instantly recognized as one of your many hyperfixations and you wasted no time launching into a conversation with him, your tendency to ramble on and on overtook you in seconds. 

You barely registered his hand reaching out to place on your hip, but the soft brush of his fingers against your exposed skin caused you to jump, excitement washing off your expression.

Paige’s protective instincts kicked in, reaching to intercept his second attempt of grabbing you, wrapping her arm around your waist, and glaring at the guy.

She looked down at you, finally tearing her heated stare from him. She softened immediately, squeezing your hip and giving you a lazy smile to make you more comfortable, “Everything okay, ma?”

You were getting a wave of deja vu as she asked the question, the feeling you had earlier coming back. You gave her a hesitant nod, glancing over at the guy who stood there, slightly awe-struck at the sight of you two together.

He gulped nervously when the fire returned to Paige, “You two are dating?”

The blond nodded, pushing you slightly behind her, not wanting you to be in his direct line of sight anymore. However the guy didn’t want to push his luck, between the look on your girlfriend’s face and the weight of eyes from the table across the bar where the team sat, it was enough to have him muttering an apology and practically running off towards another group of girls. 

She waited until he was far enough away from the small corner you were in to turn and look at you, studying your face intently. Despite the scrutiny she had you under, you couldn’t help but smile and relax, peering up at her with what she could call your signature doe eyes, ones that made her want to drop everything and kiss you, bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Did he say something before that? Make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head, still having yet to say a word to her since you left for the bathroom nearing 20 minutes ago at this point. It irked her in the slightest, usually, you were talking her ear off - just like you were doing earlier with that guy - about some new TV show you started watching or a new recipe you found on TikTok, but now she could barely get a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of you.

“Babe you sure he didn’t do anything, because you know I’ll-”

“Paige,” you interrupted, voice soft but firm enough that she shut her mouth as soon as she heard it. 

You rose on your tiptoes, kissing her cheek, “I’m fine. I promise, we were just talking and the touch caught me off guard, it was harmless.”

“Didn’t look harmless. Looked like you were gonna crap your pants.” She grumbled, dropping her hands to her side.

A laugh bubbled out of you and she finally cracked a smile, little but noticeable. She loved making you laugh, it was the easiest thing for her to do but every time she did she felt like she had won the championship, as cheesy as it was. 

“I did not look like that.” 

“Sure you didn’t. I’m positive you would’ve ruined this perfectly good pair of jeans if he said one more thing about- what were you even talking about?”

You turned sheepish as you mumbled out your hyper-fixation to her, causing her to roll her eyes in return.

“Alright, if that conversation continued, I probably would’ve punched him for making you have to get rid of my favorite pair of jeans on you.”

“Paige, stop. I didn’t look like that.” Your protest was whiney and your lips formed a pout as you continued to stare up at her. 

The tiny smile she had widened into a grin as she reached a hand towards your hair, moving it over your shoulder and letting her fingers rest against the back of your neck, thumb grazing your jawline steadily, “You’re right. You looked gorgeous just standing there, baby. You get that glow around you when you ramble.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you knew it had nothing to do with the growing crowd on the dance floor a few feet away from you. The new pink tint to your cheeks only caused Paige to smirk more. She didn’t say anything though, using her other hand to your hip and bringing you impossibly close, your foreheads resting against each other. 

If you were aware of any looks on you before, you weren’t now, every noise and blur of color fading into the background as your eyes bore into hers. 

And the two of you stayed like that for at most 30 seconds but to you two, it felt like hours. You closed your eyes as she let her thumb brush across your cheek, letting whatever stress and uneasiness that lingered go away, a distant memory of the past. 

“I’m always going to be there to protect you, you know that right?”

You hadn’t heard her voice that unsure in a long time, and maybe you were imagining it but when you opened your eyes again, you saw the unmistakable uncertainty on her face. You frowned, “‘course I know that. Would never doubt your possessive nature.”

She scoffed, “I wasn’t being possessive. Just cautious.”

“Oh is that what we’re calling it now?” 

The two of you started to make your way back to the table, her hand intertwining with yours, swinging your arms back and forth. 

��Next time,” she spoke after a beat, voice teasing. “I’m going to the bathroom with you.”

“Not possessive my ass.”  You muttered, but you should’ve known better than to think she wouldn’t hear it because soon her hand did meet your ass, another grin on her face.

꒰ UCONN HUSKIES TAGLIST ꒱

@fantillisgirl

PB5 MASTERLIST ; WBB MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[kquil]

WHY DOESNT THIS HAVE MORE LIKES?!?!!! THATS CRIMINAL!!!! ⁽⁽(੭ꐦ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾ THIS WAS ADORABLE AND BEYOND TOOTH-DECAYING SWEET!

I was hooked from the first paragraph! Forget hooked— I was a GONER!!! (๑♡⌓♡๑)

Darling, the way you write about the innocent love between kids as childhood best friends made me cry and coo all at the same time! You captured their innocence and adorable phrases so well! Like when they were describing what love was and compared it to giving the other person the bigger slice of pie and giving the other a scarf on a cold day and to being best friends forever! AWWWWWW! I CANT! THATS SO CUTEEEEEE! ლ(ಥ益ಥლ)

Childhood best friends to lovers tropes are my favourite and you wrote it so well here ahhhh! I’ll be coming back to this fic so so often, you’ll be sick of me! (๑>◡<๑)

My heart actually broke when the treehouse broke and when we went to James to see him with Lily with a paper ring which was OUR THING — heartbreak central, how could you?! After all that cuteness! I wasn’t prepared! ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ you need to give me cuddles now… as compensation (つಥ﹏ಥ)つ⊂(ಥ﹏ಥ⊂)

But, of course, it’s so easy to forgive James since he never does things by halves and WHAT A ROMANTIC MAKING A PAPER RING FLOAT DOWN LIKE A SNOWFLAKE?!?!!! AHHHHHH! ( /)///(\✿) Where’s my James Potter? ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა I’ve been suffering from lovelessness for too long over here! …at least I have this wonderful fic to tide me over (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

ALSO! NOT, MCGONAGALL BEING A SHIPPER!!! AHHHHHH! I lowkey love it when teachers are just as in on the school gossip and couples as the students ( ≧ᗜ≦)

Thank you thank you thank you for your wonderful writing my darling! This was so healing to read! I loved it so so much omg! I just know I’m going to be reading this hundred more and more times! AHHHH! It has everything I could ever want in a fic! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- mwah mwah mwah! You’re wonderful! Thank you for your time writing this masterpiece! ( ˶˘ ³˘(ˊᗜˋ*)!♡

childhood sweethearts and paper rings ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ james potter x reader where you both realize your love through paper rings

warnings: fluff overload, pining, a sprinkle of angst but resolved quickly, excessive paper rings

word count: 3,438 words

inspired from: (a bit) ➺ paper rings by taylor swift ♡

author's note: childhood best friends to lovers is james potter’s ultimate trope. argue with the wall

navigation┆james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

James Potter was seven years old when he decided that he was going to marry you. He didn’t understand much about marriage—only that it meant you’d be together forever, which sounded like the best thing in the world. After all, you were his best friend, and if forever wasn’t you, then who else could it be for?

The Potters and your family were close friends, and most weekends, you were bundled into the fireplace to floo to their house. James would meet you on the other side, grinning wildly and already tugging your arm to drag you outside. The two of you were inseparable, whether you were building forts in the garden or chasing each other around with toy brooms.

“Sunny, you’re supposed to catch it!” James exclaimed one summer afternoon as he tossed a quaffle your way. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up impatiently.

“I’m trying!” you yelled back, laughing as the ball sailed past your outstretched arms. You were too busy giggling to notice James running to retrieve it. He came back with dirt on his knees and his hair even messier than usual.

“We’ll practice until you’re as good as me,” he declared, puffing out his chest in mock importance.

You scrunched up your nose, sticking your tongue out at him. “What if I don’t want to be good at Quidditch? What if I want to be the best cake-eater in the world?”

James grinned, his own cheeks turning pink. “Then I’ll be the second-best. We can do it together.”

By the time you were eight, James had discovered the fine art of crafting paper rings. It started when he saw his mum making origami flowers for a party. Naturally, he wasn’t allowed near the good parchment—but his dad handed him some scraps, and the rest was history.

The first paper ring James gave you was lopsided, crumpled at the edges, and had a faint ink smudge from where he’d tried to draw a flower on it. You’d accepted it with wide, delighted eyes, slipping it onto your finger like it was made of gold.

“What’s this for?” you’d asked, holding it up to inspect the crooked folds.

“It’s…” James hesitated, suddenly bashful. “It’s a promise. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be there for you.”

You grinned so brightly he thought his chest might burst. “I’ll always be there for you too, Jamie!” you chirped, and the name stuck, much to his parents’ amusement.

At nine, you and James built a treehouse. Or at least, you started to. James had insisted on using magic, and after much begging and wheedling, his mum had charmed a few planks of wood into place.

“It’ll be our secret hideout,” James said as you hammered nails into the rickety ladder.

“For what?” you asked, holding the ladder steady. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and there was a streak of mud on your cheek, but you couldn’t have been happier.

“For… secret plans,” James decided. “Like how we’ll sneak extra pudding without anyone noticing.”

You beamed. “And maybe we can put all the paper rings here too. Like a treasure chest!”

He thought that was the best idea ever.

By ten, James had made you more paper rings than either of you could count. Some were decorated with little doodles, others with clumsy attempts at flowers or hearts. You kept them all in a shoebox under your bed, treasuring them like the precious artifacts they were.

One rainy afternoon, you and James sat cross-legged on the rug in his room, watching the droplets streak down the window.

“Sunny,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you know what love is?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Not really. I think it’s when someone makes you really happy. Like my mum when she bakes my favorite cookies.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I think it’s when someone does things for you. Like… like when you gave me the bigger half of your pie last week.”

You grinned, your toothy smile making his cheeks heat up. “Then I think love is when you gave me your scarf when I was cold.”

He grinned back, lopsided and bright. “Maybe love is when we’re best friends forever.”

When you turned eleven, everything began to change. A letter arrived, delivered by an official-looking owl, and James practically dragged you across the room to celebrate.

“We’re going to Hogwarts together!” he exclaimed, lifting you off the ground in his excitement. “This is going to be the best year ever!”

You squealed, clutching onto him as he spun you around. “Jamie, I’m so excited!”

Later that day, he gave you another paper ring. It was neater this time, folded carefully with gold-trimmed parchment he’d begged off his mum.

“This one’s special,” James said solemnly as you slipped it onto your finger.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because it’s the last one before Hogwarts,” he said. “But I’ll make you loads more when we’re there.”

You beamed, clutching the ring to your chest. “Best friends forever?”

“Forever,” he promised.

And that was the thing about James Potter. Even when he didn’t fully understand what love was, he knew one thing: it was always going to be you.

At Hogwarts, you quickly became part of the infamous Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and you. Whether it was sneaking into the kitchens for late-night snacks or plotting pranks on the Slytherins, the five of you were inseparable.

James had a knack for getting the group into trouble, and you had a knack for talking your way out of it.

“It’s not my fault Snape looks so funny when his robes turn pink,” James argued one day, as you all hid in an empty classroom after a particularly successful prank.

“You used an entire bottle of dye,” Remus pointed out dryly, though he was biting back a smile.

“Totally worth it,” Sirius said, high-fiving James.

Peter chuckled nervously. “Do you think he’ll ever figure out it was us?”

“Who cares?” you said, laughing. “Jamie, you’re brilliant.”

James beamed at your praise, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face.

But while James was fearless in most things, there was one subject that turned him into a bumbling mess: Lily Evans, although you understood the feeling, cause she was gorgeous.

“Merlin’s beard, just look at her,” James sighed dreamily one afternoon as the five of you sat under a tree by the Black Lake. Lily was a few yards away, reading a book and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re staring again,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

James turned red. “I am not!”

“You absolutely are,” Sirius chimed in, smirking. “If you’re going to pine, at least do it with some dignity, Prongs.”

“I’m not pining!” James protested, though his voice cracked slightly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You drew a heart with her initials in your Transfiguration notes yesterday.”

“I did not!” James said, horrified.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “You did. I saw it too.”

You burst out laughing, leaning into James as he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Jamie, it’s okay to have a crush. Especially if it's on Evans. I do too but the difference is you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“You lot are the worst,” he muttered, though he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Despite the relentless teasing, you were always James’ biggest supporter. When he finally worked up the courage to ask Lily out in your fifth year, you were the one who gave him the pep talk beforehand.

“You’re James Potter,” you said firmly, gripping his shoulders. “You’re charming, funny, and completely brilliant. If she doesn’t say yes, it’s her loss.”

James smiled nervously. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you said confidently.

And even though a small part of you felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name, you pushed it aside. Because James was your best friend, and you’d always be there for him—just like he’d always be there for you.

It happened gradually, so slowly that you didn’t notice at first. The paper rings, once a constant in your life, became fewer and fewer. By sixth year, they stopped altogether. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, you and James were still thick as thieves. He was busy with Quidditch, the Marauders, and his relentless pursuit of Lily Evans.

But deep down, you missed them.

Then one day, an owl from your parents arrived during breakfast in the Great Hall. You tore open the envelope eagerly, only to feel your stomach drop as you read the letter.

The treehouse at the Potters burned down.

Your chest ached as you reread the words. The treehouse, your secret hideout, the place where you’d kept all the paper rings James had ever given you—gone. Reduced to ashes.

You left the Great Hall in a daze, clutching the letter as tears blurred your vision. It wasn’t just a treehouse. It was years of memories, laughter, and promises that now felt lost forever. You needed to tell James. He would understand.

You found him in the courtyard, a broad grin on his face as he spoke animatedly to Lily. She was laughing, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, and for a moment, you hesitated.

Then you saw it: a paper ring in his hand. Your heart clenched painfully as he turned it over in his fingers, showing it to Lily with the same excitement he’d once reserved for you.

You felt a lump form in your throat. It was silly, really. You’d known for years that James fancied Lily. You’d encouraged him, teased him, supported him. And yet, seeing him with a paper ring—your paper ring—meant for her…

It felt like losing a part of yourself.

You turned on your heel and walked away before he could see you, the letter crumpled in your hand. As you hurried back to the common room, you tried to push the image from your mind, but it clung stubbornly.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Maybe Lily had finally agreed to a date. Maybe the ring wasn’t even for her. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But the ache in your chest told a different story.

You didn’t sleep much that night. The weight of the treehouse’s destruction—and the memories it held—pressed heavily on your chest. When morning came, you dragged yourself to breakfast, your usual bubbly demeanor dimmed.

James was already there, sitting with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, recounting some Quidditch play. He caught sight of you as you approached, and his grin faltered.

“Morning, sunny,” he greeted, nudging the bench beside him. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

You plopped down next to him, twisting the edge of your sleeve. “James… the..the treehouse, it burned down.”

His face froze, confusion quickly giving way to shock. “What?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

You handed him the crumpled letter. He read it, his expression shifting to heartbreak. “Our treehouse? The one we built with my mum’s old cushions and all the fairy lights?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “All the paper rings… they were in there, James.”

For a moment, he just stared at the letter. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like they used to when you were kids, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the familiar scent of parchment and pine comfort you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t think—I didn’t realize—”

You missed the way his breath hitched, his soft oh of realization. Missed the quick glance he threw across the table to Lily, whose knowing gaze met his. Her lips curled into the faintest smile, as if she understood something neither of you had quite pieced together yet.

But you were too caught up in the hug, too lost in your own heartbreak to notice anything else.

James Potter was not one to do things halfway. The moment he realized how much those paper rings had meant to you, he made it his mission to bring them back into your life in abundance. It started small—a single paper ring folded neatly and tucked into your Potions book during class.

“James,” you whispered, holding it up with an amused smile. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Trouble’s my middle name,” he whispered back, grinning mischievously before turning back to Slughorn’s lecture like he hadn’t just slid a tiny masterpiece of folded parchment into your life.

But James Potter didn’t stop at small. Soon, the paper rings started appearing everywhere. One in your bag during Transfiguration. Another tucked into your scarf at breakfast. A stack of them slid under your pillow one night. He even charmed one to float down from the owlery like a paper snowflake as you walked past.

The grandest moment came during Defense Against the Dark Arts. James, thinking he was being discreet, crept over to your desk mid-lecture to slip a particularly colorful ring onto your parchment. Just as he leaned down, a shadow loomed over both of you.

“Ahem,” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through the room like a knife. The class went silent, every head swiveling to witness James Potter caught red-handed.

James straightened, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Just delivering a very important piece of classwork, Professor,” he said smoothly, holding up the paper ring as if it were a prized essay.

McGonagall’s lips twitched, though she worked hard to suppress a smile. “Very well, Mr. Potter. But if I catch you again, you’ll be writing lines until your quill runs out of ink.”

“Yes, Professor,” James said solemnly, though his wink to Sirius betrayed him.

As McGonagall turned back to the blackboard, you swore you saw her glance over her shoulder and wink—wink—at you. For a moment, you questioned your sanity.

By the end of the week, you had more paper rings than you knew what to do with. You didn’t have the heart to throw them away—not after all the effort James had gone to—so you started collecting them in an old chocolate box you found in your dorm.

Every night, you added the day’s rings to the collection, tracing your fingers over the creases and folds as you smiled to yourself. It was ridiculous, really. They were just bits of paper, after all. But each one felt like a tiny promise—a reminder of a boy who made the world brighter simply by being in it.

It was another morning at the Gryffindor table, and James was unusually quiet. Normally, he’d be drumming his fingers on the table, bantering with Sirius, or laughing at something Peter said. But today, he was poking at his eggs, lost in thought.

Remus noticed first. Of course, he did. “You haven’t mentioned Lily in a while,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened? Did she finally hex you into silence?”

Sirius barked a laugh, and Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice. But James just shrugged, looking nonchalant.

“Oh, yeah, about that,” he said casually, as if he weren’t about to drop a bombshell. “Well… that’s not happening.”

Your fork clattered onto your plate. “Really?” you blurted, a little too loudly. You immediately ducked your head, heat rushing to your cheeks.

James smirked, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous one—it was softer, more thoughtful. “Yeah, she kind of pointed out that I might have feelings for someone else.”

The table went silent. Even Sirius, who rarely let anything keep him quiet for long, was staring at James in surprise.

“And?” Remus prompted, leaning forward like he already knew the answer.

“And I realized… she was right,” James admitted, his voice quieter now.

“Oh,” you said softly, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah,” James said, turning to look at you with a curious expression. “It is.”

For a moment, his hazel eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out if you knew what he meant—if you felt the same.

But before he could say anything else, Sirius, who clearly couldn’t handle the suspense, interrupted with a loud, “So, who’s the lucky person, Prongs? Don’t leave us hanging!”

James flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he grabbed a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering something unintelligible.

“Oh, come on,” Sirius teased, elbowing him. “Out with it, mate!”

But James just shook his head, laughing nervously. “Not telling,” he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

The conversation shifted after that, Sirius dragging Peter into a heated debate about whether or not owls secretly judged their owners, and you found yourself staring at your plate, your thoughts spinning.

You didn’t know what to make of James’ words. Who was he talking about? Was it someone you knew? Was it… you?

You glanced at James out of the corner of your eye. He was laughing now, teasing Peter about his messy handwriting, but there was something different about him—something softer.

You pushed the thought away. It couldn’t be you. Could it?

The Owlery was quiet, save for the soft hoots of the owls roosting in their perches. You had just tied your letter to your parents onto a barn owl’s leg, stroking its feathers as it took off into the morning light. Beside you, James was doing the same, his handwriting as messy as ever but filled with his usual warmth and charm.

As his owl soared into the sky, you lingered by the ledge, watching the horizon. James leaned beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the kind that came with years of friendship. But you couldn’t stop thinking about breakfast, about what he’d said, and about the way he’d looked at you.

“So,” you started, your voice soft, “this… someone else you might have feelings for.”

James froze, his hands gripping the stone ledge. “Oh,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “That.”

You turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, that.”

James rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Right. Well…” He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” you asked, taking a step closer.

He glanced at you then, his hazel eyes searching yours. “Because, well because it’s you,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, delicate and trembling. You stared at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah,” James said, his cheeks flushing pink. “It’s always been you, I think. I just… didn’t realize it until Lily pointed it out. And then when I thought about it—about us—it just made sense, you know? You’ve always been there. You’ve always been you.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “James…”

“I know it might be weird,” he said quickly, misinterpreting your silence. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just thought you should know, because I—”

“I feel the same,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

He blinked at you, his mouth hanging open. “You do?”

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “I do.”

For a moment, James just stared at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curled into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“Brilliant,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You laughed, the sound light and bubbly, and he joined in, his joy infectious. Before you knew it, he was stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

“I, uh, don’t have a proper ring,” he said, his voice nervous but warm. “But…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar folded strip of parchment.

Your breath hitched as he gently slipped the paper ring onto your finger, his touch lingering. “There,” he said, his smile soft and a little shy. “Perfect.”

You looked down at the ring, your chest swelling with warmth. It was so James—simple, sweet, and utterly wonderful.

“Perfect,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you looked up, he was already watching you, his hazel eyes filled with something so soft and tender it made your knees weak.

“Does this mean you’re stuck with me?” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“Forever, if you’ll have me,” James said, grinning.

And as the owls cooed above and the sunlight bathed the two of you in gold, you knew you would. Forever and always.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[jmflowers]

yeah, hunker in our bunker {carla connor x lisa swain}

happy birthday, camila 27 january 2025

[revelboo]

I’m officially addicted to your fics. May I request an update to TFP Shockwave’s story? 💜

Sure!

Point of Extinction Pt 11

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Head lifting guiltily from where you’re absolutely not doodling stick figure Shockwaves that are pretty much a cube head with rabbit ears, a rectangle for his giant mech-tit-whatever it is he has going on there, and stick legs. And his antenna go back the second he spots you, pointedly looking everywhere but at you. Which, considering his default mode is staring for an uncomfortably long time and barely speaking, puts you on edge. “Everything okay?” And how do you erase the screen? Especially now that you’re realizing his cannon doesn’t actually look like a cannon. Why had you drawn it like that? At a loss, you sit on the screen.

• Everything is needlessly complicated now. Not okay as you put it. Because Megatron had been playing with his human and hadn’t bothered to stop when he’d tried to report his research findings. And he keeps thinking about it against his will. About the sounds that human had made, the way they’d moved against Megatron’s servo. Wondering what sounds you’d make. “Thirteen, do you interface for pleasure or only to breed?” He asks and your little mouth falls open. Making him suspect he’s been neglecting your needs.

• What? There’s no understanding how his weird processor works, but that’s the last question you expected. And wary of him misunderstanding any way you answer him, your eyes narrow as his head tips, antenna still back. “Why do you want to know?” Because no matter what led him to that question, you’re probably not going to like it. What’s going on in that head of his? ‘Could provide a human to interface with if required for-’ Lurching to your feet in alarm, because you don’t want him kidnapping some random person thinking you need a fuck buddy to be happy. “No!” Antennae flicking, he begins tapping his cannon against a thigh in agitation. “No, we don’t do that with strangers, okay? We need to know someone, trust them.”

• Ah. Intimacy only with trusted individuals and that eases tension he hadn’t even realized was bracketing his frame. Realizing he didn’t want you to agree or to have to watch you couple with someone else. “Understood,” he rumbles, reaching to touch a servo to your soft head. He’s not had need for a holoform before, so he’ll need to format one. Or perhaps mass shift. Shouldn’t be curious at all about how you’d feel wrapped around his spike. Servo shifting to tip your chin up, that warmth he can’t quite pin down spreads through him when you lay a soft hand on him. “I will tend to your needs, then.”

• What now? “No,” you blurt and his antenna go back. “What I mean is thank you for the um, very kind offer.” He’s just staring at you. How does he even think that would work? “But I’m good.” Sometimes you really hate his lack of face, you’re pretty sure you’re probably offending him, though. And you don’t even care about the stick figure with the dick cannon, because this is so much worse. He’s so damn serious about it, head tipping like he does when you swear he’s thinking about dissecting you. “I promise I’ll keep it in mind, though,” you add weakly.

Previous

[meadowfics]

I was wondering if you write about plus size reader, if yes then would you write about husband Jun -ho and a plus size wife reader smut (maybe with breeding kink)

If not it's fine

Btw love your fics 🫶

the more the merrier

hwang jun-ho x f!plussize!reader

your husband loves you, and wants to start a family with you

warnings: SMUT!!! nsfw!!! 18+. minors do not interact. praise, breeding kink, squirting, one use of "sir" towards jun-ho, unprotected p in v, praise from jun-ho.

jun-ho always makes it a point to compliment you every single day, no matter how small the moment might seem.

whether you're lounging around in your comfy clothes, dressed up for a rare night out, or even just waking up with your hair a mess, he finds a way to remind you how beautiful you are.

“you look so beautiful, did I tell you that today?”

he says one evening as you’re pulling on a hoodie that’s a size too big for you.

you pause, halfway through pulling it down over your stomach

“you always say that.”

“because it’s always true,”

he replies, stepping closer to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“besides, i like this hoodie on you. looks better on you than it ever would on me.”

he’s a touchy husband..always holding your hand, rubbing circles on your thigh when you’re sitting next to him, or pulling you into his lap when you’re watching tv.

he knows you sometimes feel self-conscious about your body when it comes to him picking you up or pulling you onto his lap,

however, the man is a police officer!! the man has more than enough muscle to love on all of you.

he’s never shy about showing how much he loves every part of you.

which is how you ended up in this position that you are in right now.

you're on all fours, your plump ass repeatedly meeting jun-ho's hips as your pussy fully engulfs his length.

"fuck!"

you moan, slamming your into the pillow as jun-ho hits all of the right spots inside.

the police officer's big hands rest on your hips, occasionally moving them to push your upper half back down on the bed if you break your arch.

"you feel so fucking good ahhh.."

jun-ho groans, moving his leg to hit a deeper spot inside of you.

"don't stop!"

you moan, clenching and unclenching around his cock, feeling your high coming.

"I-- fuck--don't plan to, love. this pussy is so wet."

he clenches his teeth, feeling himself twitch.

as he feels his high coming, jun-ho remembers the conversation that you both had about starting a family.

the both of you were ready, he was settled into his detective work and you were doing great with your career as well.

"can I come inside?"

jun-ho leans over, his front pressed against your back.

the sight of your eyes rolled back, your ass smacking against his cock, and your mouth hung open nearly made him cum right there and then..

"puh--please, sir."

jun-ho smirks,

"you want me to put a baby in you?"

the man decides to tease.

he groans as your clench around his cock, loving his dirty talk in bed.

"yes, yes p--fuck--put a baby in me!"

you moan loudly, almost in a pornographic harmony.

jun-ho fully paints your walls white and you squirt at the same time.

the man continues to hold the flesh on your hips as you both came down from your highs.

he pumped inside of you until he overstimulated himself..

you got pregnant <3

masterlist

thank you for the compliment I hope you loved this anon <3

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Okay!!! So I love dae ho because he's like the sweetest guy ever and if he dies I will kms. But I was wondering if you could make an X reader where the reader has a bubbly personality and shares food with dae ho. I just think that would be so adorable. And it can be gender neutral I don't mind!!! Thank you!!! Have a good day!!

Food for Thought?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- Just as the request asks, Reader and Dae-Ho share food after one of the games, rekindling. Perchance someone is asked out >:)

Warnings- Squid Games, murder, and death

A/N- I know I have been MIA for a while, I'm so sorry guys! It's been difficult to write lately, especially with my schedule. I hope this one delivers, and hold you guys over until the next fic!

Word Count- 1,047

"What'cha thinking?" You ask player 388 as you flopped down next to him on a bed. He was sat at the edge, nervously picking at his food.

His head jerked up at your sudden movement, but he softened upon seeing your smile. You didn't blame him for being twitchy. The last game was a close one... Mingle would have left you for dead if Dae-Ho hadn't grabbed you last second for '2'.

"Ah, not much."

------------------------------------------

The door let out a noise as the lock clicked. The two of you were safe... "Dae-Ho... You saved me!" You gave him no time to think, you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. A thankful hug that lasted longer than 'friends' would have let it.

His own arms wrapped around you waist, he held you tight. You could practically feel his heart rate beat against you. His heart was racing, as was yours. The two of you stood together, bodies pressed against each other's.

"Thank you..." You whispered in his neck. When you heard the voice announce '2', you panicked thinking Dae-Ho had went with Jun-Hee. But he didn't, he ran from behind you and grasped your forearm. You had no choice but to run with him.

He nodded back in response, you felt his head move. At that you pulled back. Just enough to see his face, but keep your arms around his neck.

------------------------------------------

You sat criss-crossed on your legs, turned to face him. "Oh come on, I can see it on your face. Your mind must be running so fast."

He continued to pick at his food, a complete opposite from any other meal time. He was always the first to finish, eager to eat.

"How about this," You sat up straight, ready to present your idea. You pretended to 'set the scene' pushing your hands out. You dramatically looked around, then leaned in close to him.

"I will offer your ONE of my gimbap rolls, if you tell me..." You side-eyed him, waiting for his response.

You could tell he was fighting a smile, but he shook his head. "No way, only one? That's like one bite for someone like me!"

With a laugh and raised eyebrows, "Someone like you? What's that supposed to mean." You asked, comically.

He 'Hmphed' and raised up his sleeve. "A marine! We need good food, and lots of it to stay bulked."

A loud laugh left your lips, and you quickly covered it with your hands. A smirk and a shake of your head later, you found yourself pretending to think. A finger on your chin, humming, the whole shebang. "Fine, TWO rolls. That's my final offer." You crossed your arms, looking serious.

He simply grinned and eyed you, holding eye contact. You blinked, but he continued to stare. Your shoulders dropped. "Three?"

The sides of his lips turned up into a full smile now, "Deal, but I get to eat first!" You raised a fist in triumph, "Okay, okay!"

You unwrapped the tinfoil on your gimbap, opening it so the two of you could share. Ironically, he ignored his own wrap and reached for one of your rolls first. He delicately picked it up, but didn't eat it.

He instead raised it to your lips, "Dae-Ho it's for you." You giggled out.

"Hey, you never said I had to eat it. Here, you need it just as much as I do." You couldn't fight him, and simply took a bite from the piece he had. You laughed with a full mouth as you tried to pick up any falling crumbs.

He shoved the rest of the roll into his mouth, but not before joining your laugh.

"Ugh, I'm a mess sorry." He shook his head at your words, "No, no you're really not..." His words were sweet laced and genuine.

He again looked into your eyes, but it wasn't playful anymore. It was lovingly, in admiration. Your cheeks began to ache with how big you were smiling. Your face must have been beet red.

"So, hows it taste?" He asked. "Uh, Kinda dry if I'm being honest.." He only snorted, agreeing.

The two of you went on like that, practically feeding each other Gimbap. You even managed to sneak a roll or two from his own wrap. He noticed, but didn't mind.

You both joked and teased each other, nothing but carefree conversation. He seemed much more relaxed and happier.

You were unaware that you had moved closer to him, your sides touching now. It was comforting.

At the last bite, Dae-Ho swiped his hands together, clapping them to get any left seasoning off. With a sigh, he slouched down slightly.

"Dae-Ho we don't need to talk about it if you don't want to..." You didn't want to intrude, truly it was none of your business.

"No, its okay. I guess I was just thinking about what I'm going to do after all this. Assuming, ya know, we get out of here." His grim comment made your body give a shiver.

"Well, what are your plans?" You pressed further, now more interested.

He fiddled with his fingers, "It's stupid." he shook his idea away. "No, whatever it is- its not."

Nodding, he responded. "Well, I'd probably finally get up the courage to ask someone out. A nice place, though I'd most likely still make a fool of myself. I just want to make someone feel special." He laughed his own remark off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You'd be perfect, Dae-Ho. That sounds so lovely.. Who's this lucky person?" You had butterflies in your stomach, hoping and wishing that person was you.

His head slowly rose to look at you, his blush darkened. Your grin widened. "Of course I'd go out with you, the first day we get out of here, i'm all yours..."

"Really?" His hands quickly held yours, though still lightly.

"Yes really, you're the sweetest guy I've ever met Dae-Ho.." His grip tightened.

"I promise, if we get out of here I'll give you the best date ever.." He was giddy just thinking about it, now planning what exotic places to take you and show you off.

"When, when we get out of here." You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

A/N- Not my fav post about him, but I enjoyed writing it! I will try my very hardest to get a Nam-Gyu fic out this week as well! Please lmk if it felt rushed, or if you have any tips for me!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven @ashgonedash @plntmxrss @blueberry--lemon @kisara-16 @meiisamotherbitch @fallout-girl219 @takuma-talkz @sshwaa @galactict3a @skeeterbutt @ashiinxq

[glasvera]

Fool Me Once...

Loki x GN!Reader

Description: You've been sent on a covert mission to distract the God of Mischief himself long enough to foil his plans. Unfortunately, this task becomes much harder when your target proves incredibly disarming.

Continues in ...Shame on You

Warnings/Disclaimers: Nothing, really. Gender neutral reader, reader is an expert in covert operations and deception.

A/N: Whaaaat!? It's not another Adam Warlock fic???? Yeah, that's right. I've got range. Sometimes. I swear. I do intend on making at least one more chapter to this, but figured I'd use this as a way to gauge interest in the idea.

Word Count: 1.2k

You had an impossible task on your hands: distract the god of mischief himself long enough for your compatriots to destroy the base of operations for the Yggdrasil tapping devices. The method was left up to you. 

Making it into the palace had been the easy part. The right whispers into the right guard’s ear, a turn around the right alley, and Yggsgard had itself one less conscious citizen. At least you had covered them with a nearby tapestry after divesting them of their uniform. It was a little loose, but it would have to do.

The key to gaining access to restricted areas is to simply act as though you belong there. You strut along, head held high with your pilfered weapon at your side, and no one bats an eye. A friendly nod here and there, which you are good enough to reciprocate, but otherwise, you make it through undetected.

The mission’s window was ultimately indeterminate. Instead, the follow-through hinged upon your discretion and signal.

Put simply, you had all the time in the world to do what you do best.

You settle into your new routine, falling into step alongside your fellow guards and performing your daily patrols. A wave of your hand here, a forged document there, and after day three you were assigned every detail that could get you closest to your target. You knew what you were looking for: golden horns, garbed in the finest green and blue silks, adorned in even more gold.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t expected him to have the regal face and features to match. 

Still, you had a mission to accomplish. And even sooner still, one of Loki’s personal servants had mysteriously vanished. Tragic, really. Whispers float down the gilded hallways of a terrible illness or some other horrible thing that might be keeping them away from the palace, but it seemed easily accepted among the rest of the staff. Perhaps that should worry you more than it does, but as long as it makes your job smoother, so be it.

And what a wonder that the most recent guard addition finds themselves promoted to private attendant?

Ironically enough, it was a much more grueling position than guard duty ever was. Loki was quite the demanding and particular sort. He wasn’t necessarily quick to anger, but he was certainly quick to irritate.

“No, no, not like that at all! Did your mother never teach you how to brush hair? The absolute indignance of today’s youth…” he complains after you accidentally snag a gilded comb in the bed-headed tangles of his raven locks. He was always worse just after waking, though you suppose most people were when you really thought about it.

“A thousand apologies, my lord,” you offer with a bow of your head. At least he can’t see you roll your eyes at him that way. He simply scoffs and waves his hand, allowing you to continue more gently this time.

“Ah, well… at least you’re pretty enough to look upon,” he says nonchalantly. “I’ve always had a weakness for the pretty ones. Like looking in a mirror,” he adds with a mirthful twinkle in his eye.

You shouldn’t feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and yet they warm all the same. He notices when the comb halts against his scalp and stares at the ceiling before letting out an exaggerated groan..

“You know, when your god compliments you, the least you could do is thank him for such generosity,” he chastises you with a curled lip. He crosses his arms and glowers at you through the mirror, and for a moment you feel as though he could see right through you.

You clear your throat before your tongue wets your suddenly dry lips, quick to correct your mistake. “R-Right, of course. Thank you, your benevolence.” That tickles him, at least.

“Hah! Benevolence. Yes, I suppose I can be quite benevolent when it suits me,” he jokes, speaking more to himself as he glances at the back of his hand to admire his perfectly trimmed nails. “Yet I prefer to have benevolence acted upon me rather than the other way around. It’s so tiring being nice to people. Don’t you agree?”

You purse your lips into a thin line, biting back the bile rising in your throat as you nod. “I couldn’t agree more, my lord.”

Slowly, Loki closes his eyes and sighs. He catches the wrist that combs through his hair, and you drop the instrument in surprise before it clatters to the tiled floor. He turns and stands from his ornate vanity stool then, capturing your attention, and appraises you thoughtfully. Those emerald eyes seem to bore into your very soul as his lips part curiously. 

You were good at your work. The best. It’s why they hired you in the first place. So why has this one man, this god, rattled you to your very core?

“You seem to be the agreeable sort, don’t you? Good.” His gaze traces along your features, and for a moment you could have sworn they paused at your lips. You find yourself frozen on the spot. He doesn’t hold your wrist tightly at all. In fact, he cradles it gently, brushing his thumb over your pulse point. “But your heart is racing, my dear. Whatever could be causing you such turmoil?”

His voice is charismatic, you’ve learned, and even now his tone is almost flirtatious. But the way he toys with you effortlessly while eyeing you with such scrutiny allows doubt to fester in your mind. What if he’s known your game the whole time?

No… who would ever allow their enemy this close willingly?

Instead you play the part of the blushing maid, letting the half-truths spill from your tongue like a fine mead.

“I-I must apologize, your greatness. I fear I’ve admired you for quite some time, and…” you stammer, quite proud of your performance as you add the pièce de résistance by dramatically averting your gaze in embarrassment.

“Ah… the forbidden attraction,” he purrs, allowing his ego to inflate. Those pearly white teeth of his flash with an almost threatening smile. He leans in and runs his index finger along your jaw, and that does elicit a genuine shiver from you. “It’s only natural, my sweet. That you have such exquisite tastes speaks volumes of your character.”

By the gods, how can this man go from turning you on immensely to making you want to relieve the contents of your stomach in just a few simple words?

He releases his hold on you, satisfied, stepping away to retrieve his fur collared cloak and throwing it over his shoulders with ease. Unsure of what to do, you remain standing in that very spot, awaiting his next commands. Loki shoots you a glance over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Well? Aren’t you going to pick up after yourself?” he chides with a smirk as he kicks the dropped comb towards you.

You find yourself scrambling to grab it then, fumbling a few times at procuring a mostly flat object from off of the floor. This seems to amuse Loki immensely.

“I think I’ll quite enjoy your company. As I said, I do enjoy the pretty ones.”

He chuckles and, with a wave of his cape, departs the room, leaving you stunned and speechless as the clacking of his golden heels disappears down the hallway.

[isagispuzzle]

HEYYYY CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! I was wondering about if you could make an " accidentally falling asleep on his shoulder" like in the subway, the bus... Idk. I don't think I need to say this since I always tell you, but I LOOOVEREE your fics sm😭 fav tumblr writer they are always adorable

SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT and thank you so much for all the support you've given!! i love to read the replies you leave on my posts, i hope you enjoy reading this one too!

despite his soft, flowy hair and his gentle features, chigiri is nothing but steel-hearted and feisty. he gets impatient easily, and doesn't let it slide when others cross his boundaries. he's the type to tell the waiter when they get his order wrong—nicely, of course, and he's the type to stand up against the childish boys who picked on you when you were younger.

which is exactly why he became your best friend, the one you turn your brain off around because you trust him with your life. while others may find such reliance burdensome or tiring, chigiri loves it. with you around, he feels important, and when others see how you're able to depend on chigiri, they stop treating him like a delicate princess.

it's pretty funny, because what they see isn't even all of it. they see chigiri carrying your bags, tying your shoelaces, and picking up snacks for you, but they don't see your contact at the top of his favourites, the released tension in your shoulders when you hold his hand in a crowded place, or the note full of all your favourite things in his phone. they don't see that behind your immense trust in chigiri is his unwavering trust that no one else out there can treat you as well as he does.

so when you fall asleep against chigiri's back while he's cycling you home from his place, he secures your arms around his waist and slows down. he feels your warmth seep through his thin t shirt, made worse by the warm summer air, and he revels in it. even after years of having you by his side, these reminders of your unbreakable bond and little touches still send his heart racing. he's so thankful that you're fast asleep, because god forbid you hear how loudly his heart was pounding in his chest.

chigiri teases you for falling asleep even on a moving bike when you wake up right outside your door. you laugh it off and thank him for sending you home, and it's only when you glance at the clock in your room that you realise over an hour has passed since you left chigiri's house, even though it's just a fifteen minute journey.

[pencil-n-pen]

here after reading your Spencer Reid fic. I was wondering if you could write Spencer x autistic!reader where r gets overstimulated and basically having a meltdown and Spencer like helps her ig? Idk if that makes since, but thank you!!

BUZZ

masterlist

anon you have no idea how excited i was to see this ask. i even showed my bestie. thank you sm for the ask !!

summary: police precincts are overwhelming. Spencer knows just how to help :)

cw: detailed depictions of a sensory overload, hurt/comfort

this is pretty short, sorry !!

i am autistic and will be drawing on my own autistic experiences and what helps me during meltdowns :)

۫ ꣑ৎ

The lights are buzzing.

It’s hard to ignore. The policeman/detective/whoever he is who’s filling the team in on the case smacks his lips in between sentences. This is equally hard to ignore.

The tag on your neck has moved up from a small itch to what feels like a small stab everytime you move your head.

The muscles in your neck jump and twitch in the urge to shake— to firmly overcompensate for the feeling, to establish equilibrium.

But you know where that goes. One shake becomes two, and then everyone’s looking at the FBI agent having “some sort of fit”. You squeeze your hand until your nails dig scarlet crescents into your palms and focus on the pain instead.

But it doesn’t work. The lights are still buzzing, and the guy has stopped talking but now everyone else is talking and it’s louder and all the conversations sound like the same volume, all digging sharp claws into your brain, right under your scalp.

Your entire body itches— absolutely writhes with the feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong, too much.

Your hands twitch and jerk at your sides. You’re to focused on stopping the rest of your body to stop them and it hits you all at once that you have to get out.

But you don’t know where you are in this precinct and you don’t know where to go to find quiet and not the bathrooms because what if someone flushes the toilet and did you bring your earbuds you can’t remember it’s loud and you have to get away—

A tall figure steps in front of you, effectively cutting off your field of vision save for a specific pattern of dark maroon gingham. It’s a button down, and a black tie, and a grey suit jacket.

Your skin itches marginally less now that you can’t see anything, and then large, careful hands slot in place over your ears, applying pressure just shy of hurting.

With the sound gone, or at least muffled, your lungs don’t feel quite as constricted, and your body feels less like an open, raw nerve.

You suck in a careful breath, and then another, and then another until you think you can probably pass for normal now.

You tap Spencer’s arm once, and slowly, as to not shock your rattled brain, takes his hands away from your ears.

“I have your earbuds. Do you want to go to their secondary briefing room? It’s nice. I scoped it out.”

He leans down when he says it, eyes searching your face but not making eye contact. He’s mentally cataloging your expressions to see if you’re still upset. You’re familiar with this process by now.

“Yeah,” You force the words out of your mouth like pulling teeth and he frowns a little. He always knows when you overcompensate.

He takes your right hand in his, squeezing intermittently to keep your focus on him and leads you through the precinct, expression and body language stating very clearly:

Stay away.

You stare at your shoes the entire time he leads you to the briefing room, skin prickling at the idea of how many people saw your not-well-concealed freakout.

You should’ve found this room faster, so you could’ve been alone and no one would have seen—

“Stop beating yourself up.”

You snap your head up to glare at him. “Stop profiling me.”

He’s standing next to you, still not trying to make eye contact, though your hand remains firmly in his.

He shakes his head, then reaches into his pocket and produces a pair of earbuds.

Emphasis on a pair, not your pair.

You stare at where they lie innocently in the palm of his hands. “Those aren’t mine. Mine have a chip right there from when I dropped them getting out of the car.”

“I saw a pair when I was out the other day so I got them. So you’d have a backup. They’re the exact same make and model.”

You blink, unable to tear your eyes away from them.

He bought them. For you. Because sometimes you forget your earbuds and can’t get to them in time. Because he knows you prefer earbuds bc they’re more casual and subtle than noise cancelling headphones. He bought them.

He pushes them towards you again, and you give in, because who can say no to that? It’s easy from then to plug them into your phone and start up the playlist of music you have saved for these specific situations.

He steers you to one of the tables in the back, turning the lights off as he goes, and tucks you both, side by side, into the two chairs in the furthest, quietest corner.

His hand never leaves yours.

ʚɞ

[g1rld1ary]

Hello ml, i have binged all of your lifeguard!james series and wondered if the could be in a country bar with cowboy hats and low jeans or dressed as cowboys for Halloween ( not purposely matching ) I can see reader being all hot and bothered about james in overalls no shirt and a cowboy hat. Dont feel like you have to but i love these sm

- Hannah xx

lifeguard!james potter x fem!reader (COWBOY EDITION)

prev

wc: 1949

cw: hornyyyy, alcohol

me: i am FERAL for this ask like absolutely UNHINGED girl i loved it sososo much and i really hope you do too!!!! watched footloose as research and if anyone wants more cowboy/footloose content PLS just shoot me an ask or request because the obsession is back in full force. thank u so much for reading!!! <3

ALSO!! this is my 1 yr anniversary fic!!!!!! felt right to be my boy lifeguard!james because im crazy for him <3 thank u sososo much to everyone who's ever read and interacted with my fics i love u all soso much and am grateful for u all every day <333

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“shh, hurry up!” lily giggled as you snuck out her window, snorting as you landed heavily in the bush underneath. you flipped her off as you wiped the arse of your low-rise jeans, hopping over to marlene’s old car and sliding through the open window.

“are we picking up the boys?” you asked, taking the beer bottle offered by mary from the back seat.

“you mean are we picking up james?” marlene said with a sing-song trill and you turned out to the window to hide your smile.

“that’s not what i asked, was it?”

it was only a half-hour drive to the next town over, where your real favourite pastime lived. lounging by the public pool was fun and all, but nothing compared to maverick’s. maverick’s was a classic country bar, and the last saturday of every month was all-ages line-dancing all night. you went without fail.

you loved the atmosphere of the bar, the music, the crowds, the fashion. everyone dressed to the nines in cowboy attire, hats and boots dominating your eye line, though your group was no different.

you’d perfectly tailored your outfit to fit in with the crowd of dancers. skin-tight low-rise denim sandwiched between red cowboy boots and a red flannel just a size too small, tied up tight under the curve of your breasts.

“fuck!” you moaned, running your hands down your face as the girls all turned to look, “i forgot my hat!” the girls all burst out laughing, relieved there wasn’t an actual emergency.

“just come dance already,” lily grabbed you by the hand, leading you out to the big wood dance floor. you followed with no hesitation.

everything felt better when you were dancing. there were no worries, nothing to think about, no sadness or boredom to wallow in. when you were dancing, there was just music. just joy.

the song ended as if on cue, right when the gimmicky saloon doors swung open to four figures. you, however, were only staring at one.

james potter had never looked sexier. you said that every time you saw him, but this time it was really the truth. cowboy boots with washed denim overalls being the only thing covering his broad expanse of chest. on top of his dark messy curls rested a leather cowboy hat.

you could have sworn your legs should have been strong from dancing but your knees grew weak at the sight, mouth practically watering as you drank in the man before you. you laughed but were secretly grateful when mary jokingly supported your weight.

the boys sauntered over to you, all clearly feeling themselves in their cowboy getups — even remus looked confident in his double denim.

“hello there,” marlene crowed, laughing as they all did little spins to show off their outfits.

another song started and all your conversation was forgotten in favour of dancing, not wanting to waste the night you’d waited all month for. as each of your friends found their own space to move, james slotted in by your side.

“so you do this every month?” he asked, nervously looking around to see what other people were doing.

“every month,” you affirmed, already feeling yourself getting lost in the music.

“what am i supposed to do?” you could hear the rising panic in james’ voice as the choreography began to pick up, “i’ve never learnt these steps, how does everyone know them?” you couldn’t help but laugh at handsome, cool, lifeguard james potter freaking out because he didn’t know some dance steps. you laid a hand on his bicep to calm him down (and because it looked irresistible in the low light of the bar).

“the trick is not to worry — if you look closely, sirius hasn’t done a single right step this whole time, he’s just confident about it.”

james took your advice and you could see him starting to loosen up, which brought a pretty smile to his lips. he still looked to you for a guide of what direction to be travelling in, but you liked watching him have fun with it and laugh through all his stumbling.

he managed to make it through three whole dances before tapping out, and you skipped behind him over to the bar, still moving your hips to the music.

“what’s the problem?” you asked with a twirl to the song, watching as james cracked open his beer, “all those weights you lift not helping you with your moves?”

“it’s overwhelming,” james shrugged, catching you again unprepared for his unwavering vulnerability, “i’ve never been anywhere like this before, i feel out of my depth. how’d you guys find out about it?” you really, genuinely did feel bad that james was being honest with you and you were staring at his exposed chest, but it wasn’t your fault that he’d gotten sweaty from dancing and now it was shiny! you felt no better than a crow.

“believe it or not, a guy actually took me here on a first date once. it went terribly, like fucking awful, but i just fell in love with this place and the feeling. been dragging everyone else here ever since.”

“how does a guy screw up a chance with you? i mean, he takes you out dancing and still can’t show you a good time?” james shook his head like he was exasperated that some man he’d never meet hadn’t had a good date with you.

“he wouldn’t loosen up,” you hooked a finger around the strap of his overalls, pulling yourself closer to james’ seat on the barstool. “barely danced ‘coz he didn’t wanna look like a dork, and he wouldn’t tell me anything real about himself. i spent the whole night staring at other couples and wishing he was like them. unlike…” you stopped yourself by biting your lip shyly, eyes straying past james to the multicoloured alcohol bottles stacked against the wall of the bar.

“unlike?” he asked, then sensing your sudden nervousness, changed the subject, “your outfit’s missing something.” you cocked your head to the side curiously.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he repeated, lifting his cowboy hat from his head, placing it on yours instead. you took the initiative to run your fingers through his messy curls, arranging them to cure his hat hair.

“d’you even know what that means, baywatch?” you asked, one eyebrow raised.

“nah, but i’m sure i’ll like it.”

james’ sharp tongue went un-reprimanded when your favourite song came blasting through the speakers: Fake ID. you gasped in delight, taking off towards the dance floor in a hurry, james stumbling along behind.

james sat out the first verse to get acquainted with the music, eyes trained on you. you, for once, were mostly unaware of james’ gaze, enraptured by the music and the energy around you. you lost yourself in the dance, body moving with muscle memory so you could enjoy the experience fully. james’ eyes couldn’t leave your figure, roving over the creamy expanses of exposed skin, observing appreciatively as you swung your hips in his direction with a quick wink.

remembering what you’d said about your failed date james took the dive and risked his dignity, hopping the barrier between him and the dance floor. in seconds he was next to you again, clumsily (but enthusiastically) following the choreography you were executing more gracefully.

“let loose!” you yelled as the choreography faded out, everyone around you turning and twisting to the music.

you left james to his own devices to twirl with mary, holding james’ hat on your head to ensure you didn’t lose it. you flung your arms into the air with glee, grinding against nothing when fingers interlaced with yours, spinning you quickly into someone’s hold. james. you released the alarmed breath you’d taken, raising an impressed eyebrow as james smoothly brought your hands up to rest around his neck, his own finding their way down to your hips.

you barely spoke, enjoying the music and the tension that thickened whenever the two of you were alone together. james’ eyes moved almost erratically, trying to take in every inch of you he could, and you weren’t much better. there was a thin sheen of sweat coating the miles of exposed, tanned skin james was showing off, catching the light and drawing your eyes toward it.

james let go of you long enough to get low to the floor, hands and mouth grazing your skin as he worked his way back up your body. you arched your back to swing away from him long enough to hide your blush at the sensations, straightening back up to push yourself even closer to your dance partner.

you’d practically fused into one being, all sweat and flying hair and moving limbs, both your hips moving in time with each other and the music in a way that wasn’t feeling strictly friendly. the eye contact between you was unwavering and you had to force yourself to keep it, refusing to back down from what james had started.

you were so close, millimetres apart. james’ plush, pink lips were practically already on yours, yet he hadn’t closed the gap. why? his heavy breath fanning your face as you danced and all you could think about was what it would be like to kiss james potter.

the song ended just as you’d made your mind up to close the gap and you pulled away with a start, lips only barely grazing his. the room applauded as the houselights came back on, a sign that the night of dancing was over. you cheered with them, still making eye contact with james.

the rest of your group broke up your moment, hooting and hollering and dragging you back to the respective cars. james twirled you one more time on the dance floor, landing with his hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans. you gasped with both surprise and delight at the unexpectedly smooth manoeuvre, letting him lead you back into the cool summer night air.

not quite ready to go home yet the group spread across the two cars, sitting on the bonnets and the grass in between. you stood still connected to james, who was leant against the driver side door. idle chatter passed about as you all praised the night, rehashing what you’d just lived through and how you already missed it.

“so, little lady,” james exaggerated a terrible southern accent, “you gonna tell me what all that fuss is about my hat?” the group had finally started moving, the click of car doors pervading the otherwise now quiet night.

“you’re outta your depth, baywatch,” you produced a cocky grin, “save a horse, ride a cowboy.” james’ surprise gave you leave to skip back to marlene’s car and slide through the passenger window.

she’d just put the engine into drive when james called after your car, “is that a promise?”

your laugh carried back to him through the wind as marlene pulled out onto the road back home.

[viagracex]

Heyyy queen I was wondering if u can write a George clarke fan fic about the song bed cem or the song how deep is your love or the song never be like you what ever ideas come to mind thank u queen

Chasing the Fire

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: maybe it's all in my head, but i bet we'd have really good bed chem. (based on the song bed chem by sabrina carpenter)

warnings: sexual content and smut

note: I love this song and tried to write this so it tied into the lyrics as best as I could. I hope you like it and I’d love to get more requests!

2.4k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

It happened so fast. The party was loud, and you were only half paying attention when you saw him. George.

White jacket, thick accent, messy hair that he had clearly run his hands through too many times that night. You were in a sheer dress that felt a little too bold when his gaze flickered down your body, but you didn’t care.

“Hey,” he said, casual, like he wasn’t the most interesting person in the room.

“Hey,” you echoed, playing it cool.

You talked for a second—literally, maybe sixty seconds. His friend nudged him, distracted him, and before you could find another excuse to stay, he was gone.

But not before you followed each other on Instagram.

You couldn't stop thinking about George as you scrolled through his Instagram that night. His feed was a mix of artsy black and white photos, candid shots with friends, and the occasional shirtless beach pic that made your heart race. You found yourself imagining his accent, replaying your brief conversation over and over.

You weren’t proud of how much time you spent on his page.

Videos of him laughing, of him looking devastatingly good in dim bar lighting, of him in some oversized hoodie that made you think about how easy it would be to steal it after a night together.

You couldn't help but fantasize about George as you lay in bed that night, your mind wandering to places it shouldn't. You imagined his strong hands running through your hair, his accent low and husky in your ear. In your mind, he was tender yet passionate, taking his time to explore every inch of your body.

You pictured the two of you tangled in soft sheets, his muscular form pressed against yours. His kisses would start gentle but grow more urgent, leaving you breathless. You could almost feel the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness of stubble on his jaw.

George would know exactly how to touch you—where to caress and tease. His fingers would trace delicate patterns across your skin, sending a shudder through you. You imagined looking into his eyes, dark with desire, as you moved together in perfect synchronicity.

In your fantasy, George was attentive and giving, focused entirely on your pleasure. His stamina would be impressive, your lovemaking lasting for hours as you discovered each other's bodies. Afterwards, you would lay entwined, trading lazy kisses and soft caresses as your heart rates slowly returned to normal.

You fell asleep with these vivid images playing in your mind, your body tingling with unfulfilled desire. Part of you felt a little guilty for letting your imagination run so wild about someone you'd barely met. But a larger part of you hoped that someday, somehow, fantasy might become reality.

God, the chemistry would be unmatched.

You wanted him.

You wanted him so bad.

And when his name popped up in your DMs, you nearly dropped your phone.

George: That dress was dangerous, by the way.

You: What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.

George: I’d like to see how interesting.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over your phone, but there was no need to play shy. You both knew what you wanted.

You: Are you free next week?

The hotel room was dimly lit, golden from the bedside lamps. You heard him before you saw him, the click of the door shutting, the deep inhale like he was trying to steady himself.

You turned, your heart pounding. George stood there, his white jacket discarded, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the silky slip dress you'd chosen for the occasion.

"You look even more dangerous than last time," he murmured, his accent making heat pool in your stomach.

You took a step towards him, drawn like a magnet. "Good dangerous or bad dangerous?"

His lips quirked into a smirk. "The best kind of dangerous."

In two strides, he closed the distance between you. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," George confessed, his voice low and husky.

"Me neither," you breathed.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, and then his lips were on yours, soft at first, then more insistent. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. George’s hands traced down your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The passion you had imagined ignited instantly between you.

"You're even more stunning than I remembered," he murmured against your lips.

His voice dipped into a teasing rasp, heat pooling in your stomach. You ran your fingers through his messy hair, just as you had dreamed of doing. George’s hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. In one fluid motion, he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

"I've thought about this moment since I saw you in that dress," George said, his voice low and husky. He laid you down gently, then hovered above you. "You're absolutely perfect."

His praise made you flush with desire. George slowly undressed you, kissing each newly exposed patch of skin. When you were bare before him, he sat back to admire the view.

"Gorgeous," he breathed.

You reached for him, impatient. George chuckled and quickly shed his own clothes. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin. You couldn't wait to touch him everywhere.

George kissed a path down your body, setting every nerve ending alight. His clever tongue teased and tasted. You writhed beneath him, overcome with sensation. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he flipped you over.

"On your knees for me, love."

George's strong hands gripped your hips as he positioned himself behind you. You shivered in anticipation, your skin tingling where he touched you. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, and whispered in your ear.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his accent thick with desire. "So beautiful, so perfect for me."

You felt him slowly push inside, stretching and filling you completely. You both groaned at the exquisite sensation. George set a steady rhythm, his hips rocking against you as he showered your neck and shoulders with kisses.

"That's it, love," he encouraged. "You feel amazing."

His praise spurred you on. You pushed back to meet his thrusts, drawing him even deeper. George’s fingers dug into your hips as he picked up the pace. The room filled with the sounds of your passion—skin on skin, breathless moans, whispered endearments.

"You're taking me so well," George panted. "Such a good girl for me."

His words sent a thrill through you. You arched your back, silently begging for more. George obliged, driving into you with rough thrusts. He slid a hand around to tease between your legs as he continued to pound into you. The dual sensations were overwhelming.

"Say it again," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He did. And then he gave you exactly what you wanted.

You could feel the tension building, a delicious coil of pleasure tightening low in your belly. George's skilled fingers worked in tandem with his powerful thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, love," he encouraged, his voice rough.

You cried out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure crashed over you. George held you tight as you trembled through your release. He slowed his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks.

"You're so beautiful when you cum for me," he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

Before you could catch your breath, George flipped you onto your back. His eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled.

He hitched your legs over his shoulders and entered you again in one smooth thrust. The new angle had you seeing stars. George set a punishing pace, driving into you relentlessly.

"You feel so good," he praised. "So tight and wet for me."

You could only moan in response, overwhelmed by sensation. George's muscular body moved above you, a thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. He looked like a god, and you were helpless beneath him.

"Tell me how it feels," George commanded, his accent thicker than ever.

"Amazing," you gasped. "You feel so good. God. Please don't stop."

George groaned, clearly affected by your words. "I couldn't stop if I tried. You're addictive."

He lowered your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. The change in position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You clung to George, your nails raking down his back as he drove into you relentlessly. His muscular body pressed you into the mattress, surrounding you completely.

"You’re unreal," George praised.

You whimpered at his words, arousal coursing through you. George's lips found your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin. You knew he'd leave marks, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You wanted everyone to know you belonged to him.

"George, please," you begged, though you weren't sure what you were asking for.

He seemed to understand, reaching between you to circle your clit. The overstimulation had you crying out, trembling beneath him. George's thrusts became more erratic as he chased his own release.

"That’s it, one more—cum with me," he commanded. "I want to feel you."

His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name as waves of pleasure once again washed over you. George followed soon after, groaning against your neck as he found his release.

You laid there, still breathless, your body warm, spent, tangled in sheets that smelled like him.

George propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with that damn smirk.

"So…" he murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare stomach. "I can say that it was very interesting indeed."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, it was."

His grin widened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

"Round two?"

You pretended to think about it. "Depends. Are you free next week?"

He chuckled, rolling on top of you again.

"Let’s start with tonight."

As George's lips met yours once again, you couldn't help but marvel at how reality had surpassed even your wildest fantasies. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was better than you could have imagined.

His hands roamed your body with a confidence that made you weak. You ran your fingers through his hair, relishing its softness. It was even more luxurious than you'd dreamed, perfect for gripping in the heat of passion.

And speaking of passion... your eyes couldn't help but wander down his chiseled body. You bit your lip, a mixture of awe and anticipation coursing through you. Oh my. Finally getting a chance to appreciate his body—and god, he was even more gifted than you'd dared to hope. No wonder you felt so full earlier.

George caught you staring and smirked. "See something you like?"

You blushed but met his gaze boldly. "Just admiring the view."

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "I aim to please."

"Oh, you certainly do," you purred, running your hands down his muscular chest.

As George began trailing kisses down your neck, you closed your eyes in bliss. His touch was electric, igniting every nerve ending. You'd imagined your chemistry would be good, but this was on another level entirely.

Your body responded to his every caress like it was made for him. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks dancing across your skin. He took his time exploring every curve, as if committing you to memory.

You explored each other's bodies for hours, finding new ways to bring each other pleasure. George was insatiable, his stamina impressive. He took you in every position imaginable, each one bringing new sensations and delights.

As the night wore on, your passionate frenzy gave way to something slower, more tender.

Eventually, exhaustion settled over you both like a warm, sated haze. Your bodies remained tangled beneath the rumpled sheets, your breath still slightly uneven, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync. George's arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare hip. Neither of you spoke for a long time—there was no need. The weight of the moment, the unspoken understanding between you, said everything words couldn’t.

The dim hotel room hummed with the quiet intimacy of two people who had just unraveled each other completely. Your fingers toyed with the strands of his messy hair, brushing them back from his forehead as he studied you with hooded eyes, a smirk playing at his lips. “So,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and satisfaction, “was that as good as you imagined?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress your grin. “Better.”

George chuckled, his fingers tracing idle circles on your bare skin, his touch still sending little aftershocks through your body. There was something electric between you, something undeniable—like you were two forces drawn together by something deeper than just attraction. It wasn’t just the way his body fit perfectly against yours, or the way his voice alone could make you shiver. It was the way you felt in his presence, like the air between you was charged, like every glance, every smirk, every teasing comment had been leading to this moment. The chemistry between you was unreal, like something out of a film, impossible to ignore, impossible to fake.

And the scariest part? You knew this wasn’t just a one-time thing. It wasn’t just lust or fleeting excitement. This was something potent, something addictive, something that had already begun weaving its way into your thoughts, your bones, your breath.

George tilted his head, that knowing smirk playing at his lips—like he could read your mind. “I can hear you thinking from here,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Just… wondering how the hell we have this much chemistry.”

His smirk softened into something almost contemplative. His fingers skimmed your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “Me too.”

The weight of that admission settled between you, heavy with unspoken things. A promise. A challenge. A warning.

Because once you’ve felt this kind of fire, you’ll spend forever chasing the burn.

[thelargefrye]

BECAUSE I'M HIM ... mature one - shot (21+) | PART I

pairing : supe!ateez x supe!villain!f!reader ( ft. supe!villain!sanhwa x supe!villain!f!reader )

genre : dark, mature, heroes and villains, demon slayer x mha inspired, angst

word count : 24k

warnings : language, a lot... a LOT of fight scenes 😮‍💨, death / murder, blood / body gore, suicide, choking, attempted murder, the government wouldn't do that to you - oh yes they would, mass killing (a whole island gets wiped out – not in detail and only mentioned), MAJOR character deaths, cannibalism (kind of), mention human sacrifice, any korean that appears might be inaccurate

smut warnings : unprotected sex, pain kink, wound... fingering (I CAN EXPLAIN), handjob

listen to the official soundtrack here

note : for topaz's @sanjoongie YOTV collab – had so much fun planning this and writing it, thank you for allowing me to be apart of this collab and i hope you enjoy it! please make sure to check out the other fics for this collab with the masterlist!

also thank you to @anyamaris for letting me word vomit this to you!

with the hero association struggling to take down the villain alliance, they and the government force death row villains to team up with some of the world's greatest heroes in order to hunt down and defeat them. you are one of those villains.

ACT I: THE FINAL SELECTION

maximum security prison – interrogation room – day

the briefing room was sterile and cold. not only that but filled with tension that it could be easily cut with a knife. the seven heroes in the room along with the two hero association agents stood in a line, waiting. their hero uniforms were sharp and pristine – like they had never experienced being in a fight before. some of them exchanged wary glances, waiting for their captain to speak up. 

some of the wary glances focus on said captain, hongjoong, as he lets out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed and a scowl on his face, “i still think this is a mistake. we don’t need some damn villains on our team.” 

“maybe we should hear the reasoning first,” jongho says calmly as he leans against the wall and gestures to the two agents who are whispering amongst themselves, “they must have a plan after all.” 

wooyoung let out an annoyed tsk at the youngest member’s words, “seriously? whose bright idea was it to bring in villains? we’re supposed to be heroes, not babysitters.” 

“or they’re just desperate,” yeosang sounds a little skeptical before he’s glancing at yunho, “yunho, you… you knew y/n, didn’t you? before you became a hero?” 

“yeah. we… we grew up together. went to school together too,” he answers, his body stiffening slightly at the mention of you and your… past together. 

“and you’re only bringing that up now? feels like a pretty important detail,” wooyoung says, looking at yunho was a raised eyebrow. he was suspicious of why yunho would exclude ever telling the team this information. 

the top hero looks at wooyoung, “it’s not relevant. that was years ago,” he says, defensively, but why? was he trying to defend himself or you? 

“not relevant?” hongjoong speaks up this time, “you sure about that? she turned into a villain, killed a bunch of people at vanguard, yunho. makes me wonder if you missed the warning signs back then.” 

yunho clenches his fist, eyes shooting a glare at his captain, but mingi steps in, “alright, that’s enough. no reason to randomly start pointing fingers.” 

wooyoung turns his head, “still doesn’t mean this is right. we shouldn’t be working with people who are on fucking death row of all things,” he says under his breath. 

“we don’t have to like it, but you know the villain alliance is escalating. if bringing in these three gives us an edge, we can’t afford to turn it down.” 

“of course you would be on the side of bringing the villains in, yeosang,” wooyoung says, eyes glaring at his friend, teammate, “just because they have dark powers like yours doesn’t mean they are like you.” yeosang’s ears burn a bright red as his eyes look down to the floor, avoiding the others uneasy glances.

the tension in the room hangs heavy, with yunho shifting uncomfortably as the others cast sidelong glances at him. the door opens, breaking the moment and yunho internally sighs in relief, as the three villains – seonghwa, san, and you – are escorted inside by armed guards. your gray prison uniforms are a stark contrast to the heroes’ pristine, clean ones. yunho’s eyes focus in on the thick collars around your necks, a dim, red light pulsing faintly – prisoner control devices. you are further restrained with a sleek, heavy, metal helmet that entirely covers your head and face. yunho is sure that you can’t see out of it at all. 

“this is ridiculous. putting them on our team?” hongjoong says once more, scowl growing even deeper. 

“by order of the hero association, you’re to work together,” one of the agents said, fixing their glasses, “the villain alliance is escalating – demon appearances are increasing, dangerously, you’ll need their help. villains are better suited to take down other villains afterall.” 

your head tilts slightly, sensing the hostility in the room despite being unable to see it. seonghwa and san exchange quick glances, their body language guarded. 

“this is a bad idea. they’re basically just as dangerous as the demons,” jongho whispers quietly from the other side of yunho. 

“we don’t have a choice,” yunho says back, trying his best to sound neutral; however, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. all he can do is picture you from six years ago, before the hero association and public claimed you to be one of the worst villains alive. 

the other agent steps forward, their presence commanding attention as they begin to speak, “we’ve gathered intel that the villain alliance has been growing exponentially with more and more demons popping up. they are also reported to have a ranking system with the top demons known as the twelve moons. these twelve demons are the alliance’s most strongest aside from their leader – nicha yontararak, is powerful. we don’t know the exact extent of her powers yet. which is why these three,” they say pointing to you and the other two villains, “are some of our strongest villains we have on death row. they’ve… agreed to cooperate.” 

wooyoung can’t help but let out a snicker at the agent’s words, “‘agreed’? pretty sure those collars say otherwise.” 

“as if we want to help you all. i would rather happily stay in my cell and watch you all fail miserably,” san snaps back sharply. 

wooyoung steps forward, jaw clenched, “big words for someone in cuffs.” 

“careful, hero. the collars don’t stop us from speaking,” seonghwa says, his voice the complete opposite of san’s. like fire and ice. 

you remain silent, your head shifting slightly as if trying your best to track the conversation. the helmet not only robs you of your sight, but also most of your hearing. your restrained demeanor makes you an enigmatic presence amongst the three villains. 

“enough. we’re all here for the same reason,” yeosang says calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation before it grew even more hostile. was that even possible? he surely didn’t want to find out. 

“speak for yourself,” hongjoong scoffs.

the first agent speaks up again, “this isn’t up for debate. the decision is final. get them integrated into the team.” the guards step back but remain close, their hands on their weapons as if waiting for either villains or heroes to make the wrong move. the two agents turn to leave but the second one pauses at the door. 

“one last thing. these collars can and will neutralize them if they step out of line. you have our full authorization to engage them if necessary, captain hongjoong.” the agents exits the room, leaving a thick silence behind. the room feels suffocating with unspoken tension. 

“so, will you actually be able to help us? or is this just an eventual setup?” jongho asks, looking towards the villains. 

“we were in prison, not their meetings,” seonghwa deadpans at the youngest hero, “do we look like demons to you?” 

yunho finds himself stepping closer to you, “y/n? how… how have you been?” his voice is quiet and he cringes at how he sounds. why the hell would he ask you that? of course you haven’t been good, you’ve been in prison. 

you don’t answer him; however, choosing to remain silent which causes hongjoong to let out a laugh as if to ridicule yunho. yunho casts a quick glance at you. his jaw tightens, an unfamiliar guilt gnawing at him. he shifts uncomfortably, wondering if things could’ve been different – if he had done more, maybe tried harder to help you all those years ago. his fingers curl into fists before he looks away, swallowing his thoughts. 

“don’t waste your breath, yunho. she doesn’t care about any of this,” hongjoong says. 

san steps forward, tension rolling off his form, “watch your mouth,” he threatens with a clenched jaw. 

“or what?” hongjoong asks with a cold smile, “you can’t do anything without your leash.” 

before things could escalate further, mingi steps between them, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “we’re supposed to be working together. let’s not start killing each other before the real fight.” 

seonghwa places a hand on san’s shoulder, guiding him back a step. you tilt your head slightly, as if observing the dynamics despite your blindness. 

“this is going well,” yeosang says softly, the tension clearly making him on edge. 

“it’s gonna get worse,” wooyoung mutters. 

“then we’d better figure it out fast. the villain alliance isn’t going to wait for us to get along,” jongho says seriously as he looks around. 

ateez compound – common room – evening

the ateez compound is probably the nicest facility you’ve ever seen. its sleek in design and filled with every necessity a hero team might need and more: training rooms, living quarters, a common area with large couches, a television that actually worked, and a kitchen off to the side. the atmosphere, however, is anything but welcoming, you conclude. 

you sit in the corner of the common room, back against the wall, and your head finally free of that damn helmet that you had been forced to wear for six years in prison. seonghwa leans on the arm of one of the long couches, observing the room with an icy, detached look. san, sits cross-legged on the floor, tossing a small ball against the wall and catching it repeatedly. the three of you remain isolated, a rather stark contrast to the other heroes clustered together on the other side of the room. 

the air on the other side of the common area is heavy with an uneasy mix of silence and tension. hongjoong stands by the large window that overlooks the surrounding outside area of the compound, arms crossed, his sharp gaze darting towards the three villains every few seconds. his eyes stay on you a little longer, taking in your calm yet unreadable face. wooyoung leans against the wall near him, arms folded tightly, while yeosang and mingi quietly watch from the kitchen. 

jongho watches everyone from his spot on the other couch that isn’t occupied by seonghwa. yunho, perched on the edge of a chair, keeps glancing at you but says nothing. 

“i still can’t believe we have to live with them. it’s like inviting a time bomb into your house,” hongjoong grimaces. 

“more like three. pretty sure those collars won’t stop them if they decide to go rogue,” wooyoung snickers from beside him. 

“you don’t know that. maybe this could work if we actually tried,” mingi said, a little louder than he intended. hongjoong shifts his gaze to mingi, eyebrows raised. 

“tried? they’re not here to make friends, mingi. they’re here because the association thinks villains killing villains is easier than us doing it.” 

“it doesn’t mean they can’t be allies. everyone starts somewhere,” yeosang says calmly. 

wooyoung rolls his eyes at the red-haired hero’s words, “dark powers stick together, huh?” yeosang doesn’t respond to the obvious bait, but his jaw tightens. meanwhile, you tilt your head slightly, almost like you were listening. 

san catches his ball with an annoyed sigh, “we can hear you, you know.” he says flatly. 

“good,” wooyoung responds mockingly, “saves me the trouble of repeating myself.” 

“you’re very brave when you’re surrounded by your friends,” you suddenly speak up, breaking your silence. the room goes quiet at your words. this is the first time any of them have heard you speak and it sends an uneasy shiver down the heroes’ spines as you narrow your eyes over at wooyoung. an unexplainable energy feels like his chest when you make eye contact, and he opens his mouth to respond, but hongjoong puts a hand on his arm, shaking his head. the tension is palpable. 

the setting sun is the only thing warming the otherwise cold room, painting the usually white walls with an orange glow to it. 

ateez compound – rooftop – later that night

the rooftop of the compound offers a great view of the surrounding forest. you can see the city in the distance, the skyline blinking and it reminds you of the stars that are in the sky. yeosang stands at the edge, leaning on the railing looking out at said skyline. you join him, your movements quiet. 

“couldn’t sleep?” you ask, opting to not look at yeosang, but you could tell he was distracted. 

“no.” 

“figured,” you said, smirking lightly, “i guess the compound’s not as relaxing as it usually is, huh?”

yeosang doesn’t respond immediately. you shift a little, looking from him to the city where his eyes are. 

“do they… hate you too?” you asked quietly, as if you were worried that someone unwanted would overhear you. 

“what?” yeosang finally looks at you, a look of surprise on his face. 

“the others. your powers are different. they must notice.”

yeosang lets out an awkward cough as he considers your words for a moment, then shrugs. “i’ve gotten used to it. people are scared of what they don’t understand. it’s easier to focus on appearances instead.” 

“the public loves appearances more than powers,” you said absentmindedly and yeosang can’t help but agree. you hear him take a breath, like he was going to say something, but changes his mind. “what? just ask what you want.” 

“the helmet.”

“what about it?”

“why were you wearing it?”

“it was a security measure. the association learned that it was harder for me to use my powers if i couldn’t see, so… bye-bye sight,” you explain to him and yeosang frowns at your words. 

“the… hero association isn’t bad are they?” he asks and you remain quiet for a few moments before letting out a sigh. 

“not to you maybe, but i am what they label as a villain,” you say with a dry laugh. “so… yeah.” 

“right,” he says with a nod before he’s watching you step away from the edge and back towards the door. 

“make sure you get some sleep, yeosang, good night,” you say, leaving yeosang alone once again. 

“good night, y/n.”

ateez compound – training room – morning

the training room is dimly lit, walls lined with weapons and dummies. seonghwa is sitting on the floor, stretching, while yeosang practices his summoning abilities nearby. dark shadows twist and coil around him, taking the form of skeletal figures. you lean against the wall, watching yeosang’s power with mild interest. 

“so they kept you in solitary confinement?” yeosang asks, looking over to where you are leaning against the wall. 

“they didn’t trust me to not use my powers on the other prisoners,” you say rather flatly. 

“must have been… isolating,” he says with a small nod. 

your expression flickers for a moment before you shrug, ���isolations not so bad when the company’s worse.”

seonghwa snorts softly, but there’s tension in his posture. jongho enters the room, his presence grounding. he surveys the scene before turning his attention to you. 

“they’re not wrong to be cautious. you’re powerful,” he says. 

“careful, jongho. almost sounds like a compliment,” you say with a smirk. 

“just an observation, but power doesn’t mean anything without control.”

seonghwa’s eyes flicker to you, a shadow of concern in his expression. before anyone can respond, yeosang’s shadowy figure lunges towards a dummy, striking it with force. the sound echoes, breaking the tension.

“you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here? if things were different?” yeosang asks rather casually that it almost makes you laugh at how easy-going and innocent his demeanor is. 

you hesitate, your gaze turning hazing and distant for a moment, “sometimes. doesn’t change anything, though.” 

seonghwa exchanges a glance with jongho, unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air. 

ateez compound – outdoor training grounds – day

the outdoor training grounds are sprawling, surrounded by high fences in order to protect the compound from any unwanted visitors and allow its residents to easily overlook the gray sky. you and yunho are standing opposite each other on the sparring mat, the rest of the team watching from the sidelines. hongjoong has said that him and the others should get a feel of what they are working with when it comes to you, seonghwa, and san. of course, you know he thinks he’s just wasting his time. if wooyoung not voicing the fact loudly didn’t tell you anything. 

“you ready?” yunho asks awkwardly, but when is he not awkward with you? 

“always,” you reply flatly. 

the two of you begin sparring, your movements sharp and calculated. yunho hesitates, his strikes lacking conviction and passion. you take advantage of this, knocking him off balance. 

“what’s wrong, number one hero? afraid to hit me?” you taunt him. 

yunho regains his footing, his jaw tightening, “of course not,” he says defensively. he lungs forward, but you counter effortlessly, your power flickering subtly around you – small bouts of red lightning appearing. yunho falters, his mind clouded with static. flashes of a memory – unclear and fragmented – flicker in his mind. he stumbles, clutching his head. 

you pause, brows furrowing, “yunho?” 

before you can approach, mingi’s voice cuts through the haze. “yunho! you okay?” yunho straightens, shaking off the disorientation.

“i’m fine,” he says, brushing it off like nothing happened. 

you step back, your expression guarded. the sparring session resumes, but the tension is heavier now. yunho is more aggressive in his movements, as if trying to prove something, but your skills thankfully keep you ahead. 

“enough! this isn’t a fight to the death,” hongjoong says from the sidelines.

yunho steps back, breathing heavily. you lower your guard, gaze lingering on him. “you’re holding back,” you say quietly. 

yunho doesn’t respond, turning away. the team disperses, the unresolved tension hanging over them like a storm cloud. 

ateez compound – common room – evening

mingi and yeosang are playing a game of cards at the table while seonghwa reads a book on the couch nearby. san lounges not too far from him, watching the game with mild interest. you sit in the corner by the window, eyes glued to the nature surrounding the compound. a flock of crows fly by and they have you entranced for a moment. 

“you’re terrible at this,” mingi says to yeosang with a large grin on his face. 

“i’m letting you win,” yeosang deadpans back at the light-user. 

you glance away from the window, your gaze flickering between them and their cards. 

“he cheats, you know,” you say, directing your words to yeosang. the handsome hero looks towards his teammate with wide, shocked eyes which makes mingi gasps, feigning offense. 

“i do not!” he shrieks out, this causes san to chuckle from his seat as seonghwa looks up from his book, a faint smirk on his face. you know moments of peace like this are brief, but you can’t help but feel this is a small step towards a hopeful unity. 

if only the others were like mingi and yeosang…  

ateez compound – training room – night

you’ve grown use to hearing the hum of the machinery in the training room over the short amount of time you’ve been here. it echoing and bouncing off the walls and sparring mats. you stood near the edge of the large sparring mat, back against the wall with seonghwa next to you. his arms crossed and his shoulder brushing against yours as he whispers quiet words into your ear. the quiet promises of something later making you let out a small smile. 

san sits across from you all on the floor, stretching, his broad shoulders even more prominent in the black tank top he’s wearing. he can’t help the soft grin that graces his lips as he watches you and seonghwa. “that definitely looks like training.”  

you turn to look at the blood user, grinning softly, “i think we’ve had enough training for one day.”

seonghwa hums in agreement, tilting his head towards you slightly, “i agree. i’d rather just be here.” 

san lets out a chuckle, rising to his feet and stepping closer to the two of you. he stops just next to you, his hands brushing lightly over your arms and it sends a chill down your spine. 

“i think you look better when you’re not fighting,” san teases, making you laugh. 

“i don’t fight all the time,” you say, rolling your eyes a little bit at his words, “you were always the one starting fights in prison. i was too busy being held in solitary confinement.”

“and you only came out when they threw san in,” seonghwa says, making san send a glare over the other male. 

you notice seonghwa watches you and san with a calm expression, eyes soften as you can’t help but rest your forehead gently against san’s. you feel the shapeshifter’s finger tracing up your back, neck – over the damn death collar, and under your chin before he’s turning your face to look at him. 

“hwa…” you call out his name softly and it feels unreal almost. like the three of you weren’t villains, but just… normal people. “i don’t know what i’d do without you both,” you add quietly as you feel seonghwa’s arms slip around your waist. seonghwa’s grip is both grounding and gentle as he pulls you towards him. you feel san pressing a light kiss to your hair and you feel your heart speed up from how close to the males are. 

you haven’t been this close to them in a while and it felt nice. 

seonghwa draws your attention back to him as his hand comes to brush along your cheek, lifting your chin slightly as his lips connect with yours. san hovers behind you, sandwiching you between the two, his hands resting lighting on your hips and slipping underneath your shirt, and tracing small circles into your skin. 

the moment stretches, tender and unguarded, and for now you forget about the hero association, the villain alliance, hongjoong’s aggressive attitude, and even yunho’s avoid eyes. you felt normal. your fingers curl gently into seonghwa’s shirt to pull him closer to you – if that was even possible. san presses his forehead against your shoulder and you feel his lips press into your skin. 

from the shadows of the door, yunho stands frozen in place. his eyes watching the intimacy between you three and he can’t help the twist in his gut at the sight. his fists clench, unclench, clench again at his sides as an unfamiliar mix of emotions flickering through him.

the room blurs slightly, but yunho can’t find it in him to look away. like he refuses to look away. heart pounding in his ears when seonghwa presses his lips to yours once more, san’s thumb grazing over your bandaged, healing skin with a sort of tenderness yunho didn’t even realize the blood user even had. 

a faint static hum fills yunho’s mind. his vision distorts – flashes of static along with something distant and obscured flicker across his thoughts. he grips the doorway, feeling his breath hitch as sweat builds along his hairline. a vague image – your face, slightly younger and laughing, suddenly blurs into focus for a split second, only to fade back into the static. 

his breath shudders as the static fragments slip away, leaving a dull ache in its wake. yunho’s knuckles whiten against the frame as his mind reels in so many directions.

“y…ho? yun…? yunho? you good?” mingi’s sudden voice snaps yunho out of his daze and grounds him. 

the top hero stiffens a little, blinking as he turns to see his friend approaching him. yunho clears his throat and steps away from the doorway, not wanting mingi to find out he was spying on you three. 

shaking the lingering ache from his mind, “yeah, i’m fine.” a fake smile appears on his face, and he hopes that mingi buys it. 

“you sure?” he asks, eyes studying him and a frown faintly appearing, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

yunho forces a laugh, his smile still not reaching his eyes as he nods, “just tired.” his gaze shifts back towards the training room, thoughts lingering on the villains one last time. the warmth you all seem to share feels distant, like something yunho can’t reach. 

as yunho walks past mingi and down the hall, his expression hardens, but the flicker of the static memory lingers. haunting and incomplete. his fingers brush briefly over his temple, the ache refusing to fade. 

outskirts of seoul – itaewon district – night 

the nine of you stand together at the edge of the seemingly desolate district. the supposedly once lively streets are eerily silent. when briefed about the mission originally, you were expecting to see at least some people hiding in their homes, away from the villain that is terrorizing the district. however, this place was completely deserted: broken windows, overturned cars, and abandoned belongings create an unsettling atmosphere that sends an unwanted chill down your spine. a flickering streetlight buzzes faintly in the distance and you think it only adds to unsettling tension. 

hongjoong stands at the front of the group, his eyes scanning the area, “stay sharp. something’s not right here,” he says and you all nod. despite how much you don’t like hongjoong for how hostile he’s been, you have to hand it to him that he takes his captain role seriously in cases like this. 

“it’s too quiet. no birds, no wind… nothing,” yeosang says, frown evident on his face as he also looks around. 

you all continue to walk cautiously down the street. mingi kneels down next to an abandoned bicycle, the handlebars bent and smeared with blood. “whatever happened here wasn’t long ago,” he says, looking from the bicycle to you and the others. 

suddenly, a low clicking noise echoes through the streets. everyone freezes.

“what the hell was that?” yunho asks, tensing as he clenches his fists. you look around nervously, your breath visible in the cold air. when did it suddenly get so cold?

“probably a rat,” wooyoung snickers, but you can tell he’s trying to hide his nerves, “or maybe y/n’s shadow creeping around.” you shoot him a sharp glare, but choose to say nothing. you refuse to waste your breath on him and his snide remarks. 

“that’s no rat,” seonghwa whispers, eyes narrowing. 

the clicking grows louder, accompanied by the sound of something wet and slithering. the sounds fill your senses as you and the team move cautiously toward the sound, weapons ready. as you turn a corner, that’s when you come across the horrific thing – a man (or what looked like a man) crouched over a pile of corpses, tearing into the flesh of his victims as blood pools around him at his feet. 

you couldn’t help but let out a gasp when the man’s head suddenly snapped towards your group. no… it wasn’t man, at least not anymore, you concluded. his face had been morphed into something similar to a spider. several beady eyes and fangs protruding from his mouth, his limbs were also similar to that of a spider – long and spindly limbs which you figure made it easier for the creature to tear into flesh. 

“what the fuck?” jongho grimaced, gripping his fist as the spider monster stood to his full height and let out a hiss.  

“it’s a demon! be careful!” you shouted right as the demon lunged for mingi who used his light powers in defense. the demon stopped in his tracks, shielding his eyes, he let out another shrieking hiss before he’s jumping back and away into the shadows. 

“why the hell is there a demon here?” jongho asks, eyes wide in surprise which matches the rest of your faces. 

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling he’s not the only one here,” hongjoong says, eyes locking onto the pile of corpses the demon was just eating from. “let’s split up, this is no longer just a regular investigation mission.” 

outside itaewon district – forest – night

you and wooyoung run through the dark forest, the sound of your footsteps are muffled by the damp earth beneath you. the trees are dense, casting long, twisted shadows in the dim moonlight. 

“we should’ve stayed with the others. i don’t trust you watching my back,” wooyoung snarls out from slightly ahead of you. 

“don’t worry, wooyoung. i wouldn’t trust me either,” you say, rolling your eyes.

wooyoung opens his mouth to retort but stops short of his remark when you both stumble into a clearing. a woman wearing a white kimono stands in the center, strands of silk coming out of her fingers and you notice she’s manipulating them. this must be the demon controlling the other spider demons. her eyes are closed, so it's hard to tell if she’s noticed you and wooyoung yet. 

“this must be the main demon,” you whisper to wooyoung who nods in agreement. “we kill her and the others should die as well.” 

an eerily smile then stretches onto the woman’s face, eyes snapping open and you notice that instead of regular pupils she instead has 하위다섯 – lower five – written on her eyes. “ah~ fresh prey. how delightful~ you both will be perfect additions to my family,” she says, words dripping from her mouth. 

wooyoung lets out a tsk, “let’s see how delightful you find this,” he says, raising both hands and allowing both of them to easily be engulfed in ice and flames. 

“she’s with the villain alliance, be careful!” you say, but wooyoung seems to ignore your warning as he unleashes streams of fire and ice, weaving them together to attack the woman. the villain lungs for wooyoung, spider limbs ripping from her back and you watch as she easily dodges all of wooyoung’s attacks. her inhuman agility easily gives the hero a run for his money. 

that’s when you notice her fingers, moving and invisible silk strings glimmering slightly in the moonlight. you suck in a breath when you realize that you and wooyoung have walked right into her web. you summon a sword with your powers, shimmering red as you grip it tightly in your hold, charging at the spider villain. 

you manage to cut down one of her spider limbs, black blood spraying the area around while some of it lands on your arm. you let out a hiss as the blood starts to burn. acid. her blood was acidic thanks to her powers. she lets out another hiss before directing her attention towards you now. your blade gleaming in the moonlight. the two of you clash violently, the sound of steel meeting hardened exoskeleton rings through the forest air. the woman retaliates, one of her bladed limbs slicing across your arm, drawing blood. 

wooyoung suddenly appears from your peripheral, left fist covered in ice as he manages to strike her, freezing the part that wooyoung made contact with. you use wooyoung as a distraction, slashing through the silk strands before countering a powerful swing from one of her spider limbs. 

“you’re not walking away from this,” wooyoung hisses out before attacking her again with his ice powers. the villain grits her teeth, silk strands whip out, wrapping around your arm and yanking you forward. 

“you’re wasting your potential with these weaklings,” she says, gripping your face tightly as another strand of silk catches your other arm. you feel the strands digging into your skin and slowly dripping down your arms. “join my family.”

“not… a chance,” you hissed out before managing to headbut the villain and knocking her away. wooyoung burns the strands that held you, and you turn to give him a nod before you snap your attention back to the villain.  

she lets out a high-pitched scream that shakes the trees around the clearing. her eyes begin to transform into a darker red color, teeth sharpening as the strands attached to her fingers turn a blood red. 

“i am sakura, lower rank five of the twelve moons. servant to lady nicha, creator of the demons and leader of the villain alliance, and i will make sure to kill you all and bring your heads back to her on a plate!” sakura hisses out as her remaining spider limbs hoist her up above you and wooyoung. 

you brace your sword while wooyoung stands next to you, both fire and ice at the ready. “like to see you try, spider-bitch.” 

outside itaewon district – deeper in the forest – night

yunho and san run through the forest, breathing uneven from both villain and hero as they rush into the clearing. they manage to arrive just as you and wooyoung struggle to subdue sakura. the villain’s grotesque, spider-like form creating dangerous shadow-like figures under the moonlight, her bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision. 

“we’re here!” yunho shouts as him and san rush forward, “hold her off!” 

“about time! she’s a damn nightmare!” wooyoung says through gritted teeth as he dodges one of sakura’s limbs. 

sakura lets out an inhuman screech, her silk strands snapping like whips towards the group. you counter, slashing the threads mid-air with your glowing sword, but more strands follow, faster and more aggressive than the previous ones. 

“she’s not slowing down!” you shout, dodging and slashing at several strands. so many are coming at once that you don’t even notice more of them coming from behind; however, san does. he plants his feet firmly, his blood tendrils lashing out like crimson blades, slicing through the silk strands. he extends a sharp tendril forward, wrapping it around one of sakura’s legs, and yanks her off balance. 

“i’ve got her! go!” san shouts and you nod rushing towards the villain, blade raised high in the air, but sakura twists unnaturally, snapping san’s blood tendrils with her powerful limbs. she leaps into the air, flipping away from the males and lands directly in front of you. sakura thrusts one of her bladed limbs towards your chest. you dodge, but not fast enough – sakura’s limb slices across your upper arm, drawing blood. 

you let out a hiss as you roll away from her, “fucking hell,” you mutter, glaring at the spider villain who has a malicious smile stretching across her face. 

you easily shrug off the pain, swinging your sword with calculated fury, sparks flying as the blade clashes against sakura’s hardened limbs. each strike grows more vicious, the forest ground beneath you splattered with dirt, blood, and silk. 

yunho then comes rushing in, “stay back, y/n!” he barrels into sakura with his shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground. he stands in front of you, his fists flowing faintly with energy. 

“a hero protecting a villain? how sweet. too bad i’ll have to kill you both!” sakura snarls out tauntingly. she then lunges, her blades arms spinning in a flurry of strikes. yunho ducks and counters, landing a glowing punch that sends her reeling. 

“now!” yunho shouts to san who nods. 

san forms a massive spear from both his own blood and what’s already been spilled and hurls it with deadly precision. it impales sakura’s shoulder, pinning her to a tree. he then hurls several smaller ones into her body to keep her from trying to get free. 

“do it now! take her down before she gets free!” san shouts urgently to you. you sprint forward, sword glowing brighter as your power surges. but sakura, even pinned, refuses to go down easily it seems. she lets out a screech and pulls herself free, shattering the tree behind her and even leaving several large holes in her body. 

“you’ll have to try harder than that!” sakura snarls with a laugh. 

“how the fuck is she still alive?!” wooyoung shouts, annoyed. 

“you have to aim for the neck when it comes to demons,” yunho tells him. 

suddenly, sakura summons more spider demons, their grotesque forms crawling from the shadows of the forest. all bearing a striking resemblance to sakura herself. wooyoung steps up, unleashing a fiery explosion that engulfs several of them.

“i’ve got the small ones. you three handle her!” he shouts before having two more spider demons engulfed in flames with loud screeches. 

san and yunho close in on sakura, attacking in unison. san uses his blood tendrils to ensnare her limbs, while yunho lands precise strikes on her half regenerated torso, forcing her back. 

sakura leaps into the trees, her movements becoming even more fast and erratic. you follow her, launching herself into the air with a burst of power. 

“you’re not getting away!” you shout, swinging your sword mid-air, narrowly missing sakura as the villain flips backward. they land in a small clearing, separated from the others. 

sakura smirks, her bladed limbs ready for another attack, “you’re persistent, but you’re just a pawn, same as me.” 

“we are nothing alike,” you say, gritting your teeth and charging again, sword blazing. you land a powerful slash across sakura’s abdomen, black blood spilling onto the ground and just barely missing you. sakura screams in rage and pain, movements becoming more erratic and less precise. 

yunho and san catch up, cornering sakura from opposite sides. san skewers one of her limbs with his blood tendrils, holding her in place, while yunho delivers a devastating punch to her mid section, you even hear her exoskeleton cracking. 

“we need to immobilize her! take her into custody for the hero association!” yunho shouts to you. you approach sakura, sword trembling in your hands from the amount of energy this fight has taken. that’s when your eyes meet sakura’s. 

you see a wave of panic flood her eyes as she begins struggling to free herself. “kill me! you have to kill me!” her voice desperate and pleading. it catches the three of you off guard at her sudden tone change. 

“what?” you say, sword gripped tightly in your hand. 

“she’ll find me! lady nicha will do worse than death! please, just kill me!” her words screaming and bouncing off the trees surrounding the clearing. 

you hesitate, sword hovering at sakura’s neck. the conflict in your eyes is clear as sakura’s pleas echo in your ears. her pleas sounding hauntingly familiar to those you have heard before. 

yunho notices the hesitation in your stance, “y/n, don’t hesitate– 

before anyone can act, sakura seizes your sword with her remaining limb and makes a clean swipe at her neck. the blade cuts through her neck, head being severed from her body as they both collapse, lifeless. blood sprays across your body, her blood staining your face and hands. 

you stand frozen, staring at sakura’s body. “she… she killed herself,” you whisper, shaken at the sight. 

san steps forward in an attempt to comfort you, his expression softening. “y/n, it's not your fault– 

you flinch and push him away, stumbling back. you turn to face both san and yunho with wide and shaken eyes. yunho stares at your bloodied face, “y/n–

suddenly, yunho grabs his head, a sharp pain overtaking him as his vision fills with static, distorted images flashing before his eyes. he sees fragments of you, blood across your face, but instead of fear you look almost… emotionless. dead. 

“no…” he groans, clutching his head in pain, “not again.” he collapses to his knees right as wooyoung joins the three in the clearing. he rushes up to yunho, panic on his face as he shakes his shoulder. 

“yunho! what’s happening?” the elemental hero asks, voice also full of panic. 

yunho doesn’t respond, his mind consumed by the visions. meanwhile, you still remain frozen, staring at your blood-covered hands. the clearing is silent except for the rustling of the wind and the faint distant calls of the others calling for their four teammates and the cawing of a single crow.

infinity castle – ██████

the infinity castle groaned with restless energy, its every moving labyrinth walls shifting in different patterns under the glow of several thousand orange lanterns. at the heart of it all, lady nicha stood on a platform, exuding a dominance that was godlike. 

karina, seated beside her with her bipa resting gracefully in her lap, plucked a melancholic melody from its strings. the mournful tune filled the endless castle dimension, heavy and foreboding, stirring unease in the very air. 

“karina. call them.”

without a word, karina’s fingers plucked a singular cord. several hanok doors appeared, sliding open and summoning the lower rank moons. one-by-one they stood on the platform above nicha, her cold gaze watching them intently. they all knelt down, heads bowed low, trembling beneath the weight of nicha’s presence and stare. 

the woman surveyed them with disdain, her eyes narrowing as she looked over them. her voice, calm but laced with venom, shattered the silence. “sakura was killed. why is it that you demons in the lower ranks are so utterly weak? the upper ranks of the twelve moons have remained unchanged. how many times have you been replaced?”

that’s easy for you to say, but we… one of the lower moons thought. 

“that’s easy for you to say, but we…” nicha says, repeating the demon’s thoughts. “what? go ahead and say it.” her eyes piercing down at the lower moon with her red eyes. 

i’m screwed! they thought, body trembling.  

“screwed how?” 

the air grew impossibly cold, the shadows on the walls twisting with sudden ferocity. her expression darkened, her crimson eyes gleaming with a silent fury. suddenly, a grotesque tendril appeared and attacked the lower moon, raising him upside down in the air. his eyes wide in fear, but had no opportunity to scream as the tendril shredded through him. blood pooling down blew and covering both the platform and remaining lower moons. 

nicha then turns her attention to one of the other lower moons, “every time you cross paths with a hero you run. the only thing on your mind is to escape it's an embarrassment to the villain alliance.”

the demon immediately began trying to explain herself, saying how she repeatedly puts her life on the line for lady nicha and her cause. 

“are you… calling me a liar?” nicha’s voice reverberates through the chamber, each syllable a knife carving into the demon’s hysteric composure. the music from karina’s bipa continued to play with a sharper edge. the grotesque tendril immediately crushed the lower moon with its weight. her blood spraying the remaining three lower moons with blood. 

before nicha could continue her slaughter on the lower moons, the lower third suddenly dashes away. his demon speed taking him away from the platform he was originally summoned on and further into the infinity castle. 

the only option is to run! he thought as he jumped from one sideways roof to another. 

a sudden slash was heard before the lower moon’s head was clutched in nicha’s head, dripping blood as his dead eyes stared at the remaining too. 

“i believe the twelve moons are better off consisting of just the upper ranks. i am now dismantling the lower ranks.”

nicha then effortlessly tosses the severed head down onto the other platform. the head hitting the wooden ground with a thump! and rolling slightly before coming to a sudden stop. 

“do you have any last words?”

“i can still be of use to you, lady nicha! if you were to just give me more of your blood then–

“what makes you think you can order me to give you my blood?”

“you misunderstand! you misunderstand!”

“shut up. i misunderstand nothing. i’m never mistaken about anything. my word is absolute,” nicha’s eyes began to glow as she continued to look at the lower moon, “you tried to tell me what to do, yet you are the worthless one. you deserve to die.” 

lower moon one, yena, is suddenly the only one left, her face covered in the blood of her previous fellow lower moons. yet, she continues to look up at lady nicha with more adoration than fear. eyes glazed over. 

“do you have any last words?” nicha asks, looking at the demon. 

“if i am to die by your hand, my lady, then i am honored~ you have given me everything. my strength, my purpose… my life. if i am unworthy, than i would rather die by your hand than live in disgrace~” 

nicha paused, her fury momentarily eclipsed by curiosity. her crimson eyes narrowed as she regarded the unshaken demon. 

“honored, are you?” the dimension fell silent. but the silence didn’t last long when a fleshy, grotesque tendril came down from above and stabbed yena in the neck. injecting the lower moon with some of nicha’s blood. yena suddenly fell to the floor and began to thrash and convulse, letting out a guttural cry. 

“that’s what i like to hear~” nicha said, a faint cold smile twitching upon her lips for a split second. she seemed to gain some sick satisfaction at watching yena convulse on the ground beneath her. “i’ll give you an ample share of my blood. make yourself useful to me, then. if you kill the female villain who works with the heroes then i will give you even more of my blood. failure is not an option.” 

yena could only let out a gurgled noise in response. karina plucked several notes on her bipa. with each note a hanok door appeared and shut, separating nicha from yena who struggled on the ground. one final note plucked and a door appeared underneath yena, opening and whisking her away and back to wherever she was prior.

ACT II: MUHAN TRAIN

busan district – train station – night

the moon hangs low in the night sky, its pale light illuminating the quiet train station. mingi walks over to the entrance, his boots crunching the gravel underneath. he adjusts his gloves and scans the area. the train station is quiet, almost abandoned of human life as he steps inside to look around. there’s a single light glowing warmly in the place. there’s no one at the counter, too dangerous to be out at night anymore. 

he remembers hongjoong briefing him on the mission: investigate the train that had twenty passengers suddenly vanish without a trace. the association think its the work of a high-level villain. mingi though? he’s not entirely sure anymore, especially after dealing with sakura back in the itaewon district. 

“this place gives me the creeps,” he mutters under his breath. the faint sound of a train whistle echoes through the distance. mingi frowns as he feels a chill run directly down his spine. he looks around cautiously, his heightened senses on alert.

mingi comes to the conclusion that this sleepy town looks like it forgot the concept of daylight. the streets are dimly lit, and most of the windows are closed, not a single outside soul able to see what goes on inside. he stops in front of a rundown looking diner and enters to see a few locals gathered about the place. the bell above the door jingles half-heartedly at his arrival. 

the smell of stale coffee and grease fills and lingers in the air. mingi approaches the counter where an elderly waitress, face lined with years of worry, greets him. 

“you’re not from around here, are you?” her voice is hushed as she looks over mingi’s appearance, his natural stark white hair making him easily stand out amongst the locals. 

mingi shakes his head, “i’m here about the train. heard anything strange?” his words catch the gazes of the other patrons who look nervous.

the waitress hesitates before leaning closer, her voice low and trembling, “it’s not just the train. there’s someone… something. we call him ‘the slasher.’”

mingi straightens, brows furrowing, “the slasher?” he repeats. 

“attacks people at night. leaves them… torn apart. no one’s seen his face. some think he’s a legend at this point.” 

“and you’re sure it’s not connected to the train?” mingi asks, hands tightening into fists. the waitress shakes her head, glancing towards the door nervously. 

“no, but he’s just as dangerous.”

suddenly, a loud crash comes from outside. mingi bolts to the door, throwing it open to see a figure standing under a flickering streetlight. 

mingi assumes this is the slasher the waitress told him about. the figure stands tall, shrouded in darkness. his mask is stitched together with mismatched pieces of leath, and his hands are tipped with sharp, metallic claws. mingi thinks he just walked straight out of a horror film. a terrified civilian is pinned against the wall beside him, struggling to break free. 

“leave, hero, or they bleed,” the slasher hissed out, beady eyes staring straight at mingi. 

mingi steps forward, unshaken by the threat, “let them go. now!” 

the slasher tilts his head, amused. he tosses the civilian back, who lets out a cry, before lunging towards mingi with surprising speed. the villain swipes his claws in a flurry, each strike aiming for mingi’s vital points. mingi is able to duck and dodge with precision, his combat skills sharp and deliberate like any high-class hero. 

“is that all you’ve got?” mingi asks grinning. 

mingi retaliates, delivering a powerful kick that sends the slasher flying into a pile of crates. the villain recovers quickly, leaping into the air and slashing downward. mingi rolls out of the way, his fist glowing faintly with his light energy. the alley becomes a quick battlefield, the slasher’s claws leave deep gouges in the brick walls. meanwhile, mingi counters with precise strikes that force the villain to become defensive. 

“you’re faster than the others, but you won’t leave here alive,” the villain taunts, a maniacal laugh leaving his lips. 

“we’ll see about that,” mingi says. the hero charges, his energy-infused punch connecting with the slasher’s chest. the impact sends a shockwave through the alley, shattering nearby windows. the slasher stumbles, his claws sending sparks flying as they scrape the ground. 

realizing he’s outmatched, the slasher attempts to flee. mingi chases him through the streets, their movements a blur of speed and violence. 

the fight ends at the edge of town, where mingi finally subdues the slashes. with a final punch, he knocks the villain unconscious, leaving him crumpled on the ground. the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon, bathing the scene in a faint golden glow. mingi wipes sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. 

“one down. now for the train,” he says to himself as he goes to connect the hero association so they can deal with the villain that lays on the ground.  

busan district – train station – sunrise

mingi approaches the train station once again. this time instead of being abandoned, he notices a person at the ticket booth. he walks up to the older woman who simply smiles at him. 

“the muhan train… is it running?” he asks.

“oh, yes! they sent her back from the train yard last night,” she explains and mingi is surprised by the news, but if this means he can figure out the mystery surrounding it then…

“three tickets, please,” mingi says, holding up three fingers. the older woman lets out a chuckle as she gets the three tickets ready. mingi pays the woman before thanking her. 

he pockets the tickets and turns, spotting a familiar figure waiting for him near the platform – yunho, with you standing a few feet behind, your expression unreadable. mingi is honestly surprised that hongjoong sent the two of you on this mission with him considering the results of the last mission. 

“took you long enough,” yunho says, nodding towards his friend. 

“ran into some… distractions,” mingi said with a smile. you glance towards him, your eyes briefly flickering down to the faint scratches on his arm. 

“looks like you’ve been busy,” you say, crossing your arms. mingi chuckles, brushing your comment off as approaches you. 

“don’t worry about it. let’s go. we’ve got a train to catch,” he says, handing you and yunho your tickets. the train whistle suddenly blows and the three of you board before it begins to move, carrying you all to your next destination. 

muhan train – passenger car – night

the train hums steadily as you, mingi, and yunho sit in a modest, warmly lit passenger car. one of the overhead lights flicker softly, making your eye twitch every time it does. a few other passengers sit scattered throughout the car, their light chatter fills the air peacefully. 

“the hero association thinks it’s a demon,” yunho’s voice is low as he leans forward, “it’s the only explanation for twenty people vanishing without a trace.”

“a demon on a train? sounds like something out of a horror movie,” mingi says with a frown, his eyes darting from yunho to you to see your reaction. 

“except this one’s real,” you said seriously, expression void of any possible emotion. 

the three of you glance around the car. the other passengers seem oblivious, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air that you’re positive these civilians are ignoring. ignorance is bliss afterall, you think. a conductor enters, punching tickets as he moves down the aisle. his movements are stiff, mechanical, and his face gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks. 

the conductor then approaches your row. 

“tickets, please,” he says monotonously. yunho hands over your tickets and the tired man punches them with robotic precision, his hands trembling slightly. 

“you look exhausted,” you say, observing the conductor quietly. the man hesitates but doesn’t respond. he finishes punching the tickets and moves on, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. you watch him leave, a small frown tugging your lips.

“you ever feel like we’re the ones who need a break?” mingi asks, stretching and letting out a yawn a little too loudly. 

“maybe after we survive this,” you say, smiling faintly. 

mingi chuckles, leaning back in his seat. the train’s gentle rocking starts to lull you three into a drowsy state. 

“wake me if the demon shows up,” mingi says, stifling another yawn. you can’t help but also let out a small yawn, eyes feeling heavy and tired as you tilt your head back against the seat. eyes closing. 

muhan train – abandon passenger car – night

the conductor steps into a dim, smoke-filled room. a large mirror reflects distorted shapes of the cabin you and the others are in. yena stands before the mirror, draped in a dark, flowing outfit with theatrical accents of feathers and embroidered stars. her piercing, icy blue eyes gleam the words 아래하나 – lower one – read where her pupils should be, and her smile is predatory, exuding both elegance and malice. she’s clearly not human, not anymore at least.

“welcome back, my loyal friend~” she speaks softly, with a mock bow towards the conductor. 

“i did what you asked. can i… can i rest now? can i be with my family now?” he asks pleadingly. 

yena tilts her head, “of course. i always reward devotion,” she steps closer, placing her gloved hand over his chest. a strange light emanates from her hand as the conductor's body stiffens. his head tilts back, and his eyes close. 

“dream deeply,” she whispers. his body collapses like a marionette with its strings cut. 

yena turns to the mirror, which now shows glowing tendrils snaking into the train’s walls. she lets out a deep laugh, “let’s see what their hearts desire most!” she says to herself, throwing her hands in the air in a large theatrical movement. 

████ – beach – sunset

you let out a gasp, eyes snapping open and you find yourself standing on a beach. it’s peaceful and you can see the waves glittering under the warm sunset. san and seonghwa are beside you, both dressed casually and laughing. san reaches over, brushing sand off her arm with a grin. 

“you’re terrible at building sandcastles,” he says with a smirk. 

seonghwa lets out a chuckle, “more like demolishing them,” he says teasingly. 

you let out a laugh, your voice feeling light and free like you’ve been this way your entire life. the three of you sit together, looking out at the horizon. san wraps an arm around your shoulder, while seonghwa offers you a soda. 

“i’m glad we decided to take this vacation, get away from the city,” seonghwa says softly. 

san nods, “just us.” 

you feel your smile falter for a moment, a faint sense of wrongness creeps in. you look down at your hands, which are clean and unscarred – too perfect. 

“this… isn’t right.”

daegu district – the song residence – day 

mingi stands outside a small house, holding a certificate in one hand and dressed in his pristine hero uniform. when he walks inside he sees his parents sitting inside the cozy living room, their figures illuminated by warm light. 

“mom, dad, i did it! i’m a hero now!” he says to them excitedly before talking about everything he has done in order to be recognized by the hero association. they both glance up, faces unreadable. his mother gives him a small, distracted smile before returning to her knitting. 

“that’s nice, honey,” she says, voice flat and with no emotion. 

his father barely looks up from his newspaper, “don’t forget to take out the trash.” 

mingi’s expression falters, his face full of confusion and hurt which flickers in his eyes. 

seoul district – cherry blossom tree park – day

the seoul district was bustling with life, students, faculty, and regular civilians alike enjoying the warm spring breeze that carried the faint scent of flowers. but what captured everyone’s attention the most were the cherry blossom trees scattered across the park’s main road. their petals glowing faintly under the soft sunlight. 

it was the height of cherry blossom season – or so it appeared. 

yunho smiled as he glanced at you walking beside him, your gaze fixed on the pink and white blossoms overhead. you had always had a particular fondness for things like this, where the world seemed to pause just enough to let beauty shine through. 

“i told you this would be worth it,” yunho said, his voice tinged with pride. “i knew you’d like it.” 

you slowed your steps, eyes narrowing slightly as you studied the trees more closely. your lips quirked into a small, curious frown. “they’re… not real.” 

yunho looked at you with wide eyes, heart sinking at your words, “what?”

you gestured toward one of the branches, where the faint flicker of light betrayed its holographic nature. “they’re projections. pretty sure, but not real cherry blossoms.” 

yunho let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry, y/n. i thought… i didn’t realize. i just wanted to—

“yunho, stop,” you say, turning to him and cutting him off with a gentle smile. “it’s okay. you went out of your way to do something sweet for me, and that means more than whether the blossoms are real or not.” 

your words lifted a weight off of yunho’s shoulders and warmed his heart and body like how you usually manage to do to him. yunho rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning bright red as he struggled to find the words to respond with. “i… i just thought you’d like it,” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze. 

“and i do,” you replied, “especially since i’m here with you,” your tone as sincere as the sparkle in your eyes. 

the two of you began walking along the path that curved beneath the cherry blossoms, their petals shimmering softly in the breeze. yunho couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at you, his heart beating a little faster every time she laughed or pointed out something that caught her interest. 

as they passed a family sitting on a nearby bench, your attention was drawn to a child tugging at their parent’s sleeve. “i wish they were real,” the child said wistfully, staring up at the holographic blossoms. 

you slowed your pace, expression unreadable. yunho noticed but said nothing, assuming your silence was related to quiet disappointment. 

“ready to go?” he asked once you reached the far end of the path. 

“yeah, but i need to use the bathroom first,” you said quickly, darting off before he could respond. 

yunho chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to a nearby bench beneath one of the holographic trees. 

but then the ground began to rumble. 

yunho immediately shot to his feet, instincts kicking in as he scanned the area for danger. the tremors grew stronger, causing people to cry out and scramble for safety. students began to murmur about a potential villain attack, and yunho was already calculating how to evacuate everyone if needed. 

but before panic could fully set in, something else happened. 

the holographic trees flickered out of existence, their light dimming until they vanished completely. in their place, real cherry blossom trees burst from the ground, their roots spreading as their branches stretched towards the sky. petals began to cascade like rain, painting the park in shades of pink and white. 

yunho was speechless, his breath catching as he took in the sight. the blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, their delicate scent filling the air. it was more beautiful than what he could have ever imagined, almost otherworldly in its perfection. 

“wow!” your voice broke through his trance, and he turned to see you approaching with a wide smile. “look at them!” you stopped beside him, your gaze fixated on the blossoms above. “beautiful, aren’t they, yunho?”

there was something in your tone, a quiet pride that made him look at you instead of the trees. your eyes sparkled with mischief, and he felt a pang of realization hit him. 

“you…” he started, voice trailing off. 

“hmm? what are you saying?” you asked innocently, tilting your head as if you hadn’t just performed a miracle. 

yunho opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he shook his head with a soft laugh. “nothing. forget it.”

you grinned, clearly amused. “oh! before we leave, we should get ––––– a keychain. he’ll never let me hear the end of it if we don’t bring him something.” 

yunho looked at you with confusion written over his face as your voice began to become static. especially when you spoke of someone else’s name. 

“who?” he asked and you looked at him with equal confusion. 

“––––––”

yunho suddenly felt a pain rush through his head, he heard you let out a soft gasp as you touched his arm. his vision being overcomed with static as he saw flashes of different images. 

“yunho? are you okay?” your voice panicked as the pain slowly began to subside from his head.

he shook his head as he straightened up, “yeah, sure,” he replied with a tight lipped smile. you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes before nodding at him. you grabbed his arm in order to pull him towards the park gift shop. 

as you both walked through the park, now alive with real cherry blossoms, yunho couldn’t help but steal one last glance at you. you were radiant, laughter ringing out like music, and for a brief moment, he forgot about everything else. 

all he could think about was how much he wanted this moment to last forever.  

████ – beach – sunset

you feel a sense of unease grow as you stand up. you take a step away from san and seonghwa, your gaze sharpening. 

“this isn’t real.”

san grabs your arm, his grip firm. your eyes look from his hand to his eyes. “stay, please,” he says.

“don’t you want to stay here? with us?” seonghwa asks firmly. 

you hesitate for a moment, pain flickering across your face, but you push san away as you take off running down the beach. you need to wake up, who knew what the demon will do if you don’t do it soon. 

there has to be an end to this place, you conclude as you summon your sword. the red metal glittering in the setting sun as you run along the sand. you figure if you run in a straight line then you should hit the end eventually. right?

“y/n!” you freeze in your tracks at the sudden voice. you feel a chill run down your spine at the familiar voice. what? you feel your breath getting heavy as you hear the person’s footsteps coming closer to you. 

“where are you going? don’t you want to stay here? with me?” 

you hesitate for a moment before turning to see him standing not too far from you. you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes at the sight of him. you feel a part of you pulling towards him, to stay like he wants. like what you want.  

you shake your head, “i’m sorry. there’s people i have to protect.” 

he lets out a laugh as he tilts his head, “i’ll see you later then.” 

you nod your head, looking down at your sword before getting an idea. raising your sword, you plunge it into your chest. the dream shattering like glass.

muhan train – passenger car – night

you wake with a gasp, face pale and sweat-drenched. around you, the passengers are asleep, faces twisted in an unnatural serenity. you shake yunho and mingi in an attempt to wake them, but they remain unresponsive. 

“damnit! you bastards, wake up!” you hiss before summoning your sword and searching for the demon that was responsible for this. 

muhan train – train roof – night

you climb onto the roof, the cold wind biting at your skin. yena stands there, her dark cloak billowing out dramatically. she looks at you with surprise before it transforms into a menacing grin. 

“awake already? how rude of you to leave the dream i tailored so carefully.”

“let’s skip the theatrics,” you say, gripping your sword tightly. 

“oh, darling, i am the theatrics,” she says with a chuckle. yena strikes first, her movement fluid and almost dance-like. you block her attacks with your sword, red sparks flying with every clash. yena’s attacks are graceful but deadly, her nails cutting into your arm. 

“i could give you everything. no more blood, no more pain. just… bliss,” she tells you, tone playful. 

you grit your teeth, “i’ll take reality over your lies.” the fight grows more brutal, with blood spraying as yena’s claws grazes your cheek. you retaliate with a slash across yena’s torso, the villain staggering briefly before smiling. 

the battle intensifies, you pushing through your injuries. finally, you land your sword where her neck lies and sever her head. yena’s head rolls along the roof of the train, body falling to her knees. but yena smirks

“you think this ends here?” yena asks, smiling as blood pours everywhere. 

the train begins to twist and transform, metal screeching as it takes on a grotesque, almost living form. yena’s head attached itself to a flesh tendril as she laughs down at you. her body clapping at the scene before it. 

“what the hell?”

muhan train – train roof – night

the cold wind howls, whipping through your hair as you stand on the roof of the speeding train. you grip your sword tightly, blood dripping from a shallow cut on her arm. the moonlight casts an eerie glow on yena, whose cloak billows unnaturally, as if alive. her sharp features are accentuated by the shadows, and her sly smile reveals teeth too sharp to be human. 

“look at you. so determined. so angry. it’s almost… endearing,” yena speaks, mockingly towards you. you narrow your eyes, sword steady in your hands.

“you’re done terrorizing these people.”

“oh, darling, i’ve only just begun~” she replies with a smirk. 

yena lunges with inhuman speed, her hands slicing through the air like claws. you dodge, barely missing the lethal swipe, and retaliate with a quick slash of your sword. sparks fly as the blade connects with yena’s clock, but the fabric seems to absorb the impact, leaving her unharmed. 

you let out a quick cuss as yena spins, her movements fluid and unnervingly elegant, landing a kick to your side. you stumble but quickly regain your footing, slashing upward. this time, the blade grazes yena’s arm, drawing dark, ink-colored blood. 

“how rude,” yena hisses out, she attacks back. her claws slashing across your shoulder. blood sprays onto the roof, and you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness. 

muhan train – passenger car – night

inside, yunho jerks awake, his vision blurry and disoriented. around him, the other passengers remain unconscious, their faces peaceful yet unsettling. he notices the grotesque, flesh-like tendrils snaking along the walls and ceiling – pulsing veins of flesh and metal intertwining. 

“what the hell…” he says to himself. a sudden groan shakes the train as the walls ripple, the train itself coming alive in the moment. yunho stumbles toward the back, his instincts and years of training kicking in. 

muhan train – train roof – night

the fight between you and yena escalates. the demon’s movements grow more erratic, her strikes faster and more lethal. you counter with calculated blocks, your sword glowing faintly as you channel your powers into it. you manage to land a deep slash across yena’s chest, causing the villain to stagger. 

but yena only laughs, her voice echoing unnaturally, “you’re strong~ i’ll give you that. but you’re still so… mortal.” 

she raises her arms, the train beneath you begins to twist and convulse. you stumble as the roof warps under your feet. yena’s body shifts, her legs melting into the train. 

“you’re on my turf now, nameless.” 

the train screeches as more of the flesh and metal tendrils burst from the sides, snaking towards you. you slash at them, severing a few, but more only take their place. 

“yunho! mingi! protect the passengers!” you shout, hoping that at one if not both of them are awake by now. hopefully, they found a way to wake up. 

you see movement behind you, and turn to see yunho now on the roof. “we’re not leaving you!” he shouts. 

“just do it!” 

yunho hesitates, but a sharp tendril lashes towards him. he ducks and retreats, heading inside to protect the passengers. 

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

the interior of the train shifts and slowly becomes unrecognizable. walls pulsate with fleshy growths, and even grotesque eyes and mouths form sporadically, watching and whispering. mingi wakes up to this sudden nightmare, body stiff from the unnatural slumber. he shakes his head as he grabs a nearby pole for support to stand up. 

“what the hell is going on?” he asks, looking around completely horrified. “this really is a horror movie!”

yunho runs towards him, slamming a tendril aside with his fist. “mingi, help me! we need to protect the passengers!” 

mingi nods, steeling himself, and the two begin tearing tendrils away from the unconscious passengers. managing to destroy and burn away the grotesque flesh that covered the car walls. 

muhan train – train roof – night

you fight with everything you have. slashing through webs of tendrils, your body bleeding from multiple cuts. the train’s transformation has made the fight infinitely harder – yena is everywhere. 

“you can’t kill what’s become eternal, little villain,” yena sneers. 

you grit your teeth, sword glowing bright as you channel more energy into it. “watch me.” you then drive your blade into the train roof, sending a shockwave through the mutated structure. yena screams, momentarily destabilized, as parts of the train begin to reverie to normal.

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

yunho and mingi manage to protect the last of the passengers, securing each of the passenger cars. 

yunho looked up, “do you think y/n is doing okay?” 

mingi looks up as well, “she’s stronger than all of us put together, yunho. she’s got this.” 

yunho licks his lips at mingi’s words, “i hope so, for her sake especially.”

muhan train – train roof – night

you continue to fight, your injuries mounting. yena, now more monstrous than human, laughs as her tendrils lash out. you dodge, though one catches your side, slamming you into the roof. you let out a couch, blood splattering onto the metal. 

yena leans closer to you, “you’re resilient, i’ll give you that. but you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

you grip your sword tightly, glaring at the demon, “inevitable? maybe, but i’ll still win.” 

with a roar, you lunge forward, slashing wildly. the blade glows brighter with each strike, curing through yena’s defenses. finally, you spot yena’s neck – embedded deep within the train’s core. you leap into the air, bringing your sword down in one final, desperate strike. 

“die already!” you scream out. the blade servers yena’s neck, and the demon lets out a bloodcurdling scream as her body begins to disintegrate. the train convulse violently, throwing you to side. 

the power behind your attack has the training derailing, lying on its side in a broken heap. passengers awaken slowly, groggy but alive. yunho helps some of them out while mingi finds you thrown on the other side of the tracks, bleeding heavily. 

derailment site – night

the area is silent except for the crackling of smoldering wreckage from the now derailed train. mingi crouches beside you, helping you sit up after having been thrown off the train, your blood-soaked clothes sticking to her skin. you wince as he carefully presses a piece of torn fabric against her side to staunch the bleeding. 

“stay still, y/n. you’ve lost too much blood already.” 

you grimace, “you’re one to talk… you’re just as banged up.”

“you’re way worse off. besides, someone’s gotta keep you alive.” 

the moment of tense peace between you both is shattered by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps crunching on gravel. a figure emerges from the shadows – a man with a sharp, predatory grin and glowing crimson eyes that read 상위삼 – upper three. the demon from the villain alliance, you conclude, strolls forward. his movements are unnervingly casual, his aura radiating just as menacingly. 

“well, well. looks like i just missed the show, huh?”

mingi quickly stands, stepping protectively in front of you, “who are you?”

the demon lets out a mocking laugh, “aw, you don’t recognize me? i’m hurt. yeonjun, upper rank three of the villain alliance. and you… you’re mingi, right? the loud and flashy one.”

“if you’re looking for a fight, you’re got one.”

you struggle to push yourself up, your hand gripping your sword tightly. “mingi, don’t—

mingi turns to you, “stay down, y/n. you’re in no shape to fight.”

“you can’t take him on alone! don’t be stupid!”

“don’t worry. i’ve got this. after this, we’ll go get something good to eat, okay?” he says, smiling reassuringly to you. you hesitate, jaw tightening, but you finally nod, clutching your wound as you watch mingi step forward. 

“oh, this is gonna be fun,” yeonjun says with a grin. 

mingi charges first, throwing a heavy punch aimed at yeonjun’s face. the demon dodged effortlessly, countering with a kick to mingi’s stomach that sends him skidding back. 

“is that all you’ve got?” he laugh, “come on hero, show me some real power!”

mingi doesn’t respond, rushing back in with a flurry of punches and kicks. his fists land solid blows on yeonjun’s chest, but the demon barely flinches, his wounds healing almost instantly. 

“you’re strong, i’ll give you that. but you’re holding back. still clinging to your humanity.” yeonjun strikes back, his claws raking across mingi’s arm, leaving deep gashes. blood splatters onto the ground, but mingi doesn’t falter. he lands a powerful uppercut that sends yeonjun staggering. 

“humanity’s what makes me stronger than you,” mingi says proudly. 

“oh, please! don’t give me that righteous crap. you’d be unstoppable as a demon. think about it – we could fight like this forever! no limits, no consequences. just endless battles!” 

“not interested.”

the fight intensifies, with mingi and yeonjun exchanging brutal blows. mingi’s knuckles are raw and bleeding, and his breathing grows labored. yeonjun, meanwhile, remains eerily unscathed, his wounds closing as quickly as they open. you watch from the sidelines, clutching your side. your eyes dart between the two fighters, your frustration building as you realize mingi is starting to falter. 

“mingi, stop! you’re gonna get yourself killed!” you shout, panic running through your body and tone. yeonjun smirks, his claws glowing faintly with a dark energy. 

“she’s right, you know. you can’t win this.” the demon lunges, his claws piercing through mingi’s chest. blood pours from the wound as mingi gasps, his body jerking in shock. 

“no!” you scream, terror running through your body. you reach forward, wound shooting a sharp pain through your being and you fall forward. 

despite the mortal injury, mingi musters the last of his strength, his fist glows with energy. he slams it into yeonjun’s face, sending the demon flying backwards. the villain lands with a grunt, momentarily stunned, but his body begins to regenerate almost instantly. 

“you really are stubborn. i’ll give you that, but this? this is just sad,” he says disappointedly. 

mingi collapses to his knees, blood dripping from his lips as his strength finally gives out. you manage to stumble to your feet, sword in hand, vision swimming from blood loss. 

yeonjun notices the faint glow of the horizon as the sun begins to rise. his expression shifts from amusement to alarm. he then starts running back into the dense forest, you wobbling after him shouting. 

“you… you bastard! you coward! come back and finish this!” you say staggering forward and making it to the forest line. 

“you think i’m running from you? that’s cute,” he laughs as he gets further and further away. 

you, in a desperate move, throw your sword. the blade slices through the air and impales yeonjun’s chest. the demon falters, yanking the sword out with a grimace before fully disappearing into the shadows. 

“you coward!” you scream with as much strength as you could muster. 

derailment site – sunrise

you stumble back towards mingi, falling to your knees in front of him. his breathing is shallow, his face pale. you press your hands against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. 

“st-stay with me, mingi. come on, you promised me food, remember? you can’t back out now,” you tell him panicking. 

mingi smiles faintly, his voice barely a whisper, “are… are the passengers safe?”

you feel tears begin to build up in your eyes, “yeah. they’re safe. you did it.”

yunho arrives, climbing over the other side of the tracks after having helped the passengers and contacted the association. what was a look of relief turns into sheer horror as he sees mingi’s condition. 

“mingi! no, no, no!” he drops to his knees in front of his friend and beside you, trying desperately to heal him, but it’s too late. 

“take care of her. and… don’t let each other skip any meals.” with one final breath, mingi goes still. 

yunho lets out a loud sob, screaming into the sky as he calls out to mingi, his best friend. “mingi! no! please!” 

you sit silently in front of mingi, tears streaming down your face as you stare at your blood-covered hands. you look up to see a lone crow circling above them, its caw echoing in the still morning air.

ACT III: WINTER IS COMING

daegu district – funeral hall - day

the room is quiet, filled with somber faces and the scent of white lilies. a framed photo of mingi rests at the front, surrounded by wreaths from both family, friends, the hero association, and mingi’s fans. yunho and hongjoong stand near the back, dressed in black suits, their expressions tense and heavy. 

yunho’s jaw is tight as he glances towards mingi’s parents at the front of the hall. his mother dabs a handkerchief at her eyes, while his father gaze stays locked on the floor, one hand around his wife’s shoulder and the other clenched into a fist at his side. 

“have you talked to them yet?” yunho asks, whispering to hongjoong.

“no,” hongjoong says flatly. yunho frowns but doesn’t press further.

daegu district – outside funeral hall – after the service

the crowd slowly began to thin, eventually leaving only yunho, hongjoong, and mingi’s parents. the four stand in the funeral home’s quiet garden. tension hangs thick in the air as mingi’s father finally speaks.

“you have some nerve showing your faces here,” mr. song spits out angrily at the two heroes. 

yunho steps forward, his voice steady but strained. “we’re here to pay our respects.” 

“respects?” mrs. song’s voice trembles with bitterness as she talks, “is that what you call this? he’s dead because of you.”

yunho flinches, but hongjoong doesn’t react, his expression unreadable. 

mr. song points an accusing finger towards yunho, “you dragged him into this – into being a hero. if it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive.” 

yunho’s hands ball into fists, but he keeps his tone measured. “mingi chose to become a hero because he wanted to make a difference. he believed in what we were doing.” 

“and look where it got him! he should have stayed here, with us, where he was safe. but no, he had to go off chasing some foolish dream and get himself killed!” his mother snarled. the words cut deep, but yunho refused to back down. 

“he wasn’t chasing a foolish dream. he was trying to protect people – people like you.”

mr. song steps forward, his face contorted with more rage than grief, “don’t you dare try to justify this to us. you think we care about your excuses? our son is gone, and it’s your fault!”

before yunho can respond, hongjoong bows deeply, his head low. “you’re right. this is our fault. we failed him, and for that, we’re sorry.”

the gesture catches everyone off guard, including yunho. 

mingi’s mother scoffs, her voice cold as she sneers at hongjoong and his action, “sorry? what good is sorry? it won’t bring him back. just leave. both of you.”

hongjoong straightens, his face blank, and nods. without another word, he turns and begins 

daegu district – outside funeral hall – late afternoon

the two walk in silence, the weight of the encounter pressing down on them. finally, yunho breaks the silence. 

“why did you do that?” he asks his captain angrily. 

hongjoong doesn’t look at him, his voice quiet but firm. “because it’s what they needed to hear.” 

“they needed to hear the truth! that mingi was a hero, that he died protecting people! not some empty apology that makes it sound like we didn’t care!” yunho says, feeling all his emotions about to explode out of him. 

hongjoong stops abruptly, turning to face yunho. “you think i don’t care?” he says, voice rising, “you think this doesn’t tear me apart, too?”

yunho glares at him, emotions continuing to boil over. “then why do you always act like nothing touches you? like you don’t feel anything?” 

“because someone has to keep it together. someone has to be the one to face people like them and take the blame if it means they get even a shred of peace.”

yunho’s anger falters, replaced by a flicker of understanding. “you don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know,” yunho says quietly. 

hongjoong exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “i know, but it’s easier this way.” they stand in silence for a moment, the tension easing slightly. 

“mingi wouldn’t want us to be like this. he’d want us to look out for each other,” yunho says softly. 

hongjoong nods, gaze distant, “you’re right.”

the two continue walking as the sun begins to set. side by side, the tension between them slowly fading along with an unspoken promise of healing lingering between them.

seoul district – living room – night 

a group of older adults sit around a fireplace, glasses of wine in hand. laughter fills the room as they exchange words and stories. one of them, a well-dressed man in 50s, leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink. 

“you know, our little girl’s been reading college-level texts since she was eight. smart as a whip, that one!” he says and his wife next to him smiles. 

“she’s going to take the hero association to new heights, i’m sure of it. honestly, we couldn’t be prouder – even if she isn’t… well, you know.”

“adopted or not, she’s clearly got your drive,” the other woman says. 

“yes, it's a shame that she suffers from a strange condition, not being able to go outside during the day though hasn’t killed her drive though,” the first man said. the group laughs and continues their chatter, their voices a warm hum against the crackling fire. 

seoul district – home library – night

upstairs, a young girl, no older than thirteen, stands in a room with the walls lined with towering bookshelves. the room is softly lit, casting shadows across the spines of ancient tomes and leather-bound books. the girl’s small hands flip through a dense book written in an unfamiliar language. 

her attention sharpens as she scans the pages, her lips forming silent words, able to follow along easily with the unfamiliar script. a faint breeze causes the sheer curtains on the balcony doors to sway, though the night outside is still. 

the balcony doors creak open, a tall figure steps inside, his movements measured and deliberate. yeonjun enters, bowing low as the curtains blow around him. 

“lady nicha,” yeonjun’s voice is low and respectful. the complete opposite of what it was during his fight with mingi. 

the girl turns slowly, her youthful face serene, yet unnervingly cold. her dark eyes flash a vivid, burning red, illuminating her face for an instant before fading back to normal. she tilts her head, studying him like he was a mere insect to her.

“you’re late,” her voice, mature and calm, is the complete opposite of her youthful and innocent appearance. 

“i came as quickly as i could,” he keeps his head low as he speaks. eyes staying towards the floor and not daring to look at the girl in front of him. 

nicha closes the book with soft thud, even so a ripple of air rushes through the room due to her single action. though her stature is small, the air around her is suffocating, charged with unlimited power. 

“report.”

yeonjun straightens but keeps his gaze averted, respectfully. “the train mission was… partially successful. the hero mingi is dead.”

nicha’s expression remains unchanged, her eyes unblinking as she continues to stare at yeonjun. waiting for him to continue with his report. 

he hesitates for a moment before continuing, “but the other hero and the female villain survived.” the room grows deathly silent at his words. 

“didn’t i tell you to kill all of them?” nicha’s voice is soft, yet menacing. the air ripples with an unseen force. the books on the shelves around them tremble. 

“the sun was rising soon. i couldn’t stay much longer. if i had—

a sudden deafening crack interrupts him as the windows behind him shatter. shards of glass explode and fly inward. yeonjun doesn’t flinch, though his shoulders tense. the glass hovers mid-air for a split second before raining down on the floor. 

the room itself seems to quake, the walls vibrating faintly under nicha’s silent fury. she steps towards yeonjun, her bare feet crunching softly against the scattered glass. she doesn’t flinch as the glass shards pierce her feet. 

“excuses,” she spits, voice low and full of venom. yeonjun swallows hard but remains rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the ground. unmoving. 

nicha then tilts her head, like a curious child, “do you think i care about the sun? or your limits?” her voice echoes unnaturally through the room. reverberating as if spoken by many voices at once. 

yeonjun struggles to maintain his composure, “it won’t happen again. i’ll finish the job.” nicha’s lips curve into a faint smile, though her eyes and the smile itself remains devoid of warmth. 

“no, it won’t.” the tension in the air snaps as quickly as it rose. nicha turns away from yeonjun, dismissing him with a flick of her hand. “leave.”

yeonjun hesitates for a fraction of a second before bowing deeply and retreating. he steps carefully through the broken glass, his movements eerily silent. the balcony doors close behind him, and nicha turns back to her book. she resumes where she left off, her expression as calm as if nothing had happened. 

ateez compound – common room – night

the compound is unusually quiet. the common room feels colder than usual, the air heavy with grief. jongho, wooyoung, and yeosang sit together on the couch. none of them speak for a while, each lost in their thoughts. 

“it doesn’t feel real,” wooyoung says softly, finally breaking the silence. 

jongho, sitting with his elbows on his knees, nods but doesn’t lift his head. “i keep thinking he’s going to walk through the door. make some dumb joke about how we’re all too serious,” he says quietly. 

yeosang leans back, staring at the ceiling, voice distant and solemn, “he always made it look so easy. like no matter how bad things got, he’d figure it out.” 

wooyoung lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s devoid of humor, “that’s because he was stubborn as hell. he hated giving up on anything.” 

there’s a brief silence as the three exchange a look. despite their different temperaments, the loss of mingi has brought them closer in their unfortunate shared grief. 

“we should’ve been there,” jongho says, voice full of regret. 

yeosang shakes his head at the youngest’s words, “we can’t think like that. it’s not what he’d want,” yeosang’s voice is soft but firm. 

wooyoung’s eyes glisten, but he blinks them away, refusing to let the tears fall. “he was family. all of us… we’re family, right?” he asks, staring at his hands. 

jongho and yeosang both nod, their faces set with quiet determination. yeosang looks at the both of them, “and family sticks together. no matter what.”

ateez compound – infirmary – night

the sterile, white walls of the infirmary feel suffocating. you sit on the edge of the bed, side bandaged, but face still pale from the results of the last mission. the faint sound of the compound’s hum buzzes in the background and slowly in your mind. you stare out the window, moonlight illuminating your face. 

your eyes are hollow, expression distant. one hand absentmindedly touches the bandages on your abdomen. “i should’ve done more,” you whisper to yourself. 

a single tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. suddenly, your nose begins to bleed. you wipe it quickly with the back of your hand, frowning. your eyes immediately snap to the infirmary door, watching as san steps into the room, carrying a small tray with supplies. 

“i figured you’d still be awake,” he says, sitting down beside her. 

“i can’t sleep,” you say in reply, softly. san places the tray on the side table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“no one blames you, y/n,” he says quietly.

your jaw tightens, and you look away, voice trembling, “that’s a lie. either way… i blame me.” 

san reaches out, hand hovering near yours before pulling back. “you fought harder than anyone else could’ve in your condition.” 

“it wasn’t enough! mingi’s gone because i wasn’t strong enough to stop that bastard!” your voice cracks, and a faint glow of your powers flickers around your fingers. the air in the room becomes momentarily heavy. san tenses but stays calm. 

“y/n,” he calls out to her, soft but firm. the sound of his voice pulls you back, and the glow dissipates. you exhale shakily, guilt washing over you.

“i’m sorry,” you say quietly. 

“you don’t have to apologize.” there’s a long silence before san gestures to the bandages on her abdomen. “let me change those for you.” 

you hesitate but eventually nod, lifting the hem of your shirt to reveal the bloodstained bandages underneath. san’s fingers brush against your skin as he helps you take your shirt off before he carefully unwraps the bandages, his touch gentle but precise. the intimacy isn’t lost for either of you. you watch him closely, the room growing quieter as the tension between you builds. 

“does it hurt?” he asks, glancing up at you. 

“not as much as it did before,” you tell him softly. 

san chuckles faintly, his voice low, “you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

his fingers linger for a moment over your wound, his finger edging around the stitches some agent from the association had done when they arrived at the derailment site. you feel your breath caught in your chest when you feel him push down on the stitches. like he was testing the durability of your stitches. you feel your heart begin to pound in your chest the more he presses down. 

“san…” you manage out, his eyes flicker up to meet your own. 

“does that hurt?” he asks, eyes never yours, fingers pressing down into your wound. 

“a little…” you trail off, feeling the sting begin to build up. as the pain from his touch begins to spread, you feel a certain heat also begin to spread over you. the pain and heat mixing in your body making your heart jump in your chest, breath hitching. 

your hand comes up to grab a fistful of san’s shirt when you feel your stitches finally giving out. a gasp leaves your lips, but san muffles any remaining sounds that want to escape. his lips pressing to yours in an open mouth, tongue abusing yours as two of his fingers jab into your wound – into you. 

san’s mouth trails from your mouth and down your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your skin. he trails his tongue over your jaw and down your throat where he meets your death collar. you hear grumbled over the collar before skipping over and continuing down. he meets your lips again when you pull him back up to kiss you, his fingers teasingly moving in and out of your wound. 

the pain making your moan and clench your eyes shut, jaw clenched, san is panting heavily in your ear like a dog in heat at the feeling of your insides. 

“f-fuck,” he pants out, you cringe at the lewd, wet sounds your wound and his fingers are making together. you feel a little embarrassed about it, but the way he reacts makes the heat from your core reappear – as if it even disappeared. you’re just as sick as he is, you think to yourself. your hand comes down to his crotch, palming the noticeable tent in his pants. san lets out a moan, lips crushing yours when your hands travels inside his pants and grabs his cock. 

your tongues do a wild dance, spit running down your chins as his free hand grips your hair and keeps your head in place. the sting from his grip mixed with penetration of your wound sends a pleasurable wave over your body. your hand gives san’s tip a squeeze making him thrust up into your hand. 

“fuckfuckfuck,” san pants out, as you feel him curl his fingers, “feels so good,” he adds, eyes glazed over with a look of lust. 

“s-san,” you moan out as you suddenly both his hands are moving, his left fingers covered in blood that he spreads over the expanse of your body as he moves you to lay down. you let go of his cock, eyes watching as it stands red and angry at being let go. precum beads at the top of his tip trailing down the length of it and the sight makes you even more hornier than you were. 

blood begins to run out of your newly open wound, but san effortlessly uses his powers to stop it. how convenient. you let out a small wince when he bends you in half, yanking your pants and underwear to your knees. “sorry– can’t wait,” he rushes out as you feel his tip rub between your folds that were already slick and easily helping him slip inside of you.  

the two of you let out a string of moans as san enters you, his cock stretching you out and there’s a slight sting to his stretch. only thanks to not having him inside you for the past several months. you honestly were starting to forget how good it felt to have him inside you. san immediately begins to thrusts inside of you, holding onto your legs as leverage. 

“fuck– i forgot how good this pussy is,” he hisses out as his cock hits your g-spot, over and over again. you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling, mouth hanging open and moans spilling into the air. the lewd wet sounds from just moments ago, return as san continues to fuck your pussy. your wetness smearing up your thighs and over your ass as his pace doesn’t stop once he finally found a good pace. 

“damn infirmary beds… too fuckin’ small,” he spits out as one of his legs almost fall off the side from how he tries to spread you out more. you feel the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot, head thrown back you feel your climax continue to build up. 

“s-s-san-nie! i’m close!” you tell him, you feel his fingers digging into the backs of thighs as he begins to drill into you with his cock. if you weren’t getting your insides rearranged then you would have been worried about the infirmary bed. thankfully, san’s powers have to do with blood and not strength. 

however, his natural strength was nothing to laugh about. 

you let out a choked sob as you feel yourself coming. san sheathes himself deep inside of you as he also comes. his thick cum painting your walls and even dripping out as san tries to fuck it back into you. he pulls out, running the head and base of his cock between your creamy folds, watching with a daze expression. 

you let a hiss of pain out when your orgasm subsides and the pain from your open wound begins to overtake you. 

san seems to snap out of it as he’s quickly fixing himself and you. he looks at your wound, gently touching it, his fingers still coated in your now dried blood. 

“let me fix you up,” he says, grabbing what he needs and begins to patch up your wound. “there,” he says softly once your wound is closed once more. 

“san…” you say quietly as you sit up. his eyes meet yours, expression unreadable now, but filled with something. 

“does it still hurt?” he asks softly, reaching over to grab new bandages and you shake your head. “good,” he adds, wrapping the new bandages around your abdomen. 

“thanks,” you tell him when he’s done and finally help you put your shirt back on. the earlier mood seemingly settling back between the two of you. mind racing as you think back to how if you had been stronger than you won’t have suffered the wounds you did. you could’ve helped mingi and maybe he would still be here.

“you don’t have to carry this alone,” he tells you softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blink, tears welling up again. 

“i… i don’t know how to move forward,” you confess. san places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your collarbone. 

“one step at a time. me and seonghwa… we’ll be there with you. for you,” he says, your faces inches apart. the tension between you both is almost visible. neither of you move, the moment hanging in the air before you look away, breaking the spell. 

“thank you.”

san doesn’t respond, but his hand lingers on your shoulder for a moment longer before he pulls away. the two of you sit in silence, the weight of your grief and unspoken emotions filling the room.

ateez compound – common room – day

the compound has become quieter the last few days, somber stillness that reflected the weight of mingi’s death. you sat alone at the kitchen table, which was connected into the common room, staring at the half-empty cup of tea in front of you. the guilt you had been feeling was unbearable. a constant ache in your chest that refused to fade. you replayed the moment over and over again, mind torturing you with the what-ifs. 

wooyoung leaned against the wall nearby, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. every so often his sharp gaze would flicker over to you, who remained unmoving. the tension between them and the rest of the team had been simmering for days, about ready to boil over at any second. 

“you’re really just sitting there?” he finally asked, voice low but cutting. you chose not to respond to him. fingers tightening around the mug instead. “answer me!” wooyoung snapped, stepping closer. now in the kitchen area. “do you feel anything? mingi is dead! and you’re sitting here like it’s just another day!”

you flinched slightly at his words, guilt twisting even tighter, but before you could muster a reply, san stood abruptly from his spot by the other large window in the common room. “that’s enough, wooyoung,” he says, his voice full of warning and danger, not to mention laced with a certain coldness. 

“enough? are you kidding me?” wooyoung sounds offended by san’s words, his eyes blazing as he directs his attention to san. “mingi died because of her! if she hadn't been so–

“don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence,” san cuts him off, stepping close until they were just nearly nose-to-nose with each other. his fists clenched at his sides, just barely able to restrain himself from punching the hero. “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“i know exactly what i’m talking about,” wooyoung shot back. “she’s clearly a liability. always has been since day one, and now mingi’s gone because of it. i’m surprised yunho isn’t dead too because of her.”

“wooyoung, stop!” yeosang tries to step in, but he was immediately drowned out by the argument. 

san’s jaw tightened, “mingi’s death isn’t her fault. she risked her life to save those passengers and was injured because of that demon. how was she supposed to know an even stronger one was going to show up right after? huh? tell me that.”

wooyoung let out a bitter laugh, one full of anger and disbelief. “you always defend her, don’t you? no matter what she does, you’re always there to protect her. i thought she was one the world’s worst villains, can she not protect herself?”

“and you’re always looking for someone to blame,” san retorts, “mingi wouldn’t want this – wouldn’t want you tearing the team apart because you can’t deal with your grief and personal issues! you’ve been hostile since day one, wooyoung, don’t you have anything else better to do than be this petty?”

wooyoung’s hands balled into fists, elements of fire and ice sparking off both hands, “don’t you dare talk to me about grief! at least i actually cared about mingi. at least i–

“enough!” jongho’s voice echoes through the room as he steps between them, shoving them apart with a firm grip on each of their shoulders. “both of you stop this right now. fighting each other won’t bring him back.” 

san shrugs jongho’s hand off with a huff as he reluctantly steps back. wooyoung scowled but didn’t push further; however, the anger in his eyes didn’t fade. from across the room, seonghwa, who had been silent observing, finally spoke. 

“this isn’t helping anyone. least of all mingi.” 

wooyoung muttered something under his breath that no one caught before storming out of the common room. his footsteps echoing through the hallway. 

yeosang, who had also been watching quietly, approached you. he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his expression soft as you look up at him with tired eyes. “come on. let’s get out of here for a bit,” he says quietly. you hesitate for a moment before nodding, face pale and drawn from watching san and wooyoung as you let yeosang guide you out of the room. you both walked in silence down the corridor, tension still heavy in the air for everyone. 

“don’t let him get to you,” yeosang says eventually, his voice calm but firm. he does his best in trying to assure you. 

you stopped walking and leaned against the wall, hands trembling. “he’s right, though,” you whispered. “i failed. i couldn’t save mingi.” 

yeosang shook his head, his hands gently coming to support yours, “you did what you could. none of this is your fault, and if it wasn’t for you there would have been a lot more casualties. you did a good thing.” 

tears began to well up in your eyes as you listened to speak, despite trying to blink them away. “it feels like my fault. every time i close my eyes, i see him. he fought so hard, we were supposed to get something to eat after the mission. he promised.” 

yeosang leaned against the wall beside you, his presence steady and grounding. “we’ve all lost people, y/n. but you don’t have to carry this by yourself. you’ve got us to help you through this. we are all figuring this out, together.” 

you looked up at him, vision blurry with tears, yet you still managed a small, grateful smile, “thank you, yeosang.” 

before he could respond, jongho comes rushing down the corridor, expression tense. you don’t think you’ve seen jongho look like this, not since when you first met him a few months ago. “someone’s approaching the compound,” he says breathlessly. 

you and yeosang exchanged a look before you are following after jongho to the main entrance. wooyoung is already there, fists clenched and fire and ice seeping off his fingers. he’s ready just in case. 

then you see them. a long figure staggered closer, silhouette weak and unsteady. it was a young woman. as she came closer, you could tell the three heroes immediately recognized her. she had to be a fellow hero. 

“it’s winter,” yeosang says, eyes flickering over to meet yours. like he was filling you in on who this was. winter? you think you’ve heard that name being tossed around before when you were still in prison. some of the male villains idolizing her, having crushes on her despite her being a hero and them villains.

winter’s uniform was torn and soaked with blood, her face pale and bruised as she nearly collapsed at the entrance. you can’t help but notice how despite her torn uniform and injuries, the light pink shawl with stars on it remained… almost untouched as it draped around her arms. jongho and yeosang rushed over to support her, each of them taking an arm to help steady her as they carefully helped her inside. 

“my team…” winter began to say, her voice weak and trembling as she let out a small gasp, “we were attacked. a-a villain– demon, i don’t know what it was. they’re all dead! i’m– i’m the only one who made it out,” she tells you all, tears beginning to build up in her eyes. 

wooyoung frowned at the news, “you can stay here until hongjoong and yunho get back. they’ll know what to do.” 

you watch as winter’s gaze swept the room before she immediately caught her breath, eyes narrowing when they landed on you, san, and seonghwa. “i didn’t think the rumors were true. that the hero association made you work with villains,” she said, her tone in clear disdain at you and your two lovers. 

you looked away, eyes moving over your team. yeosang looked slightly surprised by her words while jongho, seonghwa, and wooyoung – surprisingly – remained neutral. san; however, looked at winter with a match of disdain, his eyes narrowing on her. like he was trying to figure her out. 

“especially her,” you heard winter say, you snapped your attention back to her, her eyes boring right into you, “everyone knows how dangerous she is.” 

“watch your fucking mouth,” san snapped, his voice sharp and glare icy as he stepped forward. 

“san,” wooyoung’s tone is one of warning, “don’t start.” 

“i’m not starting anything,” he shot back, “but i’m not going to stand here and listen to some crap nonsense.” 

“nonsense?” winter scoffed, “she’s a clear liability. i’m surprised the association even let her out.”

“enough!” san’s voice booms through the room, silencing winter who stares at the villain in shock, “you don’t know anything about her.” he hisses, pointing a finger at her in warning. 

but then wooyoung steps up, “and you don’t know what to back off,” he counters, stepping closer to san. “you’re so blinded by your feelings for her that you can’t see the truth. is her pussy really that good?”

before anyone could react, san punches wooyoung which in turn sends the hero stumbling back and falling to the ground. blood drips from wooyoung’s nose, jaw clenched as he turns to look back at san. 

“say that again, wooyoung. i fucking dare you,” san’s fist are still clenched, waiting for wooyoung to once again run his mouth. 

wooyoung stands up, blood smearing across his face as he attempts to wipe it away, but before he could do anything further with san, yeosang steps between them. “guys, stop!” his voice is sharper and more commanding than you have ever heard from the usually soft-spoken hero. “we have more important things to deal with right now, and none of them involve fighting each other.” 

seonghwa comes and places a calming hand on san’s shoulder, his voice low, “let’s go.” 

san hesitates, his gaze landing on wooyoung before turning and lingering on winter for a moment before turning away. “this isn’t over,” he mutters, allowing seonghwa to guide him and you out of the room. 

as you walked away, you notice san glancing over his shoulder, eyes narrowing once more. you know he was suspicious about winter, something clearly not sitting right with him about her. but he didn’t say anything to either you or seonghwa. keeping his thoughts to himself, you couldn’t deny the sense of unease settled around you three. 

ateez compound – common room – few days later

the atmosphere in the compound had grown overwhelmingly thick with tension over the past several days. winter, oblivious to the tension she was causing, settled into a room and easily integrated herself into the team’s space. her injuries healed surprisingly fast, and she often roamed the halls, stopping sometimes to exchange casual remarks with her fellow heroes. 

wooyoung, for one, didn’t seem to mind her presence. spending more time with her than anyone else has, sharing meals or discussing tactics. he calms he just wants her to feel welcomed, but yeosang tells you he thinks otherwise. winter’s willingness to integrate herself so quickly, barely mourning the grief of her teammates, made san’s suspicions grow with each passing day.

“she’s not who she says she is,” san muttered under his breath during a meeting in the common area. you had chosen to stay in your room, shutting yourself away from everyone. the absence of mingi and the growing tension making you unable to tolerate being in the same room as the others. wooyoung especially. 

wooyoung let out a dramatic sigh, slamming his cup down on the table. “for the last time, san, she’s a hero! she’s on our side!” 

“and you’re so sure of that?” san shoots back, voice low but clearly full of distrust. “she just shows up, conveniently alive after her entire team is killed, and we’re supposed to believe she’s fine?” 

“what’s your problem, huh?” wooyoung counters, standing up from his chair. “are you mad because someone else is able to see how much of a liability you two and y/n are? that you should’ve stayed in prison to rot?”

san’s eyes darkened, his collar digging into his skin, and his fists clenched at his sides, “don’t you dare bring seonghwa and y/n into this.” 

“oh, i’ll bring them into this,” wooyoung says, stepping closer and voice rising. “you’re so suspicious of winter, yet ever since the three of you joined, the number of demon attacks have also increased! and how convenient that when y/n is sent on a mission there’s not one, but two demons from the twelve moons that show up! how is that not suspicious!”

seonghwa, who had been silently observing from the corner, finally speaks up, “both of you, enough. arguing isn’t going to help anything, especially when we need to be a team more than ever.”

“she’s dangerous,” san says through gritted teeth, pointing towards the hallway where winter had disappeared moments ago. 

“and you’re paranoid,” wooyoung snaps back, brushing past san as he leaves the room. 

san exhaled sharply, jaw tight as he sat back down, his mind racing with uneasy thoughts. jongho who had stood at the front of the room let out an annoyed sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“great meeting everybody, glad we got things accomplished,” he says sarcastically.

ateez compound – y/n’s room – ████

your room was shrouded in a heavy stillness, the air thick with the weight of your grief. the blinds were tightly shut, casting the space in darkness. you lay curled up in your bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the blank wall. your heart ached with the guilt that continuously gnawed at you, an endless replay of mingi’s final moments in your mind. it was fucking awful. 

a soft knock broke through the silence, but you didn’t respond. had you even heard the knock in the first place?

the door creaked open, and seonghwa stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. his footsteps are quiet as he nears you, as if he understood the weight of the room and how it demanded silence. 

“y/n,” seonghwa’s voice is soft, laced with concern, “you need to eat.”

“i’m not hungry,” you reply, voice hoarse and barely audible. 

seonghwa sighed, setting the tray down on the bedside table before making his way over to the blinds and turning them just a hair to where light was shining in. the room now shrouded in a form of twilight. seonghwa lowers himself onto the edge of your bed. his gaze gentle but insistent, even if you can’t see him. your back facing him, you remain unmoving. 

“you’ve been in here for days. yeosang is worried. we all are,” he tells you, but you know that’s not the case. wooyoung surely isn’t and jongho just chooses to remain… neutral. you know hongjoong would have already killed you if he was here. it felt like a countdown just waiting for him and yunho to return. 

you chose not to respond, gaze fixed on the same spot on the wall. the silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and unyielding. 

without a word, seonghwa shifted closer. he reached out, his hand tentative and slow as he carefully reached up to brush some hair away from your face. his touch was warm, grounding. you didn’t deserve it. “y/n,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly. “please, don’t shut me out,” you feel your heart clenched. 

you eventually turned your head to look at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i failed him,” you whispered, voice trembling. “if i hadn’t been injured in that fight with yena then i could’ve saved him.” 

seonghwa’s heart twists at hearing the anguish in your voice. he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. you tried to resist for a moment before giving up, collapsing against him, burying your face in his chest. 

“you didn’t fail him,” he said softly, voice steady despite the emotions threatening to spill over. “you did everything you could.” 

“i could’ve stopped that bastard, seonghwa. i could’ve– 

you cut your own self off as the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. body shaking as the tears began to soak through seonghwa’s shirt. 

“no,” he says, tone firm but gentle. he titled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “you couldn’t have known. you couldn’t have done anything differently. don’t let this guilt consume you, y/n. you saved all those people on that train from that demon. you did something.” 

you stared at him, tears spilling over as your lips quivered. “i feel like i’m drowning,” you confessed, voice barely a whisper. “i can’t breathe. i can’t… i can’t do this.”

seonghwa’s arms tighten around you, his forehead knocking gently against yours. “you’re not alone,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “you hear me? you’re not alone in this. i’m here, san’s here, yeosang even. and i’ll always be here.” 

your sobs grew louder, emotions spiralling out of control. the room around you both began to shift. the walls ripped like waves, furniture flickered in and out of existence, and the air seemed to hum with an unnatural energy. 

seonghwa noticed but didn’t falter. he held you tighter, attempting to ground you with his presence. “breathe with me,” he whispers, voice soothing. “in and out. just focus on me.” 

you clung to seonghwa as if he were your lifeline, your ragged breaths slowly matching his steady rhythm. gradually, the room settled. the walls returned to their solid state, the flickering ceased, and the unnatural energy faded away. 

you pulled away slightly, face streaked with tears. “i’m scared,” you confessed, voice unstable as you continued. “i’m scared of losing control and hurting people i care about.”

seonghwa cups your face with his hands, thumb gently wiping the tears away. “you’re stronger than you think,” he tells you, voice filled with a quiet sureness. “you’ve been through so much and you’re still here. still fighting. that’s what matters most.” 

you feel your lower lip tremble as you search his eyes, finding only unwavering support and affection. unwavering love. “i don’t know if i can continue doing this alone,” you admitted softly. 

“and you won’t,” he tells you, “you have us. you have me.” 

for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of something other than guilt and grief. hope, perhaps? you let out a shaky breath and rest your forehead against his once again. “thank you,” you whisper, voice full of raw emotions and eyes looking at him with sincerity. 

seonghwa smiles soft, his arms still wrapped around you, “always,” he tells you, leaning over to pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

you felt your breathing steady and tears finally stop, you allowed yourself to lean into him, feeling the weight of your grief just ever so slightly begin to lift. it was good to be reminded that seonghwa was here – san too – and that you weren’t alone. 

ateez compound – winter’s room – night

winter walks down the quiet corridor, her footsteps light and measured as the compound has settled into its usual nightly rhythm. her expression remains neutral, composed – a perfect mask of calm that easily hid the storm beneath. each step brought her closer to her room, where she knew she could let her guard down for a moment. 

she pushed the door open with a soft creaked sound. her hand instinctively reaches for the light switch, but she immediately freezes. 

someone was sitting on her bed. 

the faint light from the hallway cast a silhouette that is both commanding and terrifying. lady nicha.

the door closes behind winter as she immediately drops to both knees, bowing deeply, her head pressed against the cold floor. her voice was steady as she spoke, “lady nicha, i wasn’t expecting you.”

the air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves bowed to nicha’s presence. she sat clearly relaxed on the edge of the bed, her posture deceptively casual, but her eyes shined with a predatory sharpness. she tapped her painted, burgundy fingers against her knee. each movement deliberate, echoing in the tense silence. 

“rise,” she then commands, voice smooth yet still laced with authority that left no room for discussion. 

winter raised her body off the ground, still kneeling with her head slightly bowed. her star-patterned shawl shimmering in the moonlight that peeked into the room. “such a disguise you have,” nicha says, voice tilted with fake amusement.

nicha’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “you’ve done well, wonyoung,” she purred, her voice a mix of praise and menace. “to think, they’ve welcomed you so easily and trusted you. allowed you to even sow discord among them, but, ah, i guess that part wasn’t so hard considering their distrust among each other.”

wonyoung tilted her head, her expression one of pride, “it’s as you planned, my lady. the seeds of doubt and tension are starting to blossom. they’re starting to fray at the edges.” 

nicha stood, the air around her growing heavier still. she approached wonyoung, her presence overwhelming. each step she took seemed to dim the light in the room, shadows pooling at her feet and seemed to have a mind of their own. “good,” she said, voice low and deliberate, “but your work is far from over.” 

wonyoung met her gaze for a moment, unwavering despite the oppressive and powerful aura that surrounded nicha. “what would you have me do, my lady?”

“take them out,” she says, tone sharp as a blade. “one by one, if you must. but the female villain, y/n…” she pauses, her eyes narrowing, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “she must suffer. break her and her power will surely destroy the rest.” 

wonyoung nodded, her expression determined, “i won’t fail you.” 

nicha’s smile widened, though it held no warmth. she raised a hand, her fingers brushing wonyoung’s cheek in a mockery of affection. the action, nonetheless, still sent a chill down wonyoung’s spine. “see that you don’t. i have no use for failures.”

the room seemed to pulse with nicha’s presence, the walls vibrating faintly as if the very fabric of reality bent to her will. “remember, child,” she continued, her voice a whisper that felt like a scream to wonyoung. “my power is what allowed you to stand here. do not make me regret granting it to you.” 

wonyoung bowed her head again, voice firm, “i will not disappoint you, lady nicha.”

nicha laughed softly, a sound that sent more shivers down wonyoung’s spine. “good,” she said, her form beginning to dissolve into the shadows that slowly gathered around her. “then go, prove yourself worthy of the power i’ve bestowed upon you.”

with her final words echoing inside the room, nicha’s presence dissolved, leaving the room eerily still. the oppressive weight lifted, but her dominance remained a lingering sense. like a phantom hand clutched wonyoung’s throat, reminding her to not fail. 

then, as the last traces of  nicha’s aura faded, wonyoung straightened up, standing up from the ground as her face hardened. “y/n,” she mumbled, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. “let’s see if you’re as strong as they say you are.” 

with a resolute breath, she turned in order to begin preparing for the next phase of her plan. nicha’s commands echoing in her mind, a constant reminder for the price of failure. failure that wasn’t an option for her.

ateez compound – common room – the next afternoon 

the morning light streamed from the compound’s windows and into the common room where jongho and yeosang were. a faint buzz from jongho’s phone interrupted their conversation, which leads him to glancing at the device before quickled opening the message. 

“what is it?” yeosang asks, noticing the subtle tension in jongho’s shoulders. 

“it’s from hongjoong,” jongho replied, voice low. “i told him and yunho about winter being here and what she said happened to her team.”

yeosang frowns, “do you think it's about that?”

jongho didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fully focused on the message as he read it. yeosang notes his face slowly drain of color, hand tightening around the phone. yeosang is afraid the younger hero is going to crush the device if he doesn’t let up. 

“jongho?” yeosang says, his concern growing. “what does it say?”

jongho hesitates, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat, voice with an unusual tremble as he replies, “they found her team… what was left of the bodies were recovered.”

yeosang’s brows furrowed at the news, “that’s awful, but why do you–

“winter’s body was found with them,” jongho cuts him off, voice shaking. 

a chilling silence falls between them, the weight of jongho’s words sinking in. yeosang’s eyes widened in disbelief, “what?”

jongho hands him the phone, letting him read the message himself, “hongjoong says we need to be careful. whoever’s here with us isn’t winter.”

“we need to tell the others now,” yeosang says, despite his mind racing at the sudden thought of potential danger within their own compound. 

jongho nodded, his expression grim as they split up. 

ateez compound – outside training grounds – afternoon 

you sat outside of the compound, enjoying the quietness of nature, but still trying to process everything that has happened over the past few days. your eyes flickered up towards the sky where you saw several crows flying around in a circle. five crows to be exact. their cawing sends a chill down your spine for reasons you can’t quite explain.

odd, you think to yourself. the last time you saw a crow was right after mingi–

the door behind your flies open and you turn to see yeosang running outside towards you. his urgency cutting through the peaceful air. “y/n, we have a problem.”

you meet yeosang halfway, placing a hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“winter isn’t who she says she is. her body was found with her team,” he says, not wasting any time

your eyes widened as you process his words, “you’re saying… she’s an imposter?” san was right then, his suspicions that something wasn’t right with winter were true. 

yeosang nods his head, “yes. hongjoong just sent the intel. whoever’s been with us all this time isn’t winter. we need to act now.”

you looked at yeosang, voice calm but urgent as you spoke, “then let’s move. we can’t let her make the first move. where are the others?”

ateez compound – training room – afternoon

in the training area, seonghwa stood next to winter on the sidelines as he watched san and wooyoung spar. jongho enters the room, heart pounding as he approaches wooyoung. 

“wooyoung,” jongho calls out, trying to keep his voice steady as he gives a cautious look to winter. “i need to talk to you. it’s important.”

wooyoung raised an eyebrow, pausing his sparring. after years of working with jongho, he realized that something was wrong with the youngest. he was nervous despite being able to mask it well for the others in the room. “what’s up?”

“let’s talk somewhere else,” jongho says, glancing at winter out of the corner of his eye. 

winter tilted her head, faint smile playing on her lips, “why can’t you say it here?”

jongho hesitated, but before he could answer, san stepped forward, having also picked up on the shift of jongho’s eyes. san’s own eyes narrowing that the female hero, “maybe he doesn’t want you to hear it.”

winter’s smile faltered, her expression sharpening, “i don’t see why that would be a problem? unless, of course, you’re trying to hide something.” 

san let out a dry laugh, the tension almost touchable at this point, “funny, i was about to say the same thing to you.”

wooyoung stepped between them, his own frustration boiling over, “can you stop? this isn’t the time–

“actually,” jongho interrupts him, voice slightly louder now, “this is the time.” he adds as he takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on his teammate. “winter’s team was found, and so was she. dead.” 

the room fell deathly silent. 

then the sound of an unsettling laughter broke it.

the longer the laugh went, the louder and unsettling it became. all eyes turned to winter, who straightened her entire demeanor. she no longer looked like the hero, but instead her platinum blonde hair turning a pitch black. eyes becoming sharper, more dangerous. what were once brown shifted into an unnatural green, her pupils also shifting to where 상위육 could be clearly read. her once delicate features twisted into a cruel smirk as she looked at the group. 

“well,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and fake disappointment, “it seems the charade is up.”  

san stepped forward, fists clenched, while wooyoung could only stare in shock and betrayal. jongho then spoke up, voice steady and firm, “get ready! this isn’t over!”

wonyoung’s smirk widened, her confidence unshaken, “oh, i’m counting on it.”

wonyoung’s shawl, now wrapped around her waist appears with a snake-patterned, shoot out from her arms, snapping toward san. the sudden attack forces san to leap back, just narrowly avoiding being impaled. wooyoung stumbles back in shock as the ribbons carve into the wall, leaving deep gashes. 

“she’s a demon!” seonghwa says right as the room erupts into chaos with the ribbons coiling and striking with lethal precision. wonyoung whirls, her snake-like ribbons extending and retracting at her will, smashing training dummies and throwing debris into the air. san ducks under one ribbon and slashes another with his hardened blood. the severed ribbon falling lifelessly to the ground. 

seonghwa turns to both wooyoung and jongho, “go, we’ll handle her!” jongho nods his head, turning towards wooyoung who is clearly hesitating for a moment. jongho grabs the older by the arm pulling him out of the training room. 

“come on, wooyoung, we need to send a message to the association!” wooyoung snaps out of his daze and nods, the two males rushing out and leaving the two villains to take care of the demon. 

“not just any type of demon, too, but a part of the twelve moons,” san says with gritted teeth. “but her upper six status means she should just be child’s play.”

seonghwa moves in from the side, his strikes calculated, but wonyoung twirls gracefully, her ribbons creating a barrier that easily deflects his attacks. she laughs, her voice echoing eerily throughout the room. 

“you think you can defeat me? how adorable.”

one ribbon wraps around san’s arm, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into a wall. he lets out a groan but manages to twist free and lands on his feet just as seonghwa launches a flurry of attacks. his sheer strength blowing through several of wonyoung’s ribbons. the demon’s movements are fluid, almost dance-like, as she dodges and counters. 

“she’s toying with us,” seonghwa says to san. 

“not for long,” he replies before charging forward, his blood shaped into hardened weapons. he slices through one of the ribbons, which recoils with a hiss, but two more easily snap towards him. seonghwa intercepts, his fist catching the ribbon mid-strike and easily ripping it apart. 

“impressive, but let’s see how long you last,” wonyoung purrs. she then slams her hand into the ground, ribbons erupt in every direction, tearing through the floor. san and seonghwa are forced to separate, dodging the onslaught. san sprints along the edge of the room, dodge debris, while seonghwa rushes head on, leaping into the air for higher ground. 

“seonghwa, now!”

seonghwa drives his clawed fist downward towards wonyoung. she blocks with her ribbons, but san takes the opportunity to strike from the side, slicing through another ribbon and grazing her arm. wonyoung hisses in pain, her composure faltering for the first time. 

“you’ll pay for that!” she snaps, her ribbons lash out wildly, one catching seonghwa in the side and throwing him across the room. he crashes into a pile of rubble, groaning in pain. san dodges and weaves, landing another strike on wonyoung, but she quickly retaliates by wrapping a ribbon around his ankle and yanking him off his feet. 

“let… go, damnit!” san swipes his blood through the ribbon, slicing it and rolling to his feet. he and seonghwa regroup, their breathing heavy. “been awhile since we’ve been this out of breath together, huh?” san comments with a smirk making seonghwa roll his eyes. 

wonyoung glares at them, blood trickling from a wound on her forehead, “enough of this!” she extends her arms, ribbons converge into a massive, writing mass above her head. with a deafening crack, she sends it crashing down towards the two villains. they dive in opposite directions, the impact leaving a large crater in the floor. 

“we need to end this now,” seonghwa says, a frown drawn across his face. san nods, his expression grim. they continue to launch several attacks, san striking high while seonghwa goes low. wonyoung struggles to keep up, her movements becoming more erratic as the two villains close in. finally, san manages to land a deathly blow, his blood blade slicing through her neck in one clean cut. 

wonyoung’s head falls from her body and to the floor, her body slumping to the floor on her knees. seonghwa and san are left panting, their bodies fighting to keep up with the fight they just went through. they both look down at the demon’s body, and that’s when they notice that wonyoung’s head and body isn’t disintegrating. 

instead, wonyoung’s head rolls around, body jerking to life as she begins to wail like a child, her voice piercing and unsettling. the sight of her still being alive sends a chill down both villains’ spines. 

“what the–

“this isn’t fair! this isn’t fair!” she wails out, fisting slamming against the ground as fat crocodile tears run down her face. “i was supposed to kill you all! devour you all! oppa, help me! oppa!” 

seonghwa and san freeze, expressions a mix of confusion and horror as they watch wonyoung’s body begin to convulse. her body jerks forward as the sound of flesh tearing fills the air as wonyoung’s back splits open. san is quick to realize another figure was crawling out of her body and jumps straight into action. 

his blade striking down, dusting covers the room as wonyoung’s cries fall silent for a moment. and for a split second san and seonghwa both think he’s managed to kill the new demon. 

“shh, i’m here,” a voice speaks behind both of them. both seonghwa and san whirl around to see the new demon crouched in front of a still sobbing wonyoung. reattaching her head to her body like it was nothing. 

“sunghoon-oppa, it's not fair!” wonyoung cries out as the male demon gives his sister a crooked smile. 

“it’s okay now,” he says, patting her head before standing. his eyes matching wonyoung’s reading 상위육 – upper six – and his expression is hardened. “i’ll take care of them. go handle the others,” he says, addressing wonyoung. wonyoung nods, her ribbons snapping menacingly as she quickly teleports away. 

before either villain can react, sunghoon teleports behind them, his movements too fast to track. “shall we begin?”

san lets out a huff as he grabs seonghwa and rushes out of the training room and into the courtyard of the compound. sunghoon easily follows after them, his body emanating dark, almost snake-like energy. instead of ribbons like wonyoung, sunghoon has dangerous, fang-shaped blades coming out of his forearms.

“you gave up your humanity, was it worth it? becoming a puppet for the villains just to survive?” san asks, eyes narrowing as looks at sunghoon. 

“i didn’t do this for survival,” he replies back coldly, but there’s a faint undertone of pain almost, “i did it to protect my sister. everything i’ve done – every choice i’ve made was to keep her safe.” 

seonghwa steps forward, voice sharp, “and now you’re dragging her into the abyss with you.” 

sunghoon’s smirk falters at seonghwa’s words, “the abyss is kinder than the world that the hero’s call justice. the heroes and their association… they don’t protect anyone. you should know that better than anyone here.”

without warning, sunghoon attacks with his blades clashing against san’s blood. san manages to roll away, sending blood spikes towards the demon who easily dodges them. 

“you talk big, but i don’t see much strength,” san says. 

sunghoon chuckles at san, “you haven’t seen anything yet.” 

sunghoon continues to launch himself at the two villains, his blades clashing and creating sparks as seonghwa and san either parry his attack or dodge them. one of sunghoon’s blades manage to cut against seonghwa’s arm, the male hissing as he looks down at it. 

“his blades are poisonous,” seonghwa hisses out. 

“then we’ll need to hurry up and kill him before the poison kills us,” san says, jaw clenched as he used his blood to create two swords, tossing one to seonghwa who easily catches it with his uninjured arm. the fight only begins to escalate as sunghoon launches a flurry of attacks, twirling in the dance with his blades, glistening with venom, attempting to slice and cut at both san and seonghwa. 

seonghwa trembles, feeling the weight of his injury and battle getting to him. he knew he could never fully control himself when he transform, but seonghwa knew that his monstrous strength would help push them to win against this fight. 

the air around them began to grow colder with a creeping chill that seeped into the bones of both san and sunghoon. san attempted to reach out to seonghwa, but with one shove it sent san flying back and tumbling to the ground. 

“fuck,” he mumbles as he watches seonghwa. his body contorting with an unsettling and sickening sound of sounds cracking as his frame elongated. joints bending in grotesque and inhuman angles. his skin took on a deathly pale, almost translucent hue – it was the complete opposite of his usual sun-kissed skin – veins began to pulse dark and prominent beneath the surface. 

his once calm and calculating expression now twisted into something monstrous, a predator. his teeth sharpened, canines elongating like his body did into jagged points where the sole purpose was to tear at flesh. san felt his heart sink as he continued to watch as seonghwa’s eyes even turned into black voids that looked at every and anything with an unnatural and sick hunger. his fingers stretched, nails hardening into proper, monstrous claws that were just waiting to tear into its next target. 

sunghoon looked at seonghwa’s monstrous form, completely caught off guard and his usual strong facade faded for a moment. “what are you?” he hisses out, “what kind of demon are you?” 

seonghwa responded with a loud roar that sent shockwaves across the area and he lunged at the demon with his large, grotesque form. seonghwa was able to attack sunghoon with his bone-like antlers, slashing into the demon and sending him flying backwards and leaving a deep.

san is able to adjust quickly, using seonghwa’s sudden transformation and attacks as distractions to land more precise strikes.

ateez compound – control room – night 

yeosang lets out a shaky breath as he reached the control room. running over, he begins to type frantically on the condole, sweating beading down his forehead as he attempted to contact both hongjoong and yunho, but also the hero association. suddenly, the glow of the monitor flickers as a shadow looms behind him. he feels his ear twitch as the sound of a faint hiss, wonyoung’s ribbon snakes dart forward like some fanged vipers. 

you burst in, sword slashing through the first set of ribbons before wonyoung can even register that you are in the room. the severed ends writhe on the floor before quickly retracting. the ends you cut off, fell to the floor seemingly turning back into pieces of fabric. 

“go! send the message, yeosang!” you shout to him as you stand between him and wonyoung. hesitates for a moment, looking between you and wonyoung. “now, yeosang!” you shout louder. yeosang nods before quickly sending the message. 

you can hear his ragged breathing, clearly surprised and a little terrified by the demon in front of you both. you turn to look at him for a moment before gesturing towards the door. “be careful,” he whispers before making a bolt for the door. wonyoung’s head tilts as she watches him flee. 

“heroes are so predictable, always running,” she taunts with a hiss. 

you roll your shoulders, sword gripped tightly between your hands, “looks like it's just you and me.”

wonyoung lets out a tsk sound before lunging at you, her ribbons weaving in intricate patterns, each one snapping towards you like a striking snake. you manage to parry most of them with your sword, slicing through some as sparks fly with metal meeting energy. 

“you can’t keep this up forever,” wonyoung says with a smirk. 

“good thing i don’t need forever,” you told her, breathless and through gritted teeth. you roll to the side as a ribbon smashes into the console behind you, shattering the screen. you charge forward, slicing through multiple ribbons, but one catches your ankle, yanking you off balance. 

you land hard, coughing as the wind is knocked out of you. before you can recover, a ribbon snakes around your wrist, picks you up and slams you into the wall. blood trickles from your forehead, some of it running into your eye, but you quickly wipe it away. 

“what’s the matter? too weak to save yourself?” wonyoung asks mockingly, her ribboned snakes almost floating around her like extra arms. you grit your teeth, eyes glowing faintly as you feel your power begin to flare. you channel your energy into your sword, severing the ribbon holding your wrist. 

“you talk too much,” you say fiercely. you lunge again, blade igniting with light. wonyoung retreats, her ribbons forming a barrier around her. you leap, slashing downward with all your strength. the barrier shatters into pieces of limp fabric, and wonyoung stumbles back, clutching a deep wound across her shoulder. 

wonyoung scowls, her ribbons writhing wildly around her, “you’ll regret that!” 

wonyoung summons more ribbons, these even more thick and serpent-like that before, ones with glowing eyes and fangs. they hiss and dart towards you, and you just barely manage to dodge them. one snake grazes your side, tearing through your uniform and leaving a deep, bleeding gash. 

you press your hand against the wound, feeling that the snake had torn through the stitches of your wound and made it even deeper. blood pooling out and staining your clothes a deep burgundy. you let out a small hiss in pain, managing to steady yourself as you look towards wonyoung with narrowed eyes, “i’ve faced worse than you.”

“i can guarantee you’ve never faced someone like me.” 

the fight continues to become more intense, the control room becoming a battlefield of destroyed debris and shredded fabric everywhere. your sword blazes as you cut through the ribboned snakes, but wonyoung is relentless as her snakes continue to regenerate faster than you can destroy them 

jongho and wooyoung rush into the control room, when they arrive they find the place basically destroyed and you on one knee, blade digging into the ground for support. 

wooyoung immediately feels his rage build up, turning to wonyoung who looks at the three with a mocking smile, blood dripping from her wound you had given her earlier. “you lied to us! tricked us!” he says furiously, his fist catching on fire. 

“and you fell for it so easily. how pathetic,” she says, clearly amused by wooyoung’s anger. 

wooyoung begins to charge, but you reach out to grab his arm, stopping him. “don’t let her get in your head. it’s what she wants,” you say weakly. 

wooyoung simply glares at you, ripping his arm out of your grasp like you’re the one with fire powers, “she doesn’t deserve mercy!”

“wooyoung, focus! don’t let your anger get you killed,” jongho snaps.

“oh, how sweet,” wonyoung says with a laugh, “the little team trying so hard to hold it together.” 

you give both wooyoung and jongho a look as you steady yourself, sweat dripping from your forehead and mixing with blood. you can slowly start to feel the blood loss beginning to affect you, but you push forward and ignore it. the three of you quickly begin to attack in unison, combining abilities in order to overwhelm wonyoung. jongho slams his fists into the ground, sending shockwaves that manage to throw the demon off balance. wooyoung sends several fire and ice blasts towards her ribbons, even sending ice shards that pin them to the walls. 

you take advantage of the opening, rushing forward and delivering a deep slash across wonyoung’s abdomen. 

wonyoung lets out a snarl, “you think you’ve won?” her ribbons explode outward, throwing the three of you back. jongho grunts as he takes the brunt of the impact, shielding you and wooyoung. 

“thanks,” you say breathless to jongho.

“don’t thank me yet,” he says. 

wonyoung begins to unravel, her ribbons coming together to form a massive snake that towers over you guys. she sends the snake striking downward, its mouth opening up and ready to swallow you whole. wooyoung; however, leaps at the massive snake head, fist ablaze as he strikes it and easily catches it on fire. it screeches as it burns and dissolves, but another snake wraps around him and constricts him. 

“wooyoung!” you yell as jongho rushes up and grabs the snake, able to pry it off of wooyoung. his raw strength easily overpowering it. the three of you regroup, panting and bloodied. 

“keep your head in the fight. we need to end this,” you say, pointedly towards wooyoung who refuses to meet your eyes in the moment. 

jongho nods, “together.” 

you guys decide to combine your power, jongho creating another shockwave to destabilize the demon, wooyoung’s ice shards pinning her in place, and you channeling your remaining energy into your blade. 

“it’s over,” you say, leaping forward and delivering the killing blow, severing wonyoung’s head. she lets out a loud cry as her head goes flying, your powers being able to create a large crater in the wall that connects you all to the courtyard where you can see san and seonghwa’s monstrous form fighting sunghoon. 

in the courtyard, sunghoon falters for a second as wonyoung’s cry echoes through the compound. his distraction allows seonghwa to attack with feral blows. while san lands a devastating blow, driving his blade across sunghoon’s neck and sends his head flying. 

sunghoong’s head lands towards where wonyoung’s head had landed. wonyoung crying out for sunghoon, tears streaming down her face. 

“oppa… i’m scared,” she says weakly, the tears continuing to fall. 

“it’s okay, little one, i’m here,” sunghoon says back, voice breaking as he begins to watch as wonyoung’s body and head dissolve. seemingly not caring that his own is doing the same thing. finally, their bodies and head turn to ash, the wind blowing them away. 

seonghwa falls to his knees, having transformed back into his human self. you limp towards san and seonghwa, collapsing next to seonghwa, arms wrapping around him as the tension in the air remains heavy. 

“it’s okay,” you say quietly as you hold seonghwa in your arms, just like how he has done for you. 

ateez compound – courtyard – dawn

the team gathers, battered and bloodied, in the courtyard. the compound was completely destroyed by the two demons. hongjoong and yunho rush in, their expressions dark and grieve-stricken as they take in the scene before.

“what happened?” hongjoong asks, voice low and slightly commanding. 

“we stopped them,” jongho answered, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he leaned against a piece of debris. 

you lean against a wall, glancing down at your hands, yeosang doing his best to patch your wound up. san sitting next to seonghwa, still comforting the villain, calming hand running down his back. wooyoung stares blankly, fists clenched.

“i trusted her…” he says quietly.

“she fooled all of us. don’t put that on yourself,” jongho says firmly. he turns to hongjoong and yunho before quietly filling them in on everything that happened. otherwise, you and the rest of the team sit in silence, the weight of the destroyed compound heavy in the air.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II

[hxlxnaaa]

hiiiii, i love your fics soososososo much

im a uni student for art and i was wondering if you could make a fic for rafayel comforting reader on art block ? i think he would be really sweeet about it.

thank u :3

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when faced with the frustrations regarding a lack of creativity and ideas, rafayel is quick to help you come up with a solution, and without realizing, becomes the solution himself.

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: rafayel

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first person pov, rafayel being proud of his gf, just really sweet, references to his anecdote 'addictive pain' (just mc taking a few art classes)

★ 𝐰𝐜: 1.5k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: i'm so sorry this took so long!! this is such a cute concept and tysm for the request, rafayel would fs be so sweet n nice ab his cutie struggling w art block. i hope you like it :,)

Frustration was creeping up through my throat, strangling the air out of me. Art was supposed to be my escape, but I had hit a literal wall. With balancing work and a social life, I had hardly found time to dedicate to my first love, and now it seemed as if all creativity had left my mind in an instant.

Tossing the sketchbook across the room that only held scribbles and scratches, I puffed out my cheeks, pressing my fists into the couch.

‘You’re better than this,’ I thought, ‘art is your passion.’

I picked up my phone, dialing Rafayel's number. It would be helpful to take a break, as I had been sitting around for hours crumpling up paper after paper, not a fruitful idea in sight. While I of course admired him as a person, I also looked up to him as an artist, even if I was often too shy to show my own talents to him.

“Hey cutie,” Rafayel's sweet voice came over the line, “whats up?”

“What’re you doing?” I hoped he wasn’t busy, cause I was about 30 seconds away from intruding into his house.

“Just working on this painting Thomas is on me about, why? Thinking about me?”

“Do you care if I come over?”

“That’s a silly question, I’ll see you when you get here.”

Click.

I rolled my eyes, ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

-

Sprawled out on his couch, I watched Rafayel drag his paintbrush across the canvas with little effort. I was jealous of how natural it all came to him, reminiscing on a time I was able to convey everything I pleased with that much grace, able to create anything with ease. Now my talent just sat in a corner, covered in dust, and I wasn’t even sure how to use it anymore.

“Raf.” I sat up, throwing one of the brushes lying around at his back.

He hummed a response, not bothering to turn around to look at me.

“When you run out of ideas, get art block per say, what do you do?”

“Sit in the bathtub, you know this.” Rafayel nodded his head towards the empty tub lying in the center of the room. “Yeah, but,” I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, “what about it brings you ideas?”

He shrugs, placing a kiss on my forearm draped loosely around him, “The water always brings me ideas. It’s easier coming up with things in a place where you’re comfortable.” Rafayel pays me a grin, “That’s why I come up with my best works when you’re around.”

“If you had to give advice to someone struggling with a lack of creativity, where would you tell them to start?” I stared longingly at the painting he was working on, craving the urge I once knew, the urge to create.

“Is that someone you?”

I flick his head, “If it was, would the advice change?”

He thinks for a moment, “If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to get a book of art prompts or something.” Rafayel cranes his head back to look at me, “You? I’d tell you to paint something you love.”

“Something I love?”

“Yeah, like food or a wanderer, I dunno. Your passions lie in what you love, so creativity for you will start there.”

Something I love.

-

I sat surrounded by old sketches and paintings I had made and kept throughout the years, and thought about what Rafayel said.

“Your passions lie in what you love, so creativity for you will start there.”

There were connections between all the pieces, and that connection was that they were of all the things I loved at some point or another. My favorite flower, the stray cat I had rescued growing up, Gran and Caleb, cherry blossoms when they first bloom; things that brought me joy and warmed my heart.

‘Okay,’ I thought to myself, tracing my fingers over all the papers, ‘easy enough. Just draw something I love.’

The sketchbook in front of me sat blank, just like my mind.

Something I love, something I love, something I love…

It started with a jawline, a mess of hair, wild eyes; then the sketch turned into an idea, and I was grabbing my watercolor paper and paint.

Heather purple hair, kaleidoscope eyes, fair skin adorned with carefully placed freckles and moles as if an angel had kissed him themself. His smile, I needed to capture his smile. His rosy cheeks.

I finished the painting, and grabbed another paper. His home, I needed to paint his home. The canvases that littered his space, the bathtub, the statues and vases, the tall windows that showed the sea outside.

Another paper, another paper, another paper.

The brush glided across the page as if unstoppable, using the same precision I used to fight wanderers, the trained eye, fast reflexes and grace. His hands, him painting, his laugh, everything I had memorized about him over time turned into the art that I had been waiting to spill from my mind.

Something I love.

Rafayel.

-

“Did you ever find that creative spark you were looking for?”

I turned around from cooking to look at Rafayel, who was standing at the island of my kitchen watching me work. His pretty purple hair was messed up from me earlier picking paint out of it, and his shirt loosely unbuttoned at the collar. With asking the question, his eyes glittered mischievously.

Rafayel himself was not the painter, he was the art.

“Yeah, I suppose I did.” I shrugged, going back to fixing dinner.

“I didn’t know you liked to do art,” He maneuvered his way next to me, poking my side, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Liked? No, art was something I adored. It was my security, an outlet. Even when everything was going wrong, my life in shambles, I always had the ability and opportunity to create. It was stability, it was love, my life and passion. I just needed to find it again.

I poked Rafayel back, “It was never something I thought I needed to share with you, plus I had gotten away from it for a while. Lost my spark.”

“Now I want to see!” Rafayel groaned, pouting, “Are you any good?”

“I took a few classes in university for fun, but not nearly as good as you.”

He went still for a second, “Art is subjective...So please show me?”

“Go into my room and my recent stuff should be in the folder sitting on my desk,” I pointed my spoon in his face, “but no messing around in there, you look at the folder and get out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

With that he descended down the hallway, and I heard the soft creak of my door opening. For a few minutes, the only sound in the apartment was the quiet sizzle of the food in the pan.

Then, it was too quiet for too long.

“Rafayel, you better not be in there snooping!” I shouted, only to get no response. A few more seconds passed by before I called out to him again, “Raf?”

“Why are you a hunter?”

I jumped, startled by his sudden appearance behind me. He was clutching the pieces I had done of him, looking down at them and back at me with awe and adoration. His fingers danced gently over the paper, analyzing every detail.

“What do you mean?” I frowned, his question catching me off guard.

“These are…I don’t even have words. They’re amazing.” Rafayel continued to stare at the watercolor paintings in his hands, flipping through them carefully.

A soft laugh left my lips, “You just like them cause they’re of you.” The compliment didn’t fall on deaf ears however, and my cheeks turned pink with his praise. For one of the greatest painters in our era to think my work is ‘amazing’? Yeah, that felt nice.

Rafayel smirked, “Well, yes. I think that adds to it.” He laid out all of the papers across the island, “I just don’t understand why you didn’t pursue this, why only take a few classes in university instead of doing it full time. You have a real talent…”

“That's a big compliment coming from the Rafayel.”

“You could do as well as me if you put this out there.” He waved one of the pieces in my face, before quickly pulling away, “No, actually, I want all of these. I’m going to hang them up when I get home.”

“You gonna pay for them?” I crossed my arms, trying to act tough. Grinning, Rafayel wrapped an arm around my shoulder and waved his hand around as if gesturing for me to see the world, “See? You’ve already got that art business mindset down, I can see the vision for your future from here.”

He looked down at me with a sweet, sincere glint in his eyes, “But really, I’m glad you found that creativity you were looking for. I would hate for you to abandon something like this.”

“It was your help,” I put my head on his chest, “you told me to draw something I love.”

Rafayel pinched my cheek, “Well I’ll always be willing to be your muse, cutie.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

[thestraybunny]

The Landing|Y.JH Part 1

Pairing: Guide Singer Jeonghanx Afab! reader Full WC: 11.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Neighbors to lovers, Rated: M (18+, MDNI) Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, unprotected sex (practice safe sex yall), idiots in love (and I mean they are idiots), Reader is in denial of her feelings and the obvious, reader is a single mother, toxic ex, mentions of past abuse, drinking, smoking. (Will add more as parts go on and please let me know if I miss any)

Summary: Jeonghan is an asshole. He is blunt, rude, and sometimes its wondered how he had friends at all. But the thing is. He is an asshole to everyone, but two people. A single mother and her son in his building.

A/N: Thank you again to @gam3bo17 for beta reading this. It means a lot! *Reader is a 95er like Jeonghan* As I said in my teaser I contemplated posting this, but I worked hard on this and I am very proud. You will see mentions of Joshua's installment (she is named in this), and you are going to see hints at some future fics, but these fics can be read as stand alone. I hope you enjoy! Please be sure to read my rule/guidelines Rules/Guidlines K-Series Masterlist

**September**

Baby🍑: Hey, Hanni! Can you do me a huge favor??? Baby🍑: I am running late here at work, and Ren is nearly home from tutoring. Mom won’t be able to get him for another hour and I don’t know when I will be getting out of here, could he hang out at your place until either me or her get there? Jeonghan: Of course! I just got off the subway and almost home. I’ll be there soon. He knows to let himself in, he has the code. Baby🍑: You are seriously such a life saver! I will be home soon, and I’ll bring the beer tonight.

Jeonghan smirked as he read your response, before slipping his phone back into his messenger bag to make his way through the crowded subway station; not needing to respond. Picking up his pace slightly once onto the street leading to his apartments since he didn’t want Ren, your eight year old son, to be waiting for him for too long. His place may be a young boy’s dream, he would rather not leave one free to roam in for too long.

Plus, he couldn’t wait to see either of you.

--

“I am so very sorry,” You gasped out, finally reaching your floors landing, only to find Jeonghan handing off Ren’s backpack and weekend bag to your mother. Both looking to be packed like it was every week he went to his grandparents. The three of them turned toward you before you spoke, already hearing your feet on the staircase.

“Mama!” Ren yelled out with excitement, releasing your mother’s hand to run to you, nearly knocking you back. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, your eyes dropping right to the thick dark mop of hair, a wide smile gracing your lips as you plant a kiss on the top of his head. Making sure to hug him back with all your might. “Mr. Jeonghan got a new Lego set and says he’s gonna wait until I come home so we can put it together. It’s a spaceship.”

“That is so nice of him,” You respond, glancing up toward the other two, catching a glimpse of the dark haired man leaning against the door frame of his apartment, arms crossed as he watched you both. You could see he was fighting a smile before he finally tore his gaze from you. “Thank you so much again for watching him.”

Jeonghan shot you a wink before bidding you all a good night and closed his apartment door. Leaving the three of you alone on the landing. Turning your attention to your mother, you could see the knowing look she was giving you as she walked toward you and Ren. Your son’s bags in one hand as the other reaches for the boy’s hand.

“I’ll pick him up after work Sunday afternoon. That way you and dad could have the evening to relax.” You tell her, letting her pull Ren from your arms and gave her a half hug.

“Don’t worry about it. Me and your father have decided to close the shop Sunday and Monday. So, we can keep him, and I’ll walk him to school.” She waves off your words, looking down at Ren with a smile. He was staring off into space, absentmindedly swinging his and his grandmother’s hand. When she looked back toward you, you were wearing a look of worry, and she waves you off again, “Don’t give me that look. It’s nothing. Your father wanted to take Ren fishing Sunday, and you know with his hip and leg, he won’t be able to move much the next day. Plus, he didn’t want me to open and work the shop alone. He ran the numbers and found it won’t hurt us to be closed a day or two. So stop that worrying now.”

You gave her a doubtful look, not sure if you should believe her or not. Your parents have been running the small restaurant since before you were even born, it was only closed a total of six times in your life. Your birth, when you got appendicitis, important school events like graduation, and the day that Ren was born.

“Besides, I’m sure you would like to spend some extra time with your boyfriend without worrying about Ren here,” She whispers, making sure that Ren was still off in his own world before speaking. This only earned a sigh from you.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Mom, it’s nothing like that at all. He’s a friend and neighbor who helps me out with Ren sometimes,” You shake your head, keeping your own voice low but you wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t want Ren to get the wrong idea about us.”

“You mean, you don’t want to get attached,” She challenges, straightening her back, and this made you look at her, feeling like you were looking at your future self. “I don’t mean or want to sound cruel, but as a single mother, your chances at finding a husband is slim. Most men wouldn’t look at you twice once they learn about Ren, and this man looks at you like you walk on water. I wouldn’t ignore that if I was you.”

“Thanks for that Mom,” Your voice had a dry tone to it, shaking your head again and adjusted your bag onto your shoulder. “He doesn’t look at me in anyway, nor is there anything between us. He’s my neighbor and a friend.”

“Mmmhmm, I made you some dishes, and they are right there,” She points toward the bright pink bundle on the ground next to your front door. Filled with containers of different foods your mother would make you. Always making enough that you didn’t have to worry too much about cooking through the week. “I was going to put everything away, but Ren’s things were already packed. If nothing is going on, then I would be concerned that he has such easy access to your apartment.”

“Me and Ren have just as easy access to his too.” You cross your arms, trying to not show that your statement was not helping your case whatsoever.

“You must be very good friends then,” Your mother quipped, and it was then Ren snapped out of his daydream with a look of confusion. “I’d call you later, but I am sure you will be busy.”

“Mom!” You gasped, as the two of them started down the stairs.

“Bye Mama!” Ren called out, and you had to lean over the railing to make sure he saw you waving.

“Bye Ren baby. Bye Mom.” You yell out before turning to look toward Jeonghan’s closed apartment door. Your mother didn’t know what she was talking about.

--

There was a knock a few hours later, a soft one that Jeonghan was surprised he was able to hear over the music. Pausing the random song that was playing on his Spotify, the dark haired man stopped briefly to check his reflection in the mirror. Making sure his clothes didn’t have any stains on them, his hair wasn’t too wild, and that he looked good before opening the door. Knowing full well who was on the other side.

In attempts to look cool and sexy, he leaned his arm against the doorframe while wearing his best lazy smirk. Bottom lips between his teeth, and his eyes raking over his guest with interest.

“Stop trying to look cool, you look silly.” You tease, making his eyes look back up to your smiling face, though he wanted to go back to checking you out in the little black tank dress you were wearing. It was one of the ones you would wear when you were home, along with your favorite fluffy bunny slippers. The way it clung to your body made him nearly lose his mind, and it was so easy to slip off you. In one hand you had your phone, and in the other was a six pack of his favorite beer.

Holding up the case of beer, you spoke again proudly, “See, told you I would bring the beer tonight.”

If it was anyone else who told him that he looked silly, Jeonghan may have had a smartass remark ready, or even would return the joke with a more brutal comment about their appearance, but with you, he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he just let out a small laugh as he let you into his apartment but grasped your wrist when you went to walk past him, likely to the kitchen to put the beer away, to make you face him.

The smile on your face softened to a sultry smile, one that didn’t help his sanity one bit, before you closed the distance to kiss him. Quick, but it made him want to grab the back of your head to pull you into another. One that would involve his tongue teasing yours and would probably cause you to drop what was in your hands, but he let you go instead, not wanting to clean up broken glass and spilled beer. Letting you continue your journey into his kitchen to put the beer away. Sans the two that you kept out for you both to drink.

His dark eyes followed you as you walked, loving the way your hips naturally swayed or how the dress hugged your ass. Heat rushed over his body straight to his cock when you bent forward to put the beers away, the dress riding up only slightly to give him more of a glimpse of your thighs.

He couldn’t fucking wait to pull it off you.

“Did you help Ren pack his things today?” You asked him when he joined you into the kitchen, handing him a now open beer. Your phone left upright on the counter, only ever close in case there was an emergency with Ren.

“Yeah, he wanted to show me his new dinosaur collection that you got him, so I figured might as well do it while we were at it. One less thing for you or your mom to worry about,” He answers with a shrug, before looking at you with a look of concern, trying to not show a small wave of panic rushed through him. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay.” You tell him, taking a swig of your own beer while leaning against the kitchen counter. Jeonghan moves to join you, taking another swig. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to though. I don’t expect anything like that from you. Just watching him when I need it is enough.”

“Just that?” Jeonghan questioned you, the bottle barely brushed against his lips, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. Setting your beer bottle down, you push off the counter and stood in front of him.

That sultry smile back on your face, your hands reaching out to touch his chest and the tips of your fingers brushed over the skin that was exposed under his oversized button up. Enjoying that he would leave the several buttons undone, making it easy for you to tease the exposed skin. Soon your arms around his neck, and he moves his beer to the counter to place his on your hips. Bunching your dress in his fists, pulling it up enough that the bottom curve of your ass was exposed.

“When it comes to him, yes. However, for me…” You drop your gaze down to his lips, and Jeonghan’s grip tightened on the stretched fabric of your dress. He held his breath as he watched you move your lips closer to his, heart pounding in his ears every time you were this close to him. He wanted you to run your fingers through his dark hair, commenting how much it has grown since you met, and that you loved the length. The hair barely brushing the bottom of his neck.

He wanted you to tell him how much you wanted him. How much you missed his touch. He just wanted you to tell him anything so you would keep touching him and he kept touching you.

“For you what?” The was a husky tone to his voice.

“Well, for one, there is so much you could be doing to me right now.” Your voice was low, almost a whisper and fuck did it feel like silk wrapping around him like a blanket. Your breath hitting his lips, and he could smell the little bit of beer you drank but he didn’t care. He wanted you to tell him so he could act on it. “And with those things, I expect plenty of orgasms for both parties involved. I heard that the neighbor isn’t going to be home tonight, so we know she won’t be making any noise complaints.”

This made him laugh, since you were the neighbor, a smile on his face that one was designated for you, before kissing you. He loosens his grip on your dress to move one up to the back of your neck, the other staying on your hip. Your own hands moved to cup his face, your tongues gently teased each other’s. A low moan starting to erupt from the back of your throat.

It ignited a fire inside him, his craving to have you taking hold. He wanted you in so many ways that night, and well into the morning. To pull you back into bed when you try to slip out and back to your apartment, trying to claim that you needed to get things done while Ren wasn’t home. Except you never resisted when he did pull you back into the comforts of his arms and his blankets. Starting all over again.

Both of you never able to feel sated long, continuing to chase that feeling well into the morning. Keep going until you were laying together, just staring at his ceiling. He didn’t think that nearly a year ago, that taking pity on a little boy sitting on the landing next to his apartment would bring him here. With you here in his arms, and the happiest he has ever been. All thanks to you and Ren.

The only thing that he would make him even happier, and wished different was your relationship. Or lack thereof. You were neighbors/friends with benefits, two people who found friendship and the comfort of being in each other’s. Nothing more than that.

Ren didn’t know about the two of you, nor did you want him to know. You didn’t want to confuse your son, and that effectively cutting off the possibility of anything more than this.

If this was all you were able to offer, then he would take what he could get.

--

**almost a year ago**

“You need to fucking talk to her about this shit, not me.” Jeonghan scolded into the phone, absolutely over his best friend calling to complain about his girlfriend and the problems they were having. Problems that could easily be solved by just fucking talking. It was driving him nuts. “At this point, I can’t stand either of you. I am honestly considering changing my damn fucking number.”

Jeonghan loved his best friend more than words could describe, he hated watching him and the girl of his dreams have issues, but he could only hear so much. Especially when the other man wouldn’t take his, Seungcheol’s, or anyone else’s in the group’s advice. Which was just be honest and talk to her. What he would give for a night without hearing Joshua’s problems.

It wasn’t a good look on his usually calm and collected friend and took away from Jeonghan’s all-round cranky glory. It was quite annoying as much as he felt for him and was honestly just effecting his own mood.

“Blah blah blah. Call Coups about this. Maybe you’ll finally take his advice instead.” Jeonghan snapped, fed up about hearing it any longer, and hung up on the other man as he reached his door. “Fucking stubborn ass couple. They’re meant for each other.”

He was so focused on his call and the desire to get into his apartment with a cold beer that he didn’t see the young boy sitting against the wall next to his door. It wasn’t until he went to put in his code that he noticed him, probably no older than seven or eight, with a manga open in his lap. Except the boy wasn’t reading, he was just watching Jeonghan with curiosity. His bangs were falling over his eyes and the glasses he was wearing, still in his school uniform.

He had seen him a few times in passing. His neighbor’s kid.

“What are you doing out here?” Jeonghan found himself asking without thought, his hand still hovering over the keypad. The boy continued to watch him for a moment before finally speaking.

“My mom told me that the battery died on the lock’s keypad, and she’s not able to change it until tonight, so I needed to remember my key.” The boy answered, before looking down sheepishly at his book. “But I forgot them when I left for school this morning. And she’s still at work.”

“Why don’t you go to her work?”

“It’s far away and I don’t know how to get there.”

“And you can’t call her?”

“I’m seven. I don’t have a phone.” He answered, and Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle. He had him there.

“She gonna be home soon?” Jeonghan didn’t know why he was talking to the boy, or even why he even cared so much, but there was something about him that struck something in him. Not liking the idea of him sitting out on the landing until his mom got home. The boy looked at his watch.

“It’s four-thirty, she doesn’t get home until six.” He tells him. If he remembered correctly, primary school students get out around one in the afternoon. Has he been out here this whole time?

Now he really didn’t feel comfortable leaving him out there alone.

“How long you been out here?”

“Not long. I went to play with my friend Soobin at the park for a bit, but he had to go home to help with his baby sisters. He has three!” He held up three fingers, “I didn’t remember that the lock was dead until I got home, or I would have asked him if I could go with him. I managed to get some of my homework done though.”

“Well, if you want, you can come hang out with me until she gets home. Use my phone to call her,” The dark haired man then offered, and the boy watched him carefully. Clearly weighing his options and trying to gauge if it was wise to go into a strangers apartment. Even if it was his neighbor.

Jeonghan didn’t think he was giving off any creeper vibes, but he couldn’t fault the boy for considering his choices. Sure that his mom had educated him to be weary to strangers.

“You promise to not kill me?” He then asked, and this made Jeonghan snort a laugh. Simply because he was caught off by the question.

“I promise that I won’t kill you, kid.” He assured, and the boy scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack in the process to follow Jeonghan into the apartment. The moment he had walked through the threshold of Jeonghan’s, his eyes grew wide at the different kinds of posters, figures, model vehicles and buildings, and other things that he loved to collect. Closing the door behind them both, Jeonghan pulled his messenger bag off and moved toward the kitchen. “You got a name?”

“Of course I do!” The boy chuckled, turning away from one of the large displays to look at the older man. “My name is Ren.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jeonghan.” He turned to pull out a couple of sodas out of the fridge. “Thirsty?”

After getting them both drinks, Jeonghan gave Ren his phone to try and call his mom to let her know where he was but only got her voicemail. He left one and the two of them hung out for that hour and a half, with Jeonghan checking periodically to see if his mom had made it home yet. It wasn’t until six-twenty when she had trudged up the steps. Exhaustion and what looked like defeat playing over her features, bag nearly falling off her shoulder, and a large bag of takeaway in her hands.

Clear signs she already was having a long day.

She looked relieved to see Ren when he came out of Jeonghan’s apartment, looking like the weight lifted off her when she saw him. Setting the bags down, she engulfed the boy into a tight hug, and just watching the two made Jeonghan smile. Then she looked up and met his eyes, and the world around him shifted. Everything else disappeared and it was only her. You.

It was the night you and Ren walked into his life.

--

Your eyes felt like they were permanently rolled back as Jeonghan’s cock thrusted into you, filling you and hitting the right spots from this angle. Legs hooked at the bend of his arms, pressing you flat into his mattress, completely open at his mercy. Being filled over and over by his thick cock, bare and felt every inch. It was heaven to you have him inside you like this, your moans and whimpers of his name and praises louder as they were mixed with breathless curses.

Truthfully, it was an incredibly stupid move on both your parts, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. Too lost in each other’s bodies, too busy trying to reach peak after peak together. Ones that no one had ever brought you to, let alone putting you ahead of their own, instead of leaving you behind. 

Jeonghan’s eyes stayed fixed on your face, his own moans leaving him with his own string of words. Validation while mixing traces of names that would otherwise offend you, encouragement as he watches you come undone under him. Telling you how good you were for him, how gorgeous you looked taking him the way he had you. Begging you to cum for him, that he wanted to feel you around his cock. Coating it with your own release.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” His question sounded a little strained, before letting out a moan that sounded like beautiful music; melodies that were only meant for you. You watch his bottom lip find its way firmly between his teeth, his face unable to hide how good you felt, how good he felt as your orgasm rushed over you. Clinging to him that brought him closer to his.

“In… Inside… please…” You pant out, not wanting him to cum anywhere else. Jeonghan and you had only been with each other since starting this, the last time you were with anyone else was three years previous, and you both were clean. You were on birth control, and it wasn’t like this was the first time he had finished in you.

It was a regular thing.

You had to admit it too, you loved the feeling of being full of him, even after he pulls out of you. It felt like he was leaving his claim in you without the world needing to see. That in a way you were his. Something that only the two of you shared, and it was the closest you would allow yourself with him.

His mouth captures yours into a kiss, tongues tangling, as he picks up his pace. With each thrusts growing sloppier and more desperate. Pulling away, Jeonghan’s forehead pressed up against yours, his eyes squeezed shut as he filled you. Coating your inner walls with stripes of his cum and refused to slow down until he had nothing left to empty in you. Leaving you full like you wanted.

Something he loved doing just as much as you loved him doing it to you.

Unhooking his arm from one of your legs, the dark haired man’s hand reached to cup your face, both of you trying to steady your breathing. Strands of hair tickling your skin as you stayed that way, neither of you making any moves to detach yourselves from each other. Staying attached while you both came down.

It was you who opened your eyes first, seeing him with his own shut but his face was now relaxed instead of the look of pleasurable concentration he originally had. There was a sheen of sweat over your skins, and you’re spent for the moment. Both of you trying to grasp for your bearings. This wasn’t the last time that night you were going to be in this position, or any other one for that matter, or even well into the morning.

Around Ren, the both of you were able to keep your hands to yourselves, giving off the illusion that you were just friendly neighbors. But he was gone to your parents, and it was just the two of you, it was a different story. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other, only able to go so long without going at it again. With all it taking is a simple look from you, the tips of Jeonghan’s fingers brushing over your skin just right, or when either of your lips would find a weak spots. Ready for each other quickly.

“I got to pee,” You finally broke the blissful silence, your body being the one to decide that it was time to part. Jeonghan made a noise of protest but reluctantly agreed.

Both of you groaned when Jeonghan finally pulled away from you, sensitive to the touch, before flipping onto his back to stare at the ceiling while you got up to hurry to the bathroom. He joined you a few minutes later after you finished cleaning yourself up, to do the same for himself.

“You hungry?” He asked once the two of you were now relaxing comfortably back on his sofa, you back in your dress (just no underwear), and him in a T-shirt and boxers. You had barely taken a swig of a freshly open beer, and not getting a chance to respond before he had his phone out to pull up the delivery app. Checking out all the options available.

“I can eat.” You answer him, picking up the remote that he had tossed to you. Letting you pick what to watch against his better judgement. “What were you thinking?”

“If I felt like leaving, I would suggest we check out this little food stand that my friend Mingyu knows of. He’s been talking about taking all of the guys for over a year now but disappears to go see his girlfriend before the nights over. It’s only open a few hours a night, but we been drinking and I don’t feel like walking. I am sure you don’t either.” He then shot a glance toward you, his eyes raking over your frame with a smirk, “I also plan to have that dress off you again and keep it off you for the rest of the night. Plus it’s cold so that would mean more clothes to pull off you.”

“That is a lot of reasons to not go. I’m good with whatever you want.” You nodded, flipping through the different apps to find something to watch. Pretending to not see the mock dirty look he gave you, since he knew full well that you had every intentions on having him choose. In the entire time you had been seeing each other, he had yet to pick something that you didn’t like and vice versa. Well unless it’s your taste in movies or television according to him, but for the most part, you trusted his judgement. “You have any idea of what you want to watch?”

“I’m good with whatever you want.” Jeonghan retorted back, and you shot him your own look, seeing the playful smirk playing over his lips; ordering from the same little restaurant that you always ordered from. “No fun, is it?”

“You have good taste in food, while you tell me I have bad taste in movies and T.V.” You retort, earning a chuckle from him. “You can’t complain on what I pick then.”

“Of course, I can. I can complain all I want. Maybe so much to the point you will need to sit on my face to shut me up.” The way his tongue ran over his lips as the smirk switched from a playful one to a suggestive one, adding a wiggle to his brows. This made you snort before bumping his shoulder.

“I think the term is ‘kiss me to shut me up.’” You tell him as he turns his phone toward you to make sure you were okay with what he was ordering, which you nod your approval. He places the order.

“I mean, technically I am telling you to kiss me. Just with your other lips.” This time he earned a smack on the shoulder, a gentle one, but he still feigned injured. Only he wasn’t able to hold back his laughter as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and grabbed the remote from you. “I’ve reconsidered letting you pick.”

--

**November**

“You didn’t call me back last night.” Joshua spoke up after swallowing a mouth full of ramen, looking up toward Jeonghan from across the table. It was their weekly dinner with their other friend, Seungcheol. So far the conversation consisted mostly about Joshua and his girlfriend getting back together, or Seungcheol complaining over work and wedding planning.

Jeonghan, however, had just stayed quiet and listened to the conversations in front of him with very little interest. Focusing mostly on his food and his fourth beer of the night. He gave his input when needed, which was mostly a snide comment or when a call out was needed, but he kept to himself mostly.

“And you still haven’t answered my texts from two weeks ago, but here you are responding to Luci’s messages in front of me. I would say me not calling you back is pretty damn warranted. So, what’s your point?” Jeonghan shot back, catching the way his best friend’s skin tinted a little red at the call out. Seungcheol could only watch the exchange, gauging the situation and Jeonghan’s temperament while chewing his food.

Jeonghan wasn’t just withdrawn at this dinner, but it has been going on for the last month and a half. Especially after his birthday, and this had not gone unnoticed by the other members of their friend group. Choosing to stay home more than usual or appeared checked out when he was around them. At least more checked out than usual. Always appearing to be lost in thought with whatever it was that had been on his mind. Which he was.

You had been pulling more overtime at work to cover a coworkers workload while they were on vacation, so you were working late until they had gotten back. Even having you go in on your days off to keep up with it, which made it hard to match up with Jeonghan’s own schedule. Making it harder to see each other.

Ren had been staying at your parents’ more, either staying late or just staying over completely most night, so Jeonghan had not gotten to really see either of you. Going from seeing each other near daily.

You and him did your best to work something out, but it didn’t feel the same. Instead of spending your free evenings and days off together, enjoying beers and each other’s companies, it was quickies before you had to get some sleep or if Ren was there. Trying to be quick in case he woke up to catch Jeonghan slipping from your bedroom.

What didn’t help was you weren’t feeling well either, unsure if it was a stomach bug, stress from work, or something else entirely. Jeonghan had considered the possibility, and considered bringing this up to you, but he wasn’t sure it that was something to casually ask between quick hellos on the landing or quick hooks ups where the main goal was to just cum. Eventually, he just went with the idea it was likely from stress with work.

Though the thought did linger at times.

But it ended up putting Jeonghan in a bad mood. He missed you. Missed both you and Ren. It put him in such a funk that he didn’t want to go out or really do anything for that matter, just sit around and mope. Hell, he didn’t even want to be at this dinner with the other two ninety-fivers of the group, but he needed to get out of his apartment. Do something other than wait around hoping he would get a text that you were coming over or you would knock at his door.

“You doing okay, Hanni?” Seungcheol then asks, and Jeonghan only sat back from his meal, grabbing his beer to drink in the process.

“Have you ever thought, I know it’s a hard concept for both of you, that maybe that I just don’t feel like talking? I been recording guides all day for other artists instead of recording and releasing my own music. Maybe I just want to rest my voice.” He didn’t stop the annoyance from coming through either, the other two men just watched him pull his phone out.

Acting like he was checking notifications, but really he was opening and checking your messages. Stupidly hoping for a text from you. It was pathetic.

Only the last text that he had gotten from you was telling him to enjoy dinner with the guys and that you were having an early night. Ren was with your parents that weekend, like he usually was, and you had refused to let Jeonghan cancel his plans to spend the evening with you or even come after he finishes up. Stating you were beyond exhausted and still was not feeling too well. Work had taken it out of you more that week than usual and was worried you would bore him with how much of a dud you were feeling.

Which would be so far from the truth, because if it was, he wouldn’t be looking at his phone constantly. Hoping from a text from you to come over. He didn’t give a shit about having sex, it was nice, but he just wanted to see you and maybe fall asleep with you in his arms. Just so he could wake up next to you the next morning. He just wanted to spend time with you, have you around him. This new arrangement was eating at him.

It went from the two of you seeing each other regularly, spending nearly every weekend together, to quick hookups, hellos on the landing, or an exchange of flirty/risqué texts. It was selfish of him to feel this wasn’t enough, finding himself spoiled for getting as much as you as he did. Especially when you weren’t even his. Fuck did he miss you.

“That’s you normally, but nothing like this.” It was Joshua that answered this time, and Jeonghan went to shoot daggers toward him until he saw the genuine concern over his best friends features. It was written over Seungcheol’s too. “You’re more withdrawn than usual, and more irritable then normal. We all have noticed this change. What’s wrong?”

“Why does there have to be something wrong for me to be in a bad mood? I could have slept wrong, or the barista this morning could have fucked up on my coffee order. I could be in a bad mood for the hell of it. Doesn’t mean that something has to be wrong.” Jeonghan closed his phone as he says this, tossing it onto the table with more vigor then he intended, knocking over an empty beer bottle in the process, “Don’t read too much into that.”

“And I am in love with Coups.” Joshua retorted back, earning a look from Seungcheol as if asking why he used that as a response. The other two just ignored him as they continued their back and forth.

“Luci is going to be very disappointed since you two barely got back together. Pretty sure Meg is gonna fight you for Coups here.” Jeonghan didn’t miss a beat, showing he was still on the ball and not that distracted. Joshua and Seungcheol only rolled their eyes at this, while he let out a proud chuckle at the comment. “I would pay money to watch a showoff between them and you two. My money is on them though.”

“Yeah, yeah. You just want us to get our asses kicked by our girls. In all seriousness, though, we are a little worried about you. Both of us know that you aren’t normally in this much of a funk unless something was bothering you.” Seungcheol pointed out before signaling to have a few more beers delivered to the table. “It is work? Family? Girl Problems…Guy? Problems?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Jeonghan sighed, finishing his beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table, wondering if he really should say something about you and Ren. How he’s been casually sleeping with you for seven months, how perfect you are to him, how much he likes being around your kid. How he’s both the happiest and the unhappiest he has ever been, because he fucked up and fell in love with you. Was he even ready to say it out loud? “I’m just tired, okay? You’re making me regret not bailing on you guys.”

“Liar. If nothing is wrong, then why do you keep checking messages between you and this Baby?” The oldest of the three asked, placing one of the freshly delivered beers in front of him, and Jeonghan’s whipped his head toward him. Eyes wide. The normal cool demeanor briefly shattering at the mention of your nickname in his phone, giving himself away before he could recover. “So, it is…”

“It’s not. She’s literally no one.” The words were so bitter on his tongue, a blatant lie because he was panicking. He had wondered if he should tell them, but now that the moment had presented himself, he realized he couldn’t do it. What would he even say anyways? That he made what should be an easy arrangement more complicated? That you didn’t want anything more than what you had.

No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face that look of pity from either of his friends. That he was pathetic to put that as your name in his phone and now was backed into a corner.

“If she’s no one, then why is her name that in your phone?” Joshua asked, and Jeonghan now wouldn’t look at either of them. All the color appeared to be drained from him, his mind scrambling.

“She is no one. Just someone I fuck on occasion,” He hated the words that came out of his mouth, even if you were someone he was fucking, but you were so much more than that. It made him feel like shit saying those things and maybe it would have been better if he just was honest. To say the words at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t do that. So he did what he did best. Deflect. “How about you two worry and focus on your own shit then try and pry into my private life because you think you know what’s going on. If I have anything important to tell you, trust me, I would fucking tell you. Nosey ass bastards.”

“You’re an asshole most of the time, but fuck are you a mother fucker when you’re like this.” Seungcheol shook his head while Joshua did the same, finishing his beer in front of him before standing. “Whatever you and this Baby has going on, do what we kept telling Shua with Luci. Fix it, or whatever, because you are unbearable right now.”

“You’re leaving?” Joshua asked, sounding surprised, and Seungcheol nodded.

“Yeah, Meg is waiting for me so I can help her with the guest list and seating arrangements. I am already pushing it by having another beer.” Seungcheol pulled on his jacket and before patting Jeonghan’s shoulder to show there were no hard feelings, but just hard enough to drill in he still thought he was an asshole. “Dinner is on me, my friends. You know where to find me if you need me. Whether I will be brain dead from all this planning is up to fate.”

With that, Seungcheol bid them both a goodbye before exiting the restaurant. Leaving the two men at the table, while Jeonghan didn’t attempt to look toward Joshua. He knew that if he did, he would be met with a look from his best friend, and he might spill everything. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do it.

Joshua already had enough on his plate then to sit around and listen to the problems he created himself. Him and his girlfriend barely got back together and were still working on their relationship. Him, Jihoon, and Hansol were helping their youngest Chan on his new album, and he was looking for a new place since his lease was up at the end of the year. Even with all that going on, he knew that Joshua would take on Jeonghan’s plight while shouldering his own. Try to help him find a solution, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want his help.

Jeonghan had been the one that everyone in their large friend group would go to, he was the problem solver as much as he was an instigator. He wasn’t used to being the one who needed to go to someone for his problems, even to his best friend. He planned to just shoulder it all, since there was nothing to help with anyways. What the two of you had was all he was going to get, and he couldn’t lose that.

“Want to go back to my apartment to hang out? Get wasted and watch T.V.?” Joshua then asked, and that was when Jeonghan looked at him. The other man had sensed his reluctance to talk so he wasn’t going to push, even if he was wanting to know what was wrong, and if it had anything to do with this Baby. But he wasn’t going to make Jeonghan tell him anything he wasn’t ready to say. Instead he offered something that he could get onboard with.

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered to his phone, checking one final time to see if you had texted, but there was nothing. Maybe you actually were asleep, and maybe a night away from the apartment might do him some good. Not sure if he wanted to spend another night knowing you were only on the other side alone in your own bed.

Passing out drunk in a random spot at his best friends sounded a hell of a lot better than falling asleep holding one of his pillows. Wishing it was you.

“Sure, why not.”

--

The timer ticked down painfully slow, seconds feeling like an eternity each, and all you could do was pace through your living room. Trying to hold down the vomit that was threatening to come up, this time from nerves and stress of waiting for you to be told what you already knew. It took everything in you not to throw up.

The sound of your phone then sounded off from the bathroom, the chosen sound blaring indicating that the countdown was now at zero.  

You didn’t actually need to see the results though, you didn’t need to look at the two sticks on the counter waiting for you. Waiting to confirm a cruel fate. You had been through it nine years previous, knowing your body well enough to feel this change, but instead of listening, you chose to be in fucking denial. That your body was just playing tricks on you, and you weren’t. You prayed that you weren’t.

Even though you knew you were.

If only you could go back. Go back all those weeks and do it differently. Not be idiots and wear a fucking condom. Or fucking remembered that you missed a few days of pills the week before. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

The sound of your alarm continued to sound off as you stared into the bathroom from where you were rooted, staring at the counter that was awaiting your fate. You never been so scared to step through that threshold, just to see a word and a set of lines mocking you.

“Just fucking rip the band aid off,” You tell yourself softly, taking a few deep breaths and tried to swallow the lump and bile that was sitting in your throat. “Maybe it’s all in your head, and you’re just fucking insane. It’s all from stress is all. Or just confirm that we are both fucking stupid idiots.”

You wish that since you were already suspecting it, that it wouldn’t feel like a punch to the chest, but it was. That word and two very clear lines mocked you worse then you thought they would, like some sick twisted joke.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, and this time you couldn’t hold back the sick that was coming now, finding yourself hunched over the toilet. Emptying the little contents you had in your stomach.

This couldn’t be happening again. You couldn’t possibly be that stupid to do this to yourself again. You should have been more careful, you should have remembered that you had forgotten to take them a few days the week before and taken the precautions. Both of you should have thought to use protection.

But you didn’t and now here you were.

Pregnant again. This time with someone you weren’t even in a relationship with and was your fucking neighbor.

Jeonghan is galaxies better than Ren’s father ever was and will be. He treated you and your son well even though he didn’t have to, but that didn’t make him yours. He couldn’t ever be yours, like you couldn’t be his. You drew that line when this all started, you were clear that this was nothing more than a good time. You both agreed. It protected everyone that way. Or at least it did.

You both got too comfortable with each other, threw out rules that was set when this all started. God sloppy and too trusting of each other. To trusting of yourselves.

You didn’t how the fuck you were going to tell him, or how he was going to react to this. He had put his trust in you, and you fucked it. You and your stupid ass desire to have him cum in you. That little claim that wasn’t for the world to see will be making itself known.

There wasn’t much in your stomach to begin with, having not been able to stomach anything other than a donut that morning in the office, so you ended up mostly dry heaving and once you managed to stop you found yourself falling back against the bathroom wall. Breaking down and you sunk to the ground. Not knowing what to do, not knowing how to take this information. You didn’t know how you were going to tell your parents, family, or even Ren.

You didn’t want your son to know what was going on with you and Jeonghan. You didn’t want him to think it was going to be anything that it was. You didn’t want to give him hope. He adored the dark haired man so much, and you didn’t want to set him up for disappointment. Now you were going to have to tell him he was going to have a sibling. And that Jeonghan was the father.

Jeonghan… fuck. The very thought of him caused you to spiral more, unable to even know how you were going to begin to tell him. How was he going to take this? Did he even want to be a father? Neither of you ever touched on that topic, it felt like it was building possible expectations that you couldn’t deliver. You told yourself that this didn’t matter to what you were doing, you weren’t going to spend forever together.

But it did.

Everything was changing, and you were hating it. This temporary change with your hours was already terrible and you couldn’t wait for it to go back to normal. Where you got to spend your nights without Ren with Jeonghan, feeling like you were more than just a mother, and truly seen. You were someone when you were around him. You were you. And now you were going to lose that.

You didn’t want to think about that, you didn’t want to think about the pain in your chest at the idea of losing him or doing all this over again. Broken and alone.

The very thought made you want to vomit all over again.

--

**Seven months ago**

“I’ll be by Sunday after work to get Ren.” You tell your mother, walking her and Ren out of your apartment, handing off his bags to her. Jeonghan had just reached the landing, appearing to be getting home from work, as you were giving your goodbyes.

“Hello, Mr. Jeonghan!” Ren called out with excitement at the sight of the dark haired man, a large smile on his young face. Jeonghan returned the greeting with a smile of his own, and a ruffle of the boy’s hair as they pass. You stood there at your door watching them disappear down the steps. Ren telling your mother all about your neighbor and his cool apartment.

“Kid-free weekend?” Jeonghan asked leaning against his door frame, his arms crossed as he watches you mimic his stance to face him. Taking in the way his dark brown hair fell over his eyes, then over his beautiful face, noticing a little mole on his cheek. He was in loose fitting pants and a black shirt, oversized on his lithe frame, and his messenger bag lazily hanging off his shoulder. There wasn’t anything special about how he looked, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Yeah, sorta. I have to work early Sunday,” You answer him, and he nods, “It does give me a break though. Plus, my parents love having him over, and would take him every weekend if I let them.”

“Got any plans? Hot date?” He teases, and all you could do was roll your eyes.

“Oh totally. I have them beating the door down. Nah, just a couple of beers, enough food from my mom to feed an army, and maybe a really bad movie or two. Just relax.” You tap your chin, as if you were pondering how many movies to watch; conveniently leaving out the plans you had with your vibrator since you had the apartment to yourself. “What about you?”

“Same. Except the food is going to be takeout, and the movie or two will be just Youtube.” He shrugs, a lazy smile playing over his lips, and you pushed your tongue into your cheek. “Had the chance to go out with some friends, but something was telling me that staying home sounded like a better idea.”

You watch him, catching the way his eyes dropped down to your green tank, and how it was showing more cleavage then you had intended. He didn’t hide the way he licked his lips at the sight of them, before reconnecting eye contact. There was a flirt to his words, it had been the last few times you had ran into each other on the landing. It was subtle at first, but now it was becoming more obvious. An invitation, as well as a request from you, and it made you consider a few things.

A very stupid idea.

“Oh, well, I was just going to see if you wanted to join me. I got plenty of beer, and enough food to feed an army. Maybe save you a some won, and have a home cooked meal. It’ll also be less food to throw out.” You suggest slowly, the offer lacing through your words, and were ringing loud and clear. “But I totally get wanting to stay home and becoming a vegetable.”

“What kind are you?”

“A potato,” You laugh with your answer.

“Nah, my friend Mingyu is. I wouldn’t say you were a vegetable, maybe something sweeter. A fruit maybe. Like a strawberry, or banana.” Jeonghan retorted, that tongue was now pressing against the corner of his mouth but did nothing to ruin or hide the lazy but flirty smile he was still wearing. “I said staying home from going out sounded better, but I didn’t have a specific home in mind, nor did I specify one. I’d love to hang out but let me get washed up and change. I’ll even bring dessert.”

“That actually works out for me. Ren left a disaster zone in there with his toys and books. And conveniently forgot to clean up like he was supposed to.” You confess, trying to not show you were a little embarrassed by it. Mess comes with kids, but it still felt embarrassing to admit. “I got to get that cleaned up, so maybe we can meet in an hour?”

“Sounds good. Meet you in an hour then.”

An hour later, Jeonghan was knocking at your door, with his own pack of beers and some ice cream that looked like he dug out of the back of his freezer. Ready to start the night. You two had spoken often on the landing, whenever you would run into each other, when Ren would find his way over to his apartment to hang out, or when he watched the boy a couple of times after that night you met. Friendly, with hidden tones of flirting, but you were not quite friends yet nor had you hung out past those chats.

It didn’t feel like it though, both quickly comfortable with each other, and settled into the evening like it was something that you had done all the time. He was easy for you to talk to, he listened while being full of stories over the years with his friends, and the flirting got heavier. Moving from subtle comments, to finding reasons to ‘brush’ up against each other.

The offer was there, it was written all over both of you with the way you looked at each other, so it wasn’t a surprise that by the time the first movie ended, he was face first between your thighs. Nor was it a surprise that he didn’t leave your apartment, mainly your bed, until well into the afternoon the next day. It quickly became a regular thing with the two of you. Spending a lot of your free nights together, with the agreement that Ren couldn’t find out and there was no possibility of something more.

The line was clear from the start. And it worked for you both, until you both started getting closer than just sex.

Some rules you agreed on were broken, you found yourself looking forward to being just in his arms, to just seeing him. It led you down a dangerous road. One where you were falling in love with him, which only opened you up to being hurt.

--

“Are you just getting home?” You stop at the top of the stairs when you caught sight of Jeonghan walking up them. Clothes wrinkled, and you didn’t recognize the shirt that he was wearing; it was actually Joshua’s because he spilt beer all over himself. Hair was shoved under a beanie, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

He looked like he had a wild night out and was doing some kind of walk of shame. The idea didn’t sit right in your gut, briefly considering this notion that he had spent the night in someone else’s bed since he couldn’t spend it in yours. It made you sick to your stomach, but you had to push that down. Even if he did, it shouldn’t matter to you because you weren’t together. It wasn’t your business, nor was it your right to feel anyway about it.

“Went back to Shua’s after dinner. Got pretty drunk and passed out on his living room floor. He passed out in the tub. It was brilliant,” Jeonghan chuckled as he reaches the top step, before rotating his shoulder slightly. Over exaggerating his wince from the sore muscles. “Not the most comfortable though. I’m so sore.”

“Well, you’re not in your early twenties anymore. Hit the age twenty-nine and you might as well be in your thirties.” You answer with a chuckle, and you didn’t miss how his hand almost reached for you. Whenever you tease him in the comforts of your apartment, Jeonghan would like to grab your wrist to pull you into his chest so he could tickle your sides until you begged him to stop; only stopping with a payment of a kiss.

But this isn’t the inside of your apartments, this is the landing in front of them. Even if you were the only two apartments on this floor, it wasn’t like a neighbor would see either of you, but it crossed one of the many lines you drew. One of the few lines you held firm too. Going out to dinner or somewhere to hang out was one thing, something friends do, but touching, holding hands, or even kissing was only for the apartments.

You knew he hated it, and you did too, but you already let too many lines get blurred. Putting you in this exact position you are in now.

“True, I think I might need a massage though,” He teases back, the flirty suggestion heavy in his tone until he saw you were dressed in a pair of jeans, a black shirt, boots, and your large winter jacket; instead of your usual little tank dress you wore when home. You had your bag hanging from your shoulder, and an earbud in, the other in your hand. “Where you going?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I… I have some errands I got to run, and then I’m gonna help my mom out with the restaurant for a few hours. Dad’s hips acting up where he can hardly move and the most he can do is run the till.” You scramble to give him an answer, unable to tell him the truth just yet, and Jeonghan caught that you wouldn’t meet his gaze. The made him take a chance to reach for your forward to catch your chin. Tilting your head up, he made you look at him. Your eyes meeting and you had to look away quickly, scared he would know just by your eyes. “Jeonghan… not here…”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked, and you nod a little too quickly. Too quickly and it looked like he was having a hard time believing you. At all. The doubt was heavy in his voice as he said your name softly, and you tried to look everywhere but him. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I actually don’t need to tell you when I come and go, or where I go, it’s not really your business and should be happy I fucking tell you anything.” You grimace as you instantly regretted snapping at him like that, more so when you saw the taken aback look on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m not in the best of moods. I didn’t sleep very well last night, and I wasn’t exactly planning to spend my day the way I am.”

“If you aren’t feeling good still, then you need to stay home. Not push yourself. It only prolongs getting better.” He tells you, his tone as tense as his jaw was at that moment. It was his turn to not look at you and you had to swallow back what felt like a fresh wave of tears. You thought you ran out of those hours ago.

“I’m okay, I promise. I actually have been feeling better, I have just been under a lot of stress with work and didn’t sleep well. I’m about to grab an energy drink at the store.” You cast a glance toward him, knowing that you were going to have to tell him as soon as possible. Even if you aren’t going to be in the right frame of mind, maybe spending an evening with him again will help. Maybe it will be easy to tell him. “Maybe if you are up to it, we can hang out when I get home… I miss hanging out with you.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a long moment, looking at a spot on the wall before turning toward you. Regarding you with a steady gaze, and you weren’t sure if he was considering your offer or if he was just trying to decide if he wanted to tell you to go fuck yourself. Which you deserved from your comment. Then he finally spoke, “I miss hanging out with you too.”

Hearing that almost broke you, your chest aching and bursting at the same time. He has told you this before in text, when you both were wishing each other a good night, but it was always different to hear him actually say the words. You needed to hear them, but with what you were going to be telling him when you did hang out, you wondered how much longer he would feel that way.

“Just text me when you get home,” He nodded as he spoke, his words and jaw were still tense, but at least he wasn’t refusing to see you. Reaching out, you squeezed his arm gently even though all you wanted to do was throw yourself into his arms. You let your touch linger for moments longer then you should’ve, eyes glossy. Jeonghan noticed this too, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” You answer, finally pulling your hand back, starting down the stairs. “I’ll text you when I’m home!”

You didn’t look back to see if he was still standing there, even though you wanted to.

--

You hurried through the crowded streets to your destination, trying to not run into anyone and spill the two hot drinks in your hands. You were late, running into Jeonghan had thrown you back several minutes and then the coffee shop you stopped at was packed, and it didn’t help your already guilty feeling mood. Your cousin was doing you a huge favor by opening the clinic for you and your predicament, after getting a panicked text from you once you were able to pull yourself up the floor. The least you could do was be on time.

“You’re late,” Wenhyun muttered when he unlocked the front of the clinic to let you in, his voice sounding more tired than annoyed. His short hair sticking in all directions, wearing a pair of track pants and a hoodie, and didn’t look like he owned the small clinic.

“I’m sorry, I got caught in line at the coffee shop. I texted you my ETA,” You retorted, handing him the hot coffee you had gotten him. The only payment he would accept from you, or any member of your family in fact. Originally you had texted him asking him if he had an opening that Monday, when the clinic was open, but he didn’t want to wait. “Thanks for seeing me. Are you sure you’re okay with seeing me today?”

“Shut up,” He mumbled motioning you to follow him to one of the examination rooms, drinking his coffee as he went, “My mom has been helping out through the week, and I am pretty sure you don’t want your parents to find out through her. It’s better this way, and she won’t see that your charts been pulled. Plus, if you break down and shit again, I can comfort you then have to rush you out or hide you in my office until after I see the next patient.”

Wenhyun was over ten years older than you, son to your mom’s older sister, but he was more of a big brother to you. He had been the one who had confirmed your pregnancy with Ren and saw what was happening with his dad before anyone else. He had also been the reason for where you were now, getting you and your son out of the situation you were in. Your apartment, your job, and even Ren’s tuition was because of him. You were the youngest of five cousins, with him being the oldest and by default like a leader of you all, and you were always his favorite of them all. Even his own siblings.

You barely sat your bag and hot tea down when he was shoving a cup in your hands.

“I don’t think I have to tell you what to do,” He points in the direction of the bathroom, cutting you off before you could even form the words, “From what you told me in that rushed ass text, date of conception, last missed period, the pregnancy tests we already know it’s very likely going to be positive. I still got to do my own test though. It also gives me time to finish get everything together. We’ll be doing an ultrasound too, but that’s gonna cost you.”

“How much is it going to cost?”

“I’d say you’re first born child, but Ren is a little too attached to you at this point, so I’ll just settle for another coffee. Now go,” Wenhyun waves you off, and you do as he requested. Returning a few minutes later with the cup partially filled and closed. “Go sit.”

You take a seat on the examination table, wringing your fingers together nervously.

“Who’s the guy?” Your cousin suddenly asked, his back to you but you knew what he was doing. Doing his own pregnancy test. “It’s not…”

“Oh, god no. I haven’t seen him since he tried to crash Ren’s sixth birthday. Last I heard he was bumming it somewhere in Busan with some woman, but that was almost a year ago. It’s…” You trailed off and he turns to look at you. There was a look of realization on it, because you never said out loud what the two of you were doing. Your mother had suspected, but you never said anything.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but can you at least tell me that you’re okay. And safe?” He didn’t push you, but there was worry written all over his features.

“I am more than safe, I’m the safest I probably have ever been when I am with him. I just… never actually told anyone about us,” You confess.

“Is he a secret boyfriend? Or a friend?” He took the chance to turn back around to check the results.

“I guess you can say he’s a friend, and also… my neighbor,” You said the last words slowly, and this time he whipped around with a look of shock.

“Excuse me,” You winced when your full name fell from his lips, in a shocked but scolding manner, “Are you actually telling me that you’re fucking sleeping with your neighbor?”

“Yeah?” Finally looking away from his disappointed gaze, “His name is Jeonghan. He helps me out with Ren sometimes, letting him hang out at his place on the days I’m running late from work, or if I have to work late and Mom can’t help keep an eye on him. He’s literally Ren’s favorite person in the world… and… he’s also mine. We been seeing and sleeping together for seven months now, mostly when Ren is at my parents. We’re normally pretty careful, but sometimes we…” You didn’t continue that sentence, sparing your cousin the details. He was still family after all, “Let’s just say we became Icarus after a few beers and flew too close to the sun.”

“I prescribe you birth control, don’t you take it consistently?”

“I normally do that too, but…”

“What? Forget because of life? Work? Stress?”

“Yeah…”

“While I do understand this, life can get hectic, it still isn’t a good enough excuse. As your doctor, I have to stress the importance of using protections. More than one form if needed, because I am about to confirm you are in fact pregnant!” He tells you, exasperation heavy with every word, and you could feel yourself deflating like a child in trouble, “From the information you provided me, I would put you at around twelve weeks. I’m gonna have to have you come in sometime this week to get blood tests. Fucking hell, why didn’t you come to me sooner?! When you started experiencing symptoms. Or even, I don’t know, when you missed your period?! Even if it was just to rule it out!”

“Because when the symptoms started, work started getting more hectic with Gunyu going on this month long cruise. I thought it was from stress,” You realize that all you were doing now was grasping at excuses at this point, and Wenhyun knew it too. You knew better, you should have ruled this out before anything else, but instead you chose to ignore the obvious. Trying to hide behind work, “Or I am just stupid.”

“You are stupid, but as your cousin, I need to think that” He retorts, and you give him a dirty look. “Does he know?”

“No,” You tell him, finally feeling your face wet from tears that were now falling involuntarily, “I only found out last night, and I saw him briefly in front of the apartments. Didn’t think ‘oh hey, how are you? I am heading to the clinic to confirm I am carrying your child, okay call you later!’ was a smart idea. I wanted to see you first about this before I tell him. I’m telling him tonight.”

“Are you in love with him?” This question took you off guard.

“We’re not together.”

“You don’t have to be with someone to be in love with them, don’t deflect. I asked, are you in love with him?”

Hope you enjoyed! Part 2 is almost done being written and Hoshi's installment will be out soon! If you like my series, and want to be updated when I post, I am created a tag list.

More one shots and drabbles coming.