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hellfire--cult · 10 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}

Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}

WC: 13.1 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.

Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.

A wolf.

A fox.

A blank face.

A goat.

A clown.

There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him.

He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.

Tonight, his name was Demon.

He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.

Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him.

There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc.

“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.

“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”

The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate.

“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”

The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage.

“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs.

And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.

“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.

The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.

Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.

“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this.

He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past.

Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to.

Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat.

She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.

So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way.

But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.

She was going to be his, no matter the cost.

“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.”

And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness.

The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage.

Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.

You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods.

Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.

Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.

“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize?

“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.

This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned.

And he was more than happy to oblige.

“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.

“She will.”

The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.

“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”

At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through.

He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them.

The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way.

After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.

BANG.

His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.

“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain.

Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done.

One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods.

His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention.

He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips.

“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person?

“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.

“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.

“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t.

So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.

“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood.

“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once.

“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.

He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him.

“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.

“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.

His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.

He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.

SNAP. CRACK.

“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.

“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least.

“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field.

“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less.

The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.

Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.

He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open.

The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.

He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.

“You should come down from the trees.”

A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Your ears are very perceptive.”

“You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them.

“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.

“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.

“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.

“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.

Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.

His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.

He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.

Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.

He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.

He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.

“Caught you.”

Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.

“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.

You.

“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.

Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.

“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his.

“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.

“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.

“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.

“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now.

His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it.

“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes.

You’re free.

Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.

The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor.

You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.

Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.

“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.

Like a small bunny.

“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner.

“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.

“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods.

“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately.

“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”

“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it.

Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.

Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.”

You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand.

His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.

He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone.

His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat.

He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him.

“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”

“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him.

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”

You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.

“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.

“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.

“Wh–”

“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.

He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.

“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.

“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.

“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.

Narratophilia: Sexual arousal to obscene words.

“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it.

He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.

You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.

Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.

Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.

“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.

He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth.

He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight.

You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.

Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.

His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears.

He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.

“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.

He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains.

You were now part of his home.

A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.

His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.

“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.

“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin.

“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further.

“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.

“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.

“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.”

SMACK.

You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.

Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.

Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.

“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.

“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.

“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs.

He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another.

His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.

“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man.

And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.

His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you.

Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion.

“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.

“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.

“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.

“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.

He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him.

He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear.

You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips.

He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting.

“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area.

“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”

He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.

“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.

“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.

“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other.

“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.

He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.

“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.

“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.

Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.

“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again.

“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.

“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.

“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.

You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.

Your new home.

“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.

“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.

“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did.

“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.

“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.

“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.

“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.

“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.

“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”

“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.

“I’m the hunter next year.”

“He’s all yours.”

Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.

Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?

REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.

A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.

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innieandsungielover · 3 months

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A/N: This is my first ever fic that I'm posting on this account, or on skz in general, so I hope you guys like it! My inbox is open, so hit me up ig?

Pairing: Bully-ish!Hyunjin x afab!Reader (enemies to lovers)

18+ minors dni!!!

CW: Unprotected sex, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, fucking in a public area, but no one comes inside!

WC: 3.3k

Love is a fickle thing, it always starts with an infatuation. You constantly think about them, yearn for them, cry for them. Surround yourself with the things they like in hopes of finding something in common.

You never felt you could find this sense of attraction. You watched as people fell in and out of love, but for you, it was just a figment of your imagination.

There was only one time you were close enough to “love” someone, but instead of the feeling of contentment, it was one of hatred. You were infatuated with him, but not in the way that most would be, you could only see the negative, blinded by hatred for the man in front of you.

He was in your art class, while you worked with clay pieces, he worked with watercolors. Everyone was in awe of his work, especially your professor.

There were always subtle tones of love in every one of his paintings. It was his main emotion, his main drive, and it was truly beautiful.

The first time you ever saw one of his paintings was when you accidentally stumbled upon it, it being left in the classroom to dry as he went to go get coffee.

You were working on one of your structures, an entangled face that showed a range of emotions. It was something that you wanted to achieve to show the complexity of the human mind, of emotions, but you ended up getting distracted by his painting.

You stood in front of it for what felt like hours, looking over each brush stroke, each blend of color, it was beautiful. You hadn’t realized you were crying, a few tears wetting your cheek until Hyunjin was in front of you holding out a tissue.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry” you tripped over your words as you took the tissues from his hand, thanking him. “It’s no problem, I’m actually very grateful”

“And why is that?” you asked, dabbing the tissue at your tear ducts.“My work has never brought someone to tears�� he grinned, taking a sip of his iced americano, the condensation of the drink ran down his cup like your tears just moments prior.

“I don’t know how it hasn’t, the way you depict love is truly extraordinary, I’ve yet to see anything like it before. It isn’t even your form of painting, nor the medium, but the way you can feel the emotion pouring through the artist into their art is magnificent”

“Such high praise from the teacher’s pet, what did I do to deserve this?” he chuckled, sitting back at his easel, playing with the brushes in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not the teacher's pet” you glared at him, hating the way your voice stuttered as you spoke out against his accusations. “You most definitely are” he rolled his eyes, causing your eyebrows to furrow, “how else are you affording all your materials while others have much crappier ones? T-E-A-C-H-E-R’S P-E-T” he stated, enunciating every note at the end of his sentence.

You glared at him, not feeling the need to prove yourself against his harmful words. No longer wanting to be belittled, you turned around, the clay that was previously stuck to your hands cracking.

You tried to ignore him, truly, but every time you thought you were no longer going to see his face, there he appeared.

At first, it was at your job, he would come at least three times a day, getting his daily Iced Americano fix.

“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink more than one of these a day?” you asked, it was slower today so you had time to talk to him as he paid.

“Wow, she speaks!” he exclaimed, slowly pulling out his card. “I thought you were taking a vow of silence seeing as every time you don’t even ask me what I want. I thought customer service helps you keep your job?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, my manager said it was okay to ignore dicks, so I think that’s what I’m doing!” you grinned, using your ‘customer service voice’ as he just rolled his eyes at you.

“You would love to see my dick” he whispered, coming closer to the register so only you could hear him.

Through a smile, you muttered, “If it’s anything like your personality, I bet it’s disgusting and nothing special!”

He just tsked at you, walking away as someone had finally entered the little coffee place, coming up to the register to place their order.

The next place was in your own apartment. You had no idea that your roommate, Felix, was close friends with the devil incarnate.

“Why does he have to come over?” you whined, your body clad in overalls and a tank top as you took a bite of the warm brownie that he had made to help bring you to the “dark side”.

As you took another bite, you didn’t realize the chocolate that was oozing out of the fudgy dessert, getting on the corner of your mouth.

“He’s my best friend, plus I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s like so nice to everyone, not to mention isn’t he your type? I do remember you loooove tall guys, people who are into are, and love reading. He checks all of your boxes babe” he giggled, watching as you glared at him, cheeks filled with the brownies he made you.

“That doesn’t forgo him being one of the worst people I’ve ever met like he’s such a fucking asshole” you groaned, taking a sip of milk.

“Hey! That “asshole” happens to be my best friend, so don’t talk about him like that or I’m cutting you off!”

For such a small and kind dude, he sure had a fiery side to him. You simply nodded your head, lowering it in defeat, allowing him to pet it.

He began to coo at you as he stroked your hair back. “Look at you being such a good roommate” he giggled, feeding you more of the brownie, which you happily accepted.

“Now I have to go shower, so if he comes, please open the door for him and make him feel a bit welcome?” Lixie grinned at you, bopping your nose as you nodded your head, not wanting to be a nuisance to your friend.

You scrolled on your phone, your legs hitting the cabinets underneath the counter you were currently situated on before you heard the jingle of the door knob. Before you could even jump down, the door opened itself, Hyunjin in front of it key in hand.

“Felix, I can’t wait to tell you about this–” he cut himself off as he saw you, legs jangling off of the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, brownie in the other.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you a stalker or something?” he groaned, placing his stuff on the couch, only for his hands to cross over his body, trying to prove a point.

“I live here, Felix is my roommate and I’m going back to my room,” you said as kindly as you possibly could, not wanting to upset Lix after he politely asked you not to be a dick.

“I don’t believe it, you want me that bad you made up an entire scheme to try and sleep with me, I mean I know I’m irresistible, but still that’s a new low.”

Before he could continue spewing nonsense, you took his hand dragging it to your room. You opened the door allowing him to look inside. Your bra on the floor, your bed made but a bit crumpled from sitting on it earlier, and pictures of you and your friends littering the walls.

“Is this enough proof for you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side waiting for his response.

Instead, he took your face in the palm of his hand, his thumb first stroking your chin then slowly shifting down to the corner of your lip. He pulled you a bit closer, your eyes roaming his face, and your breath was caught in your throat. You thought he was going to kiss you, he pulled away with a laugh.

“What a loser, you had chocolate all over your face while trying to talk to me. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?” he grinned, placing the thumb that was just rubbing at the corner of your lip into his mouth, savoring the taste.

“You mean nothing to me, so why would I care?” you shrugged, taking your wallet in your hand before slowly moving away from your dorm frame to the entrance of your apartment.

“Tell Felix I’m not going to be back for dinner” With that you left, leaving Hyunjin dumbfounded in the middle of your apartment.

He was just trying to play hard to get, but you were still not getting it. Did you not notice that he went out of his way to go to the coffee shop that was out of his way, only on days you were working? How he spent hours in the classroom with you just to hear what song you were obsessed with that week, it was like you were oblivious to his infatuation with you. You couldn’t be that dumb, could you?

The last and most hated place to see him was the studio. It was your sanctuary, sure your room meant a lot to you, your own private space, but while working on your art, everything was basically white noise.

From the moment you put on your headphones, you are lost in a trance. The only thing on your mind is the piece in front of you and how you could make it better from the last.

You were so immersed in your work, that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had entered the room, working on his own piece.

Almost an hour had passed as the two of you sat working on your respective pieces. What you didn’t notice was that he was on the phone. You could see his lips moving, but you didn’t think much of it, partly because you didn’t care enough, and the other half was because your favorite song was playing and you had forgotten about him.

It wasn’t until your headphones died that you finally heard the words leaving his mouth.

“She’s so fucking cute, but I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I like her yet. Like why else would I go to her coffee shop 3 times a day Felix? And don’t say it’s because I have a coffee addiction, I know that, but I only go there to see her. And fuck, did you see her at Bin’s party, that short skirt I thought I was going to cum right there and then. How difficult is it for her to see that I like her?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

You didn’t even realize that you dropped your bowl of water until he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. Before you could properly react, he quickly hung up the phone, walking towards you.

You didn’t even realize, but you had started to run away, but you had nowhere to hide. You squatted down, trying to shield your body from him, but it only allowed him to come closer to you.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” he asked as he crouched down to meet your height.

You didn’t respond, instead just nodding your head, which caused him to groan. He slowly pulled your hands away from your face, his hand on your chin.

“I like you” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. “Okay?” you responded, your voice quieter than his.

“Let me show you” and with that, he captured your lips with his, pulling your body closer to him. Your lips were working in tandem as he wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands flying to the back of his neck, allowing him to pick you up.

He pulled both of your bodies up, leading you to the closest desk, not allowing the two of you to break your kiss. His tongue licking at the seam of your mouth, begging for an entrance.

You allowed it, your breaths getting heavier as he pushed his cock into the seam of your leggings, the room filled with your whimpers as he pressed deeper into you, allowing you to feel the hardness of him through his jeans.

He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you. “Fuck” you whined as he slowly pulled down your leggings, the cool air causing goosebumps to riddle your legs and arms.

“Look at this pretty little cunt” he whispered, admiring the way your lips pushed against the cotton of your underwear. “Can’t wait to eat it” he grinned, tearing off your underwear causing you to shout.

“Hyunjin what the fuck, I never said you could do that?” but you were cut off by the feeling of his plush lips against your clit, lapping away. Your hands instantaneously grasped his hair, pushing him deeper into you, allowing the only thought on his mind to be your pussy.

You moaned as he continued lapping at it, learning every curve, where you loved being touched. He wanted to understand you, know what made you tick, he wanted to make you his.

He slowly brought his hand up to your cunt, his finger teasing your hole before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Do you like that baby?” he whispered into your cunt, the vibration on your clit causing your eyes to roll back.

“Feels so good” you whimpered as you lowered yourself, your back hitting the table.

He didn’t want to stop until he made you cum in his mouth, he needed to taste you after chasing you for months. He slowly added another finger, thrusting it inside of your soaking hole, his other hand grabbing your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Gonna cum Jinnie” you whimpered, your high being near. As soon as the word Jinnie left your lips, he felt like he was going to cum, the sound of you moaning his name was ringing in his ears and he needed to hear it again and again.

“Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl?”

“Yes, gonna cum for Jinnie” you whimpered, your orgasm taking control of your body, it twitching under the feeling of his fingers continuously thrusting into you, hitting that spongey spot in your repeatedly.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, kissing your lips once again.

You could feel his cock pressing onto your thigh, it protruding through his jeans and all you could think about was making him feel good.

“Want to make you feel good Jinnie” you whined, pulling away from his lips as your hands frantically went to his jeans, pulling them down to try and get access to his cock. There was a slight wet patch on his boxers, which made you whimper.

“Please, need it” you whined, your hands trailing to your cunt, spreading your lips apart to show him how wet you were for him.

“You are going to kill me baby” he grinned, pulling his boxers down, allowing his cock to hit his stomach. Your eyes looked at him in fear when you saw his size. He was long and thick, bigger than everyone you’ve ever been with.

“Don’t tell me you are scared” he chuckled, running the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing your wetness along his tip. You shook your head, trying to prove to him that you weren’t.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow, let me get a condom” But before he could even reach into his jeans to get his wallet, you stopped him. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill, please need to feel all of you Jinnie”

Who was he to say no to your cute pleading face, so he slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you, causing the two of you to moan. You at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and him at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt like you could cum from just his cock resting inside of you.

“Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well, wish we did this before instead of all this bickering, it’s like you were made for me.” he moaned while slowly beginning to thrusting into you, making sure he wasn’t going to fast.

To ensure your comfort, and to get you closer to your high because he knew he wasn’t going to last long, he began playing with your clit. “Jinnie feels so good, you are so deep inside of me” you whimpered.

He took it as a sign to start thrusting into you deeper. Each thrush hits your g-spot perfectly. With the stimulation of his finger on your clit, you couldn’t do it anymore. You started clenching down on him harder and harder.

Your cunt was locking him in and all he could do was groan. The final push was when he moaned directly into your ear. You came all over his cock letting your moans hit his ear. He pulled out of you stroking his cock “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he whined, feeling close.

“I want it in my mouth” you begged and that was all he needed. He slowly lifted your body from the table as you fell to your knees in front of him, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth.

He shoved it deep inside, causing you to deep-throat it, and came straight down your throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner.” he grinned.

“It’s all your fault, you were the bully” you whined, trying to find your leggings to pull over your body since the room had gotten significantly cooler.

“We should get dressed though, we don’t need anyone else to know what we just did” he looked around frantically, a worried look on his face, causing you to laugh.

“You just fucked me on a desk, and now you are scared?”

“Yes, because I had this whole plan of taking you out to dinner, and buying you this really pretty dress I saw that I thought looked perfect for you and everything” he pouted.

He looked adorable like this, and you couldn’t believe it was the same man that made your life a living hell, that was now in front of you causing you to coo at his jutted lip.

“You are so cute” you mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Maybe love starts off different for everyone.

_____

You walked into your apartment, hand in hand. A grin splayed on his face as you fought with him about how drinking iced americanos more than twice a day was crazy, and how his heart was going to stop.

The two of you didn’t even realize that Felix was in your living room until the two of you heard an “I fucking knew it!”

He was whooping and hollering around your apartment. “I knew it was going to start with this enemies-to-lover type shit and then boom y’all are going to fuck”

Before the two of you could even utter a single word, he stopped you by continuing. “Please tell me it wasn’t on our shared couch though, it doesn’t need to be fucked on a second time”

“You what!” you looked at him with fury in your eyes, Hyunjin just laughed at the spectacle playing out in front of him, damn he loved you.

#gia writes!#skz smut #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids smut #straykids x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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cuubism · 3 days

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I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

#brief yet very sappy ending #physical therapy fic #my writing #dreamling

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suzukiblu · 6 months

Text

Day twenty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“Maybe just an outfit or two,” Kon says, blushing furiously in the direction of the mall fountain. Tim considers pressing his luck with jewelry, but figures he can sneak accessories in later. Like, subtly. Or just incredibly blatantly and shamelessly, which is probably likelier to work on Kon anyway. And shoes, while he's at it.

“You did promise me a fashion show,” Tim reminds him. Kon manages to blush darker, but also grins.

“Guess I did,” he says, then wags his eyebrows at him. “Think they'll let us in the changing rooms together?”

Tim's brain instantly self-liquidates and leaks out his ears and ruins his shirt, or at least it really feels like it does.

“I think you can always sneak me in if we have to,” he says with a smirk, using every single drop of his Bat-training to look and sound like a normal person making a lighthearted joke and not a desperately horny five-alarm fire who is suddenly thinking thoughts.

Kon laughs, so apparently it works, thank god.

Tim takes advantage of the granted permission to get Kon to the closest department store and clothes-hunting, which to be honest he's not particularly sure how to do correctly because he mostly shops while thinking things like “how do I make myself look like a normal teenage civilian from Bristol?” and less things like “what would my very attractive teammate who doesn't know how to be a normal teenage civilian from anywhere most like to wear?” He mostly just nods encouragingly while Kon looks at things and helps him pick the right sizes.

Also he tries not to be reduced to a desperately horny five-alarm fire every time Kon asks his opinion about a shirt or whatever and then listens to it.

He has no idea why he's so into the idea of Kon wearing clothes he suggested or picked out, but Jesus, he just really is. Note to self: never let himself pick out Kon's clothes if the team has to go undercover or incognito or anything like that. Outsource that one to Cissie or maybe Cassie, just for the sake of his focus.

. . . actually, maybe not Cassie. Cassie might have similar issues to his current ones, if they let her dress Kon.

. . . . . . then again, if he lets Cassie dress Kon, then he has plausible deniability if Kon ends up in–never mind.

He probably needs to just stop thinking about this, he decides. Though that’d be easier if Kon stopped asking his opinion, probably. Like–just a little.

“What about this?” Kon asks thoughtfully, looking at a mannequin wearing a fitted bright red tank top that’s half mesh and a pair of black leather pants so tight that they could pass for leggings. There are belts. And buckles. And . . . straps.

Tim is pretty sure he’s not going to manage to stop thinking about this.

“If you try that on in front of me, we’re getting banned from this store,” he says frankly, telling himself he’s joking. Kon laughs, so that helps.

Tim is definitely not joking, though.

“Maybe the fire engine red is too obvious,” Kon says, giving him a sly grin and walking past the display. “Gotta stay classy, right? Go a little subtle.”

Tim’s traitor of a brain pictures various takes on Kon dressing up “classy” and he suffers for it. Goddammit.

“We should get you something dressy too, actually,” he says, and Kon looks briefly puzzled.

“What for?” he asks.

“Well, what if I want to take you somewhere with a dress code?” Tim says with a shrug. Kon probably wouldn’t be into, like, live theater or any kind of formal concert or art gallery event or anything like that, but a nicer restaurant or something, at least.

“I don’t think places with dress codes want me there,” Kon says with another laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” Tim says. “I want you there.”

Kon lets out another abrupt laugh, then flees between two of the taller racks as his face reddens again. Tim hopes that’s because he’s flustered, not because he thinks he’s being weird.

He really needs to work on his flirting. He’s kind of just fumbling around mostly-blind here and hoping he hits on something Kon’s into. It’s not like Tim Drake is actually Kon’s type, but if Kon’s just testing the waters with a guy for once, well, he probably wouldn’t care about that anyway. Tim’s still not sure if this is just him experimenting or not. Kon hasn’t said anything about not mentioning all this to anyone, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he wants anyone knowing either.

Kon had looked a little weird when Tim had made that crack about explaining him to his dad earlier, come to think. Being nervous about being mentioned or ID’ed would explain that reaction.

Tim peers into the racks after Kon and finds him with a messy pile of clothes in his arms, doing a very committed job of pretending to be very invested in a table covered in T-shirts with either superhero emblems or cheesy puns on them. Tim has to repress a snort of laughter, but the idea of Kon wearing a “talk nerdy to me” shirt is objectively hilarious. He's pretty sure Kon would sooner eat kryptonite than listen to nerd talk.

“Find anything good?” he asks. Kon grins sheepishly at him.

“Maybe,” he says. “Wanna hit the changing rooms?”

Tim desperately does but also probably should not. However, he also probably shouldn't be a teenage vigilante who lies to his dad about what he does all night and fights random Gotham rogues with an extendable bo staff and obsessive detective work and very little else.

“Sure, yeah,” he says because of the part of him that stalked Batman and counted flips and broke into a memorial for a Robin costume, and then he follows Kon to said changing rooms. Kon beelines right for them, which seems weird because it's not like he's been to this mall before and they definitely didn't pass them, so–“How did you know where they were?”

Kon grins slyly at him, adjusting the pile of clothes in his arms.

“‘Versatile’, remember?” he says. Tim's confused for a second, then realizes–

“Did you check the store layout with TTK?” he asks in bewilderment.

“You kidding?” Kon asks with a laugh. “More like the mall layout.”

“Like . . . right now?” Tim asks, still more bewildered. Kon looks smug.

“They just made a new batch of pretzels back at that pretzel stand,” he says.

. . . Tim needs a moment. Or a lifetime.

“You can just . . . do that?” he asks. “Feel whatever’s going on in your range?”

“Yeah,” Kon says. “Honestly, it's kinda distracting sometimes. Makes it hard to focus, you know? So I try to tune it out when I can, but sometimes it comes in handy on the job when there's, like, a hidden door or something. Though it's easier when I'm just walking around like this, ironically.”

Tim has absolutely no way to explain how useful “can make an accurate map of an entire mall and possibly then some just by standing in it” actually is as a skill, to say nothing of spotting secret doors or hidden safes or concealed assassins or anything like that. If he'd known Kon could do that sooner, he'd have been starting every single mission in an unknown environment by making Kon do that.

Crap, now he has to trick Kon into telling Robin he can do that as soon as possible. Tim has no idea how Kon didn't lead with that trick, though. That is like–that is just–he thinks maybe TTK is just broken. Like, as a power. He thinks Cadmus gave Kon a literal cheat code for life, in fact. If this were a video game, Kon would need to be immediately nerfed or no one would ever play any other character.

Tim despairs for his capacity to ever be normal about this bastard and follows him into one of the bigger changing rooms, resigned to his fate. Kon has no apparent concern for the five-item limit and there isn’t an attendant around to stop them, so he just takes the whole pile of clothes in and dumps it on one half of the bench. Tim’s not sure if he’s leaving the other half free for discards or for him, so–

“Sit back and enjoy the show, man,” Kon says as he flashes him a bright grin before peeling off his sweater, which answers that question pretty quick. Also, nearly evaporates Tim’s sanity. Kon’s literally still wearing his damn suit underneath and it nearly evaporates his sanity; what even is that?

He is in so, so much trouble here, isn’t he.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #long post #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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seonghwaddict · 3 months

Text

ateez fic recs!

🧸 lilo’s notes! here is a collection of works that i loved and thought everyone should read! works marked with a bear emoji are some of my favs. i’ll be updating the list, of course. this list contains both sfw and nsfw content, minors please interact accordingly.

hongjoong

he’s kinda hot — @ohmyamor

“After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have demon who refuses to leave you alone.”

demon!hongjoong, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, please see content warning before reading, suggestive

lilo’s notes! i absolutely love demon!atz aus and i can testify that this is definitely one of my favs. everything about this was absolutely fantastic and i may or may not revisit it every few weeks

you’re hongjoong’s bias — @jnginlov

“when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you”

idol au, fluff, gn!reader

lilo’s notes! listen… idol aus are usually not my cup of tea (though several fics on here prove that wrong), but this is absolutely one of the cutest things i’ve read.

seonghwa

new horizons — @fivestar-outlaw

“Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.”

completed series, FLUFF, idol!hwa x nonidol!fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! EEEEEEE THIS FIC IS SO CUTEEEEEE

🧸 honest (but happy) accident — @ad0rechuu

uni student!hwa, gn!reader, fluff, slice of life

lilo’s notes! y’all are gonna get so sick of me cuz you’re gonna see multiple of zero’s fics on here. jokes aside, this is genuinely so fucking cute i was rolling around and giggling while reading it.

🧸 12:25 time of love — @jaehunnyy

kindergarten teacher!hwa, mom!reader, meet cute, fluff

lilo’s notes! imagining seonghwa in a job like that genuinely makes me so soft. whenever i’m in that Emotional mood i like to read this.

🧸 impressionism — @hwaightme

“a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art?”

vampire!gallerist!hwa x art historian!gn!reader, fluff, soulmates

lilo’s notes! as an art history nerd, this fic is so beautiful especially when combined with a vampire au like AHHHH some of my fav things in one fic

yunho

early hours — @honeyhotteoks

“you run into him in the hallway of the hotel, it's late and you're exhausted from the concert, but he thinks you should grab a drink and you can't help but agree”

idol!yunho x nonidol!fem!reader, one night stand, nsfw, some fluff

lilo’s notes! HDJSJDJSJKF the way this had me glued to my phone and giggling should be studied.

🧸 principia and opticks — @bro-atz

“you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class” // “you and professor jeong yunho decided to continue your relationship secretly, only to almost get caught one day”

professor!yunho x student!reader (legal), nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! don’t judge me but i think professor x student (COLLEGE. LEGAL.) is such a good trope it’s always gonna have me running laps around my room.

bottle service — @bro-atz

“all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.”

big dick!yunho x small!afab!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i have nothing to say for myself other than size kinks are hot. even more so when it’s related to yunho

christmas dinner — @a1sh1teruu

“it didn't just end with one dinner.”

ceo!yunho x secretary!fem!reader, fluff

lilo’s recs! THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ME AGHHHHHHHH i love it so much i think about it at least once a week

🧸 summer nights — @honeyhotteoks

“he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.”

roommate!yunho, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i reread this yesterday and realised there’s a sequel. TRUST i will be devouring that as soon as i can

track 3: cyber sex — @highvern

whipped loser!yunho x camgirl!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! STOPPIJDIDJ yunho was so cute and shy in this i wanted to scream into a pillow

yeosang

🧸 lessons in intimacy — @honeyhotteoks

“you didn’t mean to actually meet the man who’s audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do”

camboy!yeo, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! absolute perfection this was so sjsjjcjsjd i could feel myself slowly losing my mind

evolve — @nebulousbrainsoup

“more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them.”

biker!yeosang x fem!reader, fluff, nsfw, some angst

lilo’s notes! despite it being 12k words i gobbled it up in a single sitting which is crazy tbh, it didn’t feel that long at all and i was so invested

san

🧸 prelude in e minor — @bro-atz

“your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi”

professor!san, CELLIST!san, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! back at it with the professor aus yupppp y’all know me so well. i felt so many emotions while reading this i thought i was gonna go insane.

mingi

🧸 slowly, i’m going down — @yutasbellybuttonpiercing

“mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.”

college au, tutor!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! not only was this written so well, but it was so fucking entertaining. mingi is just so silly in this i love it.

angel eyes — @binniesbang

“Yunho teases Mingi when he trips over his words infront of a girl, he needs a little loving to make it better:((“

coffee shop au, fluff, comfort

lilo’s notes! AHHHHHHHH sobbing crying screaming this was so cute and soft i love this mingi

🧸 untitled — @teasteeper

“kissing practice with your best friend mingi”

best friend!mingj x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! GRRRSGHDJDJD OH MY GOD mingi you ain’t slick at all- anyways, my turn when?

wooyoung

ribbon — @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

“You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.”

daddy!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! they be fucking but somehow it’s so??? cute?? really enjoyed this one 10/10

spiderman! — @cherrysoojins

“being spider-man comes with a lot advantages, but those advantages can have their disadvantages. like jung wooyoung not being able to show up to study groups to be able to see the girl he’s crushing on big-time.”

spiderman!wooyoung, smau + written, fluff, angst, crack. ongoing(?) series, last updated: july 7th, 2023

lilo’s notes! this was actually such a cute and fun fic and i really wished there were more chapters :c

backstage rockin’ — @a1sh1teruu

“after a late night of practice with the band, and with you lounging in the background. when his friends finally left, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer.”

bandmate!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i think this was THE fic that awakened my love for bassists, that’s how good it was. zerda’s writing always has me giggling

jung wooyoung’s superpower — @ad0rechuu

best friend!wooyoung, fluff fluff fluff

lilo’s notes! ik i’ve probably said this a lot but this is ACTUALLY one of the cutest fics i’ve ever read i adore it so much

🧸 i’m just bein’ curious — @teeskz

“in which your friend wooyoung invites you over for a movie night”

pervy best friend!woooyung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! it’s short but if i said this didnt awaken something in me, i’d be lying. i reread it this morning and that’s what made me start this rec list

jongho

🧸 adorable — @i-luvsang

frenemy!jongho, gn!reader one bed trope, fluff, comedy

lilo’s notes! AHHHHH I LOVE RIA’S WRITING SO SO SO MUCH fluff by ria is genuinely so djdjdjsjd it’s got me giggling

untitled — @nateezfics

nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i’m sorry but idc if they’re going at it, it’s so cute and soft?? they’re just so silly

multi

🧸 milky way — @ad0rechuu

“It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…”

fanboys!hwasangi x idol!reader, smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive, slow burn. completed series, 60 chapters + 3 different endings

lilo’s notes! i will never not be grateful that this series exists. it’s funny, cute, and angsty and i absolutely love it with my whole heart. i think it’s one of the first fics i read on tumblr, so it’s really special to me + i think this was part of the reason i got close to my lovely zero

🧸 blurred lines and lies — @yuyusuyu

the synopsis is really long

best friend!yeosang x fem!reader x best friend!jongho, love triangle, romance, slice of life, angst. completed series, 10 chapters + 2 different endings

lilo’s notes! words cannot describe how i felt reading this but i think it’s comparable to going through every stage of grief possible plus more. genuinely, one of the best fics i’ve ever read

strawberry mocha — @pirateprincessblog

“your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage”

barista!camboy!wooyoung x fem!reader, ft yunho, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! my thought process while reading was a cycle of “oh my god” and “what the fuck” in the BEST way possible. the writing is so good i wanted to reach through the screen a smack some characters, and hug some others

clair de lune — @atzfilm

“you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?”

yandere!ot8 x fem!reader, angst, fluff, nsfw. completed series, 8 chapters.

lilo’s notes! so iconic. if you haven’t read this, you better and that’s a threat.

murphy’s law — @atzfilm

“according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.”

alien!ot8, multi x fem!reader (not ot8), soulmate au, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. completed series, 5 chapters.

lilo’s notes! another iconic fic by an iconic writer, we love to see it

mists of celeste — @hongism

“Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.”

space pirate!ateez, multiple pairings, angst, fluff, nsfw, check other warnings. ongoing series, 49 chapters + additional content

lilo’s notes! i’m pretty sure everyone on tumblr who reads atz fics has seen this one at some point and it definitely deserves its hype. this is probably one of the best, well thought-out fics i’ve ever read and i believe it can definitely be considered better than many published books

🧸 hotel california and paradise gardens — @mint-yooxgi

“You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.” // “Eternity means nothing if I don’t have you.”

yandere!demon!ot8 x fem!reader, horror, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. complete fic, 42 chapters combined

lilo’s notes! yeah i reread this every few months and i’m not ashamed to admit i’m obsessed with it.

outlaw miniseries — @hongism

individual parts for each member/unit, nsfw with a side of fluff and angst. ongoing series, 4/6 chapters

lilo’s notes! hi no i won’t shut up about hongism i think ive read everything she’s published and if i didn’t want to make this list diverse i would’ve just put a link to her masterlist and called it a day. seriously, highly recommended. my fav on this is the 2ho one.

from storm to sunrise — @ad0rechuu

“you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found”

fem!reader x bfs!yuyu and mingi, fluff, mild angst

lilo’s notes! zero try not to write something i’ll fall in love challenge, go! oh no you already failed because everything by user ad0rechuu is a masterpiece

🧸 hooked — @songmingisthighs

“A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your ‘relationship’ led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you?”

ot8 x fem!reader, smau + written, college au, fluff, crack, nsfw. completed series, 91 chapters

lilo’s notes! this is also one of the first fics i read on tumblr!! it’s definitely one of my all-time favs and it’s just such a fun read

🧸 unconventional first encounters with ateez — @bluehwale

ot8 headcanon, fluff, humour

lilo’s notes! i also reread this occasionally, the humour tag really is accurate

hongwooho — @yourfatherlucifer

idols!hongjoong, wooyoung, jongho x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! the first time i read this (and all the times after that) i was giggling and rolling around on my bed. this kind if scenario is something i’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to see more of

sway with me — @luvt0kki

“former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home… and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet. // but he hasn’t met one person of the crew… and he didn’t know that.”

ot8 x fem!reader, space pirate au, nsfw, fluff. ongoing series, 5/?? chapters + 1 interlude

lilo’s notes! i gobbled the posted chapters up in a single sitting and it was honestly sososo good 10/10 recommend. i can definitely see this being added to my favs as soon as it’s done!

🧸 ¡arriba! — @teeskz

“being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.”

hongjoong, yunho, san, mingi, wooyoung x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, part of a series (“T!TS UP”)

lilo’s notes! NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND I WAS GAGGEDDDDDD the way i had to pause multiple times to cool off while reading this it was so hot and something i didn’t know i needed in my life until i found it

#ꔫ — › LILO’S REC LIST

371 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 10 months

Note

Pls pls make an ot13 fic wherein the reader is an actress and an idol at the same time and she get paired with svt and they have a kissing scene or an intimate one. without anyone knowing, theyre daiting and the amount of teasing the members eill receive??? Just like juns recent drama

members teasing each other because of an intimate scene in a drama | ot13

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGCHEOL

He’d try to pull the leader card, but it would NOT work, whatsoever. The teasing he’d get from Mingyu would be ASTRONOMICAL (he’d waited his entire life for that). It would also be Chan’s villain origin story, because that would be the perfect opportunity to take revenge for all those years the teasing (you can practically hear him laughing maniacally in the distance).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEONGHAN

I feel like it could go two ways. He’d either be like: “you guys stoooop” (shy bean) or “I know, that kiss was hot, right?” (wink wink). Even though they would definitely tease him, he wouldn’t care that much. At least he gets all the edits and thirst traps now.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JOSHUA

They would give him a bottle of water with a label “holy water” and run off. But in the end, despite all the teasing, Joshua would not be bothered. He has better things to do (read: sing “Sunday morning” while crying over his cringy kissing scenes).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JUN

Well, looking at what is going on right now, we can tell that he gets some amount of teasing, but a lot of praise too. I think generally with Jun, they are proud of him for pursuing acting and showing his talent in something other than singing and dancing. Still, I feel like he kind of hibernated for the first 48h after the release, to avoid the clowning of the members (but he has seen the memes).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOSHI

Villain origin story, part two: Mingyu edition. It would be his time to take revenge for all the mafia games AND HE WOULD NOT HOLD BACK. That man would follow Soonyoung everywhere and just clown him MASSIVELY. Soonyoung would have to lock himself in his house to avoid Mingyu and even then, the younger would spam him with messages.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WOOZI

At first they wouldn’t dare to tease him. They would be afraid that he’d close off after coming out of his comfort zone and starting in a drama. Jihoon’d be actually ready for the teasing, so when it never came, he’d be like ???. That’s when they’d release all their inner jokes about the drama and his performance (especially the steamy scenes). He would laugh with them and not mind the teasing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WONWOO

He’d take it all like a champion. Nothing can break Jeon Wonwoo. Except for when he’d be alone. Then he’d turn into a babygirl and be like:🥺🫶, guys can you stop, please? But he would never tell that to their faces. Because he’s Jeon Wonwoo. 💪🏼.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DK

They would not tease him. Period. Instead of teasing it would be all love and praise. They would practically be shitting hearts and rainbows, because of how proud they are of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGYU

Thank god they aren’t living together anymore, because he’d HAVE to move out then. The group chat would be on fire after the first episode and the next day at work would be hell on earth for him. Some of the boys would take their time to learn some of the lines that they found particularly cringy and clown him with them. They'd also make kissy noises at him. He’d start to think about debuting as a solo artist.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGHAO

There would be no point in teasing Minghao. Would not care. Would not find the teasing amusing. Would probably turn the whole situation around and make fun of the boys instead. It’s all for the art baby.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGKWAN

The moment any of the members would even open their mouth to breath, he’d yell and walk out of the room. After a second though, he’d reappear and start explaining how it is all in the name of art and what it means to be a real actor (it'd turn out that Jeonghan only wanted to ask what they wanted for dinner).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ VERNON

I feel like the members wouldn’t actually tease him THAT much. They’d be proud of him for doing something out of his comfort zone and trying something new. Yeah, surely there would be some teasing, but it’d more like love and praise 🥰 >>>>> teasing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DINO

He. Does. Not. Care. Come on, after that many years of being teased and “bullied”, he would not give a single fuck. They’d try to make fun of him, but quickly give up, as they'd realise it didn’t faze their youngest, whatsoever. Chan would enjoy all the tiktoks and memes though.

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magua-vida · 29 days

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SLAY THE QUEEN THORN

I was inspired by Abby's sketch of a hypothetical Queen version of the Princess, so I tried my hand at it with a few vessels, including this one. I... ended up drawing something akin to a fashion design concept art rather than a practical design that won't be tiring to draw over and over after a handful of sprites later. I also had to use a bit more artistic license growing unnatural poppies on the dress and the thick twirly prickly noodles.

some explanations behind the process

For the "mended" Thorn, I pretty much just removed the foreground thorns and added the dirt.

rambling/fangirling/screenshots below:

The Thorn is one of my favorites. If I had to choose only five vessels to offer to Shifty and there's no replayable feature, she'll definitely be one of them. I'm one of those suckers who's into Hurt/Comfort stories. Almost like a masochist for those fics, you could say. If the climax to an Action-heavy story is the defeat of one party, then the catharsis of Hurt/Comfort is when the two characters... well, comfort each other- either due to hurt from each other or someone else. In The Thorn's case, she started off rather innocently, Damsel-like, but not quite. She still had caution. It was until she was literally stabbed in the back that she learned that it was a mistake. And when Long Quiet offered sincere regret and admission of fault, she stabbed him... but she didn't feel the relief she thought she'd get from it. I think many relate to having been betrayed and/or betraying someone they trusted, and the scratches are felt by many players.

The thorns curve inward, as if it's more painful to leave her than it is to approach her.

Poppies grow around along the bramble. Many mistook them for roses because they're red and there are brambles (tbh, I actually dunno if they're brambles or briars, I looked them up and I got confused, forgive me, plant enthusiasts ;.;) that grow around the patches of those poppies. Death and romance~

This brings back to Chapter 1 where Hero was kinda-sorta-maybe-definitely crushing on the Princess and wants to give her the benefit of the doubt, not only because of feelings, but for a reasonable cause of wanting to rescue someone who possibly may actually be a victim of circumstance.

Look, I have reasons why Thorn route is one of my favorites and it definitely doesn't have anything to do with both characters having massive trust issues and the capability to change themselves for better or worse and the emotional moments hitting me like a lovely diamond-dusted dagger. Both of them are rather cat-like with pointy ears too.

I appreciate that you're still given the options to leave or stab Thorn, as if the situation isn't pitiable enough. Even her tiara looks like a crown of thorns. It's as if she views the thorns as both a form of penance and a defence mechanism to protect herself from being hurt again, even though she's hurt by her own making this time.

I chose for the Long Quiet to save her and leave the cabin together.

This part stabbed me the most. Even when shown genuine help, she shrinks back.

This part burns a bit of the jadedness away. Trust is a scary thing, so is love. How can you be so sure that you won't be hurt by the one you love again? But just like what The Prisoner says, it's about trust- blind trust. Thorn looks more human than her previous self- less animalistic, softer. A part of The Damsel returns, even in the music.

I recall weighing on whether I prefer the version with the Voice of the Cheated or Voice of the Smitten. I vaguely remember wondering if there was an option to ask her if it's okay to kiss her. I guess the ideal would be is to have that choice, but I suppose the climactic moment calls for it and she doesn't mind it, at least. It's like the option to hug Astarion from BG3, but you're not sure whether he'd be comfy with it after being hurt so much. He gave approval for it too~

As much as Thorn is one of my favorites, I'm not attracted to her and any of the vessels. Instead, I ship her with the Long Quiet- the character himself. I don't really see myself AS the Long Quiet, more like choosing what actions on what he does and I separate myself from him a lot for many reasons. It's a bit like the Harry situation from Disco Elysium in terms of seemingly blank-slate protagonists.

Instead, I kinda put myself into her situation to feel how she felt in this route. The poppies not only felt symbolic of her nature as part of the Shifting Mound, but also specifically the end of the mutual treachery you've inflicted on each other, potentially beginning anew on a path of healing.

==============ramble-bramble over===================

#black tabby games #slay the queen #slay the princess #the thorn #stp the thorn #surprise astarion from bg3 #blood

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steddieficrec · 2 months

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do u have any recs for fics where eddie accidently comes out to steve or steve accidently finds out and eddie panic’s thinking steve is gonna hate him but steve obvs doesnt

This took forever I know! But I wanted to actually make a list and ended up finding new ones that I love and some re-reads. I hope you enjoy it.

Pretty, Pretty Boys by starsdontsleep

(1/1 I 4,097 I Teen)

Steve knows that Eddie is gay, what he doesn't expect is to hear so many details about the guys that the metalhead has hooked up with or is interested in approaching. He also doesn't expect to feel so bothered—so annoyed and uncomfortable about it.

Or, 5 times Steve was unhappy about Eddie being with or talking about another guy. 1 time Eddie was unhappy about Steve doing the same (but didn’t need to be).

Questions & Answers by starsdontsleep

(1/1 I 6,781 I Mature)

Steve doesn’t have a problem with Eddie being gay, but he does have questions which end up leading to practical demonstrations.

smoking guns (hot to the touch) by fivecenturiesverse

(1/1 I 7,590 I Teen)

Sure, they've saved the world, but the best part of that really is that it doesn't end there and in a town where everyone thinks he murdered a girl, he's at least got Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. It's really not his fault he accidentally starts living at Steve's house, he was invited, after all. There's a mystery too, about Barbara Holland and Steve's pool.

“Your boner is digging into me,” says Robin, and Steve snorts a tired sort of laugh. “I don’t have a —” “You do, I can feel it. Gross.” “Okay, but it’s only a little one,” he says in a small voice which sounds like he’s impersonating someone. “Are you ever going to let that go? I peed a little bit when the Russians got the torture devices out, okay?” She sounds amused, though. Eddie jolts. “Russian torture devices?” Robin carries on like she didn’t hear him but Steve catches his eye and he’s grinning. “How do you even have a boner dude? You were definitely having a nightmare I know your twitching means a nightmare… Did you have a boner over Vecna?”

Dirty Words by morningberries

(1/1 I 10,207 I Explicit)

Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by gr0gu

(4/4 I 16,996 I Teen)

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Steve was supposed to work with Robin at the Family Video, flirt with the many many girls who came to browse the expansive selection of VHSes, go on some dates, and hopefully find The One.

It was supposed to be a notably upside-down free year.

And, hey, for what it's worth? He wasn't supposed to be pinned down on a mattress by Eddie Munson either.

And he certainly wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.

But that's getting a bit ahead of things

The Worst Mixtape Ever Made by nbfutureboy

(10/10 I 17,999 I Mature)

“It’s a gift, so you gotta listen to the whole thing, okay? I think-- I think it’s got what it takes.”

There’s an art to making a mixtape - and Steve Harrington has decidedly ignored all semblance of art in creating a mixtape for Eddie Munson. Too bad Eddie’s fascinated with how impressively terrible his song choices are.

took you for a working boy by pukner

(6/6 I 46,823 I Mature)

"Do you--Harrington, do you know other gay people?" "One," Steve says, and then, after a moment, "and a half." "And a half?" Eddie boggles at him, "What does that mean?" "He's figuring it out!" says Steve, defensively, "Taking his time, y'know? Whatever, the point is. It's cool you're gay, man."

Eddie comes out to Steve, and Steve's heartbroken about it for some reason. Eddie thinks Steve's dating Robin. Everyone else thinks Steve and Eddie have been dating this whole time. Robin doesn't get paid enough for this shit.

Also, Hawkins has been cracked open like a badly-baked cake, and everyone's settled into the most mundane apocalypse possible. Eddie Munson starts a radio programme about it.

Meanwhile, Steve gets his nails painted, and outsources a crisis he isn't having.

start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket

(10/10 I 85,554 I Explicit)

Eddie Munson died on March 27th, 1986.

This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

No, wait. That’s not right. That’s Hitchhiker's Guide. Or was it Restaurant at the End of the Universe? Whatever, not important.

Eddie Munson died on March 27th, 1986.

Except…he didn’t. He couldn’t have. Because Eddie Munson is currently arguing with himself in his fucking head about sci-fi quotes, which doesn’t feel especially like something that a dead person would have the capacity to do.

The bats had killed him. There had been pain, and the sick sensation of tearing flesh. He’d had to swallow past a mouthful of his own blood to tell Henderson he loved him. Surely those were symptoms of imminent death.

And yet.

On April 1st, 1986, Eddie Munson opens his eyes in a dim hospital room. There’s a gasp from his left, and he tries to turn his head towards the source.

“Easy there, kid. They’ve got you trussed up pretty good.”

Eddie doesn’t need to see him. He’d know that voice anywhere, in any universe, hell dimension or otherwise.

“Uncle Wayne?”

A story about the families we find and the love that finds us.

Steady as He Goes by StrangerThings1975

(14/14 I 86,759 I Explicit)

Steve and Eddie are under the misconception that they dislike each other.

#stranger things #steddie #fic recs #steddie fic #coming out

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shadesoflsk · 3 months

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Okay but imagine Leon having a hispanic/latino s/o? Like him being introduced to their family at parties and having to memorize all the cousins, him falling in love with all the aspects of their culture. Also i feel like he would love gustavo cerati???? Coming from a latina (boricua y dominicana) this has me kicking my feet and giggling!! Ly 💗!! - 🐚

Hi! This is the first time someone claimed an emoji! I feel so excited, hehe.

And I just noticed I often reply to these asks with just my thoughts not knowing if any of you want a whole fic 😭 If you want one let me know ‘cause I'm dense.

Regarding Gustavo Cerati… you're so real 🐚 anon. In fact, I'm preparing a post which is basically hispanic music I think Leon would like. And let me tell you, there are A LOT OF Cerati's songs. If you guys want to share your thoughts/suggest some artists or songs you're welcome to do so. 🙏🏻

Anyway, I could definitely see Leon being overjoyed dating someone hispanic/latino.

The term itself is really broad, so I'm going to leave the details of the culture as ambiguous as I can so everyone can imagine their own.

leon kennedy x gn reader (reader speaks spanish)

Leon himself isn't someone who actually got to spend his childhood and younger years next to a family, or at least a loving one. So, when he met you, he slowly discovered your upbringing and how beautiful your culture was.

It started with little things. When you first mentioned Leon where you come from, he'd search for one thing he really enjoys—music! He fully believes art is the door to a culture, so there's nothing better than getting to know your country by its artists and songs.

He'd need to translate them, though. He barely knows how to say hello in another language. But then again, he tries his best to actually engage in your culture and show genuine interest.

While he navigates through the songs, typical dances, and festivities, the next step is obvious. As your relationship gets more serious, you'd tell him that your family wants to meet him. He isn't scared, not all. He's actually really excited at the prospect of meeting your relatives and taking such a serious step with you.

However, he is nervous about something.You had previously told him that your family was big, and while it didn't bother him, he isn't confident about his ability to remember names.

Poor boy would be the target of your family's teasing. As soon as he enters your home, some of your relatives would give him a pat on his back, seeing how nervous he is. The whole experience would be overwhelming but in a good way.

You'd introduce him to every family member. He'd say his name as best as he could (He asked you to teach him a bit of Spanish, to at least impress some of your relatives).

Very basic and broken Spanish: “Hola yo me llamo Leon, ¿Cómo estás tú?” Baby is trying his best, and everyone could see how much respect he holds for their culture and language.

He's really respectful in every aspect you could think of. When the little mingling comes to an end and hunger starts to brim in each one of your relatives, Leon would be delighted to try everything.

As soon as he starts eating, there are two outcomes. A) He really likes the food. B) He doesn't like it. For the first scenario, he'd devour the plate. Having something prepared with so much seasoning and love was something foreign to him. He'd whisper and ask you to tell your mom if he could fetch himself another serving. He's too shy for his own good.

For the latter, he'd still remain as respectful as he could. It's okay not to like certain things, and while he tries to finish his plate your family would joke about how he couldn’t handle the spice (even if it wasn't spicy in the first place.)

His favorite activity to do with your family is to see your childhood photo album. They would pull out embarrassing photos of yourself, but he'd think you look lovely. In moments like these, he gets to bond with your family even more, feeling himself blending with them and being part of a family he always longed for.

Overall, Leon would find himself falling in love with you and your culture. No matter how different it's from his own upbringing, he'd be honored to share moments getting to know everything about your country.

#I imagine re2r leon for this one #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #resident evil #— ࣪ ⊹ 💌 ruby's askbox #: ･。. 🐚 anon

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golby-moon · 3 months

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made a thing for the @destieldtiyschallenge secret valentine challenge that @sheepstiel set up (I guess, based on how other people are submitting these). I recreated @impmakesart's art piece from a bang fic, featuring Dean and Cas stargazing on the Impala (seen below)

(added a copy of the original here since there are three art things there and I only did the one. also for easier comparisons and idk I don't think this is against the rules)

and here's the redraw

I think I only drew the Impala one other time and that one was awful so I am kinda glad this one actually looks like a car even if that's only because I forced myself to actually use a reference. I also think I found the same reference the original artist used which was kind of a weird feeling. tried something new with the trees and I like how those came out at least. didn't even try making actual constellations or anything so don't look at those too closely uh

this whole challenge was definitely a learning experience at least and it was fun to recreate something someone else made, hope the gift isn't too disappointing. also I know the original doesn't have an outline around stuff but the car just blended in with the background too much so I added it

(in case it wasn't obvious I have no idea what I'm doing. I tried to format this like the other posts but nah I always talk in my posts and I wanted both images in there so I just did this instead)

(02/26/24)

#my art #supernatural #spn #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #my prompts #my redraws #dtiys #destieldtiys2024 #destiel dtiys #my gifts #idk what to tag this #my sad attempt at drawing the Impala

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jnnul · 11 days

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the right side of wrong. (part one)

TAGS ▸ violence (fighting, blood, general superhero warnings), warnings vary per chapter, uhh like trauma but it's not gone into super deeply, lots of mentions of isolation and manipulation, young justice au!, nightwing!sunghoon, there is a vision here of sunghoon as nightwing and i want everyone to have it as well, superhero au

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 11.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i’ve fallen back into my superhero phase (which i’m always in, who am i kidding?) and everyone needs to understand my love for the found family + superhero trope. extremely self-indulgent and shamelessly fun to write! it’s a little different from what i usually write (college aus) so hopefully i do it justice (haha get it). part one out of eight-ish parts! quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 17, 20XX 6:32 p.m.]

[???]

ALL Y/N ARDOR FAUST CAN SEE IS ABSOLUTE DARKNESS. at first, she panics, grasping at air as she falls into despair when she realizes that she cannot manage to actually latch onto anything. no matter how much she tries to feel around for something - anything - she fails to do so, instead only managing to lose her balance in the nothingness. she knew that this would happen when she first devised her plan but she hadn’t known just how frightening it would be to escape.

escape. is that really what she was doing? or was she just painting the target on her back even larger? did it even matter anymore? if she couldn’t leave this place, she might as well give up. after all, once they found her, it didn’t really matter whether she would have escaped or not. no one would live to tell the story of the girl who escaped a prison with no exits.

she vaguely registers that someone is screaming and she wants to tell them to stop, that they were blowing her cover and that she definitely wouldn’t be able to escape if they kept screaming. it was too loud. too loud!

only when her vision clears does she realize that the person who had been screaming had been herself.

[march 12, 20XX, 4:19 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon park shifts uncomfortably as he watches black canary wipe superboy off of his feet. jay grunts as his body meets the ground, the sensors in the training ground floor sounding out a resoundingly depressing “SUPERBOY - LOSS” that echoes throughout the training chamber. even after three months of training, it seemed like none of them could really beat black canary when it came to martial arts.

and sunghoon was trained by batman, so that really meant something. canary and him were tied (32 - 32) and he had a feeling that wouldn’t change any time soon.

“nightwing? you want to run roll next?” canary asks, eyebrow cocked in challenge. sunghoon smiles, adjusting his mask before he steps onto the training ground, the sensors announcing “NIGHTWING - BLACK CANARY” as soon as he does.

“why? taking out our heavy hitter wasn’t enough?” sunghoon asks and canary scoffs as she hunches into a fighting stance, ready to pounce the moment he gave her a chance to do so.

“hey! i was distracted,” jay exclaims, thanking miss martian slightly when she offers him an ice pack. sunghoon doesn’t have the heart to remind her that jay was half-kryptonian and that ice packs didn’t really help him in healing as much as she thought they did but he doubted it would make much of a difference. soojin was just about head over heels in love with jay and vice versa - she could offer him kryptonite to heal him and jay would accept it happily because his loving girlfriend gave it to him. or something like that, at least.

“just like nightwing is,” canary says before lunging forward, slicing at sunghoon’s head before shifting her position to aim for his knee instead. sunghoon launches backwards before he even realizes what had happened.

“nightwing has also been training in mma since he was in diapers, practically,” kid flash, aka jake sim (aka one of sunghoon’s oldest and best friends), points out. even sunghoon’s body on autopilot, maneuvering and ducking out of black canary’s well placed traps, was a lethal force but sunghoon had no intentions of breaking the tie in canary’s favor.

“technically, superboy’s only five years old,” soojin points out and jake grimaces underneath his mask.

“do you want me to point out the moral flaws in you dating a technical five year old? even if he’s biologically 21?” jake asks and soojin lifts her arms in understanding.

“point taken.”

“glad to see that martians don’t take well to that either.”

“i don’t really think that anyone does, kid.”

“now that we’ve established that everyone in the milky way has the same moral compass, you gonna spar with me or what, nightwing?” canary says, smiling cattily (oh, the irony) before sweeping at sunghoon’s leg, grunting when he leaps gracefully.

“you’re right, canary. hate to keep you on your toes,” sunghoon says. and with that, he successfully is able to grab her left arm, catching her off balance and causing her to try to twist her body to keep from falling but sunghoon is too fast. he lets go of her before she can find something to latch onto, and canary fails to knock sunghoon off his feet before gravity wins out.

she falls to the ground in a somehow still graceful manner, the mat below them reading “NIGHTWING - WIN” as sunghoon helps her get back on her feet.

“you know i’m going to tie that score up again, right?” canary says, cocking her head to where the scoreboard (only the two of them had a score; nobody else really needed one against canary) now read 33 - 32 in nightwing’s favor.

“counting on it. it’s the prestige of the league and the team at hand, after all,” sunghoon laughs and canary flashes him a mildly amused smile before straightening up once more.

“i know that it’s not the justice league’s jurisdiction to comment on the team’s inner workings anymore but some of the leaguers have expressed a little concern at the fact that the team is not accepting new members at this time - especially considering the fact that there are heroes like blue beetle or bumblebee who have made a considerable impact without compromising their identities in team fashion.” black canary sighs, running a hand through her blond hair before shaking her head. “but it’s not the league’s responsibility to propose additions to the team - it’s yours. specifically, nightwing’s.”

sunghoon exchanges a look with jake before shrugging. “i can appreciate the league’s trust in the team and the…forward thinking to increase our numbers. but we’ve decided that we’re not going to even consider additions to the team unless we’re all here to decide together.”

“yeah. unless aqualad and artemis are here, we’re not really jumping at the chance to make any big decisions,” jake echoes, and sunghoon sees jay shrug when soojin nods.

“i figured as much but aqualad and artemis have been in action for a while. the decision is yours but it’s hard to operate a team when 1/3 of it is currently unavailable,” canary says.

“i think you’ll find that we’re more than capable of holding our own,” jake says, arms crossed against his chest. he’s about to say something else but a look from sunghoon calms him down and just shrugs when jay looks at him.

“i don’t doubt it. but it’s just a suggestion from our own experience,” canary says, leaning over to pick up her previously discarded jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders.

“thanks. we’ll keep it in mind.” there’s no room for questioning in sunghoon’s voice in the way that he speaks but black canary appreciates the formality he carries nonetheless.

“alright. well. it’s up to you guys. i’m headed out but let me know if any of you need anything.” with that, canary bids the team goodbye, using the zeta tube to teleport out of the cave (where the team practiced and a few members of the team lived). in the next second after black canary has left, soojin uses her telepathic powers to establish a mind link between the four of them in the room, ensuring that they could all communicate via mere thoughts.

how much do you want to bet she’s going to go relay that to the justice league? jake says telepathically, eyebrows raised.

as much as you’re willing to bet that they don’t actually want us to replace members. they just want to know about what aqualad and artemis are up to, soojin retorts.

and as much as i’m willing to bet that that little black bat behind sunghoon is a bug placed by canary on batman’s orders, jay snorts, looking determinedly to the right of where sunghoon was standing.

don’t give it away, superboy. we know that they’ve bugged us and they’ll know soon enough too but let’s take the lead that we can for now. sunghoon sighs, stretching as he gathers his duffel bag with more comfortable clothes than his suit to change into.

“i’m gonna hit the showers,” he announces out loud.

“yeah, i’m not exactly feeling like i’m doing so hot the fragrance department right now,” jake says without missing a beat.

“alright, well i’m gonna go bake cookies if you wanna meet in the kitchens in a bit,” soojin says, getting up. jay rolls shoulder carefully, grinning when he finds that it doesn’t sting when he does so.

“cool. i’ll follow the crowd and take a shower too and we’ll meet you when we don’t smell like the inside of a middle school gym,” jay says, grimacing when he catches a whiff of jake’s training (which he had changed out of about 3.2 seconds after his defeat to black canary) gear.

the three boys part ways with their friend (and in one case, girlfriend) to hit the showers. soojin turns on the mental link once more once they're out of earshot.

how far are they getting, anyway? the old bat’s not gonna be in the dark about what’s happening in his own city for very long, jake says telepathically and sunghoon sighs, turning on the hot water once they reach the showers.

i’m not sure. i last heard from aqualad two days ago but i haven’t heard from yujin in over a week.

a WEEK? sunghoon winces when he hears jake’s incredulous voice echoing in his head. YOU HAVEN’T HEARD FROM MY GIRLFRIEND IN A WEEK?

it might be my super hearing but was that loud for everyone else too? jay asks, rather innocently.

yes, jay. i don’t think that’s how it works though, sweetheart. but jake’s right, sunghoon. you haven’t heard from artemis in a week? soojin asks from wherever she is in the den.

sunghoon shuts off the water, tousling his freshly washed hair as he steps out of the showers, contemplating how much to share with the rest of the team.

well. i’ve heard from heeseung about yujin but she herself hasn’t checked in lately. but remember, we knew that she was going to go no comms. jake, you knew that she was going to have to go under the radar from us too when they got closer to the objective.

jake doesn’t say anything, physically brushing past sunghoon to get to his own room down the hall from him.

i really hope so, sunghoon. i really hope that your objective is worth it.

[march 17, 20XX, 10:51 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“you shouldn’t be out in this part of the city this late at night,” ardor hears a voice say from behind her. she looks over her shoulder to see who was talking to her, and the person takes a step back, gasping when they make eye contact with her.

ardor was hunched over on the ground in mouth of a frighteningly dark alleyway, shivering and teeth chattering. her hair was a complete mess, her arms covered in bruises, and she was holding herself protectively.

“hey, you alright?” the person knelt next to ardor and she couldn’t help but to inch away from this new person, hands gaining new injuries from making contact with the unforgiving gravel of the alleyway.

the other person raises her hands, almost as though she were trying to prove that she wasn’t a threat to ardor, who eyes her suspiciously as she wraps her arms around her knees.

“i promise i don’t have any bad intentions, but are you alright? i think that we should get inside before it hits midnight, and maybe you can tell me what happened to you?” the woman says and ardor stares at the stranger’s helping hand before slowly reaching out her own bloodied hand, only to be interrupted by a loud crash from behind the stranger.

“well, well. if isn’t two little girls on the wrong side of town, standing too close to the bank for their own safety.” the stranger grimaces as she turns around, coming face to face with the big pain in the ass himself, icicle sr.

“icicle, don’t you have better things to do than to terrorize gotham? like, i don’t know, spending quality time with your family? trying out a new hobby? when was the last time you picked up a book, huh?” the stranger says with a sigh, and while her tone is still lighthearted, ardor sees the stranger slowly shift into a more defensive stance, moving so that she was shielding ardor from their unwanted visitor.

“artemis, one of these days, that smart mouth is gonna land you somewhere you don’t wanna be,” icicle sr. growls, cracking his neck as he adopts a more offensive stance. ardor is silent all the while, more fixated on the blur of motion behind the big lump of human shaped ice than the ice itself.

“artemis, look out!” ardor yells. no sooner do the words leave her mouth does the blur of motion come to a halt in front of artemis, jabbing at her side. but artemis is quick, sidestepping the affront and pulling a bow and arrow out of seemingly nowhere.

the rest of the goons that were in the car suspiciously parked outside of the bank also start descending on artemis, ardor seemingly cast side for the moment. she tries to pull herself to her feet but the injuries from the impact that she had taken on her legs when she tumbled into gotham were still tender enough so that she couldn’t move too quickly.

ardor hunches over herself, looking down, only to see her foot completely twisted, facing the wrong direction.

she grimaces but tries to pull herself up regardless, a strange fire lit in her eyes. she reaches down and takes a deep breath before snapping her foot back into place, unable to keep the scream that escapes her throat inside.

“FUCK!” she screams, and this moment is the moment that changes y/n ardor faust’s fate forever. because no sooner does she yell this, a series of things happen in seemingly slow motion.

first is that a pack of icicle sr.’s goons descend upon artemis and ardor in quick succession. the second is that artemis is quickly overwhelmed by the seven people that seemed to have manifested out of thin air - likely other, smaller goons that had been drawn to the areas like moths to a light after hearing ardor scream. the third thing is that ardor is forced to protect herself from icicle sr. himself.

“normally i’d go for the blondie but risk assessment tells me that i should take the wimp out first,” he says, cracking his knuckles. his cronies fall back a little bit, letting their ‘macho leader’ take on the injured girl himself. she supposed that he probably always took the first punch when it came to new victims. he fit the personality type of a secretly impotent man trying to secure his place in society by victimizing those around him anyway.

“alright,” ardor says. “well then, i hope this doesn’t hurt too much!”

and with that, a column of fire leaps out of her palms and straight into icicle sr.’s chest, propelling him backwards. he flies so far back that he crumples into the van that he’d arrived in, about twenty feet away.

for a moment, ardor panics, fearing that she may have accidentally killed him (she hadn’t used her powers for the past year and a half, and that meant that she was seriously out of practice). but she hears him groan and twitch, his cronies looking between her and his form against the car (which had made a serious dent on the passenger side).

“what? want me to turn up the heat on you guys too?” she snarls, a little fireball dancing on the palm of her hand.

artemis looks back to see ardor launch the fireball in the direction of the mob that had descended upon them, watching them scatter like roaches from the light of her flame, the goons piling into cars or leaping on buildings’ fire escapes to leave the scene.

artemis turns to ardor dumbfounded, to which ardor can only smile ruefully. “don’t worry - it’s cold fire. it doesn’t burn but it leaves a pretty nasty feeling. kinda like being submerged into a bucketful of icy water.”

“couldn’t you have done that before?” artemis says, shaking her head. ardor blinks at her owlishly before tilting her head.

“um, i’ve never actually trained in combat with real people before so…” ardor says. “kinda didn’t wanna accidentally - maybe - really, hurt someone.”

artemis rolls her shoulder, where she’d shoulder-butted someone in an attempt to get them off of her. it worked, but her shoulder had to suffer for it.

this girl had pyrokinetic powers, knew how to use them, but had never engaged in combat? it was practically impossible to think that someone who was this well-versed in their powers could exist on earth without batman knowing about them. and artemis knew for a fact that batman didn’t know about this girl because if batman knew, nightwing knew. and if he knew, and this girl was from gotham, then artemis definitely knew.

which meant that this girl was not on anyone’s radar. that usually was not a good thing.

“what’s your name?” artemis asks after a beat of silence.

ardor thinks for a moment. “ardor.”

she didn’t know who this artemis kid was - although she was pretty sure that she was one of the good guys if someone robbing a bank wasn’t her biggest fan. but still. she didn’t come here to make friends with the wrong people. not again.

y/n faust needed to find the justice league. and she needed to make sure that she was on the right side of history this time.

“ardor,” artemis repeats slowly. she knows that ardor is not her real name, but artemis wasn’t about to supply this strange girl with her real name so she had reason to expect that ardor would give her hers.

still, something about this girl indicated that she was hiding something that she definitely should not be. for some reason, she kind of reminded artemis of…herself.

again, signs pointing things more than a little on the fishy side.

but artemis knew better than to judge based on things like that. she herself was a super criminal’s daughter. what right did she have to judge anyone else based on their life experience?

and besides, the way ardor looked around, taking in the grimy alleyway of gotham was too innocent. it was like she was seeing it for the first time - like she was seeing everything for the first time.

“alright ardor. well, what brings you to gotham?” artemis asks. ardor looks at her and then back down at her foot, leaning against the disgusting wall of the bank that they were so inconveniently next to to relieve some of the pressure on her injured foot.

artemis could practically see the gears turning in this girl’s head and she’s once again hit with the fact that either this girl was a really good actress or she genuinely had gone under the radar this whole time. in any case, whoever had taught her to use her powers hadn’t taught her how to keep a poker face.

“would you believe me if i said i came from another dimension? to look for the justice league?”

artemis searches ardor’s face, furrowing her eyebrows when she doesn’t see a single trace of lying in her eyes. she was speaking the whole, genuine truth. which of course, would have to be verified by batman and the rest of the league but as far as this girl herself knew, she was telling the truth.

she sighs, shaking her head and pulling out a transmission device on a secure line.

“sure. we have a speed force and zeta tubes. why not have alternate dimensions?” she mumbles under her breath, clicking a few buttons on the transmission device.

“nightwing? pull me out. i’ve secured the objective and uh, a friend that i think you should meet.”

[march 18, 20XX, 12:19 a.m.]

[happy harbor bowl-o-rama, happy harbor, rhode island]

“does everything in your dimension look this…depressing?” ardor asks, wide-eyed as she takes in the rather sad state of the bowl-o-rama.

artemis exchanges a look with nightwing before shrugging. “i mean, you did come straight from gotham right? that’s not exactly the happiest place to start off in…a different…dimension.”

nightwing nods. “yeah. what’s your dimension like? less crazy than icicle sr., i hope?”

there’s a wry smile on ardor’s face that feels out of place. like she’s not used to such an emotion.

“i don’t know; i wouldn’t call it less crazy necessarily. i mean, nothing’s ever normal when klarion’s involved,” she says, deep in thought. nightwing pauses, doing a double take and looking at artemis.

don’t look at me! i have no clue what this kid knows either, she says telepathically. miss martian hadn’t made ardor’s acquaintance, since nightwing wanted to keep this as under wraps as possible before deciding their next steps.

“i’m sorry, did you say klarion? as in klarion the witch?” nightwing says incredulously. ardor blinks, before nodding slowly.

“you’re not his friends are you? i doubt it, since klar doesn’t exactly do friends and his friends are definitely not as nice as you guys have been but of course, that could just be a false front as you wait for me to let down my guard so you can kidnap me and send me back to my dimension.”

now it’s nightwing and artemis’s turn to blink at ardor. i see what you mean, yujin. she’s definitely not showing up on any of our databases so i don’t think that she’s an undercover agent because she’s not really giving any of those signs. not to mention that ‘klar’ mixed with alternate dimensions is a pretty severe indication that this girl probably has been living a life hard to understand by our standards. and…as much as i can’t stand klarion and his stupid evil magic stuff, i think that her association with him might not be as evil as we think it is.

“no, we’re not his friends. in fact, i don’t think that he likes us very much at all,” artemis says gently. ardor’s eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting of the bowl-o-rama when artemis says this, and she leans forward excitedly.

“you wouldn’t happen to be connected to the justice league, would you? they’re pretty much the only people that i know for a fact klarion hates with a passion - and that means a lot for a warlock with the emotional maturity of a prepubescent boy,” ardor says. nightwing fights to keep the smile off of his face at ardor’s enthusiastic spirit at the sight of finding those who didn’t like her acquaintance (?).

it’s easy enough to do when the questions in his mind start to spin out of control.

“we’re familiar with people who could get you in touch with the justice league, sure. but before we do that, do you mind telling us why you’re here? in this dimension? and maybe why you’re willing to look for people who are actively working against your…acquaintance?” ardor’s smile from before starts to fade with nightwing’s torrent of questions as she looks down at her bandaged ankle, trying to come up with all of the answers to his questions.

“um. well, sure. but please, you have to promise to hear me out fully before you decide anything! and whatever i tell you, please please don’t send me back to where i came from. even though i’m pretty sure that’s kind of impossible without dark magic, i just really can’t go back,” ardor says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

artemis reaches out to place one of her hands over ardor’s hands clasped over the table that they were sitting at.

“i promise that we’ll give you a fair chance to explain yourself,” artemis says. “trust me.”

careful yujin. you said that she’s got pyrokinetic powers but we don’t know what else she’s got, nightwing says through the link, never once moving a muscle on his face.

i know that, sunghoon. but we’ve all had our fair share of dark pasts. we’ve gotta at least hear her out. and innocent until proven guilty, remember? artemis fires back, tuning back in when ardor opens her mouth to explain.

i know i’m not supposed to sift through her mind, but if it makes either of you safer, from what i can tell just from being as minimally invasive as possible to keep her from knowing i’m in her mind, she’s telling the truth, soojin says through the mindlink that allowed them to speak to each other and artemis almost misses the way that nightwing relaxes subconsciously, fighting to keep the smile off her face.

“uh…i guess there’s no easy way of putting it but my name is y/n faust. as in the daughter of felix faust, the magician,” ardor - y/n - begins. both artemis and nightwing nod, as if to coax her into continuing, thoughts racing at a mile per minute.

“i’m not really sure who my mom is. but i found out a year ago that my father moved me from this dimension, where i was born, to the dimension he created to keep me locked away from this world. he told me that it was too dangerous here and that he created that dimension to protect me from the horrors of this world - something like the story of rapunzel, if you guys have that in dimension.

“i’ve been living in a sense of seclusion for the past eighteen years. for seventeen years, i believed everything that he said. i thought it genuinely was dangerous in this dimension and that my dad was keeping me isolated from everything and everyone because he didn’t want me to get hurt. but there were things that just stopped adding up - if he was truly trying to protect me, why was he always in a different dimension, fighting those people called the ‘justice league’ instead of staying in my dimension and protecting me? why were the only people who were allowed in my dimension scary looking people like klarion? why did he only ever teach me out to make pretty shapes and do stupid party tricks with my powers instead of ever teaching me how to protect myself? why didn’t he ever let me see what the dimension next to me looked like? if it was so bad that i wouldn’t be able to survive, letting me see such a horrible dimension would make me want to run straight back into my safe little bubble, wouldn’t it?

“the questions kept adding up and i just never got any answers that i needed from my dad. one day, i managed to get klarion to confess exactly how i got stuck in that dimension and why my dad never let me leave. he never told me the full story - and obviously, i had to take everything he said with a grain of salt - but i’d gleaned enough to understand two things: one, my father was hiding me from the world, sure, but mostly from a specific person. two, he wasn’t the good guy like he was parading himself to be before i’d been able to trick into klarion telling me. i don’t think i actually tricked him, to be honest. i’m pretty sure he only told me out of spite for something my dad had done, but he told me anyway.”

artemis leans back in her chair, letting out a low whistle as her and nightwing process everything that y/n had just revealed to the two of them.

“i never knew faust had a kid,” nightwing says softly, and y/n (ardor?) shrugs, a wry smile wringing at her lips.

“faust’s kid didn’t really know there was a whole different dimensional world until last year so i won’t hold it against you,” she says. artemis and nightwing exchange a look.

soojin, i know that we’ve been pretty against mind-searching but do you think you could do a quick scan - as much as you can without getting caught - so that we can verify her story. i want to believe her but that’s a lot of information that can’t be checked otherwise. i mean if she’s really from a different dimension, there’s no telling what exactly happened in that dimension, nightwing thinks through the mindlink.

“so what made you come look for the justice league?” artemis voices out loud and y/n looks back down at her foot before shaking her head.

“my dad and his so called friends are doing some bad stuff in this dimension. i don’t know exactly what he’s doing but i think i have some intel that might be able to get the justice league ahead of my dad and his friends this time. because i don’t think this dimension should have to see the light.”

artemis bristles at the mention of the light. an evil counterpart to the justice league, the light was capable of any level of evil that the justice league was seeking to put an end to but with the company of various high level figures such as vandal savage, klarion the witch boy, felix faust, ra’s al ghul, and lex luthor.

even her father, sportsmaster.

they were twisted, evil people who thought that the best way to elevate humanity and make them the ‘ultimate ruling race of the universe’ was to eliminate those who were ‘too weak to serve their purpose’ and use the rest as braindead killing machines.

all for power. everything just for power.

which was why any and all intelligence that could be provided in the fight to first figure out what the light were up to and then to figure out how to stop it was of defcon priority one.

but a single look at nightwing’s face is enough to tell artemis that she might be the only one thinking that way.

sunghoon was lost in thought, analyzing the behavior of the girl in front of them carefully. his body language was cautiously open, showing that he was open to whatever information she was presenting to them, but his arms were crossed over the table that they were sitting so that it looked like he was leaning over to examine y/n and every single tell that she was giving.

“so that explains your search for the justice league then. and i guess the pyrokinetics. any chance you might clue us in on what information you have on the light?” nightwing asks, and y/n shrinks back, suddenly looking very unsure of herself.

“i - i don’t think so. you both have been very nice and i really have to thank you for being one of the good guys and not hurting me in my time here but i, uh, really would rather talk to the justice league. when i landed in gotham, i saw batman on one of the justice league posters. i don’t know any of the other members of the justice league so if it would be possible, i’d like to tell him directly,” y/n says with a somewhat regretful tone. “not that i don’t trust you guys! i think you would’ve hurt me already if you wanted to. but…from what i can tell, the light are some really dangerous people. i just don’t want more people to get hurt than i can help.”

anything, soojin?

nothing, sunghoon. she’s clean. she’s telling the truth. but i do have to say that she’s keeping something from the two of you. it’s nothing evil, but it’s definitely something personal. i wouldn’t ask her about it because i’m pretty sure it’s private business but i do think that it might be important later so make sure that you make her feel comfortable enough to ask, soojin responds and sunghoon makes sure to file away the information in his brain before tuning back into the conversation.

“…we totally understand where you’re coming from, y/n,” artemis is saying when he starts listening again. “and since it seems like you don’t have too many friends to stay with in this dimension, why don’t we take you to one of our safe houses before we can determine our next steps? like you said, we’re dealing with some pretty powerful and not so nice people. we want to make sure that everyone is safe before we do anything.”

“sure. i understand.” y/n pauses, seemingly hesitant as she looks down at her clothes. it’s only then that nightwing realizes that her clothes are somewhat torn from her scuffle (and undoubtedly from her tumble into their dimension).

“do you - i mean, only if you want - a change of clothes maybe? i’m not really sure what’s fashionable in your dimension but i’m sure artemis can conjure something up in your size. not that you won’t look good in whatever…if you care about that. not that you should! or shouldn’t, of course,” nightwing says, tripping over his words as he speaks. yujin turns to him with a interested glint in her eyes that signaled nothing less than i’m onto you as she turns back to y/n with a soft smile, who’s blinking at the two of them owlishly.

“uh…to be honest, when the only other female figure in your life is talia al ghul, you learn to kind of make your own fashion standards,” she says slowly, a small smile on her face.

“right. makes sense.” sunghoon stands up abruptly, unsure why he was tripping over his words and making himself seem like such a loser all of a sudden. “i’ll leave you two to it then. i have some things i need to take care of elsewhere.”

some things? you mean me, sunghoon? aqualad says in sunghoon’s mind and it takes everything in him to keep from freaking out in front of y/n and artemis, although the latter was faring no better than he was.

heeseung had been checking in - more frequently than yujin had been, anyway - but given the objective he’d been given, it worried sunghoon more than he cared to let on when he didn’t hear from him in over six days.

or did you mean anywhere but here, by elsewhere? jay adds and sunghoon can hear the thinly veiled poke at sunghoon’s floundering in front of y/n before.

see, this is why i hate superpowers sometimes, sunghoon grumbles, pushing the door to the bowl-o-rama open. and heeseung, i thought we were meeting directly at mount justice whenever you secured the objective?

already finished the objective, captain. i was just dropping by here since i was told by kid flash that there was an interesting show going on at the bowl-o-rama. i wanted to provide reinforcements if they were needed, heeseung says nonchalantly.

you’re just itching for seeing me make a fool of myself, sunghoon corrects and even soojin can’t keep the laugh out of her voice.

she is very pretty, to be fair. i’d probably fumble my words too. i just thought you’d be a little more suave for someone like you, nightwing, soojin says.

that’s - that’s not why i was fumbling. and besides, we don’t even know for sure if she’s really on our side or not. she might just be a horribly good actress and i don’t want to really give her the benefit of the doubt right now. that’s up to batman, nightwing says gruffly. but he still can’t help but turn around and glance inside the bowl-o-rama, where y/n is laughing at something that artemis is saying.

sunghoon shakes his head, unable to keep the smallest of smiles off his face. sunghoon is nightwing. he’s cool. suave. the boy wonder. he doesn’t get flustered in front of pretty girls. no, he flusters pretty girls. sunghoon is the man!

uh, boy wonder? big guy in blue? gray son of gotham? we can still hear you, jake says and this time, not even soojin keeps herself from laughing.

fuck my life. and fuck you guys too.

[march 18, 20XX, 8:19 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“how long has the bat been in there?” jake asks, munching on an apple. yujin not so subtly jumps away from the door of the room that batman and ardor were sitting in, discussing whatever it was that she had on the light.

“at least forty-five minutes. i mean she said she didn’t have much so i don’t even know what they’re talking about this point,” yujin huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the door.

“you’re awfully overprotective over someone you met less than twelve hours ago,” jake comments and yujin rolls her eyes, pulling jake’s arm so that he stumbled over to her.

“and you’re awfully jealous of my attention being on a girl i met twelve hours ago,” yujins reasons, and jake leans forward to press a kiss to her lips, only to jump backwards when they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“i understand that the two of you have been separated for quite some time but don’t you think that reunions should be done in places that are more private? such as perhaps the home that the two of you share?” heeseung says with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow.

“lighten up aqualad,” jake says, punching him in the arm. “don’t worry, i was concerned for you too. i missed having to hide from people like i was going to get in trouble for kissing my girlfriend.”

“speaking of getting in trouble,” heeseung begins, pushing jake’s hand off of his arm. “don’t you two have school?”

“oh shit! it’s already 8:20? we’ve got ten minutes to get to class!” yujin says, checking her watch. she leans over to press a chaste kiss to jake’s cheek before rushing over to the zeta tubes to transport her directly to palo alto, jake hurrying to follow suit.

“you haven’t been back for more than a day and you’re already on parenting duty?” sunghoon asks, leaning against a pillar, mug of coffee in hand.

heeseung shrugs, nodding towards the door that was still closed. “well someone has to get them away from this door and back to their degrees.”

“i could barely keep them off of each other for long enough to get a mission briefing from her last night,” sunghoon says, shivering as he recalls the horrible sight of having to watch jake physically have to be separated from yujin when they reunited in mount justice last night.

“you say this now but you were definitely killing yourself trying to make sure that she was alright when she went under. especially since i bet kid flash was giving you hell about it,” heeseung says with a knowing glint in his eyes. sunghoon just offers him a tired smile as he waves, retreating into the kitchen.

“you’re welcome to take back team leader position whenever you’d like to, aqualad,” sunghoon calls out from the kitchen.

“no thanks. i’ve already got the title of ‘aquaman’ hanging over my head. i don’t think i’ll be itching for any new titles any time soon,” heeseung calls back. sunghoon sticks his neck out over the counter that separated the general meeting space from the living space, an incredulous look on his face.

“so it’s true? arthur’s handing over the mantle of aquaman?” he asks, now fortified with a plate of buttered toast. heeseung sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as he sits down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter.

“yeah. it’s hard to manage being the king of atlantis and the representative of atlantis in the justice league so he’s been asking for a while if i wanted to take on the responsibilities of aquaman,” heeseung says softly.

sunghoon lets out a low whistle, looking up at the bright lights of the kitchen before looking back at heeseung.

“what do you think? i mean…i hate to say it but you’d have to leave the team if you were to become justice league material. you know, our team being covert and all.” sunghoon’s tone is light, almost as if he were jesting but both heeseung and sunghoon know that his heart is heavy.

“you, jay, and i formed this team together. and with so many new threats, it feels as though i have had such little time with our team. i just can’t imagine leaving it so soon,” heeseung says comfortingly but sunghoon is able to read between the lines.

“but you have a responsibility and a duty towards your king,” sunghoon says, his words filling in the blanks.

“it won’t be anytime soon - if i were to accept the offer - but i figured it would be best to talk it over with the team leader before i made any decisions,” heeseung explains. “not to mention that our team has changed quite a bit in the past year already. i’m just considering all the routes to be taken right now. especially since the fact that entry into the justice league would be to abandon the covert identity of the team to expose myself to the public. for a good cause, of course, but i could never return to a secret team such as our own ever again.”

“hm. whatever you decide, it’ll be the right decision, heeseung. i can tell you that much. and as your team leader, i’d like to remind you that this team will always need you and have a spot on the team for you, so long as your identity remains covert. but at the same time, this team will never stay the same forever. i think that jake and yujin moving out to california was the first indication of that. but that doesn’t mean that our friendships or that our team will ever lose you,” sunghoon says after a moment of contemplation.

heeseung finally smiles a relieved smile. “it brings me great comfort to hear you speak that way, old friend.”

sunghoon can’t offer more than a bittersweet smile, and heeseung and sunghoon both know that things have been different between the three founding members for a long while now, even if they all hated to admit it.

“batman has asked you many times if you wanted to turn to fighting crime in the name of the justice league, has he not?” heeseung asks.

“yeah. he has. but i don’t know. i don’t think i’m ready to leave this team just yet,” sunghoon says, and for some reason, he finds his gaze trailing over to the door that was still shut. usually the therapy room was occupied for no more than twenty minutes (or longer if the mission had been particularly mentally taxing, but that was very rare).

“yes. there is still much to be done. many people to save,” heeseung says, and sunghoon snaps his gaze back to heeseung’s knowing one and for some reason, although the age difference between heeseung and sunghoon is but a year and a half, for some reason, it feels as though heeseung is lightyears ahead of sunghoon.

“i’m not into her,” sunghoon says feverishly, but heeseung just shrugs.

“i never said you were. she is someone to save, is she not?”

sunghoon doesn’t know what to say to that, but he finds that he’s saved (once again) by his old mentor, and batman steps out of the therapy room, y/n behind him, her eyes red and swollen, as if she’d been crying.

“i expect that mount justice has space for one more inhabitant?” he asks, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he’s not exactly asking.

in fact, batman rarely used words that he didn’t exactly need to use. ‘mount justice’ meant that y/n was safest here, in a secret location that was used by the team as a secret headquarters. that meant that she was probably in danger - from the light, at sunghoon’s best guess. the fact that he also said ‘one more inhabitant’ meant that y/n’s powers (which had been described briefly by yujin) were to be utilized for good.

if sunghoon chose to. or realistically, if the team decided that she would be a good fit and that adding her to the team wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in.

“we have the space,” sunghoon says carefully, and batman almost smiles at the caution that he’s drilled into his mentee so many times in the past.

“she needs a place to stay. and she can hold her own - she’d be a good addition to the team,” batman confirms, and sunghoon can hear the true message behind his words.

she’s safe. her story checks out. you can trust her.

batman has never been wrong in the past; sunghoon saw no reason to start questioning him now.

and besides, when sunghoon had done some digging of his own last night, her saw that y/n’s story mostly checked out. at the very least, it would explain the inter-dimensional issues that were growing larger, according to doctor fate.

“then, i am going to leave sunghoon to showing you to your room. i have some business on atlantis to attend to,” heeseung says, and sunghoon catches the stray glance he throws at him, choosing to ignore it steadily.

“i’ll head out then, too. but nightwing, i’d like to have a one on one with you later on,” batman adds and it’s slight, barely there (as much of batman’s emotion usually was) but sunghoon can hear the faint jest in his words.

the cave (the nickname that they called the area where the training grounds, zeta tubes, and the therapy room were all located in, adjacent to the kitchen) grew emptier as the zeta tubes rang out twice, reading out batman and aqualad’s recognition numbers.

“and then there were two,” sunghoon says, largely to himself. y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she pouts, trying to recall if she’d ever heard the phrase before.

“i thought the book was called and then there were none?” she asks slowly and sunghoon shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

“i guess there’s a lot of gap between inter-dimensional sayings.”

“probably. the only saying that i know of is ‘don’t venture too far into the darkness or you’ll die.’ i didn’t know how to tell my dad that i was scared of the dark anyway.”

“for someone who grew up around the light, you’re pretty softhearted.”

“eh, it’s easy to not listen when your powers involve pyrokinetics. you know, because fire? and fire emits light? light beats darkness? also, you know my dad is involved with the light, right? it’s all pretty ironic and hypocritical if you stop to think about it.”

sunghoon blinks, unsure if how they ended up in this conversation all of a sudden. huh. it wasn’t like him to lose track of a conversation like that. to be fair, when your conversational partner is usually jake sim, half the time sunghoon was just stuck asking him to stop talking at the speed of sound.

literally.

“uh-huh. anyway, let me show you your room,” sunghoon says, rounding the corner to exit the kitchen and reach where y/n was standing. the two of them walk side by side and sunghoon leads her down the hallway past the amenities (pointing out the essential ones - the gaming room - as they walked) towards the bedroom.

“i’m sorry. i’m not being a burden staying here, right?” she asks after a lull in the sunghoon’s tour guide speech. sunghoon looks at her, somewhat startled by the question.

“why would you be a burden?”

y/n sighs, looking at the ground as they walked, finally stopping in front of the room that she had slept in yesterday. “i don’t know, but i’ve just been alone for my entire life. the closest person i had to someone that was kinda my age was klarion, the witchboy himself, and he doesn’t exactly make good company. i don’t really know what it’s like to be around people my age all the time - especially not people i thought were evil for so long.”

“you thought we were evil?” sunghoon asks and he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth. here this girl was, risking her life to share information to save them, and confiding her feelings to him and sunghoon was butthurt about being called evil. what happened to being suave? the big guy in blue? the smooth-talking hero that dropped panties?

maybe the last part was a tad bit tonedeaf. and unnecessary.

“uh. yeah. that’s why i was told i shouldn’t come to this dimension? why the justice league was bad and we should all ‘see the light’?” y/n says.

“right. sorry. um. how did you figure out that the light wasn’t really the good guys if the information you got in that dimension was so controlled? i can’t imagine klarion just letting up information like that. i know that you said that he did it to spite your dad, but it’s just so strange, is it not? i mean, klarion may be a pain in the ass but he’s not stupid enough to risk falling on the other side of the light’s alliances,” sunghoon says after a beat and y/n shrugs, but her eyes are guarded.

“it’s a long story,” she says, and sunghoon is left wondering if maybe batman had had the same question. that’s probably why the ‘interrogation’ too so long earlier, he realizes belatedly.

“i won’t pry. but y/n, i do have to remind you that the more information you’re ready to share with us, the more prepared we are when the light comes to this dimension to wreak whatever havoc you want to prevent,” sunghoon says, picking and choosing his words very carefully.

“and i’ve already given all the information i have to the justice league. i don’t know why i should have to share the information i have with every single person in this dimension. and besides, what does my personal enlightenment have to do with the light’s plans?” y/n asks, her tone quick and sharp, unlike sunghoon has ever heard her before.

granted, he only knew her for a total of about ten hours, but still. he never expected to hear such a tone from a girl like her, especially when she had been so open before. but it was like she said - when your only female figure is talia al ghul, it’s hard to imagine trying to be anything but the most cunning and cutthroat person possible. maybe all of her friendliness was just a facade and this was her true personality?

speaking of female figures, sunghoon wonders what had happened to her mother. clearly, she wasn’t in the picture if y/n had no clue who she was. but sunghoon knew from his own time as the detective of the team that oftentimes, in cases where the children were isolated from the rest of the world and raised by a singular parent, it was a trauma response from a behavior from the other parent.

of course, it wasn’t as though sunghoon had a bunch of cases to base his theories off of, but the patterns were almost glaringly obvious in the few cases that he did have.

“right. i’m sorry if i was prying. i just - never mind. i’m sorry y/n. you’re entitled to your privacy,” he says, stepping back from the doorway of y/n’s room to turn around and leave when he feels a hand grab onto his wrist.

his first instinct is to flip the owner of it over his shoulder and press a knife to their neck (battle worn responses, courtesy of training with batman and black canary) but for some reason, his second instinct is to cover y/n’s hand with his own. and sunghoon definitely doesn’t have any answers for why exactly.

“i’m sorry. i know i’m being touchy. it’s just that everything is just so new and so much. and like i said, i went a good part of my life thinking that you guys were the bad guys; it’s hard to remember that i can actually tell people things. and you know, trust people with information. you gotta give me some time. i promise, i’ve already said everything that’s absolutely vital to say,” she says, offering a sheepish look as an olive branch.

sunghoon’s heart pangs with guilt, and he takes another step back, barely registering the look in y/n’s eyes when his wrist disconnects from her hand. “yeah, of course. trust me, i know what it’s like better than most people what it’s like to feel like you can’t trust those around you. especially when you’ve just been thrown into a new environment. i’ll leave you to getting settled in.”

he turns around, making his way down the hallway, stopping halfway and turning around, only to make eye contact with y/n, who was watching him walk, her hand on the doorway and her body leaning slightly out of the room to get a better look.

“um. soojin and jay should be awake soon. they live here so you’ll never be completely alone, so don’t worry about safety or anything, okay?” he says awkwardly, trying to offer some sort of explanation of why exactly he kept hesitating to leave her standing there.

“thanks. that’s good to hear. but um, you don’t live here?” she asks, thumbing the metal of the doorway.

“nah. just soojin and jay. the rest of us live in our own places outside of mount justice,” sunghoon says, and he can’t help the eyebrow that cocks upwards, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. “why? would you prefer if i did?”

“no! i mean, no! i mean, like, i don’t have a preference if you lived here or not - it would be totally cool either way. i just - i was just asking,” she says, stumbling over her words and sunghoon finally feels the tension in his shoulders melt. turns out, his charm still worked on cute girls. even cute girls who’ve been surrounded by psychopaths like talia al ghul and klarion the witchboy.

for some reason, that thought suddenly makes the tension return to his shoulders.

“whatever you say, y/n.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“i assume you didn’t ask me to come back to gotham to feed me dinner, eunwoo,” sunghoon says, but he helps himself to another serving of steak, which doesn’t go unnoticed by neither eunwoo (batman, and the man that had raised sunghoon ever since he was orphaned) nor alfred (the family butler who had truly raised sunghoon).

“no. but i figured that it would be appreciated,” eunwoo says, and sunghoon can hear the affection practically dripping from his voice. when sunghoon had first seen eunwoo don the attire of the ‘batman’ suit, he’d been shocked.

sunghoon had always known eunwoo as a rather sweet and disciplined man, but he’d never imagined that eunwoo would also have the side of him that showed unreal levels of intelligence, seriousness, and a thirst for justice that he’d successfully passed down to sunghoon.

“alfred’s cooking never goes unappreciated, that much i can guarantee.” sunghoon sets down his fork, chewing slowly as he lets the silence between them grow longer.

when he was younger, full of passion to prove his worth to batman, sunghoon would run his mouth with things he’d learned or discovered, unintentionally telling batman many things that he probably wouldn’t have in other circumstances, just to fill the silence. but now, sunghoon just ate quietly, feigning nonchalance.

he knows that he’s won the battle of wits when eunwoo breaks the silence.

“so about ardor,” eunwoo begins. his eyes are trained on the food in front of him but sunghoon knows that all of his attention is on him. “she’s interesting. she’s shared some information that’s hard to believe but if it’s true, it could put at a serious advantage above the light.”

“right. well, i hope that information reaches the right people,” sunghoon says, shutting his eyes in regret when he realizes the freudian slip he’d let through his filtering system.

“what do you mean by that, young master?” alfred asks, and sunghoon sighs, knowing that the question was said by alfred but it was coming from batman. and sunghoon could never really keep any secrets from alfred anyway. the old man had a way of weaseling secrets out of him; sunghoon figures that alfred was secretly in espionage before retiring to help eunwoo take over cha enterprises.

or something like that, anyway.

“i just mean that she really emphasized that the information should get to the right people. she landed in gotham after she escaped the dimension she’s from. now i don’t know how much control she had of where she landed, but she’s mentioned many times that she thought that the justice league was evil. but the very point of our team is espionage and identity protection; there’s no reason that she should have to suspecting us, since she would have no idea who we were. but she still refused to tell us any information and insisted on only telling batman, who could’ve been proven to be evil, for all she knew.

“it could just be because she landed in gotham and did a little bit of research to figure out who the vigilante of gotham was, fixated on that singular person, and decided not to trust anyone else because of the people she’s been exposed to her entire life. but someone so skittish wouldn’t reveal any details to anyone and just insist on talking to you - batman - the whole time. there’s no real reason she had to give us any details if she truly didn’t trust us.

“so, that can’t be the reason why she was so hesitant sharing the information about the light with the rest of us. my guess? we’ve got a mole in the justice league or in the team. it’s likely not the team, since everyone just came back from their objectives safely and soojin would definitely realize if someone had been turned with her mind-reading capacity. i don’t doubt that martian manhunter, since he has the same set of powers, would also be able to see if there’s a mole in the justice league. but it’s different. not only is soojin more powerful, she’s also got an emotional link between the six of us - we all read certain signatures in her mind and she’s the first one to know whenever one of us have the slightest changes in our emotions. she’d figure out a mole in a second.

“so that rules out the team. her information must have something to do with the light having a mole. but she doesn’t know anyone else in the justice league, or maybe she knew for a fact that you weren’t the mole, which is why she’s been so fixated on finding you and telling you everything else. i assume that you’re only even telling me anything after verifying her information and getting her consent to tell me, if you found me safe enough to tell.” sunghoon can practically see the brainwaves radiating off of batman, analyzing every word that sunghoon had chosen to use to explaining his reasoning.

sunghoon hadn’t planned on revealing that soojin’s (and the team’s) bond ran deeper than just connecting them telepathically, but at least by telling batman that, he’d realize that the team was more than capable of taking care of each other and that they definitely didn’t need any new members right now.

besides y/n. if she wanted to join the team, sunghoon honestly wasn’t opposed to the idea of her joining, and he doubted that anyone else was truly offended by her presence. she’d be rather welcome, he thinks.

which is not what he should be thinking of right now. right.

“you’ve deduced the truth. there’s a mole in the justice league,” eunwoo says, shaking his head and leaning back into his chair. “but if we were to brute force it and try and figure out who it was in a way that’s obvious, the light would either find someone else to manipulate or just declare all out war on the justice league. and considering the members of the light, we cannot afford a war like that right now.”

his gaze turns to sunghoon, and grows thoughtful. “but the team can help us out. you specialize in espionage. it would be considerably easier for the team to find the mole, since the light isn’t exactly aware of the team besides chance encounters with a few villains here and there that might be affiliated with the light. in addition, if ardor were to be part of the team, she would have an easier time easing into this dimension, or maybe even be able to point out exactly who the mole is if she’s ever seen them before.”

“are you sure that y/n should be on the battlefield though? i don’t doubt her abilities but we really don’t know how strong she is. and she’d be fighting people she was once on the same side as,” sunghoon points out and eunwoo’s face grows visibly sad, something that sunghoon has seen very rarely during all of his time with him.

“i know. and i hate to ask that of her. but you and i know better than anyone else what it’s like to grow up around such evil people throughout your entire life. and having no one else to turn to? she needs people her age around her who can show her what life is supposed to be like. no one else should have to suffer like she did, but something tells me that she’s strong enough to be able to point the proverbial finger at the proverbial villain. living with such people could not have been easy. i hate to ask her to channel her revenge in this way but - ” eunwoo cuts off when he sees the look in sunghoon’s eyes.

“i’m not going to ask her to stand in danger’s way just so that it’s easier for us to beat the people that she’s always grown up with - the only people she’s known for her entire life. but the team will help her assimilate into this dimension. we’ll be her friends,” sunghoon says, and his voice has a protective edge to it that he can’t bother to disguise.

“just promise me that if she ever wants to join the team, you don’t shut her out,” eunwoo says finally. “give her a chance.”

sunghoon just looks at eunwoo. “i won’t stop myself from doing what’s best for the team.”

dinner is relatively quiet after that, alfred starting conversations here and there about sunghoon’s day job as a detective (it was relatively easy to deal with normal, petty crime here and there when there were so many crimes that involved superhuman people with streaks of world domination). but other than that, the three of them were rather silent, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

sunghoon excuses himself, offering to wash the dishes to take the load off of alfred, gathering the plates and balancing them delicately as he leaves the room to reach the kitchen.

alfred looks over to eunwoo, who’s looking up at the light fixture that they’d installed three years ago, at sunghoon’s request.

“our dining room looks more like a funeral room, eunwoo,” sunghoon had said. “come on, old bat. let’s add some color. some pizzazz.”

“pizzazz?” eunwoo had asked, eyebrows raised in humor.

“you know, whatever young kids call it these days.”

“you’re nineteen, sunghoon.”

“and you’re twenty-four. we all need some more life in this place. you’d think we’re all alfred’s age with the way this house looks.”

“young master, what offense has my age brought in all of this?”

“sorry alfred. low hanging fruit.”

“that feels like a euphemism.”

“that’s gross.”

eunwoo sighs, a quick huff of air escaping his mouth. that was about as close to a laugh as alfred was used to these days, anyway.

“when did we end up like this, alfred? he used to look up to me for everything. we did everything together. and i still love the kid half to death but it’s just difficult when it feels like we’re fighting about everything,” eunwoo says, never taking his eyes off of the light fixture. what do you know? it did have some pizzazz.

“that’s a part of raising kids, young master. you learn that at some point, the world is no longer ours. it’s the next generations. and they might not listen to elders’ advice because they have their own plans for the world but if there’s anything i’ve learned in raising you, it’s that oftentimes, their head is in the right place. they see things in ways that we cannot.” alfred smiles, leaving his seat in the middle of the table to sit right next to eunwoo, his gaze warm and comforting.

“he’s not my actual son, you know that right?” eunwoo says and alfred leans over to smack him upside the head - something that many people would dare to do to the batman.

“and you know as well as i do that blood relations means nothing when it comes to family, don’t you?” alfred says gently, his tone as firm as a warm hand clasped in a friend’s.

eunwoo glances at the doorway that led down to the kitchen and smiles faintly.

“yeah. i know that.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[???]

“YOU WHAT?” felix faust roars, fisting klarion’s freshly pressed shirt in angry palms. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY DAUGHTER?”

“alright pal, i’m gonna let that one go because i’m not in the mood right now. calm down,” klarion says, pushing faust off of him.

“YOU TOLD MY DAUGHTER THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS DIMENSION AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? YOU MOTHERFU - ” faust never gets to finish the rest of his sentence because the second that he gets back in klarion’s face, the witchboy casts a spell over him, causing him to fall asleep right where he was standing.

klarion looks at his slumped figure on the ground, almost disgusted before clicking his tongue. “i don’t know where these lower level peasants get all their audacity from.”

he looks around for teekles, his cat familiar, stretching his arms out for teekles to jump into.

“hm. it would be a big issue with the rest of the light if they realize that faust’s daughter is missing. pah, i don’t know why i helped him keep her here the whole time. she was gonna be a liability anyway,” klarion mutters to himself. “then again, i guess i was the one who let her out. and told her the truth. well. it was bound to come out at some point.”

he shrugs, ready to walk away when teekles meows in his arms and he groans, stamping his feet childishly.

“what do you mean i have to clean up my mess? i don’t wanna!” klarion says but teekles just meows at him once more and klarion drags himself, kicking and screaming to the dimensional pocket that lead him in and out of this isolated bubble dimension faust had created to isolate his daughter.

“i’m not going to tell the light just yet. let’s see where this girl could’ve gone. oh bother. this is too much trouble for the five minutes of fun i got.”

“meow.”

“i don’t appreciate the sass, teekles.”

and in his childish hurry, for all of his wit, klarion the witchboy is none the wiser when felix faust rises from his slumber, plotting the death of his own daughter.

#jnnul #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fic #enhypen fic #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #jake fluff #jay fluff #soojin fluff #yujin fluff

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whore-for-chris-evans · 3 months

Text

I lack the wisdom required to write this fic, but I hope someone skilled enough takes the initiative to.

Have any of you ever thought about Steve Rogers waking up from the ice and not going back to fighting?

He wakes up, Fury tells him he needs him, and Steve makes a choice for himself and says no, at least for now. Fury respects that choice, Steve gets a therapist (a good one, not Dr. Christina Passive-Aggressive Raynor) and uses his second chance in life to do the things he actually wanted to. Art. History. Maybe he goes to college again.

On top of all this, he figures out the internet (come on, he's a smart man. He's not gonna be clueless forever) and you know golden boy Steve would jump at the chance of using social media for a good cause.

And I also think Steve would be great at debates. The fucker (affectionate) has a way with words. He's also a nerd. He's well informed and has quick thinking skills. He gets into online fights a lot. Tweets and retweets a hell lot.

Gets Tumblr. (Steve would love tumblr don't lie to me) Reblogs things like it's his last day on earth. (But somehow makes sure to utilise the tag feature perfectly so everything is organised).

Some dudebro makes a misogynistic comment and he's there to verbally drop kick Dudebro into the next week.

Somebody makes an offhand comment regarding something historical and Steve gets his trusty motorcycle and drives his star spangled fine ass to the library and the next day there's a video circulating the internet of him citing sources (down the page number, paragraph number and line number) to prove why the offhand comment was grossly incorrect.

Someone angrily reposts his tweet saying "THAT IS NOT THE AMERICA OF MY DREAMS TALKING" and Steve proceeds to respond with "I'm a person. I can't be a country. What I can try to be is a good human being." and then absolutely demolishes the other person. (Yes to Steve reclaiming himself as Steve Rogers and not Captain America)

He also posts art. Like, everyday. But it gets slightly overshadowed by everything else he does and says.

He has a separate Instagram. For more personal stuff. Pictures of himself? Rarely. Pictures of birds and animals and trees and sunrises and sunsets? Absolutely. Pictures of the cat and the dog he rescued and now is a proud dad to? Everyday. (He's definitely a both person.) Maybe someday he'll step out of his comfort zone and start going live. Everyone loves him. Everyone rational, that is.

He stays away from tiktok.

2014. Fury shows up at his apartment and gets shot. Something stirs in Steve's brain as the masked assassin catches his shield. Those eyes seem familiar. Despite his reservations, he jumps back into the fray. The whole CATWS thing happens.

He finds Bucky. Brings him home. Fights tooth and nail for the charges against him to be dropped. He's got 70 years of military back-pay, he's got no problem getting the best lawyers (Matt Murdock is definitely among them) for the love of his life.

Anyways Bucky is set free. Moves in with Steve. People start gushing over him too. He stays out of Steve's internet life at first, but then the old Bucky comes back little by little. Maybe he'll join the livestreams. Maybe he'll make an Instagram of his own to post more of Steve.

People, being people, start shipping them. The two of them have a good laugh over it.

One day, out of nowhere, Steve shows up on one of his livestreams wearing a wedding ring. Comments go crazy. Bucky joins him on the couch, throws an arm around his shoulder, flashing his own matching band, smirking lazily.

The rest is mayhem. But they don't care. For Steve, life is perfect.

[I'd love to see Steve Rogers vs internet troll he'd eat that up]

I hope the good Steve Rogers authors see this. This has potential I think.

#steve rogers #steve and bucky #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers and bucky barnes #captain america #marvel #avengers #chris evans #sebastian stan

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etaleah · 10 months

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Absolutely sucks that your blog is ravaged with proshipping apologia. Like yeah enjoying dark subject matter in fiction doesn't mean you condone it IRL (I myself am an avid gore and kink fan and use that to express my feelings in art) but uhhh there's a difference between depicting pedophilia in a story and actively jacking it to child porn which is what most if not all proshippers are trying to justify.

The Venn diagram between proshippers and anime lolicons is a circle. "Ohhh it's not real" yeah sure technically but that's still very much a child being raped on screen you're getting your rocks off to. Being in the second dimension doesn't negate that.

Most proshippers don't actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art. They just wanna write their incest rape South Park fics and call anyone who calls them out on it "puritans." (I doubt any of you really understand what that word means. If not liking child porn makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin fucking Mary.) It's all excuses, excuses.

Fiction affects reality more than you think. It's why propaganda is so effective. It's why Jim Crow and minstrelsy was (and still is tbh) so harmful to African Americans. Why do you think POC care about how they're depicted in media so much? It very much influences thinking, how people see the world.

(There is an argument to be made about the rampant racism in fandom, but that's a whole other conversation.)

Don't dismiss this ask. I want you to read it very carefully and get yourself out of the echo chamber you've put yourself in. Consider the points made at the very least. Use the "critical thinking" you claim to love so much.

I have considered the points you made and read them very carefully, and I have found them incorrect, relying on faulty logic, and full of unverified assumptions and false equivalences. I now bring you a full breakdown of exactly why, though I’m putting it under a cut in case anyone wants to avoid the Discourse™ because this breakdown is a long one.

*cracks knuckles* Here we go!

You clearly have a different definition of “proship” than I do. I and those that I have reblogged or liked (as far as I can tell) are “proship” in the sense that we’re arguing for the freedom to read what you want and write what you want because thoughtcrime isn’t real, no one gets hurt inside your head, and the ability to read and write what we wish is vital to a free society. That’s my definition of “proship,” and if you have a different definition and are determined to stick to it, there’s not much I can do about that. I can only tell you what my definition is so that you know what I’m referring to when I talk about it in this post or reblog posts mentioning it.

If you’re referring to what’s on AO3 (which is what I am mainly concerned with, as I don’t talk about other fanfic sites on my blog), that is not child porn. It’s not. The term child porn refers to sexual photos and videos of real children, not text-only stories about fictional ones. AO3 does not allow users to upload videos nor does it allow users to upload photos except for their profile pictures, and it is literally written into their Terms of Service that they do not allow child pornography on their site. You couldn’t put child porn on AO3 if you tried. Text by itself with no photos or videos accompanying it is not child porn, and that’s true no matter how disgusting and immoral you find it. I don’t support or justify child porn because I don’t support or justify real children being hurt, which is what actual child porn involves and requires.

What I do support is the freedom for everyone to read and write what they want, and I am not going to stop supporting that.

How do you know that the people reading or writing a fic are “getting their rocks off to” or “actively jacking it” to what's in it? Did they tell you? Have you developed telepathic powers and read their minds? How do you know that people “don’t actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art?” Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. You don’t know why someone is reading something and you don’t know why someone is writing something. I have no idea whether the person checking Mein Kampf or Birth of a Nation out of a library is a racist who agrees with everything in both works or a scholar doing research for a paper on racism or just an average joe who wants to see what’s in there for themselves and form their own conclusions, which is a perfectly fine and intellectually healthy thing to want. I don’t know which of these is the case and I’m not going to automatically assume the worst-case scenario, nor am I going to demand that the person checking out those works provide me with an explanation because they don’t owe me one. You don’t know why someone is reading or writing a rape or incest story. Maybe they find it sexy or maybe they’re a victim themselves, working through their trauma by expressing it via the written word. You don’t know which one it is, and they don’t owe you an explanation. I’d advise you not to automatically assume the worst-case scenario either.

Because you know what happens when people assume the worst of an author’s intentions and assume they know what a work is doing? You get situations like Isabel Fall’s and Lindsay Ellis’ where people were sure they knew that the former was being transphobic with her short story and that the latter was trivializing rape with her “rape rap.” They were so sure, as sure as you are in your ask, not a doubt in their minds, didn’t think it was possible for there to be any other reason or interpretation, and so they felt totally justified in harassing those women. I’m sure each of them convinced themselves they were doing this because they were an ally who just cared so much and that those authors deserved the hate they were getting because (gasp!) they wrote something bad and if you write something bad, you should expect to be called out. And then they found out—oops! Turns out Isabel Fall was a trans person and not a cis person being transphobic after all, and was actually writing a story about a subject she had plenty of experience with, and—oops! Turns out Lindsay Ellis was an assault victim herself and she was coping with her trauma in the best way she could because making a lighthearted rap about the subject made it more accessible, easier to deal with, and not as scary and she wasn’t making fun of victims after all. Whoops!

How do you know the people writing these fics you find so horrible aren’t doing something similar to Ellis and Fall? How do you know they aren’t victims working through their grief and trauma in a way that helps them? How do you know you’re not misjudging and assuming the worst of them just like Fall’s and Ellis’ haters misjudged and assumed the worst of them? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. How do you know?

Why do you get to be the authority who decides what “properly depicting complex subject matter in art” even looks like? Maybe someone else read it and decided it was properly depicted; why does your opinion and interpretation matter more than theirs? Why is yours the correct one? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.

I don’t know what anime lolicon is, so I’m not gonna comment on that, though I will say it disproves your point about the Venn diagram being a circle since I am technically a proshipper and yet I don’t even know what that is. I’m sure if you look hard enough, you can probably find someone using the proship label who has done something bad or supports something bad, but the same can be said about antis. You get assholes in every group. Doesn’t mean everyone in the group is a bad person.

(Also I know this isn’t the most important point here but the fact that you’re more worried about the content of South Park fanfics rather than the South Park show itself says to me that you care more about finding an easy target than about minimizing harm because that show has plenty of racist and anti-Semitic “jokes” in it that are being fed to a much larger audience than any fanfic of it could ever have, yet I don’t see you being worried at all about that. Wonder why.)

(Another less important point but one I’m still going to indulge in: I find your line about “if that makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin Mary” funny in an ironic way because in trying to claim that people don’t know what the word puritan means, you proved that you yourself don’t know what it means by implying that puritan = virgin. Puritan and virgin are not the same thing. Virgin is a state of being that could be voluntary or, if you want sex but can’t find anyone to give it to you, it could be involuntary. One could be a virgin and still be sex-positive just like one could be a religious fundamentalist with ten kids who’s had all the sex required to make those ten kids but still be sex-negative and think that only the straight married baby-making kind is okay and all other kinds are impure and gross. Unlike virginity, puritanism is a mindset, not a state of being, and therefore it is always voluntary. You can be one without being the other. Again, not a super important point, but I thought the irony of that line was funny.)

You do know that Jim Crow was a set of laws and policies set down by the government and enforced by police and courts and not, like…a dirty fanfic or book, right? You do know that? It was and still is a legal framework that’s baked into the justice system and has been the driving force behind everything from mass incarceration to drug policy to redlining and housing to voter disenfranchisement. Bitch, I fucking wish that Jim Crow was nothing more than a bad fanfic or a bad story; that would make it a hell of a lot easier to fight! Acting like any one (fan)fiction writer or any one piece of (fan)fiction has the same amount of power as the fucking US government is some insane false equivalence.

As for the representation argument, you’re misunderstanding what that movement is about and why the founders of it cared about the state of media. We Need Diverse Books and organizations like it did not start their campaigns because they were disgusted by what White writers were doing and wanted to stop them and make sure they could never do it again. They started their campaigns to empower and encourage authors of color. It began when a few Black mothers were looking for books for their kids and realized they couldn’t find any with a Black child on the cover, not because they read something a White person wrote and were so horrified by it that they had to put a stop to it. Being so horrified by something in a story that you have to put a stop to it is what Moms for Liberty does. The goal of the representation matters movement is to diversify the publishing industry since it’s still majority White, to publish more authors of color because most of the authors being published are still White, and to update school curriculums so that students of color can read about and study characters like themselves. All of which are good and reasonable goals. It is not and never was about telling people what they were and were not allowed to write or read, or saying that they’re bad people because of what they write or read.

“Influences thinking” and “affecting reality” are not the same as controlling or determining thinking and reality. If fiction really does affect how people see the real world, then why, in a time when we have more positive books/movies/TV shows/plays of and by POC and positive queer books/movies/TV shows/plays than ever before, are we still dealing with vicious racism and homophobia? If fiction influences thinking and affects reality and how people see the world so much, then why, in a time when we have Drag Queen Story Hour and trans characters are being featured positively in popular TV shows and trans actors are winning awards, are we still dealing with some of the worst transphobia we’ve ever seen? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.

Fiction doesn’t make things happen. Playing violent video games doesn’t make a person violent. Reading or writing about an immoral act does not mean you agree with, get off to, or are going to do the immoral act. And that’s true regardless of what the immoral act in question is, whether it's gore or kink or rape or incest.

The problem with “you can read/write what you want except for X because X is gross/morally wrong” is that the bigots and mean-spirited folks of the world will find a way to make anything they don’t like into X. That’s the part antis don’t think about. But we’re already seeing it play out in school board meetings.

“We don’t want to ban Maus because it talks about the Holocaust, we want to ban it because uhhh it has pictures of naked prisoners in the camps and therefore it’s pornography.”

“We don’t want to ban Beloved because it talks about slavery, we want to ban it because uhhh it has a slave getting raped in it and therefore it’s pornography and sexually explicit and won’t someone think of the children!”

“We don’t want to ban all of these books because they have Black kids on the covers, we want to ban them because uhhh they’re critical race theory and indoctrination that teaches White kids to hate themselves!”

“We don’t want to keep drag queens out of libraries because we hate them and are transphobic, we want to keep them out of libraries because uhhh they’re sexualizing minors and teaching them to mutilate their genitals!”

Those are real examples. And they will happen to fanfiction too if we’re not careful. Someone doesn’t like Sonadow? Well they’re not against it because they’re homophobic or just don’t like the ship, they’re against it because uhhh it’s pedophilia since Shadow is 50-65 depending on how you count it and Sonic is 15. If it can happen with books, it can happen with fanfiction.

We’ve already seen cases of people running for board positions on AO3 who talked about “cleaning up the site,” and each time it turned out they were homophobic and were very much including queerness in what they considered “dirty.” That’s going to keep happening because antis keep falling for it and getting swept up in a manufactured moral panic without thinking through what the enforcement would be like. The whole reason AO3 has the policies that it does is because these kinds of purges happened regularly on other sites. Every time, people insisted it was “just the bad ones,” “just the immoral ones,” “just the underage ones,” etc. And it never was. And after every purge, there’d be a lot fewer queer love stories in the world.

How are you going to make sure that doesn’t happen again? How will you decide whose definitions of terms like “pedophilia,” “grooming,” “underage,” “sexualizing,” “fetishizing” get used? That’s the part antis never think about, is what enforcement of what they want would actually involve. Some people think “underage” is anyone under 25 or under 20 and some think it’s anyone under 18. Which one is right? Who gets to decide? Which country’s age of consent is the correct one that fanfic writers around the world all have to abide by regardless of where they’re from, and why is that country’s age of consent the correct one? Whose interpretation of a work is the correct one? And whoever ends up making these decisions, how will you stop this decision maker who gets to say what counts as “properly and improperly depicting complex subject matter” and what doesn’t from shifting the goalposts and abusing their power? How will you stop them from applying those negative labels to just any work they don’t like? What checks and balances will be put in place to keep whoever does the fanfiction gatekeeping from abusing that position? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. I’ve yet to see an anti have an answer to these questions.

I know propaganda is effective because you’ve fallen for it. The idea that peoples’ ability to read and write what they want must be restricted because Think of the Children™ and because “only bad people would ever want to read/write something bad” is the same talking points used by Moms for Liberty, Ron DeSantis, the people protesting Drag Queen Story Hour, and so many others. Every single time an attempt is made to restrict the freedom to read and write, it is always couched in the paternalistic language of protection, safety, just looking out for kids, and the fearmongering language of “that stuff is freaky, dirty, and gross and only a pervert would ever have a problem with it being banned.” Every time, it is discussed with the language of protection and safety, and every time, it is a lie.

I support the right of everyone to read and write what they want because I don’t know their situation, don’t have the right to demand an explanation of their situation or a detailed account of their very private and personal traumas, and have seen what happens when people try to excuse banning and censorship of written text or harassing authors with the excuses of “it’s just the bad ones,” “we’re just protecting kids,” “we just have a few concerns,” “we’re just being good allies,” and “if I wrote something gross I’d expect to get called out!”

So. Now that I have responded to your points, I hope that you will very carefully read and consider my points at the very least and get out of your echo chamber and use some critical thinking too. The fact that you put the phrase critical thinking in quotes like it’s a fake thing that doesn’t exist instead of a real and very important skill reveals a lot more than I think you meant it to, but still I hope you try.

I’ve disabled anonymous asks because I want to see if you’re brave enough to respond without hiding behind anonymity. I’ll be interested to see if you or anyone who agrees with you actually provides thoughtful, well-reasoned, and well-articulated answers to the questions I’ve asked instead of replying with a thought-terminating ad hominem like “That was a lot of words to say that you’re a [insert bad thing here]!” or “Just say you [insert bad thing here] and go!” And if you can actually provide evidence for your claims, if you can provide non-anecdotal, verifiable studies and data that are not from a religious or rightwing think tank that prove your points about proshipping and proshippers, then I’ll really be impressed.

I’m not holding my breath though.

#anti nonsense #anti censorship #my thoughts #book banning #fandom #ao3

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