#you better BELIEVE it could not let go of that one.

[prlssprfctn]

Tim: Okay, we will just keep it in a secret for a while...

Dick: Oh, how hard it can be, anyway?

Damian: Right. No one wants to remember this.

Jason, spawning behind their backs: You suck at being secretive. What's up?

Dick, giggling nervously: A-ah, Little Wing, uh—

Jason: Well? Whatever it is, I am going to find it out one way or another.

Tim: Promise not to freak out? It is about Bruce.

Jason, crossing fingers behind his back: Promise.

Damian: Father had found himself a new love interest. And it is unbecoming.

Jason, confused: Uh, alright? Why would I care—

Tim, blurting out: It is Joe Chill's daughter.

Jason: Who tf—

Jason: ...Joe Chill, like Martha and Thomas Wayne's killer Joe Chill?

Dick: ...Yeah. That one guy.

Jason: ...

Jason: Yeah, honestly, the fuck I expected when I asked him to kill Joker... He can't even avenge his own ass. Not just that. HE DATES HIS DAUGHTER?

Damian: ...My mother is literally right here.

Dick: Or auntie Selina.

Tim: And Clark. Or even Oliver. Or even Hal—

Jason: I am so *not* joining family dinners anymore.

Dick: Yeah... Anyway, B asked to keep it away from Alfred for a while.

Alfred, ominously appearing in the dark corner of the room: It is a little bit late, gentlemen.

Boys: (nervous gulping)

Alfred, surprisingly calm: Of course, we shall not blame children for sins of their parents. I believe this woman could be better than her father ever was.

Alfred: I am happy for master Bruce. Of course.

Alfred: By the way, do you, boys, prefer poison or bullet?

Dick, nervous: Hey, I am pretty sure the poor girl—

Alfred: Who said anything about the lady?

Tim, whistling: Well, Cass would be delighted to inherit a cowl so soon...

Jason: Okay, you all, let's all just do whatever we think Thomas and Martha would like us to do in this situation...

Dick: Yeah, they probably would be happy for—

Alfred: Thomas would choose a gun.

Boys: (nervous giggle)

Dick, whispering: I'll message B to leave the town.

Tim: Ask him to hide at Kent's. Maybe he can still be saved.

Jason: I'll message Mama Cat. Someone needs to fuck his brain back.

Damian: ...I rather not bother mother. Either way, she will kill Father faster than Alfred will.

[mellowyellow236]

How would the TWST boys act when they’re jealous?

This is Diasomnia's section- Link to Heartslabyul. All characters are meant to be interpreted as romantic. The reader is gender-neutral. There may be mild spoilers as to who overblots and other facts. Some of them might have Yandere tendencies, though nothing graphic or descriptive and always very mild, they’ll be marked with a ‘Y’ if they do. Mainly because sometimes the boys are calm and talk through their feelings… And sometimes they go down possessive insecurity-included spirals. If anyone has anything to add or any questions, please leave a reblog or comment! Requests are open if anyone wants. 

Malleus Draconia - 

Malleus gets jealous very, very easily. He loves you, obviously, but he’s a dragon. You’re a part of his horde. And just like his gold and jewels and artifacts, he’s not willing to let you be stolen away from him, in any way. 

He desires you. You’re his crown jewel, a shining star, the only light in the darkness. His entire life, his one true friend and lover. And he knows- He hates it so much- But he knows that you’ll leave him one day. He will outlive you. You will leave him. So do whatever it is you need to punish him for acting out, but he’ll be the one in a casket before he gives up your meager time to anyone else. 

He’s in love, and you couldn’t possibly deny him, could you? Please don’t. He knows that you have your friends, that he can’t be your only. But don’t deny him the right to love you in whatever way will make them leave- If they are intimidated by your love, let it happen. Let it happen. Let them leave you, Malleus never will.

Lilia Vanrouge - 

Hey, Beastie… Who are ya with there? A friend? Oh, how cute! You think that he’s going to get jealous, don’t you? Well, guess what? Lilia isn’t in the slightest! Why, you’re so silly, Beastie! 

What? That wasn’t an attempt at making Lilia jealous? You’re telling him that man right there honestly likes you. You? Why, no, you’re not the undesirable one. You’re beautiful in every way. But that’s Lilia’s job- To make you feel special, to make you feel good, to make you feel loved- And that man thinks he can replace him in it. He thinks he could do better than Lilia could. 

How dare he. Lilia will whisk you off your feet and away at the drop of a hat. He’s an old Fae who never believed he could feel something as simple as jealousy for a human but now look at him. Look at him craving you, look at him loving you, look at him holding you close, so close, until you leave him the same way his other lovers did. But please. Look at him. 

Silver “Vanrouge” - (I am sorry Silver fans, the boy did not want to be written in Headcanon form)

Silver was stretching in the back of the gym as he spied you walking in. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, of course, you would often come in and say hello to him. He expected you to do the same that day, so he paid no mind as you talked to another student first. You shared your last class of the day with him, no? So it wasn’t weird. 

But then another student comes up and joins your conversation. You’re popular- You deserve to be popular- So Silver still isn’t shocked. You are allowed to have more friends than him and a large amount of friends and fun activities is a sign of healthy living. 

It isn’t until you’ve spent half the period and Silver still hasn’t gotten onto his broom as he waits for you to come over that he takes matters into his own hands. He easily walks up to you, putting a hand on your shoulder, and as you push into him he easily melts back into you, all of his jealousy pouring away as your attention has returned to its rightful place. 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

Sebek doesn’t recognize that he’s jealous, no matter how obvious it is. He’s only caring for you because he has to. You are merely a silly little human, much weaker than a half-fae like him. And then you go off with a different human! You two together could never compare to him, so why is it that you’re not by his side? 

Human! How dare you go off without Sebek there, you could be hurt! While he might not care for you at all, you are liked by the great Wakasama, and thus you must be protected for the sake of his lord’s honor. If Sebek’s weakness made Malleus cry, what could ever become of him? How can you not see that? 

Oh, you were with Malleus…? But… Sebek still needs to protect his lord, even if you are not there! He can defend himself from any magical threats, but he… might… be hurt by you and your weak human feelings! How would you be able to hurt Wakasama…? Shut up, human! Your mind simply cannot comprehend the horrors that he must plan for as his lord’s future guard!

[solxamber]

Hi there! For the valentines event can I request Ace with romantic implications with the song "30 Second Love Story" by PEGGY with inspired by these specific lyrics? "There are millions of people, and millions of lifetimes And maybe in one of them, I found my voice And I told you I liked you, and then came for coffee In five years we're married, a house and a family" I know you said you are getting a lot of Ace requests but the brain rot is real if you're getting Ace-fatigue you can go with Sebek instead!

"I spent my whole life in a moment with you" || Ace Trappola

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 30 Second Love Story by PEGGY

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 890

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pining, Confessions

Ace is in love with you.

Painfully, irreversibly, hopelessly in love with you.

It hits him in flashes, in moments so ordinary they shouldn't feel life-changing—but they do. Like when you pass him a drink without him asking, already knowing what he likes. Like when you shoot him a grin after winning a game against him, smug and shining. Like when you nudge him with your shoulder while walking side by side, laughing, your warmth so close yet so far.

It happens when you hold his hand casually, fingers laced without a second thought, as if you don’t notice the way his heart hammers against his ribs. It happens when you lean into him during a movie, your weight comfortable and trusting, completely unaware that his pulse is racing.

He thinks about a future where this is normal—not just fleeting touches and teasing words, but something real. Something that lasts.

Mornings where he wakes up to you tangled in his sheets, sunlight catching in your hair. Breakfasts where he sneaks up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you make coffee, pressing his face into the crook of your neck just to hear you laugh.

Lazy afternoons spent wrapped in each other on the couch, sharing popcorn and complaints about a bad movie. Evenings where he watches you from across the dinner table and still thinks, Damn, I love you.

A life with you. A future where he’s yours, and you’re his.

He dreams about it more than he should, and every time, he tells himself to stop.

He can’t ruin this. You’re his best friend. If he messes up—if he confesses and you don’t feel the same—then what? He’d lose everything.

So he stays quiet, keeps it locked inside his chest, lets himself drown in his own longing.

Until the day he doesn’t.

It’s a golden afternoon, the kind where the sun paints everything in its soft warmth, and you’re sitting next to him, talking animatedly about something—Ace isn’t even sure what, because all he can focus on is you.

The way your eyes light up when you get excited. The way your hand moves, expressive and unguarded. The way your fingers are wrapped around his, absently squeezing like it’s second nature.

And that’s when it happens.

His heart stutters, skips a beat, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

Why is he waiting? Why is he so scared?

You are his best friend. The one who laughs at his stupid jokes. The one who sticks by him even when he’s being a pain in the ass. The one who makes life better just by existing in it.

How could he not love you?

And how could he keep pretending that he doesn’t?

Before he can think, before doubt can creep in, he moves.

His free hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek gently. You blink at him, startled, lips parting—ready to ask something, maybe—but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft at first, tentative, his breath catching as he waits for you to pull away. But you don’t. You freeze for only a second before melting into him, fingers tightening around his.

The moment you respond—when your lips move against his, when you kiss him back with just as much warmth—it feels like something inside him clicks into place.

He’s never believed in fate, but this—this feels damn close to it.

When he pulls back, his heart is pounding, his stomach twisting in nervous anticipation. But the way you look at him, stunned and breathless and smiling—it’s everything he needs.

You don’t say anything. You just squeeze his hand, as if to say, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

And that’s all he needs to know.

Ace wakes up to the weight of you in his arms.

Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the sheets, and he takes a moment to just—breathe. It's been five years, and he still can't believe this is real.

Your head is tucked beneath his chin, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Your warmth is familiar now, expected, like it’s always meant to be there.

He shifts slightly, his fingers tracing absent patterns along your back, and you stir with a sleepy hum.

“Mm… Ace?” Your voice is drowsy, muffled against his chest.

“Morning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You tilt your face up to look at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, and he thinks, I’ll never get tired of this.

Never get tired of the way your nose scrunches slightly when you wake up. Never get tired of how soft you are against him, how safe you make him feel. Never get tired of the matching rings on your fingers, the quiet proof of the promise you made to each other.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble, nuzzling into him.

Ace huffs a laugh. “You say that every morning."

“And yet, I still get five more minutes every time.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair.

This is it.

The life he dreamed of—the one he was once too scared to reach for—is now his reality.

And as he kisses you awake, slow and sweet, he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[hitomisuzuya]

Hiii! hope you're doing well❣️

In some recent fic you mentioned scara having a bit of separation anxiety and now i cant unsee it...

Id like to request a very fluffy and a little angsty fic (some nsfw is ok too ^^) where he's been away from us, and since he feels down we make a surprise visit 🥹

I hope it wasnt too confusing...

scaramouche x fem!reader. fluff. some angst. some smut.

this request🥰 i hope the level of smut is okay.

scaramouche hates being away from you like he hates sweets. he loathes it. he despises it. you are what makes the world look a little less gray to him. it makes him very anxious being away from you.

a selfish part of him feels a little resentful for a moment at how nice you are. you'd gone away to help a friend as moral support for a few days. he understood that. he likes how disgustingly caring you are, but why did you have to always go and be so nice all the time?

if you had just said no, and not been so nice then you could be here with him instead. and he wouldn't be in his incredibly foul mood.

sighing, he picks up his phone and looks at the time restlessly. it was already so late, and you no doubt would be asleep. he decided to try and mess around on his phone in an attempt to take his mind off his anxiety.

these attempts usually are to no avail. anything he did, he couldn't stop thinking about you. how much he misses you and wishes you are here with him. he couldn't even play video games because it just wasn't the same without you. you wouldn't be there next to him praising him and calling him amazing when he did well. or encouraging him when he got pissy about something in the game.

he settled on reading your text messages. it was a little comfort to him because those typed words had come from you, your fingers had done the typing and your thoughts had put the words together. however, reading them just made him miss you more.

scoffing, scaramouuche rests his head back against the wall, tossing his phone on his bed next to him. he cringes for a moment thinking it was going to bounce off the bed and on to the floor.

the absolute last thing he needs is to break his phone. then he wouldn't be able to talk to you at all.

relived to see that it hadn't clattered to the floor, he let the quiet of his room settle around him. maybe he turned on the tv and left it at a low volume he would be able to fall asleep eventually? he supposes the sooner he falls asleep, the sooner he can wake up to a good morning text message from you.

he freezes as his phone vibrates. hastily, he grabs it and almost couldn't believe what he read. it is a text from you that says: 'can you come let me in? it's kind of really cold out here🥺'

"shit!" he hissed, and practically fell getting out of bed. he scrambled downstairs and to the front door. were you really here?! life had better pray it wasn't fucking with him. that this wasn't some dream he was having. did he fall asleep without realizing it?

he unlocked and opened the door. there you were, standing there while snowflakes swirled around you. there was only one way he could be sure that this was real.

he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him. wrapping his arms around you, he kicks the front door closed and is immediately greeted with the relief that he could feel the warmth of your body on his as your body settles against him.

his arms tighten around you. you are actually here.

"i missed you," you greet, putting your arms around him. "i pulled some strings and came back early," you nuzzle your cheek on his chest. you didn't like being away from him, either.

"i knew you couldn't stay away from me," he teases, smirking as he watches the cute, flustered blush color your cheeks. as vulnerable as he feels, he is also more than a little scared you would see him as weak.

"i couldn't," you reply, smiling softly up at him. you always miss him just as much as he misses you. chuckling, put his finger under your chin and tilts your head up.

the moment that your lips met his, he knows he doesn't have to be scared of you seeing him this vulnerable. you understood him. you are patient with him. you are entirely accepting of his many quirks. you miss him. nobody ever misses him.

but he could feel it in your kiss. in the way you sweetly open your mouth for his tongue. in the way you shiver in his arms as he runs the tip of his tongue on the sensitive roof of your mouth. in the way you moan softly as he deepens the kiss, his hands wandering on your body.

scaramouche fully intended to pin you against the wall of the hallway and start taking off your clothes while he kissed you, but your hand dips down between his legs to cup his erection outside his jeans. he groans as you palm and rub his cock, feeling his back rest against the wall.

it didn't help that some of your text messages to him had been very dirty. scaramouche knew he could just jack off, but that wouldn't cut it. it would only make his cock ache more, and he would miss you even more. he needed you. so so badly.

it's been really, really rough for him.

"let me take care of you now, scara," you said, your lips hovering over his as you unbutton his jeans. he shudders as you free his cock from his confines, and wrap your hand around it. you pump your hand up and down on his pulsing cock, rnassaging your thumb on his leaking cockhead.

a loud moan sounds from scaramouche as he rests his head against the wall, rutting into your hand. it felt so fucking good on his cock that it was overwhelming for him. you brush your knuckles over the vein that bulges to the surface.

"oh fuck, i missed you. i missed you so fucking much," his moan is tinged with a soft whimper, his cock throbbing in your hand. putting a hand on the back of your head, he kisses you. tangling his fingers in your hair, his teeth bit at your lips, his tongue curling and gliding against yours.

his lips linger on yours for as long as they could before scaramouche suddenly tore his mouth from yours. he couldn't stop the string of loud moans that tore from his throat as you increase the pace of your hand.

"oh fuck," he hisses, rutting more urgently into your hand. you gently twist your hand, squeezing his cock in anyway that made him see stars. he shakes as cum spurts into your hand.

"i'm really glad you are back," he moans shakily, losing himself in the pure bliss of your hand stroking his cock through his orgasm.

"like i said, darling," you press a soft kiss on his lips, "i just couldn't stay away."

[writingwithfolklore]

I Cut Out Social Media for 30 Days and It Changed My Life

Okay hefty title, but I mean every word of it.

Over January I followed a book called Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport. I'm sure you've already been lectured to death about how bad technology and social media is for you, so I won't repeat the statistics here. What I will say is that Newport suggests that there are also positives to technology and that abandoning it altogether is not realistic. Instead, he proposes that we define our values, and then use technology to attain them--rather than allowing technology to define what values we should hold.

To do this, Newport suggests a complete "detox" of non-essential technologies for 30 days. That means abstaining from social media, netflix and other streaming services, videogames, etc. But of course still being able to phone loved ones, email for work, and use google maps if you're going somewhere new, etc. In doing this detox, he proposes that we will be able to better understand what values we hold as people, not just as consumers of technology.

He was right.

At first I found it really hard. Right away I noticed that any activity other than doomscrolling and watching endless hours of Youtube took a lot more brain power. I started doing puzzles, reading, writing (a lot!), cooking and baking, and taking many walks with my dog. By the end of the day I'd be fuzzy and exhausted, and all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch my favourite shows. I didn't, but I wanted to.

But then I started to notice my "brain stamina" (I'm sure there's a better term for it but oh well) started to improve. Instead of writing for two hours before getting fuzzy, I could write for four. And then six. And then eight. Slowly, I found myself being able to do more in a day, to focus for longer on one task, and I didn't feel as drained by the end of it. I had a clearer mind, I could remember things a lot better, I was no longer struggling to find really easy words--they just came to me.

This all also resulted in me spending so much more time with my friends and family. I realized that I really valued this time--and that it wasn't something I could replace by hitting 'like' on an instagram post from them. I rediscovered community, passion, and in many ways, humanity.

It was like I was looking at the world in a new way. I started to notice more, be curious about more. I kind of remember being this way as a kid, and I couldn't believe how I had ever let that go. Now, the idea of sitting on my couch and watching hours and hours of Youtube in every moment of my free time feels inconceivable.

However, my 30 days are up, and so Newport suggests setting some rules to reintroduce what technology I believe supports my values. I've decided not to return to Instagram, but that I do value keeping up to date with the gaming community and pop culture, which I do on Youtube. Now, Youtube is something that I watch for a couple hours on weekends, instead of eating up every bit of free time I have. I also value interacting with other writers and the writing community, so I've created a couple hours in my schedule to check Tumblr and my Discord and keep up to date with you guys here.

But now most of my free time is spent reading or writing, or being with my family and friends, and I value that most of all. To demonstrate how much has changed, in the months before my detox, I wrote maybe 2500 words. Since my detox, I've written 40 000. Last year, I read about four books. In just one month during my detox, I read 10.

If this sounds like something you'd be interested in trying for yourself, feel free to reach out to me! I'd love to talk more about my experience and things that worked or didn't work for me. I'd also really recommend the book, it was incredibly helpful in determining what rules were healthy to set and how to get out of technology and then back in with success.

Back to usual content soon :-)

[sundew199]

One day

a/n: I very much enjoy shy and slightly pathetic Zoro,

tags: roronoa zoro x f!reader, masturbation, pervy behavior from Zoro, implied panty kink maybe?

Zoro is so obsessed with you it drives him insane, he can't even look at you without thinking about what he wants to do to you. He won't admit his crush for no other reason but pride, but that doesn't stop him from getting off to the thought of you.

At first it was because he couldn't reach his release and was growing increasingly frustrated as he couldn't bring himself there. Then your face and pretty smile flashed in his mind and he was suddenly doubling over in the small bathroom and spilling in his hand.

Oh the shame was nearly enough to never think about you again, but not enough. He wanted you, but didn't know the first thing about women, besides the occasional drunken hook-up when they'd stop for a couple of days at an island, but again those didn't mean shit to him. If Zoro was going to have you, he didn't want it to be a one time thing and that's where he found majority of his problems.

So he settled for yearning from a distance until he miraculously found the courage to approach you, and maybe one day he might but that day wasn't today. And it could've been since you and him were alone in the crow's nest training, coming to him for some combat advice, and Zoro swears you were dropping subtle hints but refused to believe it. After the hour and a half long training, he found himself retiring to the men's quarter's, sighing with relief that no one was in there because he had something to take care of.

He climbed into his bunk and palmed over the tent in his pants that he willed away up until now, finally in solitude to relish in his dirty fantasies. A month or so ago, some of yours and his laundry got mixed up and he managed to sneak away with one of your thongs. He was probably no better than the cook, but fuck Zoro couldn't help himself, not with how intense his orgasms were as of late.

Slipping the lacy almost see-through thong tucked under his pillow, Zoro shimmed out of his pants, cock springing free and leaking an obscene amount of pre, making him groan as he wrapped his fist around the angry tip. He sighed softly, lying back all the way on his bunk as the fabric of your thong made contact with his skin. It was the most erotic and pervy thing he found himself doing since 'stealing' your underwear. And all his problems could be solved if he just told you how he felt but no, he settled for using your panties to get off because deep down he was scared of rejection.

Gliding his fist down to the base of his cock, Zoro bit down hard on his bottom lip, the ache was nearly unbearable and even his own simple touch had him shuttering. Bringing his fist back up and twisting his wrist around the head to gather the clear liquid to lubricate his strokes.

All he could think about was the thin sheen of sweat on your arms and legs as he taught you different maneuvers, the small laughs you let you when you dodged his attacks and the pure satisfaction on your face when you managed to knock him off of his feet one singular time. But those thoughts quickly turned into picturing you down on your knees in front of him as he glided his dick over your lips and cheeks, the doe-eyed look you'd give him and the eagerness to swallow his cock as you flattened your tongue along the underside.

Zoro's hips suddenly rutted into the air, his back arching as he rapidly stroked his cock, occasionally taking your thong with his fist and running it up his shaft. He was doing his best to not groan aloud, knowing if anyone on the crew heard him, his little session would be cut short or worse discovered.

Huffing out short breaths, bringing his hips back down to the bed, Zoro slowed his fist, coming to a complete stop to gaze at the thong hanging from the base of his cock, brushing against his heavy and swollen balls. Throwing his head back, softly moaning your name, he closed his eyes again, almost breaking the tender skin of his bottom lip as he bit back every noise imaginable as he started fisting his cock again.

He was his own worst enemy when it came to staying quiet, thinking about sliding into your pussy for the first time and the sweet moan you would let out. And god he just knew you would feel so good, no matter what position he had you in, but he thinks being on top of you would feel the best, because he would get to see the pleasure contort your face and watch the moans and whines leave your lips. How you would moan his name and beg him for more and he would gladly give it to you.

You would writhe beneath him, moaning turning into begs as he slammed into your pussy greedily and Zoro would kiss and lick up the tears rolling down your cheeks from how good his cock stretched you out.

"Fuck-"

Hearing his own voice and snapping his eyes open, looking around frantically like he wasn't the one who just spoke, on edge and unable to help it. Removing his hand and bringing it to his mouth, he spit a considerable amount and returned to the up and down motions. He watched his own hand and the way the thong moved to his own movements, eventually grabbing it and moving it up and down shaft.

Now he was shaking with pleasure, jaw falling slack and his own hips rutting into his own hand as the lace moved across his cock. He was so close and all Zoro could think about was how you would sound when you'd cum on his cock, the way your eyes might roll back and your hands digging into his biceps.

"Please, oh fuck please."

Muttering under his breath as his hand started to move impossibly fast, the lace rubbing over the tip now and soaking with pre that hadn't stopped leaking. Zoro groaned a bit loudly, tightening his fist and throwing his head back for a final time, shakily whispering your name as his own cum spilled onto his stomach.

There was so much of it, exhaling through his nostrils as the last bit of cum shot out. It dripped down the ridges of his abs, stopping below his naval and pooling.

Guilt and along with shame came over him, realizing he was still holding your thong, he quickly shoved it under his pillow and grabbed a near by shirt to clean himself off. He knew he'd never get what he wants if he didn't at least try to make the first move, but he just wasn't ready for that type of rejection, if there were to be any to begin with. Maybe one day, but defiantly not today.

[angelltheninth]

Through the Eyes of an Artist

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, orgasm encouragement, being watched, toy use, clit stimulation, giving instructions, masturbation, body cum shot

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I'm an artist too, I would do the same.

What an honor to be Rafayel's new model. You were all he could paint lately, his only inspiration. You were fine with that, you got to pose for him, wear all kinds of outfits, sometimes no outfits, you got to spend time with him, hours upon hours as he finished his painting. He would let you choose the frame of for the picture too.

Usually there was to be as little movement from you as possible. This time was very different. Having items with you was also something that happened often. On you, not in you, not riding something.

And what's more he still refused to tell you what his subject was.

"Spread your legs more. I need to see it clearly. I know it might be more difficult to ride but I promise to give you a long, rewarding massage after." Rafayel instructed you from behind the canvas, his eyes were the only visible part of him until you did as he suggested. Your legs spread wider on either side of the smooth, purple dildo, the tip catching your clit every time you rolled down. "That's it. Keep your face forward, don't hide from me."

You bit your lower lip as he looked at you intensely, taking in every part of you. Your parted lips, flushed cheeks, your nipples stiff peaks on your breasts, your hips rolling and clit puffy for him to see.

"You still haven't told me why you... want me to do this. Aren't I supposed to be still?" Although if he were to have you sitting on the dildo for hours it might have been worse.

"Not for this. I want to capture pure lust, pleasure, bliss. And you, your face when you have an orgasm, your body tense with pleasure, there's no better subject." He waxed poetically about this but as much as you wanted to believe him part of you thought this was just an excuse to watch you fuck yourself. A clever excuse, you'll give him that much.

You felt so exposed to him. It wasn't the nudity, you've had sex before, a lot when one of his paintings would win an award, but you never did things like this in front of him. It made you vulnerable.

"Hands at your sides. Or your breasts. I need to see." He instructed again and hummed as your hands grabbed your breasts, teasing your nipples with your thumbs. "Good girl. Keep going until you finish."

It wasn't only that you finished once, but four times by the time he set the pen down.

He was quiet the whole time, focused on his craft, but you knew your moans and your whimpers had an effect on him. From how he was sitting his bulge was very visible to you.

"It's still missing something." Rafayel sighed and leaned forward, cock stirring in his pants. He looked down at it, then to you, whose body was shaking from your last orgasm, a puddle beneath you, your leg and thigh muscles burning and pussy swollen from riding the toy. "Of course. The personal touch."

You heard him shifting behind the canvas, the distinct and familiar sounds of his belt and zipper. He walked over to you, his cock fisted in his hand and stopped just out of your reach. "You want my mouth?" Your pussy clenched around the toy again and you hissed, so sensitive around it.

"No. Keep doing what you're doing. You're almost done." He wasn't referring to the painting, but also to you. Rafayel's eyes roamed your naked body. "I'll paint you." Not with a paintbrush but with his cum. Rafayel moaned your name over and over, rubbing his cock and shooting thick, long ropes of cum across your chest, face and stomach too.

Unable to hold back your tongue dipped down to lick the tip, your lips kissing it once, a loud moan silenced against it as you came for the fifth time.

"Yes! Yes, like that, hold still now!" He didn't bother to put his dick back into his pants he quickly grabbed his brush and got to putting the paint to canvas, capturing you in that one perfect moment of pleasure. No one would see this painting, no one but the two of you.

[rosiecosy]

the joker

(seventeen x reader)

thank you to the anon who requested this! i hope you enjoy!

"welcome back to another episode of going seventeen!"

the staff's voice boomed through the speakers as the members sat in their seats, waiting for today's game to be announced.

"i swear if it's carnival again, i'm leaving," jeonghan muttered, slumping in his seat.

everyone not-so-quietly agreed. but before the complaints could continue, the staff revealed the game.

mafia.

with a secret role.

silence.

"what kind of secret role?" jeonghan asked, already thinking of ways to cheat.

the staff handed out the role cards—one mafia, one doctor, one detective, the civilians, and one joker.

"what does the joker do?" dino asked.

the staff grinned. "the joker wins alone. they don’t care if the mafia or civilians win—as long as they survive."

the members turned to look at each other.

"oh," woozi said. "so you want us to die."

round one

they started discussing immediately.

"i think it’s hoshi," vernon said.

"what?!"

"you’re being too loud."

"i’m always loud!"

"exactly," vernon deadpanned.

hoshi sulked. "you guys suck."

meanwhile, she stayed silent. she wasn’t mafia. she wasn’t a civilian.

she was the joker.

which meant she had one goal—survive.

and what better way to survive than to act completely, painfully average?

so she did what any normal civilian would do—she accused mingyu.

"mingyu looks suspicious."

mingyu’s jaw dropped. "i literally just breathed."

"exactly," seungcheol said, nodding. "too calm."

mingyu groaned. "i hate this game."

and just like that, he got eliminated.

round two

the next morning, the game resumed. when they opened their eyes, they saw joshua sitting quietly with his arms crossed.

"wait…" dino furrowed his brows. "are you—"

joshua sighed. "yeah, i’m dead."

seungkwan gasped. "who killed joshua?!"

woozi rolled his eyes. "obviously, the mafia."

"wow, they really went for an easy target," jeonghan muttered, sipping his tea.

joshua turned to glare at him. "excuse me?"

she sat back, watching. she didn’t care who won—as long as she wasn’t eliminated.

so she did something risky.

"guys… what if there’s no mafia?" she said suddenly.

the room fell silent.

seungkwan gasped. "what are you saying?!"

"i mean, what if it’s all a trick? what if the staff just told us there was a mafia but secretly… there isn’t one?"

chaos. immediate chaos.

dino: "huh?!"

woozi: "shut up."

seungcheol: "oh my god."

jeonghan: "wait… that’s actually genius."

and just like that, they forgot about her.

round three

it was down to four people—her, seungcheol, jeonghan, and seungkwan.

one mafia. one civilian. one detective.

and her—the joker.

she needed one more person to go before the final round.

so she turned to jeonghan and whispered,

"it’s seungcheol."

jeonghan’s eyes narrowed.

he turned to seungkwan. "it’s seungcheol."

seungcheol: "what?!"

"he’s been too quiet."

"that’s just my personality?!"

seungkwan nodded. "true. he’s always the fake leader in mafia."

seungcheol got eliminated.

she smiled.

one step closer to victory.

final round

three left.

jeonghan. seungkwan. her.

one mafia. one civilian. one joker.

seungkwan squinted. "wait… who’s lying?"

jeonghan pointed at her. "it’s her."

she gasped. "you’re really gonna betray me like this?"

"you literally started this whole thing!"

seungkwan turned to her. "are you mafia?"

she gave him the most innocent look ever. "do i look like a liar?"

"…yes."

"…fair."

jeonghan sighed. "look. let’s be logical."

"oh my god," woozi mumbled from the ghost section.

jeonghan continued. "if i was mafia, would i have gotten rid of seungcheol?"

"yes," she said.

jeonghan blinked. "wait—"

too late.

seungkwan eliminated him.

the staff clapped. "congratulations! the civilians win—"

"actually."

the staff paused.

she grinned.

"i was the joker."

seungkwan froze. "wait… does that mean…"

"she won," woozi groaned.

jeonghan looked personally offended. "you backstabbed me."

she shrugged. "that’s the game."

seungkwan fell to the floor. "i can’t believe this."

the members screamed. mingyu threw a pillow at her. jeonghan stormed off.

but all she did was sit back, smile, and say,

"well… see you next episode."

[minniesfiles]

{JEONGHAN} FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

ᯓ★ VOL. 1

(note; each volume has 15 fic recs)

[a] — angst│[f] — fluff │[s] — smut

❖ in another life — by @solarwonux

Soulmates come in different ways. | 3.6k [a]

❖ liar, liar pants on fire — by @number1mingyustan

Deep down you know the truth, yet you always seem to take his word for it. | 1.6k [a, s]

❖ how to give a blowjob — by @multiland

Your friendship with Jeonghan takes a turn the day the two of you cross the line when he decides to teach you how to give a blowjob, despite your promises of everything staying the same. Tired of waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, you decide to go on dates. Needless to say, he doesn't like it one bit. | 11k [f, s, a]

❖ to live again — by @viastro

It’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future? | 38.7k [a, f]

❖ daisies — by @viastro

The best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. | 10k [a, f]

❖ of rainy nights and roses — by @chenfleur

In the heat of the moment, jeonghan grows careless with his words. now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean. | 5.8k [a, f]

❖ don’t you remember the time? — by @wonustars

Your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. In other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy. | 26.3k [a, f, s]

❖ holidate — by @onlymingyus

13k [a, f, s]

❖ jeonghan + anonymous sex — by @hoshifighting

Where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, Mr. Yoon. | ? [s]

❖ (in)visible — by @haniette

He decided to give you time, to let you feel comfortable with him and everything else. but you don’t want and need it anymore. you want to be visible. you want the two of you to be visible to the others. that you’re his and he’s yours. | 7k [a, f]

❖ behind the mask — by @starlightxsvt

Never in your wildest dreams did you think of falling for the infamous yoon jeonghan but you do, very hard, and things are now bound to get messy. | 7.1k [a, f, s]

❖ irrefutable fate — by @berriesandjunnie

There’s only so much you can do when you fall for a soul who will outlive you. | 3.3k [a]

❖ kidult — by @hcuyk

Jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too. | twoshot [f, a]

❖ amortentia — by @http-mianhae

He was the worst of worse, how could anyone love him? Such a cold-hearted kid yet you were forced to sit next to him and as a Ravenclaw, it didn’t do you justice that all Jeonghan did was throw insults and act like a total jerk. | 25.3k [f, a]

❖ candy — by @wheeboo

After moving back into the city to be closer with friends and family, you start receiving letters from an unknown sender in your mail. When curiosity gets the better of you, you decide to respond, and what begins as a simple sweet-tasting exchange soon blossoms into something more with someone you’ve never met—or so you think. But as the snow continues to fall, you find yourself confronting the bitter-tasting feelings you thought were long buried back in your youth, as well as the person who’s been hiding in plain sight all along. | 20.8k [a, f]

[thoughtfulfiction]

While We’re Young

Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!

“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”

Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”

Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”

“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.

Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.

He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”

After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.

He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”

You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.

“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.

A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.

The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.

Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”

You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”

The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”

The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.

“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.

Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.

The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.

Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.

When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.

“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.

The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.

As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.

Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”

And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.

The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.

She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"

You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.

A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.

Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”

“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”

Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.

"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.

Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."

"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.

The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.

On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.

You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.

“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”

His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.

Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.

"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."

"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.

You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.

And that’s what this house and his family was.

His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.

"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"

This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.

And that was when he met you.

Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.

“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.

Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”

She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”

“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”

Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”

Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”

You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.

The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.

As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.

And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.

An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.

But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.

“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”

He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

This. This is what home should feel like.

Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.

But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.

I think I might love you too.

[solxamber]

For the event, could I request Leona, romantic, with "Waiting on the Sun" by Citizen Soldier? First time listening to this after discovering Twisted had me wailing in the car haha

i was crying at the club when i heard it... it suits leona so well oh my god

Waiting on the Sun || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Waiting on the Sun by Citizen Soldier

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1010

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Realization of feelings

Leona has never been one for dreams.

Dreams are a fool’s game, a glimmer of hope strung out in front of desperate people, forcing them to chase something they’ll never catch. He learned early on that hope was nothing but a pretty lie wrapped in a silver ribbon, and in the end, the ribbon always frayed.

The world never made space for second sons, and the sun never rose for men like him.

He should have stopped waiting for it years ago.

But somehow, you're still here—sitting beside him in the shade of a tree, legs stretched out, your presence quiet yet steady. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t need you to. That’s what he likes about you. You don’t fill the silence with empty words or meaningless comfort. You don’t try to fix him, like so many others before you.

You just exist beside him and that’s enough.

Leona doesn’t remember when you became his safe place.

At some point, your presence became a constant, as natural as the way he stretches out on the grass for an afternoon nap or the way the sun burns through the endless sky. You were just there—like an inevitable force of nature.

And damn if he doesn’t resent how much he needs it.

Because he does need it. He needs you in ways he’ll never admit aloud, in ways that make his stomach twist and his throat tighten. You make it so easy to believe, even when he’s spent a lifetime telling himself not to.

Somewhere along the way, you learned him too well. You can tell when his bitterness sharpens, when his patience wears thin, when he’s barely holding onto the threads of his temper. You don’t try to drag him into the light, but you don’t let him drown in the dark, either.

Instead, you just sit with him.

Like now.

Leona exhales, tipping his head back against the rough bark of the tree. The weight of the past few days lingers in his bones, making him feel heavier than usual. The exhaustion never fully leaves—it clings to him like a second skin.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Your voice is soft, cutting through the stillness.

Leona cracks an eye open. “Doubt it.”

You huff, barely phased by his dry remark. “You think nothing’s ever going to change. That you’re stuck in a cycle you can’t break. That waiting for things to get better is pointless.”

He stiffens, the words settling deep in his chest like stones. “You got all that just from lookin’ at me?”

“I got all that from knowing you.”

That shouldn’t make his heart stutter the way it does.

He doesn’t say anything, just turns his gaze back to the horizon. It stretches on endlessly, a vast expanse of golden plains and open sky. The view should be freeing. Instead, it feels like a cage with invisible walls.

A future that will never belong to him.

A throne that will never be his.

A world that will never see him as anything more than the spare.

The sun has never risen for men like him.

“I know what you’re going to say next,” he mutters. “That I should ‘keep trying.’ That things’ll ‘work out’ eventually. That if I just—”

“I’m not going to say that.”

He stops.

You tilt your head, a gentle smile pulling at your lips. “I’m not here to tell you to change. I’m not here to tell you things will magically get better. I just…” Your fingers brush over the back of his hand, tentative and warm. “I just want you to know that you don’t have to shoulder it alone.”

His breath catches.

No one has ever said that to him before.

No one has ever meant it before.

Leona has spent his whole life carrying the weight of his own bitterness, his own resentment, his own failures. No one ever told him he could set it down. No one ever offered to help him hold it.

No one but you.

His fingers twitch under yours.

Leona has never been one for dreams.

But when he looks at you, he wonders if maybe, he’s been waiting on the wrong thing all this time.

He doesn’t realize he’s in love with you until much later.

Maybe it’s the way you laugh, soft and easy, like the world has never once hurt you. Maybe it’s the way you look at him—like he’s not a disappointment, not a failure, not a second son who never mattered. Maybe it’s the way you never push him to be anything other than who he is.

Maybe it’s everything.

But when he finally does realize, it hits him like a landslide.

And suddenly, he’s terrified.

Because what if he loses this?

What if he loses you?

Leona doesn’t pray, but he does now.

He prays that you never leave. That you never wake up one day and decide that he’s too much trouble, that he’s too broken, that he’ll never be what you deserve.

He prays that this feeling—the quiet warmth that seeps into his bones whenever you’re around—never fades.

And yet, he still can’t bring himself to say it.

Not yet.

The words finally escape him on a night like this—under a sky filled with stars, your hand resting lightly in his, your head against his shoulder.

“Stay.” His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

You shift slightly, peering up at him with wide eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhales sharply, his grip tightening around yours. “No, I mean—” His throat works, the words catching like sandpaper. “Stay with me.”

Understanding dawns in your eyes, and for a moment, he thinks you might say no. That you might turn away.

But then you smile—soft, warm, home.

“Okay.”

Leona doesn’t believe in miracles.

But when you press your lips to his, slow and tender and real, he thinks that maybe the sun has been shining on him all along.

He just hadn’t noticed.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[occamstfs]

MuskMask Up

Found footage of the missing persons Eddie Leon and Bowen Chen, last seen vlogging at a new gym with a mandatory mask policy. Well documented is what seems to happen when one forgets theirs.

Mixing it up a bit! Diary entries within a short metanarrative police investigation- Meat of the story is coworkers bulking up at an advanced rate after borrowing masks from the gym, hope you enjoy! -Occam

The following footage was found by the now missing-in-action Detective Smith during a missing persons investigation of civilians Eduardo “Eddie” Leon and Bowen Chen. If you have any information on the whereabouts of the pair or Detective Smith please call APD with information.

February 1st:

The scene opens with Eddie’s face inches away from a tripod he’s setting up. Behind him, stretching outside the entrance to a gym, is coworker Bowen Chen. Eddie smiles once he sees the camera has begun recording and backs away to start the first vlog on his journey to better health. Hopping up and waving both hands with abandon, he does just that.

“Heyyy guys! Today’s day one of hitting the gym with Bowen! Obviously he knows what he’s doing so this whole thing should be a piece of cake- I mean look at him!” He gestures to his friend mid-drink of water and Bowen quickly chokes it down before shyly responding. Face blushing pink as he’s clearly not nearly as comfortable on camera.

“Ah, uhm- Yes. Hello, audience? I’ve been ah uhm, steady? At the gym for a few years now and Eddie was wondering if I could show him the ropes. Sooo, uhm.” Eduardo was very clear that he was going to be doing a vlog about the whole thing but Bowen had no idea how much a camera would put him on edge. Seeing him flounder and hearing every word come quieter than the last Eddie quickly picks up the slack.

“So yeah! We’re going to a new gym that opened up, all their ads brag about retention rate and quick results which is what I’m all about haha!” Seeing a man in a face mask come through the automatic doors behind him Eddie claps his hands and tacks on, “OH! They also still require face masks which, I don’t mind,” he playfully grasps his friend’s jaw causing blush to return over a shy grin, “it does mean you might be seeing less of this little cutie’s face but so it goes~ When in Brome hee hee!” 

Bowen’s phone goes off as a timer set to ensure the pair stretch for long enough comes to an end. He then chastises Eddie for spending so long of their prep time vlogging before crossing his arms and resetting the clock to make sure his trainee stretches. Eddie quickly turns off the vlog with a wink, “Yikes already on his bad side haha~ See y’all later!”

February 9th:

“Helloooo guys~ Took my mask off real quick to record this.” He pauses to sniff the air and almost gags as he smells the musk of the gym, usually covered by his mask. “God is this what all gyms smell like?” Looking down at his sweat stained body and glistening chest he grimaces as he guesses he’s certainly not helping. Shaking it off he returns to his vlog, “Hm. I’ll edit that out- Helloooo Guys! You would not believe how much progress I’ve made already!”

He does a small flex and it’s clear he has put on more weight than would be expected, or rather more weight in a week than should be possible. “No one tells you how much you have to eat to put on mass, guys! Or I guess- Bowen told me huh?” He giggles and then jolts upright and turns the camera to his trainer working at a machine. “Speaking of gains there Mr. Mass is himself.” Behind the lens Eddie continues, “I forgot my mask today so the sweetie let me borrow his. Hear that ladies? This hunk’s also a gentleman. Someone get a ring on that finger!”

As Eddie continues to film Bowen’s reps it’s clear that something besides the effort is causing him discomfort. In fact it almost seems like the workout isn’t bothering him at all as he rolls his eyes before bending down to put more weight on the machine. With a free hand he plugs his nose to have the slightest moment of freedom from the musky scent that must be distracting him. Then as soon as he grunts through his first rep at the new weight a figure appears behind him, wearing a mask over the whole of his head and taps on his shoulder before clearly preparing to confront him.

“Oop, oh shit-” Eddie whispers, too far from his trainer to know what exactly the little confrontation is about, but after a few gestures to his maskless face it’s pretty clear. The sound of Eddie quickly putting his mask back on can be heard behind the camera as across the gym Bowen clearly nods a few times, assumedly acquiescing, motioning to pack up and head back later. He apologies and gestures for Eddie to head to the locker room but then the sweaty masked man waves him off and pats him on the back, pulling out a mask from his sweatpants.

Bowen’s gasp is loud enough to be heard enough on camera as he backs into the machine in shock as the brute holds out a mask retrieved from his sweaty pants. He waves his hands clear as day that he’s not about to put on that must-be stained mask. Eddie quickly gets off his machine and starts to head over check in on his friend. He knows Bowen hates attention and is wont to fold at any confrontation but surely he’s not about to be pressured into putting on that dirty rag.

Keeping the camera trained on Bowen just in case, he’s too focused on the shot to really notice the fear in the man’s eyes as he stares up at the masked figure. And then, with a gulp, Bowen shakily accepts the mask, close enough to read lips one could just about make out Bowen’s whispered apology, “I’m sorry sir it won’t happen again” And then he does the unthinkable and puts on the dirty mask. Eddie reacts quietly enough only for the camera to pick up, “Jesus Christ- Bo!? What are you doing?!” 

After the masked man pats Bowen on the back, harder than one surely should, and offers a rough handshake, he departs. The camera captures a few more frames as Eddie walks the final few feet over. While not covered in sweat, it’s clear that the mask on Bowen’s face is wrinkled and has a small dark patch in its corner. Either from the workout or from the anxious confrontation, the trainer is clearly breathing heavily. 

With each breath his eyes begin to glisten glassy. Staring off into the middle distance he adjusts his pants and seems distracted as each heaving breath strives to be deeper than the one that came before, as each gasp of musky air tries to instill more of the essence trapped within the wretched mask. His eyes almost begin to cross in the last frame before Eddie puts his phone in his pocket, leaving the last few seconds of the recording audio only. “Uhhhhm, Hey Bowen? What the fuck was that?”

There is a few seconds pause followed by the sound of presumably Bowen swallowing saliva before he answers “Oh! Uhhh yeah? I don’t know dude?” “Dude?” “Sorry my head feels like it’s swimming, Eddie? That was so uhh, intense-” The sound of adjusting clothing again comes through, someone pulling on the elastic band of their underwear.

Realizing the whole confrontation only happened because he forgot his own mask, Eddie apologizes, “That wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take yours. Look we can swap if you-”“NO.” Silence follows once more before Bowen continues, “No I uhm- don’t mind br- Eddie. How about we call it there and head home?” Eduardo agrees and the pair head off to the locker room. After a few steps the recording ends.

February 15th:

The image begins as usual of Eddie from afar, though the sound of weight’s clanging is far louder than usual. After a few false starts interrupted by the din of falling metal, the vlogger walks a few feet away and begins talking to the camera, “Hey everyone, quick update this time-” Flexing to himself he takes a moment to address his continued growth before in the distance he hears brash, deep laughter and what little of his face is revealed makes his worry clear as day.

“I’m still chugging along but Bowen has, well blown up? Ever since the last vlog when that asshole made him wear a dirty mask it’s almost like he’s a totally different person? Here, look-” Eddie quickly pans the camera over to a man almost unrecognizable resting on a bench. Beyond having arms as large as Bowen’s legs should be, the man’s demeanor is indeed entirely different. He flexes his arm and moans to himself as he sees a central vein pushing against the strained shirt sleeve.

“Is it steroids? Do you think? OH! He’s also started using the masks the gym provides- Are there like, inhale-y steroids?” The vlogger quickly heads to the web to research, paying no mind to what the lens catch as the camera unintentionally witnesses the massive man lumbering up from his bench, leaving an unwiped sweat stain in his wake.

Massive pecs bounce with each step and thighs strain his shorts as he makes his way over to Eddie, “YO! Edster- Come help me stretch!” Eddie flinches as he’s shouted at, groaning uncomfortably he obeys his trainer. Forgetting he was taking a vlog at all he sets his phone down. The air fills with groans, cracking bones, and almost deliberately loud grunts from Bowen.

“You know I seem to remember you wanting to not put on too much weight Bo?” 

There’s a deep guffaw, “Pshyeah, but y’know, when the muscle-bug bites huhuh!” The sound of his sleeves straining from a performative flex covers up his breathy moan from hyperextension. “Woah bro, why do you look so down?”

Clearly not thinking his mood would be caught by a man whose only gear has suddenly become self-obsessed, Eddie stumbles, “Well I don’t know, I guess? I’m just worried about- You just seem a little different is all.

“Huh.” There’s a long silence interrupted only by the buzz of music and clanging weights far off. Then there’s a quick gasp as in one motion Bowen stands and hoists Eddie into the air, “woAH! Bo! Put me down!” 

“Huhuh no bro I get it- You don’t know why you’re not seein’ results as good as mine I totally get it!” Eddie grunts and gags in arms that truly could snap him in half, “Ugh B- you’re so sweaty ple-ugh.” Squirming in the behemoth’s grasp his face is forced into sweaty pecs that promptly stain his mask a dark blue. “God you’re going to get your b.o. All over me dude-” 

There are a few more seconds of complaint before Bowen finally drops his little buddy. Picking up his phone there’s a look of concern or questioning on his face, any number of thoughts soar through his mind, has Bowen always been that tall? Why has he grown so much? What happened to him, is it going to happen to me? And then he takes a deep breath. A sigh in relief or irritation, it’s unclear, but it doesn’t matter. The camera gets a much better glimpse this time as the gym-goer breaths in the oh-so musky, mask filtered air.

Under the mask his mouth squrims into a grimace, but already eyes begin to give way to thoughtless longing. With another breath one twitches while the other falls open wide, wanting nothing more than to mainline the scent directly into his nervous system. Pupils dilate large enough to almost hide his cacao irises before a meaty hand pats him on the back, “Earth to Eddo- Bro? You comin’ to wash up or what huhuh!” Jarred back to sentience, Eddie nods and follows him, the recording ending a few moments after.

February 22nd:

The camera alights on someone unrecognizable baring his torso for fans he doesn’t yet have, though the glazed look in his eyes is more than enough hint to prove it is the vlogger before he introduces himself. “Yoooo guys! Back at it again with Bowen, how’re we lookin?”

Eddie flexes a thick bicep and smirks under his mask, adjusting it as he laughs. It’s deeper, slower, a far cry from his usual giggle. “oh yeah, I’ve been usin’ the gyms masks just like Bowen said. And I gotta say, I think they’re the real secret of this place, I’ve just been packin’ on muscle since I started borrowing them.”

Standing to his side, Bowen makes himself known, somehow even bulkier than last time. Veins criss cross his forearms and shoulders stretch wide enough that it’s a wonder he was able to even get the suctioned compression shirt om. The thin elastic straps of his mask almost snap as he speaks up, the meek camera-shy man he once was clearly erased from his mind, “I’m saying Ed! Don’t know why you were holdin’ out on trying them after seeing how much I’ve grown!” Bowen crosses his arms and his top is stretched to his limits.

Eddie laughs before his eyes go dull as laughter leaves him with no choice but to take yet another deep breath. Lost in a thought that seems to never come, his words are barely audible enough to be caught by the camera almost mistakable for a moan, it may as well be one. He whispers “need more.” Drawn out like a death knell his vocal chords creak as they lengthen. And then, the camera captures the impossible.

It looks as if it’s edited. Arms go limp as they hang lower, bloat larger, heavier, barely staying in their sockets before his shoulders similarly bulge into thick balls of muscle. Pecs that have existed for less than a month push his sweaty tank top to its limits. The bench on which he rests creaks under his weight as thighs send tears through athletic shorts that were already too tight to wear. 

Behind him, his massive trainer’s eyes widen as he pauses his workout to stare at Eddie’s growth. Hungrily watching as individual strands of muscle flex and surge. Were his own mask not already sweat-stained, the drool frothing from his mouth may be more apparent. Bowen lets his weights clatter to the floor as he staggers close and leans in close to Eddie’s neck, sniffing like a predator, releasing something in between a whimper and grown as his scarred palms clench at his prey-apparent’s biceps, still bulging larger in his hands.

Bowen’s chest, over doubled in size since he began frequenting this gym, produces a rumble low enough to barely register as words. Through his mask he teeths the man’s neck, “Think I got another idea to get some gains Eddie.” This stirs the man from his reveries though does not for minute stop his growth as he bolts to his feet, almost falling forward from the new weight on his chest. Surely he would have had the man about to work him out maintained the iron grip on his arm.

Not another word is heard from the pair as they swiftly retreat to the locker room. The tripod continues filming until Eddie’s phone dies and contains little else of note. Other gym goers wander around the background, all of them masked and many of them stare forward with the same glazed eyes as they sit at various machines, laughing to themselves, breathing heavily, and lifting more with each heaving rep. Just before his phone dies and the recording ends, the man who gave Bowen his mask collects the tripod, through his mask a smile is clear on his face.

On March fifteenth newly promoted Detective Archie Smith follows up on a lead from coworkers of the missing men that the pair had recently started hitting up the Musclerade Gym. something about vlogging. The detective didn’t care. Miraculously, almost immediately did he find a pair of men who identify as Eduardo and Bowen. The only thing is-both resolutely deny ever having worked in an office building. Beyond that, it barely takes a glance to tell that despite their names and races that they cannot be the men in question. By sheer body weight alone, it’s impossible

Sure Mr. Chen looks healthy enough in his license photo but that massive hunk that stands before him could punch straight through the Detective. With a gulp Archie finds his eyes desperately wanting to trace the powerful muscles, begging for his attention through spandex and strained nylon. He finds his attention drawn to his own crotch as he can’t help but trace the veins on ‘Eduardo’s’ flexing arms to a hairy armpit dripping with sweat. Before he’s lost to his lusts however, he comes to his senses as the acrid musk pouring from both men sears his nose.

With a grunt he shakes off the beyond unprofessional distraction and meets the eyes of both men, neither too pleased to see the officer in their space. He fakes a smile and turns to continue his investigation before being intercepted by a man who seems to be of some authority, pulling him off to the side. Only his eyes are visible which sets Archie on edge. “What seems to be the problem officer?”

He explains his case and the mystery man calls the pair over, their harsh glares soften and Eddie laughs as he’s reminded of his little vlogs. Apparently the pair are trainers at the gym which despite some strange ping at the back of his mind, ignoring something screaming from his gut, when he sees their sculpted forms, smells their noxious odors, he can’t help but believe them. The masked man even offers to give him the recorded film, that is as long as he’s okay adhering to the gym’s guidelines while he waits.

There’s a glint in the eyes of both massive men now standing behind him as they each dislodge wrinkled masks from stained pants that have clearly suffered at least one gym session. Prepared to suffer more discomfort than this to sate his curiosity he throws on one of the hopefully unused masks. It’s at this point that the case goes cold. 

This recounting of events, along with a copy of Eduardo Leon’s ‘vlogs’ were found sloppily scrawled on some magazines near the shredded uniform of Officer Smith. It doesn’t seem to be his handwriting unless he were racing quite hastily against, well. I haven’t quite the idea what. I suppose it is of some note that they were next to a bloated member of the gym who didn’t have any I.D. on him. His clothes seemed to be from a lost and found as they didn’t fit quite right. We were unable to further investigate his identity, but without a doubt it simply could not be Officer Smith.

The junior officer who retrieved the evidence could scarcely spend five minutes next to the man, and given Smith’s predilections towards order and cleanliness it simply could not be him. Unfortunately the state of the gym put the officer in such unease that he did no further investigation. It’s a shame as when an investigation team was sent the following day it was as if the gym was never there. I am not one for flights of fancy, it is my belief that the whole situation was simply some drug front, perhaps steroids. At any rate should you see, or perhaps smell any of these men. I advise caution. And under no circumstances should you borrow one of their face masks, obviously.

Included above are to our best knowledge are the most recent sightings of Bowen Chen, Eduardo Leon, and finally a third depicting Eduardo alongside who we believe to be the man of interest found nearby Officer Smith’s uniform. It seems they haven’t stopped growing, that is, if this all isn’t some wild goose chase. Again, if you have information do report to APD. Though please refrain from submitting any, biological material. We have lost enough of the forensics department to this mania as is.

[yois2aki]

wc. 0.4k

the bathroom was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ceiling light above and the occasional sound of your anxious breathing. you sat on the edge of the counter, your fingers nervously tracing the edges of the pregnancy test as caleb paced back and forth beside you. he kept glancing at the small white stick, then at you, and then back at the timer on your phone.

“you good?” he asked, his voice unusually soft but laced with tension.

you looked up at him, feeling the butterflies flutter in your stomach. “yeah. just… nervous, i guess.”

caleb paused mid-step, turning to face you with an almost guilty look on his face. “i hate seeing you like this,” he admitted, his hands finding their way to the pockets of his jacket. “i want to make it all better, but… i’m just as nervous as you.”

you let out a small laugh, grateful for the way he always made it seem like everything was going to be okay, even when everything was uncertain. “i know, caleb. it’s just… it’s a lot, you know?”

he nodded, and after a beat, walked over to stand beside you, his presence calming. he placed a hand on your knee, the warmth of it grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. “whatever happens, we’re in this together, okay?” his eyes were so soft, and you could see the sincerity in them, making your heart melt.

you felt a lump form in your throat at the intensity of his gaze, and the way his words seemed to make everything feel just a little more manageable. “i know,” you whispered, leaning into him. “thank you.”

caleb smiled and kissed the top of your head, holding you gently for a few moments. “i love you,” he murmured.

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion.

then the timer on your phone went off, and you both froze. the next few seconds felt like an eternity. you reached for the pregnancy test, your hands shaking, and caleb was right beside you as you turned it over together.

and there it was. the unmistakable plus sign.

you gasped, unable to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. caleb blinked, his expression unreadable for a split second before it softened into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

“well,” he whispered, as if afraid to disturb the magic of the moment, “i guess we’re going to be parents.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, and a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “i guess we are,” you whispered back, your heart swelling with love and happiness.

caleb pulled you into his arms, lifting you slightly off the counter, and you melted against him, letting out a shaky breath of pure joy. “i’m going to be a dad,” he mumbled to himself, his voice thick with emotion, as if trying to believe his own words.

you smiled up at him through your tears. “i know you will be the best father. and i’ll be the best mom.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside felt distant and insignificant.

it was just the two of you, the love you shared, and the little one you were about to bring into the world.

[bapeach]

Boombastic

Just a short story while I try to get back into writing. Don't love it, but it's better than nothing 😁 Constructive criticism is always welcome. Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Nika Mühl x female!reader  Word count: 1.3k+ Summary: You catch Nika watching TikTok edits of you.

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

When you enrolled in UConn, your only plans were to play basketball and get a degree. You didn’t care about making friends or getting a girlfriend. You only really wanted to play ball, but you knew you needed to have a backup in case something happened and you could never play again. So a degree in communication it was.

It’s not like you struggled making friends, you just didn’t ever have your own little friend group. You hopped from group to group, always a friend to everyone, but never letting anyone get too close. Well, that was before you came to university. If you really thought you were going to be able to only be teammates with your basketball team, you thought wrong. Joining that team means joining a family. And thank God for that. You loved those girls to pieces and were happy to call every single one of them your best friends.

You were especially close to Nika, however. Which was a good thing, seeing as she was also your roommate. And maybe you also had a tiny crush on her, but no one needed to know that. Sure, you two playfully flirted with each other all the time, but that was all just a joke. To the Croatian, at least. You meant every single thing you said to her. Things like how she was the prettiest girl you’d ever seen, how her smile could light up the darkest rooms, and how if she were yours, you’d treat her right.

There are moments when you think she might like you back. The way she looks at you isn’t the way friends look at each other. Friends also don’t blush the way she does when you lean in close to mutter a compliment. But then you start overthinking it and make yourself believe that you’re just imagining things. Because there is no way that the goddess that is Nika Mühl will ever like you.

----

You hum your favorite song to yourself as you walk through the hallways. You’d just gone out for some errands and were on the way back to your dorm. You wonder if Nika is already there or if she’s still with Paige. You hope she’s home, maybe then you two could finish the show you’d started a while ago. You quicken your step a little as you near your dorm. When you open the door, you take a step inside to see Nika already on the couch, her back towards you. 

A grin appears on your face as you quietly put your stuff down on the table next to the door. You open your mouth to say something, but you know that wouldn’t do much. Nika is wearing those annoying headphones that you complain about at least once a day. They’re great for the person wearing them, the sound is clear, and outside sounds are completely muffled. They aren’t so great for the people around them, though. You can clearly hear everything the wearer is listening to, while they can’t hear you yell at them to turn it down.

You start taking off your shoes as you hear the song playing on Nika’s phone. You smirk a little as you recognize the music. Boombastic by Shaggy. The song has been all over your fyp all week, so you figure the brunette is scrolling on TikTok. Your face scrunches up in confusion when you’ve finally taken off both shoes. The song was playing on repeat. “I swear to God if she’s watching an edit of herself to that song,” you think to yourself as a mischievous grin grows on your face.

You walk over and pause behind her, watching her phone from over her shoulder. Your mouth drops open as you see yourself in the video. A smirk appears on your face as you watch Nika play the TikTok over and over again. You see that she’s already liked it and has it saved to one of her folders. You shoot forward, snatching the phone out of her hands as you quickly back up.

The brunette bolts up as she looks at you with wide eyes, her cheeks blazing red in embarrassment. “Y/N, give me back my phone!” She huffs. She tries to take it out of your hands, but you hold your arm away from her as you look at her cockily. “Damn, I look good,” you hum, pursing your lips.

“Y/N, please,” she begs, looking at the floor. You tap her profile as you check out in which folder she saved the video. “Oh. My. God… You have a folder with 102 edits saved of me?” You laugh in shock and amusement. The Croatian girl burns an even brighter red as she stops trying to steal the phone from you, having accepted defeat. She sits back down as she puts her face in her hands. “Shut uppp,” she whines.

You look away from the phone towards the brunette, your smile softening. “God, she’s adorable,” you think. Nika huffs as she hears you take a screenshot of the number and send it to yourself. She wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Once you’re done, you throw the phone next to her, not looking as it bounces against her thigh.

You grab your own phone, saving the screenshot before opening your TikTok. After a few swipes, you put your phone back in your pocket as you look at Nika with a grin. Feeling her phone buzz, the brunette grabs it and unlocks it to check your message. She stares at the picture you sent for a few seconds. It was a screenshot of your own TikTok account, a folder with her name on it visible. The number “253” on display.

“You… you have 253 TikToks saved of me?” She says as she looks up at you, her eyes wide. “102 is a rookie number. I thought you liked me?” You tease as you cross your arms. She rolls her eyes as you walk over, a smirk forming on her face. “253 of me? People are gonna think you have a crush on me, Y/N/N,” she grins. You grab her hand and pull her up from the couch. Her cheeks flaming as you pull her against you. “Hmm, and so what if I do?” You say with a low voice as you grab her chin. 

“I’m not sure I believe you,” she replies, looking up at you with doe eyes. “Is that so?” You mutter, leaning a little closer to her. “Mhm… Why don’t you show me how much you like me?” She mumbles back. She barely has time to finish her sentence as you pull her face towards your own. You kiss her hard and deep as you grip her a little tighter. When you’re out of breath, you back up a bit and smirk. “How was that for proof?”

She rolls her eyes at you, a grin on her face. You soften a bit as you look at her. You move your hand to cup her cheek as you rub your thumb across it. “I really like you, Niks,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You don’t care about the fact that you’re looking at her with vulnerable, desperate eyes. You needed her to know. 

She grabs your face in her hands, pulling you close. You stare into her eyes, only being a few inches away from her. “Then why haven’t you asked me out yet?” She murmurs, her lips a small pout. You look at her in adoration and a hint of regret. “I’m sorry for being too scared to… Let me make it up to you? Dinner at 6 tomorrow?”

She grins at you, pulling you in for another kiss. “Deal.” You beam a wide smile at her before smirking. “So… Do you often watch TikToks of me on repeat?” You let out a deep laugh as Nika slaps your shoulder, pushing you away. You grab her wrists, pulling her back against you in a hug. “You’re a jerk,” she mutters against your chest. “Yeah, but you love me,” you reply, feeling her smile against your shirt. “Hmph,” she huffs, but squeezes you tighter.

You suppose those damn headphones aren’t so bad after all.

[yangjungwonisms]

Dress- YJW

warnings: NSFW| dirty talk, semi-public sex, choking(only a little), MDNI 18+

You knew as soon as Jungwon stepped through the door today that you were about to have an interesting night. For one, he was in a much better mood than he normally was after work and secondly, he was clingier with you than usual. Not to say he was ever in a bad mood when he came home but today it was different. He hadn’t let you out of his sight once since he got home, immediately wrapping you in his arms for a hug and planting a kiss on your lips. You two stood like that for a while just enjoying being with each other. But every time you tried to walk away to continue with what you were doing he’d just pull you back into him and pout whenever you tried to leave. “Baby no don’t move please. wanna hold you, missed you so much today”. You never could deny him when he started asking so nicely. “Wonie, what has gotten into you today? Is everything okay”? At that he finally released his hold on you and walked into the next room. You followed him just a little confused about what he was doing. “I’m perfect baby, just missed you is all. Hey, I’ve got an idea, let’s go out tonight. We can get all dressed up and go out for drinks and then go have dinner”. You had to admit, the idea did sound nice, it would give you a chance to actually spend time with your boyfriend which is something you hadn’t gotten to do much of recently. “That sounds like a lot of fun baby. But are you sure everything is okay? You seem different today”. He simply turned to you, smiled and winked before answering “I’m fine baby, I promise. Just wanna take my pretty girl out on the town and spoil her”.

You’d never seen Jungwon get ready as fast as he did tonight. He was showered and dressed within 30 minutes leaving you to take your time. Eventually you had to lock him out of your room because he was starting to become a distraction. It had started with him sitting on the bed watching you with what you can only describe as a predatory look in his eyes. Then when you weren’t looking he had come up behind you placing little kisses up and down your neck. “You look so beautiful princess. Can’t believe how lucky I am to have you”. You turn around quickly dodging his embrace “Jungwon baby thank you but I need you to go away. If you want us to actually leave the house you need to let me get ready in peace”. He walked backwards towards the door putting both of his hands up in surrender “sorry baby, I’ll leave you to get ready in peace” and with that he closed the door behind him. You felt a tiny bit bad for kicking him out of your room like that so you thought you’d reward him later for being so good to you.

Once you had finished getting ready, you walk out to the living room to grab your jacket signaling that you were ready to go. Before you could go anywhere Jungwon looked up at you letting out a wolf whistle “damn my baby looks gorgeous for me”. No matter how many times he complimented you it always made you blush. “Thank you baby, dressed up just for you”. Jungwon was really starting to regret his suggestion to go out, not that he didn’t want to take you out and spoil you, he just really wanted to fuck you more. One look at him told you that. “Hm, I'm the luckiest man in the world, baby. We should get going now yeah”?

The entire ride from your place to the bar was one filled with tension, you were both displaying extraordinary amounts of restraint so as not to jump each other's bones in the back of the cab. The bar Jungwon took you to was very fancy and in a great neighborhood. He was able to steal you two a booth tucked away in the corner. Over the course of your time at the bar you two may have been drinking more than was planned originally. You two weren’t drunk by any means but you weren’t exactly sober either. But the thing that always seemed to happen when you two were tipsy was that you both became less aware of your surroundings and more aware of each other. The touches started out innocent, but quickly became lingering. Eventually that meant Jungwon placing a hand on your thigh, inching it up ever so slightly. If you were sober it might’ve been nearly imperceptible but the slow drag of his palm against your skin made you feel like you were on fire. Without the watchful eyes of anyone else he leaned in and started kissing you, pulling back just enough for it to appear innocent from the outside. “Baby, you look so sexy for me. Can hardly control myself right now”. You didn’t want him to either, one word from either of you and he’d have taken you right then and there even if you were in public. You grab his hand slowly inching it in between your thighs but stopping it inches away from the intended destination. He tries to move his hand so he can finally touch you the way he’d been wanting to all night. “Do you wanna know a secret”? He was hoping you’d say you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Tell me”. You pull him into you leaning forward just enough to place a delicate bite on his ear lobe “I’m not wearing any panties”. Once you said that, you released your hold on his wrist. With absolutely no hesitation he moved his hand just enough to come in contact with your pussy. He started to touch you albeit with less urgency than he normally would’ve had. “You do this for me baby”? Your only answer was a nod of your head. “Get your things, we’re going”.

Jungwon was eerily silent the entire ride home, you thought maybe there was the slightest chance he was mad at you for doing that, but what you didn’t know was that he was trying to control himself. But it was another story once he got out of the cab, he was perfectly fine waiting until you had gotten up to your apartment but then when you moved to step out of the cab he saw the briefest flash of your bare pussy and he lost all semblance of control. When you had entered the lobby of your apartment building he did a quick glance around to make sure no one was out there before he dragged you into the stare well. You had no time to protest before he had you pushed up against the wall. “Fuck baby, you’re so dirty leaving the house without any panties on”. Before you could wrap your mind around what was happening Jungwon snuck his hand up your dress wasting no time finding your clit and rubbing it. He’s quick to throw his hand over your mouth, silencing any moans that were threatening to slip out. He’s quick to grab your leg and hitch it up before he starts fucking two fingers into you. “So wet for me baby, was this what you had in mind when you chose not to wear any panties tonight”? All you were physically able to do was nod your head. He’d kept the pace of his fingers slow and steady, you surmised it was to work you up further. Just as he’s finally started to pick the pace up he’s quick to pull his hand out of your dress at the sound of someone walking down the stairs.

Before you two could get caught he pulled you out of the stare well and back into the lobby. You knew one look at you two would show how flushed you were and how hard Jungwon was in his pants. The wait for the elevator was torturous, Jungwon was all but flush against your back trying to hide the hard on he was sporting. You two were lucky enough to get an empty elevator. As soon as the doors close Jungwon is back on you once again, trapping you in the corner of the elevator and kissing you like a man starved. You knew your time in the elevator was coming to an end so you snuck your hand in between the two of you and palmed him over his pants. The way his hips immediately start rocking into your hand leaves you both dizzy. If you had the time you would’ve gotten on your knees and given him the best head of his life right there for everyone to see. Instead what you do is pop open the button on his pants and push them down just enough to pull his cock out. You can tell he’s taken aback by the sudden movement. He tries to stop your movements but you’re too quick, taking him in your hand. Your movements are quick and slightly impatient setting a punishing pace for him. “Fuck baby, we can’t do this here, anyone could see”. He was such a hypocrite, having had no issue fingering you in the stare well where anyone could’ve seen you two at any moment. “Hm but do you really want me to stop”? His hips had started to grind forward creating more friction for him. “No please don’t”. That’s what you thought. Taking a page out of his book you speed up your movements and start whispering into his ear, which is a move he always made on you. “Baby, you have no idea how much I need you to fuck me right now”. As he goes to speak the elevator stops, Jungwon is quick to tuck himself into his pants pulling you in front of him to hide what had been going on. He does this in just enough time before someone steps into the elevator. The air is awkward between you two, you could tell by his body language Jungwon was irritated.

You’d no sooner walked into your apartment before Jungwon had you pushed up against it bringing his hand up to wrap ever so slightly around your neck. “Did you think that was funny baby? Answer me”. You should’ve known you wouldn’t get away with your stunt back in the elevator. “Just wanted to make you feel good baby”. He doesn’t buy it for one second, scoffing while tightening the grip on your neck. “Should make you get on your knees for me baby, but I’m too impatient for that. Need to fuck you now”. He takes his hand off your throat to undo his pants and take his cock back out. He’s too impatient to undress you, opting to push your dress up around your hips. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around him. He’s about to push into you before you grab his hand and move it back to your throat. He’d only ever choked you a couple of times, each at your request but never during sex. He’d never be able to put into words how much he liked when you asked him to choke you. He pushes into you, bottoming out in one swift motion. He’d normally wait for you to adjust to him but the way your pussy is sucking him in he can’t find it in himself to care. His pace is so fast that you can’t catch your breath. But it’s also so good that you don’t care about anything else but the way his cock feels inside of you. “Am I fucking you good baby”? You were shocked he even needed to ask you that, especially with the way you were moaning for him. “You- fuck- you always fuck me good baby. Can’t get enough of your cock”. You aren’t sure how he still has the energy to fuck you against the door when he’s pistoning into you how he is. “Always so good at taking my cock baby. Been waiting to fuck you all night”. You’re all but screaming his name at this point, overwhelmed by everything, by the drag of his cock inside of you and how good he smells up close. You’re overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and with the sweat starting to drip off of his hair. In short, you’re overwhelmed by him. “Fuck Jungwon, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum baby”. His hips falter at that, a telltale sign he himself is about to finish. “Gonna cum too baby. Where do you want me”?

You’re so far gone that when you babble out your answer to him you miss his reaction. “Cum inside me please, it’s okay”. You two had never had sex raw before, even though you were on the pill it just never got brought up. “Princess wants me to cum inside her huh? Fuck- you’re gonna take what I give you then”. With a few more sloppy thrusts Jungwon buries his face into your neck letting out the most sinful moans before cumming inside of you. As soon as he pulls out of you, he all but collapses on the floor pulling you with him. You two lay there for a few minutes trying to catch your breath. Jungwon is content in that moment, but he knows that he’s nowhere near done with you tonight. “What got into you tonight Wonie”? He himself isn’t even sure, he just knows when he saw you once he got home from work that he needed to fuck you good and hard. “You got into me baby. Don’t tell me you didn’t like it. I felt how wet you were at the bar”. He had you there. You were just as insatiable as he was. But before you could go to answer he’s flipped you around so he’s laying on top of you. He leaves kisses down your neck slowly moving his way down your body. “Hmm baby, I’m sorry we didn’t get to dinner tonight. But I’m going to have to insist we skip straight to dessert”. With that, your night was about to get a lot more fun.

[atinyslittleworld]

Grave Encounters

wooyoung x f!reader

Summary: In a world overrun by zombies, Wooyoung saves Y/N, only to face chaos when his group believes she’s infected.

Word Count: 1,353

Genre: post-apocalyptic, angst, action

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, wounds, zombies and guns

Wooyoung had learned not to stray too far.

Leaving the safehouse was always a risk, but it was a necessary one. Food was running low, and hunger was as much of a killer as the undead. He had volunteered to go out alone—he was quick, careful, and knew these streets better than most. A simple supply run, in and out. No unnecessary risks.

The city was eerily silent as he moved through its decayed skeleton. The air was thick with the scent of rot, the sky heavy with dark clouds that threatened rain. Abandoned cars lined the cracked roads, their shattered windows glinting in the weak light. Buildings stood hollow and lifeless, their broken signs swaying slightly in the breeze.

Wooyoung clutched his metal pipe tightly as he made his way toward an old convenience store he had scouted days prior. It was one of the last untouched places—at least, he hoped so. If he was lucky, there would still be some canned goods, maybe even bottled water. Anything would be better than what little they had left.

He was a few steps from the entrance when a scream cut through the dead air.

It was loud, raw, filled with sheer panic.

Wooyoung froze. His grip on the pipe tightened as his instincts screamed at him to turn back. Screams meant danger. Screams meant walkers. And if he could hear it, so could they.

But before he could stop himself, his feet were already moving.

He sprinted down the street, weaving between abandoned vehicles, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The sound had come from nearby—too close for him to ignore. Every survival instinct told him this was a mistake, that he should stick to his original path.

And then he saw her.

A girl was struggling against a walker, her back pressed against the rusted remains of a car. The undead had its rotting fingers clamped around her ankle, its milky eyes locked onto her as it clawed desperately at her leg.

She was screaming—loud, frantic, a sound so full of terror it sent a shiver down his spine.

And worse, she wasn’t just attracting him.

More walkers were emerging from the shadows, drawn to her cries, their grotesque figures limping toward her. Their guttural groans filled the air, a sick chorus of hunger and death.

She was seconds away from being overwhelmed.

Wooyoung didn’t hesitate.

He lunged forward, swinging his pipe with everything he had. The weapon connected with the walker’s skull with a sickening crack, but it wasn’t enough. It groaned, its grip tightening around her ankle as it snapped its teeth toward her.

She let out a choked sob, trying desperately to kick it off.

Wooyoung raised his pipe again and slammed it down. Hard.

The walker collapsed, its decayed head caving in under the force of the blow. Its body twitched once before finally falling still.

But there was no time to breathe.

The other undead were closing in, their sunken faces twisted in hunger.

Wooyoung grabbed the girl’s wrist, yanking her to her feet. “We need to move. Now.”

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her entire body trembling. She was still in shock, her eyes darting between him and the approaching horde.

“Hey!” He shook her slightly, forcing her to look at him. “Can you run?”

She swallowed hard, nodding.

“Then let’s go.”

With that, he pulled her with him, their footsteps pounding against the cracked pavement as the moans of the dead chased them.

The world around them was nothing but a blur of motion and noise—ragged breathing, pounding footsteps, and the blood-curdling groans of the undead.

Wooyoung refused to let go of her wrist.

The girl was slowing down, stumbling over the cracked pavement, barely able to keep up. But he wouldn’t let her fall behind.

“Come on!” he shouted, gripping her tighter, practically dragging her along. His legs burned, his chest ached, but none of it mattered.

All that mattered was getting her out alive.

He could hear them closing in. The snarling, the shuffling, the sickening sounds of decayed bodies moving too fast for something that should have been dead.

The safe house was just ahead.

He pushed forward, ignoring the way his muscles screamed at him, ignoring everything except survival.

Finally, they reached the entrance. Wooyoung slammed his fist against the heavy metal door, his voice hoarse from running.

“OPEN UP!”

For a horrifying moment, there was nothing.

Then—click.

The locks shifted. The door swung open.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung shoved her inside, stumbling in after her before slamming it shut behind them, locking out the nightmare still clawing at their heels.

Silence.

For the first time since this hellish chase began, there was no growling, no screaming—just the sound of his own labored breathing.

He pressed a hand against the cold metal, trying to steady himself. They were safe.

At least, that’s what he thought.

But something felt off.

The air in the room was wrong.

Too still. Too tense.

His stomach dropped.

Slowly, Wooyoung looked up.

The entire room—his team—stood in front of him, weapons drawn.

Pointed at her.

The girl let out a small, shaky breath, her body going rigid with fear.

Wooyoung’s mind reeled. “What the hell are you all doing?”

Yunho’s voice was quiet, but firm. Too calm.

“Wooyoung,” he said carefully, “step away from her.”

Confused, Wooyoung turned to look at her.

And then he saw it.

Blood.

A deep gash on her cheek, the crimson stark against her pale skin.

His heart stopped.

In their world, blood meant one thing.

“She’s bitten,” San muttered darkly.

Then—chaos.

“Wooyoung, get away from her!”

“She’s gonna turn!”

“You brought a fucking infected in here?!”

“She’s not bitten!” Wooyoung snapped, his voice rising in frustration.

“She’s bleeding everywhere!”

“How could you be so stupid, Wooyoung?!”

“You should’ve checked first!”

They were yelling over each other, their voices merging into a storm of accusations and panic.

And the girl?

She was trembling.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her body pressed against the wall, her hands shaking.

She wasn’t just scared.

She was terrified.

It was too much. Too loud. Too cruel.

And Wooyoung couldn’t take it anymore.

“SHUT UP!”

His voice boomed through the room, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

The air grew thick with tension.

For a few agonizing seconds, no one moved.

Then—Seonghwa stepped forward.

Unlike the others, he didn’t raise his weapon.

“I’ll check her,” Seonghwa said, his voice calm but firm.

No one spoke.

Wooyoung turned to the girl, his grip on her wrist loosening.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “Let him check.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t move.

Seonghwa knelt in front of her, pulling out a cloth and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“This will sting,” he warned.

She barely reacted when he dabbed at the wound, gently wiping away the blood. The room remained silent, everyone watching, waiting, holding their breath.

Finally—Seonghwa sighed.

“It’s not a bite.”

Relief crashed over Wooyoung.

“It’s deep,” Seonghwa continued, “but it’s just a scratch.”

The weapons lowered.

The tension lifted.

But Wooyoung wasn’t done.

He turned to the others, his jaw clenched. “Next time, how about you let me talk before trying to kill someone?”

No one met his gaze.

Cowards.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the girl, kneeling beside her.

She was still shaking.

Still scared.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice much gentler now. “You’re safe.”

Her eyes finally met his.

And for the first time—recognition flickered in them.

“…Wooyoung?” she whispered.

His breath caught.

She knew his name.

“You—” His voice faltered. “You know me?”

She swallowed, her breath still uneven. “We… went to the same university.”

A lump formed in his throat.

Memories flashed in his mind.

Late-night study sessions. Stolen glances across the library. The girl he always thought was beautiful.

And then it hit him.

Y/N.

She was Y/N.

The girl he had a crush on.

The girl he had planned to confess to.

And then—the world ended.

Wooyoung let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh.

“What are the chances?”

A small, shaky smile formed on her lips.