#Live & Rare. Volume 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elikajinnie · 5 months

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You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader PART 1

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader

Warnings: Blood/injury. Violence, murder, panic attacks, stalking, obsessive behaviour/ possessive behavior.

Genre: Eventual romance, Horror/Thriller

Wordcount: 13k

Sum:

"Well, I'm not laughing," You said, your voice shaky as you moved through the house, checking every nook and cranny.

"I'm not laughing either, princess," he remarked, a term that sent a chill down your spine.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"Well, you never gave me your name," he said, his voice taking on a sinister edge.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

“Pretty girls covered in blood. As such, we were each in turn treated like something rare and exotic. A beautiful bird that spreads its bright wings only once a decade. Or that flower that stinks like rotting meat whenever it decides to bloom.”

You lounged on the luxurious, long white couch, surrounded by the opulence of the spacious living room. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room, its screen broadcasting the ominous news of a series of murders gripping the city. Intrigued, you set aside your magazine, your eyes fixed on the news anchor detailing the gruesome events.

As the reporter delved into the chilling details of the latest murder, your curiosity deepened. The atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken with tension as you absorbed the unsettling information. Just as you reached for the remote to increase the volume, your mother's departure interrupted the quietude.

"I'm leaving now. You be good and stay home, alright?" Your mother's voice echoed through the room as she fumbled through her purse. You assured your mother of your compliance, bidding her farewell and locking the door behind her.

Returning to the comfort of the couch, you crawled over the backrest, disregarding the conventional way around. The remote found its way back into your hands, and you switched through channels in search of something more captivating. Finding nothing of interest, you stood and strolled to the imposing shelf beside the TV, adorned with an array of movies and decorations.

Among the diverse collection, your hand settled on a horror movie: "Your Next." It promised a refreshing twist with a resourceful final girl, a detail that appealed to your taste. Ignoring the collateral damage of two neighboring DVDs collapsing, you retrieved the movie and inserted the disc into the TV slot.

Plopping back onto the couch, you pressed play, but the movie's ominous beginning prompted you to hit pause. Rising up you headed to the kitchen in pursuit of the perfect movie snack—popcorn. The cupboard held the desired item, but with your stature, reaching proved impossible. Unfazed, you fetched a little wooden stool, conquering the height disparity.

With the popcorn secured, you turned your attention to the microwave. Engrossed in the popping symphony, you momentarily forgot about the stool now awkwardly placed in your path. As you rounded the kitchen island, your phone's ring pierced the air, and your friend Yeji's name flashed on the screen.

Answering the call, you engaged in a conversation about the latest murder, Yeji's voice laden with concern. Popcorn still in hand, you dismissed Yeji's fears, attributing the killings to a random act of violence. Unbeknownst to you, a subtle unease settled in the air.

Returning to the kitchen, you fidgeted with the knives on the island, your gaze wandering as if searching for an unseen presence. A sudden feeling of being watched sent shivers down your spine. Instinctively, you closed the balcony doors, shutters, and curtains, dispelling the eerie sensation.

With the unsettling moment behind, you resumed your movie night preparations. You bid Yeji farewell as the microwave signaled the completion of your popcorn. Snacks in hand, you adjusted the living room's lighting to a dim, cozy ambiance, casting a warm glow over the elegant surroundings.

Sinking back into the couch, you kicked your feet up on the forbidden glass table, relishing the rebellious act in your mother's absence. You popped open an energy drink, took a sip, and draped a blanket over yourrself to ward off the slight chill. In your minimalistic attire of sweatpants and a tank top, you settled into the cocoon of comfort, ready for a night of horror and suspense.

The plush, velvety blanket cocooned you on the couch as you layed sprawled. The dim lighting accentuated the opulence of the living room, and the remnants of your movie night – an empty drink and a half-eaten bowl of popcorn – scattered around you. The film's climax was unfolding on the screen as the final girl realized the treacherous intentions of those around her. You, however, had succumbed to the captivating scenes, soft snores blending seamlessly with the movie's eerie soundtrack.

A faint buzzing noise pulled you back from the realm of dreams. You hummed, your eyes fluttering open as you surveyed the living room, the movie still playing out the tense chase scene. You yawned and stretched languidly, causing the blanket to slip off your shoulders. With a groan, you paused the movie, your gaze directed towards the empty drink can on the table. Realizing your phone was missing, you decided to investigate the source of the interruption.

In the kitchen, you retrieved your misplaced phone, its screen revealing an unknown caller. The call had ended before you could answer. Intrigued, you scrolled through your recent calls, curiosity piqued by the mysterious contact. Just as you was about to turn off your phone, the device lit up again, displaying "unknown caller."

Swiping to accept the call, you greeted the unknown voice with a simple, "Hello?"

"Hello, who is this?" The voice, smoky and melodic like honey, echoed through the phone.

"Well, who are you trying to reach?" You responded, settling back onto the couch.

"What number is this?" The voice continued, a hint of uncertainty in its tone.

"Well, what number are you trying to reach?" You countered, a playful smile touching your lips.

"I don't know," the voice admitted.

"Try the number again and see if you typed it correctly," You suggested, a playful smirk dancing on your face as you hung up. However, the persistent caller dialed again, and you felt a mix of annoyance and intrigue, answering once more.

"Hellooo?" You drawled out.

"I'm sorry; I guess I dialed the wrong number," the voice apologized.

"Then why did you dial it again?" You questioned.

"I just wanted to apologize," the man explained.

"Well, you are forgiven," You replied nonchalantly, popping a few more popcorn kernels into your mouth.

"Good to know," the man said. "Do you like scary movies?" he asked eventually, his voice oddly comforting.

You nodded, forgetting momentarily that the man couldn't see you. "Yes," you affirmed.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he teased.

"Hmm," You tapped your chin in mock contemplation before answering. "American Psycho."

"Is that the one with Christian Bale?" the man inquired.

"Yeah," You confirmed.

"So, you got a boyfriend?" he continued, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

"No," You huffed, the atmosphere shifting as the questions delved into personal territory.

"And why is that?" the man probed, his tone becoming more unsettling.

"Well, there isn't really anyone out there that has my attention," You replied, fidgeting with a loose thread on your pants.

"Really? Well, that's too bad," the man remarked, the conversation taking on a darker undertone.

"I knooow," You sighed, growing uneasy.

"What's your name?" he pressed further.

"Why do you want to know my name?" You questioned, sensing a growing discomfort in the exchange.

"Because I want to know who I am looking at," he said, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What did you say?" you asked, your voice tense.

"What did I say?" he feigned innocence.

"That's not funny," You replied, suddenly aware of your vulnerability. You began double-checking the security of your home, peeking through blinds and ensuring all doors were locked.

"Was it supposed to be?" he continued, the unsettling tone persisting.

"Well, I'm not laughing," You said, your voice shaky as you moved through the house, checking every nook and cranny.

"I'm not laughing either, princess," he remarked, a term that sent a chill down your spine.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"Well, you never gave me your name," he said, his voice taking on a sinister edge.

Your world seemed to freeze at the ominous tone. "I`m sorry, i have to go" you spat out, surveying your surroundings.

"Wait!" he urgently said.

Ignoring his plea, you hung up before swiftly ascended the stairs, your desire to secure your safety intensifying. You checked each locked door in your path, a heightened sense of urgency guiding your actions. When your phone rang again, you hesitated before answering.

"Hello?" you said, a tinge of anxiety in your voice.

"Why did you hang up? We were having a talk," the same voice echoed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Because the conversation was over on my end," you stated firmly.

"Hmm, harsh," he commented.

"Yeah, sure," you retorted, hanging up without further notice. You continued your security check, ensuring every door was securely locked. The phone continued to ring, but you silenced it, a growing sense of dread settling over you. The inability to block the unknown number only heightened your unease, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you was being watched, the shadows of your home concealing potential threats.

The unsettling tension gripped you as you navigated your home, checking each locked room, and securing your sanctuary against potential threats. The rhythmic ticking of the clock in the hallway mirrored the heavy beats of your anxious heart. You peeked into the bathroom, finding it locked, the silence within unnerving.

Advancing to your mother's bedroom, you discovered it similarly secured. The atmosphere grew thicker with each locked door, and your mind raced as you approached your own bedroom, finding it too impassable. The cold hallway seemed to close in on you, echoing your trepidation.

Your hesitant gaze fell to the phone you clutched in your hand, its screen illuminating with the persistent unknown caller.

At the fifth intrusive call, your patience snapped. Gritting your teeth, you accepted the call with a sharp, "What!?"

The man's threat reverberated through the line, his words laced with malice. "Listen here! If you hang up on me one more time, I will gut you like a fish! You hear me?!" his voice, now a raw growl, threatened violence.

"Oh yeah? Try me!" you retorted defiantly, hanging up once more. Determination flickered in your eyes as you steeled herself for whatever came next.

Just as you disconnected, a sudden, loud noise echoed from your mother's sewing room, freezing you in your tracks. Your phone, now silenced and nestled in your pocket, became an afterthought as your instincts screamed at you to tread carefully.

With deliberate steps, you tiptoed backward, avoiding the sewing room as if it held the secrets of your deepest fears. The muffled sounds behind the door only intensified your unease. You hesitated, your gaze darting around the hallway for any signs of intrusion.

Taking a calculated risk, you silently opened the nearest door, revealing your little brother's room. A wave of relief washed over you, grateful that he was away at a sleepover, shielded from the ominous events unfolding. With measured breaths, you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on a baseball bat tucked in a corner.

Your fingers closed around the familiar grip, and with resolute determination, you climbed into the closet. Leaving the shutters slightly ajar, you positioned yourself with a limited view outside. A hand pressed against your mouth, slowing your breaths as you braced for whatever loomed beyond your shelter.

The shadows played tricks in the dim light, and the palpable silence heightened your senses. Your mind raced with the possibility of an intruder in your home, the unsettling unknown leaving you shrouded in suspense. The baseball bat in your grasp became both a shield and a weapon, as you huddled in the closet, waiting, watching, and wondering about the source of the disturbance in your once-secure sanctuary.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you crouched in the closet, hidden behind boxes. The silence surrounding you was oppressive, punctuated only by the rhythmic cadence of your own heartbeat. The baseball bat felt strangely weightless in your grasp as you stayed huddled, each passing minute amplifying the weight of the unknown.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you noted the multiple missed calls from the mysterious man. The last futile attempt had been minutes ago, marking your solitary confinement within the closet for a staggering 15 minutes. The unnerving quiet had become a torment, a slow and relentless assailant on your sanity.

When the urge to escape finally beckoned, you hesitated. A distinct sound cut through the stillness — the bedroom door opening. Your pulse quickened, and you peeked out from the shutters, your eyes widening at the ominous figure that materialized. Towering, clad in a long black cloak with the hood obscuring any defining features, the intruder's presence exuded menace. Black combat boots and gloves, the latter gripping a gleaming hunting knife, completed the haunting ensemble. A white mask adorned the figure's face, an unsettling visage with a contorted expression that seemed to mock the gravity of the situation.

A cold shiver raced down your spine as the realization hit — this could be the killer responsible for the recent spree of murders. Was he truly after you?

You pressed a hand over your mouth, muffling your breaths, watching the masked assailant enter the room with predatory grace. His calculated steps conveyed a chilling confidence, the aura of a remorseless murderer.

You observed as the figure methodically searched the bedroom, scanning under the bed before approaching the closet. A curse echoed in your mind as the man neared your hiding place. With a mixture of fear and determination, you stood up and swung the baseball bat with all your might. A triumphant smile curled on your lips as the bat connected, eliciting a grunt of pain from the intruder who stumbled and fell to the ground.

Seizing the opportunity, you swiftly darted out of the bedroom and descended the stairs, your footsteps hurried but quiet. As you passed the living room, the horror movie still paused on the screen, another set of footsteps echoed behind you. The chase was on.

You raced around the kitchen island, leaping over the forgotten stool. Glancing back, you saw the masked figure closing the open cupboard door, only to trip over the stool, emitting a yelp and groan. It provided a brief respite for you to grab a knife from the table, your grip tightening around the handle.

The assailant rose, towering over you, his masked face betraying no emotions. Slowly, he circled the kitchen island, and you mirrored his movements, keeping a cautious distance. The gleaming hunting knife in his hand reflected danger, the blade promising pain.

"Stay away! Don't come any closer!" You shouted, but your warning fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, he lunged, grabbing your arm, the force causing you to drop the baseball bat. A sharp pain seared trough your arm as his knife sliced your forearm. A scream tore from your lips, and in desperation, you kicked the guy in the shin, gaining a momentary freedom.

With a quick slash, you retaliated, your knife finding its mark on the guy's arm and chest. A growl escaped the masked assailant as he twirled his knife, retaliating with slashes on your shoulder and arm. The pain intensified, and you cried in agony.

Undeterred, you sprinted into the living room, leaping over the backrest of the couch. Falling between the couch and the glass table, you grabbed a heavy ceramic decoration, regretting the inevitable damage to your mother's prized possession. With a forceful throw, the ornament hurtled towards the killer, shattering into a million pieces as he fell backward by the force of the throw.

"Shit!" You gasped as the guy uttered his first words. The voice was the same one from the phone, only in a clearer and younger tone now. A realization dawned on you– the killer was someone close to your age, likely another student. The revelation only intensified the horror of the situation as you braced yourself for the dangerous dance that continued to unfold in the dimly lit living room.

The living room became an arena of survival, the air heavy with tension as you and the hooded killer engaged in a deadly dance of cat and mouse. You clutched the kitchen knife tightly in your right hand, the blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. The masked assailant, armed with his hunting knife, circled you with predatory intent, the white mask revealing nothing of his emotions or identity, leaving you to wonder about the identity of the person beneath the facade.

Your eyes remained fixed on your adversary as you edged around the room, your movements cautious yet calculated. Every instinct screamed for you to stay on guard, to be ready for any sudden strike. The sound of your footsteps on the hardwood floor was drowned out by the echo of the silent confrontation.

The tension reached its peak when the hooded killer lunged forward, slashing his knife at you with swift precision. You deftly sidestepped the attack, the blade missing you by inches. Seizing the opportunity, you swung your own knife in a retaliatory strike, aiming for his side. The hooded figure skillfully evaded the blow, showcasing a deadly proficiency in the macabre dance.

You, fueled by a desperate determination to survive, utilized every inch of the living room to your advantage. You maneuvered around furniture, using the space to your benefit, constantly seeking openings to strike.

As the chase raged on, you spotted an opportunity. A discarded stool lay nearby. With a swift kick, you sent the stool sliding toward the hooded killer's feet, hoping to trip him up. The assailant stumbled, momentarily thrown off balance. It was your chance.

Your heart raced as you sprinted down to the basement, seeking refuge in the bunker your father had installed before his departure from the family. The cool metal door creaked open, and you rushed inside, pulling it shut behind your. The air in the bunker felt heavy with tension as you fumbled for your phone, your trembling fingers dialing the emergency number. You explained the chilling situation to the police dispatcher, your voice a mixture of fear and urgency.

As you waited on the line, the minutes stretched into an eternity. The cold silence of the bunker echoed the torment in your mind. Finally, you heard the distant knocking on the bunker door. The voice on the phone instructed you to open up, assuring you that it was a police officer. You cautiously checked the security camera feed on the bunker, confirming the presence of the officer. You ended the call, entered the code, and slowly opened the door.

"Hello, officer," You greeted, your voice strained. The female officer's eyes widened in shock as she took in your disheveled appearance. "Oh, you are in rough shape, young lady," she expressed, offering assistance. Together, you ascended the stairs to a scene of organized chaos – a swarm of police officers meticulously searching every inch of the house.

"He's not here. When we arrived, the house was empty. Looks like he ran when you went in the basement," the officer informed you, providing a small sense of relief. You nodded silently as you exited through the busted open door, a visual testament to the recent struggle of the police. The flashing lights of police cars painted the scene in red and blue hues.

Paramedics approached, tending to your wounds. Your attention, however, remained fixed on the commotion surrounding your home. Your mother's voice reached your ears as she ran towards you, worry etched across her face. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, embracing her daughter and checking you over. Your response was subdued, your thoughts still lingering on the harrowing encounter.

Kyungmin, your younger brother, approached with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, the innocence of his question contrasting sharply with the night's events. You gazed at him, exhausted and in pain as you shook your head. Kyungmin climbed onto the gurney beside you, and you pulled him into the safety of the blanket provided by the paramedics.

A familiar face interrupted the solemn moment – the news reporter from the TV. Microphone in hand, she approached, seeking an interview. Kyungmin, ever protective, spoke up on your behalf, sternly refusing the intrusion. A police officer intervened, guiding the persistent reporter away, sparing you from further distress.

As the news crew retreated, you closed your eyes, attempting to shut out the chaos around you. However, the haunting image of the hooded killer's mask flashed in your mind, a reminder that the scars of this night would linger in your nightmares. The weight of the encounter settled on your shoulders, leaving you to grapple with the trauma that now defined your reality.

The next morning, you awoke to the persistent beeping of the alarm clock, signaling the start of a day that you wished you could forget. As you sat up in the unfamiliar guest room at Yeji's house, you took a moment to absorb your surroundings. The room, while neatly arranged, felt foreign, lacking the familiarity of your own space.

Yeji and her family had generously offered shelter to you and your family after the horrifying visit from the hooded killer. The police had taken over your home for investigation, fearing the possibility of the assailant returning. You, plagued by nightmares, had spent a sleepless night, haunted by the haunting image of the white mask and the towering figure.

Rolling out of bed, you made a feeble attempt to make it, your mind still clouded with the remnants of your unsettling dreams. You changed into a simple white blouse, ripped jeans, and sneakers, the routine serving as a small distraction from the lingering fear. Descending the stairs, you found Yeji in the kitchen, flipping pancakes.

"Good morning, Y/n! How did you sleep?" Yeji greeted, her smile an attempt to bring warmth to the gloomy atmosphere.

"Terrible," you replied bluntly, your appetite diminished. You mechanically grabbed a pancake from the plate and nibbled on it, more out of habit than hunger.

Yeji, ever considerate, suggested, "You can try to sleep during lunch. I'll cover for you."

You shrugged in response. "Are we the only ones here?" you asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

"Uh-huh! My parents and your mother left for work, and your brother also left for school. So, we should head to school as well," Yeji explained, turning off the oven and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You wrapped the remaining pancakes in a foil wrapper, slinging your own bag over your shoulder as you made your way out to Yeji's car. The warm sunlight kissed your skin as they parked at school. However, your day took an unexpected turn as you approached the entrance and found a throng of newscasters eagerly waiting.

You and Yeji exchanged a worried look before approaching the spectacle. One of the popular girls, pointing towards you, caught the attention of the reporters. Cameras surged towards you, creating a chaotic scene that overwhelmed you. Yeji quickly pulled you away from the crowd, guiding you inside the school where the cool breeze of the air conditioning offered some relief.

"Thank you, Yeji," You muttered, still trying to steady your racing heart.

"You're welcome," Yeji replied, and the two of you walked to your lockers, ignoring the stares from other students, their whispers echoing in the hallway. The day had just begun, and you knew you would need to navigate the challenges that lay ahead, both inside the school and within yourself.

You and Yeji stood by the lockers, engrossed in a conversation when you felt an odd sensation, as if someone's eyes were burning into the back of your head. Turning slightly, you noticed Lee Heeseung, a fellow student from your biology class, standing against the lockers on the opposite side of the hallway.

Heeseung was dressed entirely in black, a black mask covering most of his face, leaving only his enigmatic eyes visible. His dark hair added an extra layer of mystery to his already imposing presence. Despite sharing the same class for two years, you and Heeseung had never exchanged a single word. His lack of communication with anyone outside his circle of friends made him an enigma. You had observed him talking only with his buddies, never participating in class discussions, and always presenting alone to the teacher`s during evaluations. It wasn't that he was mute; he simply chose not to talk.

Intrigued by this peculiar behavior, you couldn't help but find him captivating. You had noticed his striking features and the air of menace that surrounded him. Yet, no one dared to pick on him, possibly due to his good looks and the intimidating aura he exuded. A crush had developed, but you kept it to yourself, fearing rejection.

As you met Heeseung's penetrating gaze, you found yourself unable to look away. It was as if he could see through you, and you couldn't break free until Yeji's intervention snapped you back to reality.

"Y/n? You okay?" Yeji's concerned voice reached your ears.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just a little tired, that's all," You replied, closing your locker. You walked with Yeji to the next class, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Heeseung's continued stare, unyielding even when his friend, Jake, tried to engage him in conversation.

The day passed swiftly until lunchtime, where you and Yeji found solace on a secluded bench at the end of a quiet hallway. You rested your head on Yeji's lap while attempting to catch up on much-needed sleep. Thirty minutes later, you headed to the last class of the day – biology.

Taking your usual seats by the window, Yeji braided your hair while you absentmindedly doodled on your worksheet. The teacher droned on about anatomy and nerves, but most students were more interested in their own activities. Heeseung, occupied himself with a game on his computer, occasionally glancing at the teacher.

You, also slightly distracted, glanced at Heeseung through your computer screen. You snapped out of your daze when Yeji tugged on your braid a little too hard.

"Oops, sorry," Yeji whispered as she finished the braid.

You subconsciously touched the braid and looked down at your worksheet. Glancing at Heeseung, you noticed he was focused on his computer. The rest of the class passed without further incident, leaving you with a strange mix of curiosity and unease regarding Heeseung's enigmatic gaze.

You and Yeji parted ways at the school gate, each going in your own respective directions. "I'll see you home tonight, alright?" Yeji said, giving you a warm hug. "Yes, see ya," you replied, waving as Yeji disappeared into the crowd of students leaving the school grounds.

As you headed to your after-school activities, the day unfolded with the passage of time. When the clock struck 5 PM, you found yourself finishing up, the last to leave the building. The once bustling halls were now eerily empty as you made your way to the bathroom.

In the solitude of the restroom, you decided to freshen up. You unzipped your bag and applied some lip balm, preparing to accessorize with your favorite scarf. The black and white pattern of the scarf exuded a chic and classic vibe, and as you were about to tie it, a toilet flushed behind you. Your attention shifted to the stall, and a chill ran down your spine when you saw black combat boots beneath the door.

You stiffened, a sense of dread settling in as the stall door swung open. The haunting figure from your nightmares, the same one who had attacked you the day before, emerged. The hunting knife, now clean of your blood, gleamed ominously in his hand.

"You..." you began, but your words morphed into a scream as he lunged at you, pressing you against the cold restroom wall. The impact sent a jolt of pain through your head, but the real terror came when the knife approached your throat. Bracing for the impending pain, you closed your eyes, only to find yourself still intact.

"Open your eyes," the melodic yet sinister voice from the day before demanded. Slowly, you obeyed, meeting the menacing gaze of the white-faced mask. "It's you... you are the hooded killer," you stammered out, surprisingly steady despite the fear coursing through your veins.

"I prefer the name Ghostface, but yes. That's me," he replied coolly. The knife withdrew from your throat, replaced by his hand, the blade pointed dangerously close to your face as he gripped your chin. His hollowed eyes scrutinized you, and he hummed as if evaluating your uniqueness.

"You are different than the others," he muttered cryptically. Confused and afraid, you found yourself pulled closer to him. The proximity was overwhelming, his towering figure covering you completely. Just as the situation took a more threatening turn, you seized the opportunity to elbow him in the same spot you remembered from the previous night's struggle. The move worked, and he groaned, giving you a chance to escape.

Bolting out of the bathroom, you ran out of the school, fueled by adrenaline. Your legs carried you all the way to Yeji's house. Once inside the guestroom, you hid under the safety of the bedsheets, tears streaming down your face. The questions echoed in your mind – who was this Ghostface, and why had he come for you? Only later did you realize that your black and white scarf was missing, a tangible reminder of the encounter.

Ghostface`s POV:

Ghostface observed your movements from the shadows of the bathroom, hidden behind the stall door. He had anticipated your arrival, a sense of obsession driving him to seek you out once more. The thrill of the chase, the anticipation of seeing your face when the mask was revealed – it fueled his every move.

As you entered and began to freshen up, Ghostface couldn't help but revel in the proximity. The rhythmic pulse of his own excitement resonated beneath the pale mask. The mask, a mere facade that concealed the unsettling grin he felt beneath.

The black and white scarf caught his attention – an accessory he associated with you. The pattern, a visual echo of his fixation. A piece of you, he thought. In that moment, he felt a compulsion to possess it, to keep it close as a memento of this encounter.

When you realized his presence and screamed, Ghostface reveled in the fear he induced. The exhilaration surged as he pressed you against the cold wall, the metallic glint of the hunting knife dancing dangerously close to your throat. He watched you close your eyes, surrendering to the terror he wrought.

"Open your eyes," he commanded, wanting to savor the fear reflected in your gaze. The hollow sockets of the mask mirrored his emotions – a twisted dance between malevolence and obsession. He examined you closely, drawn to the nuances of your reaction.

You, surprisingly resilient, managed to escape his grip, Ghostface grunted in pain. The elbow strike had found its mark, the wound from the previous encounter throbbing beneath the black fabric of his costume. Yet, the pain was inconsequential compared to the thrill of the chase.

Impressed by your cunning, Ghostface couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. You had remembered the weakness he exposed the night before. He allowed himself a cold grin beneath the mask, admiring your resilience.

As you fled the scene, Ghostface reached for the scarf you had left behind. It lay on the ground, a symbol of your vulnerability. He picked it up, feeling the soft fabric in his gloved hands. A dark satisfaction enveloped him as he tucked it into his sleeve, a macabre trophy of his obsession with you. Later, as he changed out of the costume, he felt the wound reopen, the blood under the bandage a reminder of the dance between predator and prey. Yet, nothing could overshadow the twisted pleasure he derived from the encounter.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

The dinner table was a silent gathering, each scrape of utensils against plates echoing through the room. You sat with your family and Yeji's, your appetite lost in the weight of recent events. Pushing your food back and forth, you barely registered the mundane sounds of family dinner.

The doorbell interrupted the uneasy quiet, prompting Yeji's father to rise and welcome two unexpected guests. Police officers, their presence cast a somber mood over the room. "Hello, come in," Yeji's father invited. The officers' gaze turned to you, and with a curt nod from one of them, they addressed you. "Ready to go, Mrs. y/l/n?" You simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment, and followed the officers to their car, waving goodbye to your brother Kyungmin.

Seated in the back of the police car, you stared out of the window, watching the night pass by in a blur. The quiet journey took you to the police station, where the cold, sterile atmosphere greeted you. Zipping up your hoodie for warmth, you sat alone in a stark room, the minutes stretching into an eternity.

The interview was a chilling recount of the horrors you had faced. Finally, the clock on the wall revealed the lateness of the hour, nearing 1 AM. The same police officer who brought you in now drove you back, his partner strangely absent. Suddenly, a jolt rocked the car, prompting the officer to stop. "What was that?" You asked, concern in your voice. "I don't know, stay here," the officer commanded as he exited the vehicle, leaving you locked inside.

Unbeknownst to you, the officer had driven over a gruesome scene—a lifeless, bloodied body. As he knelt down to investigate, a swift strike ended his life. Ghostface emerged from the shadows, the thrill of the kill evident behind his mask. His eyes gleamed with a sinister delight as he looked at the two corpses.

You, oblivious to the horror unfolding outside, remained locked in the car, scrolling on your phone. But when you looked up the sudden appearance of Ghostface in the rearview mirror sent shivers down your spine. Frantically attempting to escape, you found yourself trapped as Ghostface circled the car, his gloved hand pressing the car keys.

With an aggressive pull, the door swung open, and you attempted to flee. Ghostface, however, was faster. He seized your ankle, and the glint of his knife traced a painful path down your calf. Your scream echoed in the night as you kicked free, running into the cold darkness. Ghostface, fueled by sadistic pleasure, pursued you, the chilling words hanging in the air, "Go ahead and run, princess.... It only makes it more fun for me."

You cursed under your breath as you realized the police car had stopped in the midst of a dense forest. Shadows loomed ominously, and the flickering moonlight cast an eerie glow through the twisted branches. The forest, a labyrinth of darkness, was the worst place to be pursued by a relentless killer. You ran past trees, stumbling over uneven ground, twigs slapping against your face as if nature itself conspired to impede your escape. Yet, you pressed on, ignoring the obstacles that sought to detain you, focusing solely on surviving the chilling pursuit.

In your frantic flight, you tripped over something soft, and you grunted as your palms scraped against the unforgiving ground. Turning around, you let out a horrified scream— you had stumbled upon a lifeless body. Ghostface emerged from the shadows, his ominous figure contrasting with the darkness of the forest. "Don't feel bad," he taunted. You snapped your gaze up at him, the fear in your eyes palpable. "Did..you kill them?" you stammered.

"Who else would?" Ghostface retorted with a chilling sarcasm that sent shivers down your spine. "But why?" You questioned, desperation etched in your voice. Ghostface, advancing closer, seemed almost amused. "Oh! You want to know my motive?" he mocked. "You know, I really don't know. Call it impulsivity, call it incidental. But for me?" He waved his knife theatrically. "It's just for fun." His voice dripped with a sinister tone that echoed through the dark expanse.

"You are crazy!" You exclaimed, your defiance cutting through the tension. Ghostface feigned hurt, responding, "Oh, now that's just hurtful, princess." You, angered by the name, insisted, "I said not to call me that!" Ghostface, undeterred, continued his twisted rambling, offering alternatives like "sweetheart," "baby," "sunshine," and "honey." You rejected each one with growing frustration.

"But that's no fun... Y/n," Ghostface announced, relishing the way your name rolled off his tongue. Clenching your fists, you felt vulnerable and exposed, alone in the heart of the foreboding forest. "This isn't supposed to be fun!" you shouted. Ghostface merely chuckled, declaring, "Well, it's fun for me."

As he lunged to attack, you instinctively ducked and darted past him, tears streaming down your face. His sinister voice echoed in your ears, "Run, run! I will always be right behind you!" Everywhere you looked, you saw him, a phantom in the shadows—behind a tree, perched on a rock. Your mind played tricks on you, every shadow morphing into a potential threat.

Gasping for breath, you collapsed on the asphalt of the road, tears blurring your vision. Gripping your chest, you felt a crushing weight. Your throat tightened, breaths came in ragged gasps, and your old wounds reopened, mingling with the fresh gash on your leg. Overwhelmed, you succumbed to a panic attack. The only illumination came from the vacant police car, casting an isolated glow on you amidst the darkness.

Voices and another set of headlights pierced through the night as another car approached. As the darkness claimed your consciousness, exhaustion took over, and the traumatic ordeal drew to a temporary close.

Heeseung`s POV

Heeseung entered his house, greeted by the sight of his father slouched in the armchair, oblivious to the world, drowned in the stupor of alcohol. The flickering TV cast a pale glow on the worn-out carpet, showcasing some mindless commercial. Heeseung felt a twinge of resentment towards his father, a lingering disdain for the man who had remained after his mother's departure. Yet, beneath the layers of frustration, there lingered a reluctant sense of caring, however faint.

Tired of the oppressive atmosphere, Heeseung ascended the stairs, seeking refuge in the solace of his bedroom. The click of the lock echoed in the silence, shutting out the world beyond. Slinging his bag onto the bed, he removed his hoodie, letting it join the discarded laundry. The red-stained bandages peeked through as he peeled off his t-shirt, revealing evidence of wounds that had reopened that day.

A determined resolve etched on his face, Heeseung stood before the mirror. The vivid red of his bandages against the pale of his skin hinted at the violence he had unleashed. Swift and skilled, he rewrapped the bandages with practiced efficiency, ensuring the wounds were concealed once more. Fresh clothes replaced the discarded ones, and with a meticulous routine, he zipped open his bag.

The ghostface costume emerged, stained with the evidence of his actions. Heeseung soaked it, allowing the water to wash away the blood and sweat, leaving no trace of his grim deeds. The hunting knife, an extension of his malevolence, was cleansed under a resolution that eradicated any lingering residue under the unforgiving UV rays.

Then, he delicately pulled out the scarf, a token of his encounter with you. The soft material caressed by his fingertips, a reminder of a night that had sparked something unfamiliar within him. Collapsing onto his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, the walls adorned with posters from games and horror movies. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing thoughts of you to fill his mind.

As slumber claimed him, a subtle smile lingered on his face, an unsettling contrast to the darkness that surrounded him.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Your eyes fluttered open, and the harsh hospital lights made you wince. Panic seized you as the memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Before the fear could fully consume you, a calming hand and a familiar voice reached out to you.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Yeji's voice reassured you, and you turned your head to see your friend by your side.

"Yeji? Where am I? What happened?" Your voice was shaky, the events of the night still lingering in your consciousness.

"You're in the hospital. We found you on the ground... was it him again?" Yeji's concern was evident in her eyes as you slowly settled back onto the bed. The sterile scent and the hum of medical equipment around you became more apparent.

"Yeah... it was," you admitted, your gaze falling to the IV in your arm. Vivid images of the killer and the police officer's death replayed in your mind.

"We know, we know. The cops have taken care of everything," Yeji explained, attempting to offer some comfort.

"Yeji... why is he doing this... to me?" your plea held a mix of confusion and desperation as you sought answers from your friend.

"I don't—" Yeji began, but her words were interrupted by another voice entering the room.

"It's because you're a badass!" Kyungmin, your younger brother, announced as he bounded into the room. He climbed onto the chair beside your bed, his eyes filled with admiration.

"What?" you looked at him in surprise.

"Think about it! In every scenario, the victims die, but you have survived every single encounter! You're the final girl, sis! You'll kill him and live on to tell the tale!" Kyungmin explained with unbridled excitement.

"Kyungmin... how do you know so much about horror movies?" Yeji asked, attempting to redirect the conversation.

"Oh... well... we have them, and..." Kyungmin began, but you tuned out their conversation. Your mind was focused on the realization your brother had presented.

When Ghostface had first come after you, he wasn't prepared for your resourcefulness and determination to fight back. Despite multiple encounters, he hadn't succeeded in taking your life. He toyed with you, savoring the chase. You took a deep breath, absorbing the truth. You was the final girl. A surge of determination welled within you, replacing the fear with a fierce resolve to confront the hooded killer once and for all.

Days blurred together for you as you layed in the hospital bed, recovering from the harrowing events that unfolded. Yeji, being the devoted friend she was, visited daily, bringing both updates on school life and a mountain of homework. The constant drone of the television in the corner of the room kept the atmosphere heavy, each news report recounting the horrifying murders that had taken place.

You winced every time the name "Ghostface" echoed through the speakers. The news anchors dramatized your survival story, casting you as a resilient heroine in the face of unspeakable horror. The relentless coverage gnawed at your nerves, replaying the trauma with every broadcast.

One afternoon, as the news segment started, Yeji seized the opportunity to bring some normalcy to the room. With a swift movement, she turned off the TV and turned towards you.

"No TV now, we have a test to study for, and you need to know this when you get released from here," Yeji declared, holding a biology textbook in her hands. "Now eat your pudding while I read chapter 13 to you."

You grumbled, your mood not the brightest, but you obediently took a spoonful of the pudding the nurse had brought in. Yeji, undeterred, began firing questions from the textbook, ensuring you kept up with the coursework despite the challenging circumstances.

As Yeji read, the words of biology mingled with the beeping of machines and the occasional murmur from other patients. The room transformed into a makeshift classroom, a haven from the chaos outside its walls.

Heeseung/Ghostface`s POV:

Heeseung slumped in his biology class, your empty seat serving as a constant reminder of your absence. The room felt colder, the air heavier, and his restlessness intensified with every passing minute. The usual banter and whispers of the students around him seemed distant, drowned out by the void left in your wake.

His internal conflict manifested in a sharp edge to his demeanor. When a girl approached him, attempting to initiate a conversation, he reacted with an uncharacteristic harshness, pushing her away without a second thought. He needed to be alone, away from the prying eyes and casual interactions that only accentuated his yearning for your presence.

Heeseung abruptly left the classroom, making his way to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he flung his bag on the cold, tiled floor, the clatter echoing in the small space. With an impatient pull, he yanked off his mask, revealing a face twisted with frustration as he glared at his own reflection in the grimy mirror.

The internal turmoil was eating at him. He missed you more than he had anticipated, and it bothered him on a visceral level. The need to see you, to hear you, to be close to you, clawed at his chest like a relentless beast. It was a sensation he couldn't easily dismiss, a yearning that fueled his restlessness.

With a frustrated groan, Heeseung unleashed his anger on the bathroom stall. A violent kick sent the door crashing into the wall, leaving an unmistakable dent. For a moment, the physical release offered a semblance of satisfaction, but the ache persisted.

Regaining composure, Heeseung gathered his belongings, pulling the mask back into place. He left the bathroom, his tardiness to class a consequence he was willing to accept in exchange for the futile attempt to quell the storm of emotions within him. The hospital, where you resided, loomed in his thoughts like a magnetic force, drawing him closer with each passing second.

Ghostface lingered outside the hospital in the cool night, shadows cloaking his figure as he observed the changing of the nurses. With calculated precision, he navigated the terrain, making his way toward the entrance. A gentle nudge opened the glass door, and he slipped in, avoiding detection as he roamed through the silent hallways.

Peeking through a hand mirror, he strategically eliminated the nurses, each swift kill leaving a trail of lifeless bodies in his wake. The hospital became a dark canvas painted with the aftermath of his murderous spree. A sinister whistle beckoned a lone nurse towards him, her fate sealed with a quick, silent demise.

Ghostface moved with chilling efficiency, silencing doctors and nurses alike, his path leading him to the second floor. In the dimly lit hallway, he encountered a lone doctor, oblivious to the danger closing in. The knife struck, ending the doctor's life, adding one more casualty to the night's symphony of death.

Room 104, the destination imprinted on Ghostface's mind. With stealth and malevolence, he approached the door, a predator seeking its prey. Slowly creaking it open, he peered inside, revealing you asleep on the bed, Yeji on a chair beside you. Ghostface hesitated, his knife poised for the strike, but something in your peaceful slumber gave him pause.

A twisted fascination held Ghostface captive as he studied your sleeping face. Unbeknownst to him, Yeji stirred and gasped, her eyes widening with terror. Swiftly, Ghostface redirected his attention, raising his knife. A sudden movement caught his peripheral vision, and he turned to see you waking up.

"No... please," You whispered, your voice a plea in the night. Ghostface lowered his weapon, momentarily captivated by the desperation in your eyes. It was a fleeting moment before he turned and, with a brutal efficiency, stabbed Yeji, silencing her pleas. The room became a stage for a cruel dance of violence.

As Ghostface tossed Yeji aside, he realized you had vanished from the bed. A thrill coursed through him, and he pursued you down the dimly lit hallway. Your panicked breaths echoed, the chase heightening the tension. You darted into a room, and Ghostface followed.

Closing and locking the door behind him, he taunted, "Come out, come out, wherever you are, princess. I know you are here." You, hidden behind boxes, held your breath, fear etched across your face. Ghostface continued his macabre game, attempting to coax you out with promises of conversation.

When you remained silent, he sighed, "Come on, princess. Come out, and we can talk like adults." As he approached, you lunged, wrapping yourself around his back. A violent struggle ensued, you desperately fighting for your life. Ghostface slammed you against the wall, causing you to release your grip.

Turning to face you, he seized your wrists, pinning them above your head. In the dimly lit supply closet, Ghostface loomed over you, relishing the terror in your eyes. "There you are," he whispered, a sinister grin beneath the mask. You whimpered as he silenced you with a hand over your mouth. "Shhh. We can't have anyone waking up and disturbing our sweet time together now, can we?" he mused, his voice dripping with malevolence. "I just had to see you, princess," he added, a cruel fascination gleaming in his eyes.

Ghostface had been studying you, relishing in the desperation that flickered in your eyes after days of separation. The ache of missing you had grown unbearable. So caught up in his twisted fascination, he didn't notice when you unleashed a swift knee to his groin. The pain jolted through him, and he staggered back, momentarily incapacitated.

Seizing the opportunity, you fled, unlocking the door and making your way down the stairs and out of the hospital. Outside, you paused to catch your breath, relief washing over you. However, your momentary respite was shattered when you looked up and gasped. Ghostface loomed in your hospital room, holding Yeji with a knife to her throat.

Fear gripped you, and you cried out, rushing back inside, disregarding the lifeless bodies scattered around. As you reached your hospital room, you opened the door cautiously. The only sight that greeted you was Yeji on the ground, unconscious but seemingly unharmed. However, your moment of relief was short-lived.

A knife pressed against your back, and an arm coiled around your chest. Ghostface's voice, a sinister whisper, cut through the air. "I knew you'd be back when you saw your precious friend helpless."

Frustration welled within you. "What do you want with me? If you wanted to kill me, you would have done so!"

No answer came from Ghostface, and you strained to catch a glimpse of him through the corner of your eye. The mask revealed nothing, only his steady breaths. A chilling silence lingered before he spoke again, his voice devoid of emotion. "I just wanted to see you."

With an abrupt release, Ghostface pushed you away. You scrambled to the side, your eyes wide as you realized he had disappeared. The unnerving encounter left you perplexed, but your concern shifted back to Yeji. Clambering over, you checked Yeji's pulse and breathed a sigh of relief at the reassuring signs of life. The inexplicable motive of Ghostface remained a haunting mystery.

A full week had passed since Yeji and you were discharged from the hospital, which had been grappling with a significant loss of staff. Unbeknownst to you, surviving encounters with Ghostface had turned the two of you into unwilling celebrities, your stories circulating through hushed whispers and frightened glances.

You, especially, wanted no part of this unwanted popularity. After finishing your school day, you walked to your car and drove to the mall, seeking solace in the mundane routine of shopping. You wandered through the mall, your hood pulled over your head, two shopping bags in hand. Amid the hustle and bustle, a notification chimed on your phone, drawing your attention. Unaware of your surroundings, you collided with someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" you exclaimed, stepping back. When you looked up, you realized you had crashed into Heeseung. He stood there, clad in jeans and a black hoodie, his own hood covering most of his face except for his piercing eyes. A black medical mask concealed the lower half of his face.

"No worries!" Jake, who stood beside Heeseung, chimed in. "Hey, you're Y/n!" he added.

"Yeah, that's me," You replied, a hint of confusion in your voice. Heeseung remained silent, his eyes fixed on you. The air thickened with an unspoken tension, leaving you to wonder about the thoughts hidden behind Heeseung's enigmatic gaze.

Jake leaned down with a friendly smile, resembling a puppy eager for attention. "Hey, it's totally cool if you don't wanna, but there's a small party tonight at my house. If it sparks some interest, just hit me up, and I'll text you the address," he said.

You hummed, looking at him. "Eh, sure... I'll think about it. Thanks," you replied.

"Oh, is that Candyman!?" Jake added, peeking into your shopping bag and spotting the horror movie disc. "You like horror movies?" he asked.

You glanced down at your shopping bag and then back up at Jake, nodding. "Have you seen it?" you inquired.

"Sure, I have! The killer and victim falling in love with each other? That's a new one in horror, if you ask me. It was refreshing!" Jake said.

"Sure," You replied. However, your attention shifted when you noticed Heeseung extending his hand, his fingers curled into a fist. Perplexed, you looked at him with confusion. Heeseung then opened his palm, revealing a heart-shaped chocolate, and nudged it toward you.

"That means it's for you," Jake explained.

"Oh, thank you," You said, blushing lightly as you took the chocolate from Heeseung. Your fingers brushed, and you couldn't help but notice the warmth of Heeseung's skin. The size difference between the chocolate in his hand and yours intrigued you. Before you could say more, Jake ushered Heeseung away.

"Well, you think about the party today! It was nice meeting you," Jake called back as he guided Heeseung toward the gaming store.

"Yeah, you too," you muttered to yourself. You looked down at the chocolate, opened the wrapper, and popped it into your mouth, savoring the unexpectedly delicious taste of caramel. With a shrug, you tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash can and continued with your shopping, thoughts of the party lingering in your mind.

Heeseung`s POV:

Heeseung stood near the entrance of the mall, his attention lost in his thoughts as the world passed by. A sudden impact jolted him, and he instinctively prepared to glare at the perpetrator. However, when his eyes met yours all traces of irritation dissipated, replaced by a sense of fascination.

You mumbled an apology, your voice weaving a sense of normalcy into his troubled world. As you engaged in conversation with Jake, Heeseung found himself feeling strangely giddy, observing you act so effortlessly regular. Little did you know that he was the unseen cause of the disturbance in her life, a hidden figure orchestrating chaos from the shadows.

His focus shifted to the interaction between you and Jake, and a subtle warmth filled his chest. He watched as you accepted the heart-shaped chocolate from him, your fingers briefly brushing in the exchange. The touch sent a pleasant tingle down his spine, leaving him with a subtle, lingering joy.

Jake pulled him away toward the gaming store, and Heeseung went willingly, turning his gaze back for a moment to observe you. From afar, he witnessed you unwrap the chocolate and take a bite, his heart lifting with happiness. A smile, hidden beneath the mask, crept onto his face. The only indication of his joy was the gentle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a silent expression of contentment as he continued to watch from the shadows.

The room Heeseung was in was dimly lit, the atmosphere carrying an air of calculated calmness. He opened the closet, concealing the bag with the Ghostface costume and the hunting knife with meticulous care. As the door closed, the concealed items seemed to vanish into the shadows. Heeseung's focus shifted to the clothes he had recently purchased, the jeans hugging his legs, a black t-shirt embracing his frame, and a leather jacket adding a touch of mystery. A quick slick of his hair back completed the transformation.

He walked out of the room, leaving behind the ghost of his darker intentions. The party preparations were already underway, and Heeseung joined Jake, Jay, Niki, Jungwon, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and their other friends. Working together, they transformed the space into a lively venue, laughter and music echoing through the walls.

Heeseung chose not to return home; there was nothing for him there. His father, a haunting figure from his past, rested in the depths of a secluded forest, far removed from prying eyes. Today marked the culmination of his plans, and your presence at the party was an unexpected yet welcomed development.

As the festivities commenced, people streamed in, each face a blur of insignificance to Heeseung. He maintained his aloof demeanor, detached from the jovial conversations around him. In the midst of the crowd, he waited patiently, his attention fixed on the entrance, anticipating the arrival of the one person who truly mattered to him.

Your POV:

You and Yeji moved with a silent synchronicity, your stealthy escape from the house guided by the allure of the unknown night. Dressed in contrasting styles, Yeji embraced chic elegance, while you opted for black jeans paired with a red off-shoulder top. The two of you ventured into the world outside, leaving behind the constraints of parental knowledge.

The party pulsated with life as you arrived, the atmosphere thick with the scent of alcohol, drugs, and the perspiration of dancing bodies. The booming music enveloped you as you navigated through the crowd. Yeji found her boyfriend, disappearing into the sea of people, leaving you to explore the chaotic beauty of the gathering on your own.

With a drink in hand, you claimed a vacant spot on a couch. It was an unconventional choice, sharing the space with a couple too engrossed in each other to notice your presence. As you sipped your drink, you observed the rhythmic movements on the dance floor, losing yourself in the pulsating beats.

Your gaze wandered, and unexpectedly, it met Heeseung's. For the first time, the black mask was absent, revealing the entirety of his face. You found yourself captivated by his handsome features, his sharp lines softened by the absence of the usual disguise. You chewed on your bottom lip, unknowingly drawn into an observation that felt both intrusive and intimate.

Heeseung, engaged in conversation with Sunghoon, eventually turned his head. As his eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze was palpable. You, caught off guard, quickly averted your eyes, the unexpected connection leaving you both intrigued and uneasy.

Heeseung`s POV:

Heeseung's attention wavered as he conversed with Sunghoon, a subtle force pulling at him, urging him to look elsewhere. And when he did, his eyes found you in the crowd. The chaotic surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only you in his field of vision.

A strange sensation bloomed in Heeseung's chest, an unfamiliar warmth that spread through him. The sight of you stirred something within him, a desire to sweep you away from the prying eyes of the party and offer you everything he had, the entirety of his world.

A smirk played on Heeseung's lips as he locked eyes with you. He raised his drink to his lips, savoring the liquid as he continued to gaze at you, a silent promise lingering in the air.

Heeseung confidently placed his finished drink on the table and strolled past the dancing floor, heading straight toward you. The glances from his friends, filled with confusion, didn't deter him. A quick glance at his wristwatch made him grin. He had time.

Stopping in front of you, he extended his hand and gestured towards the dancing floor. At your initial hesitation, he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning. You, after putting down your own drink, took his hand. He licked his lips before gently pulling you towards the dancing floor.

As you danced, Heeseung encouraged you with smiles, and to his surprise, you started to move with more confidence. He grinned and, seizing the opportunity, placed his hands on your waist. The synchronization between you two was so natural that you didn't notice a growing circle of people around you, cheering and hyping you up.

The dance reached its climax when Heeseung gripped you, spinning you around before ending with a dramatic pose – him holding you in a dip. The applause and cheers from the crowd engulfed you, but in that moment, Heeseung and you seemed to exist in your own world, your eyes locked, both of you catching your breaths.

Heeseung lifted you up again with a playful grin before backing away. The music abruptly stopped, and everyone turned their attention to Jay, who held the microphone.

"I just got news that the principal is stuck up by the flagpole at school!" Jay announced, and the crowd erupted in excitement, rushing out of the house to witness the unexpected spectacle.

Your POV:

Your surprise flickered across your face when you noticed someone standing in front of you. However, as Heeseung came into view, that initial surprise morphed into a different kind of astonishment. When he extended his hand, asking you to dance, you hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the lively atmosphere. The music pulsed through the air, beckoning you to join in the fun.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you accepted Heeseung's hand and joined him on the dance floor. As the rhythm took over, you grinned, noticing the surprise in Heeseung's expression. The music became a bridge, connecting you in a dance that felt surprisingly natural. You felt good dancing with Heeseung, the movements easy and fluid.

The dance reached its peak, and you ended with a pose that left you mesmerized, locking eyes with Heeseung. It was a moment suspended in time until Jay's announcement shattered the spell. The shocking news about the principal by the flagpole sent a wave of confusion through the crowd, and the house emptied with lightning speed.

You stood there, shocked, watching the sudden exodus. The party had dissipated in an instant, leaving you alone in the now-quiet room. Your gaze searched for Heeseung, only to find that he, too, had vanished along with the rest of the revelers.

The flickering light of the TV cast a surreal glow over the room as the stragglers from the party settled in to watch Train to Busan. You, initially indifferent, sat beside Yeji, who had pleaded with you to stay. The remaining company included Yeji's boyfriend Jiyoo, Doyun, Beomseok, and Byeol—classmates whom you recognized but didn't particularly engage with.

As the movie unfolded on the screen, Beomseok began a vociferous rant, berating the film's intelligence and boastfully claiming he'd easily survive a horror movie. Doyun, unnoticed by the others, vanished in pursuit of a beer, only to meet his demise at Ghostface's hands in the kitchen.

Byeol, prompted by a call from his concerned mother, left the gathering, unknowingly walking towards his fatal encounter with Ghostface, his life brutally ended in his own car.

Feeling the need to escape the awkwardness of the situation, you excused yourself, heading upstairs in search of the bathroom. Locking yourself in, you remained oblivious to the unfolding bloodshed until a piercing scream echoed through the house. Startled, you rushed downstairs, only to be met with a nightmarish scene.

Jiyoo lay lifeless on the floor, Yeji wailing in grief, and Beomseok standing beside her, bloodied and wounded, wielding a pan in defense. Beomseok, acknowledging your presence, blamed you for the chaos, proclaiming that your mere presence had attracted the crazed Ghostface. However, the sudden sound of a gunshot silenced him as he fell backward, shot by an unseen assailant.

Turning towards the kitchen, your eyes widened at the sight of Ghostface—his mask smeared with blood, holding a knife and a gun. The gun was now pointed at you, and you instinctively raised your hands in surrender.

"Please..." Yeji pleaded, fear evident in her tear-filled eyes.

Ghostface disregarded Yeji and turned his masked visage toward you, his eyes hidden behind the haunting expression. "You really are a gem, do you know that, sweetheart?" he remarked, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. "You know, when I first broke into your house, I wanted to end you," he continued, the weight of his words settling like a suffocating blanket, "but afterwards? I came to the realization that I don't want to kill you."

A mixture of confusion and terror clouded your expression as you ventured, "Then... what do you want to do?"

An airy laugh escaped Ghostface's concealed mouth, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to be mine forever," he declared, the words hanging in the air like a sinister melody.

"What...?" You uttered, unable to conceal the fear in your voice.

Ghostface chuckled, "So let me make you a deal. If you come with me right now, I will leave your friend alive. Your choice."

The gravity of the decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your gaze flickered between Yeji, still engulfed in sorrow, and the masked figure before you. The room seemed to close in, the silence punctuated only by the muffled sobs of Yeji. In that harrowing moment, you grappled with an impossible choice, the consequences echoing through the chilling laughter of the masked assailant.

Before you could comprehend the gravity of his words, a shot rang out, and Ghostface vanished into hiding. A police officer, responding to a noise complaint, entered the scene, providing momentary relief. Another officer appeared in the doorway, and you felt a surge of gratitude.

However, the relief was short-lived. The first officer, in a moment of panic at seeing Ghostface peek out behind the wall, began firing indiscriminately. The room descended into chaos, and your, eyes wide with horror, witnessed the accidental demise of your friend. Yeji's lifeless body lay on the ground, a casualty of the very protectors who were supposed to ensure safety.

In shock, you stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. The cop who inadvertently caused the tragedy looked on in horror, realizing the magnitude of the mistake.

The air crackled with tension, and the scent of blood lingered like an ominous premonition. Your tear-filled eyes remained fixed on Yeji's lifeless form, an overwhelming grief tightening your chest.

In the midst of the disarray, two sudden, deafening gunshots pierced the air. The cops, caught off guard, crumpled to the floor- dead. The room fell into shocked silence, broken only by Ghostface's eerie chuckle. Emerging from the shadows, he stepped over the fallen officers, his dark cloak billowing like a phantom in the night.

Ghostface's masked gaze shifted from the lifeless bodies to you. He shook his head in a feigned disappointment. "See what happens when you don't trust me, princess? Now your friend is dead." The callous words cut through the air, leaving you speechless as fresh tears streamed down your face.

Crouching down beside you, Ghostface tutted disapprovingly. He reached out, his gloved hand cupping your chin, wiping away tears with a scrap of his cloak. "Don't cry, my love," he whispered, his voice a chilling murmur. "I would hate to ruin your pretty mascara."

Your tear-streaked face, illuminated by the flickering lights of police cars in the distance, revealed the toll of the horror you had witnessed. As exhaustion overcame you, your body gave in, and you collapsed against the masked figure, your breaths shallow and ragged. Exhausted and broken, you could only muster silent sobs, as you succumbed to the darkness.

Ghostface's voice, a chilling contrast to the chaos that had unfolded, whispered reassurance to the shattered girl in his arms. "Oh, my poor dear... Don't worry. I will take good care of you, my precious gem." His words, seemingly soothing, echoed with an unsettling promise as he gently lifted you from the blood-stained scene, cradling you like a fragile doll.

Guiding you towards a hidden car, Ghostface laid you down in the backseat with a tenderness that contradicted the violence that had transpired moments ago. The muted glow of the streetlights illuminated his masked visage as he carefully arranged you, the weight of your unconscious form a reminder of the darkness that clung to him.

Returning to the house, Ghostface, a master of deception, meticulously staged the aftermath. Beomseok's lifeless body was draped in the iconic Ghostface costume, a macabre transformation that would divert any lingering suspicions. The scene bore the haunting imprint of a horror movie set, with the pale moonlight casting eerie shadows over the distorted reality he had crafted.

Having completed his sinister tableau, Ghostface returned to the idling car. Opening the door with a sense of purpose, he found you still lost in the refuge of unconsciousness. Ghostface slid into the driver's seat, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel with a steely resolve.

As the car glided away from the crime-ridden suburban tableau, Ghostface's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, a sinister smile hidden beneath the mask. The darkened highway stretched out before him, leading to the next town.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

The groggy haze began to lift from your mind as you slowly awoke in an unfamiliar bed. You winced, feeling a dull ache throughout your body, and a groan escaped your lips as you sat up. The room around you was dimly lit, and the bed you found yourself on was surprisingly comfortable.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, and a sudden wave of realization hit you. Memories of the horrifying events from the night before flooded back, and your heart sank. Yeji, your friend, was dead, and Ghostface had taken you.

Your hands gripped the edge of the table beside the bed as a heart-wrenching sob threatened to escape. You couldn't comprehend the nightmare you had become a part of.

A note on the table caught your attention, and you read the ominous message. "Fresh clothes in the closet, take a shower princess." The word 'princess' sent shivers down your spine, and your eyes widened with dread. Nevertheless, you gathered yourself and steeled your resolve.

Waddling towards the door, you tried the handle, only to find it locked. Frustration and fear fueled your determination. You gritted your teeth and surveyed the room for another way out. Spotting another door, you cautiously approached and turned the handle, revealing a surprisingly luxurious bathroom.

The sight of the pristine facilities contrasted sharply with the terror of the previous night. Taking a deep breath, you decided to follow the note's instructions. You crumpled the note in your hand, a silent rebellion against the unseen captor, before locking the bathroom door behind you.

The hot water cascaded over you, washing away the physical and emotional stains of the previous night. You lingered, lost in your thoughts, as if the water could cleanse you of the horror you had experienced.

Emerging from the shower, you found the promised clothes in the closet. A pair of pants and a warm sweater offered some comfort in this strange place. You dressed quickly, your mind racing with uncertainty and fear.

Once again facing the locked door, you sighed. The feeling of entrapment settled in your chest, but you pushed it aside, determined to confront whatever awaited you beyond that door. With one last glance around the room, you returned to the bed and sat, bracing yourself for whatever came next.

When the door to the bedroom clicked open, you cautiously pushed it ajar. Peering into the adjacent spaces, you found yourself in a kitchen with a faint aroma of something cooking. To your right, a living room unfolded, and in its midst sat Ghostface, the embodiment of your nightmares. Yet, he appeared different—regular jeans, a black t-shirt, and the ominous Ghostface mask, casually manspreading in a chair, hands resting comfortably on his lap. The mask concealed his expression, leaving you to grapple with the mystery of the man who had brought you here.

"Come on out, princess," his voice rumbled, carrying the roughness of a morning awakening. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes fixed on the mysterious figure. You cautiously stepped forward, closing the bedroom door behind you. The click of the lock echoed in the room, and Ghostface gestured for you to come closer.

With hesitance in your steps, you moved towards him, your eyes flickering between the enigmatic mask and the man beneath it. Ghostface didn't rush you, his posture remaining relaxed as if he had all the time in the world.

But as you approached, his strong hands shot out, gripping your waist, and he effortlessly pulled you onto his lap. "There you are," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, as if this was an ordinary encounter.

You stiffened, gazing into the mask that concealed his identity. The weight of the question lingering in your eyes, you asked, "Who are you? Why did you do this to me?"

"Oh, my love," he replied, his voice softening, "I told you it's because I love you." Before you could react, his hands moved to the secure straps of the mask. Holding your breath, you watched as he unclasped the clasps, removing the Ghostface mask and tossing it aside. A gasp escaped your lips as Heeseung's handsome and sharp face was revealed.

"Heeseung!?" you exclaimed, the shock evident in your voice. The revelation left you speechless. "You're Ghostface?"

"Yes, I am," Heeseung confirmed, his grip on you firm but gentle. "And you are mine." With those words, he pulled you in for a kiss. You gasped at the unexpected intimacy. Conflicting emotions swirled within you—your long-time crush, Heeseung, was kissing you.

You felt an unexpected surge of warmth and a fluttering sensation deep in your stomach. Your heart and brain seemed to engage in a silent battle, each demanding you attention with conflicting emotions.

The warmth of the kiss sent a cascade of conflicting signals through you. On one hand, there was the undeniable thrill of being kissed by someone you had secretly admired for so long. His lips, warm and tender, pressed against yours, creating a sensory overload that your heart eagerly embraced.

But then your brain, the logical part of you, fought back with a barrage of questions and concerns. This was the same person who had, just moments ago, been hidden behind the Ghostface mask, the person who had orchestrated nights of terror that ended in tragedy. The internal struggle intensified, causing a whirlwind of emotions that left you momentarily disoriented.

Yet, despite the internal conflict, the kiss itself was undeniably magnetic. Heeseung's gentle caresses and the way he held you close seemed to overpower the rational part of your mind. The butterflies in your stomach danced, and for that brief moment, the chaos within you was silenced by the intoxicating allure of the kiss.

As Heeseung deepened the kiss, while his hands caressed your waist, your heart won the internal battle, and you reciprocated the kiss with fervor. Your thoughts became a distant murmur, and you surrendered to the swirling emotions, letting the warmth and intimacy of the moment envelop you.

Heeseung smirked in the midst of the passionate embrace, his hands wrapped around you, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. Your lips met in a fervent dance, an intimate tango that seemed to defy the boundaries of time and reason. You felt the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his fingers on your hips, and the magnetic pull that seemed to bind you two together.

With a newfound boldness, you tightened your grip on Heeseung's shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric as if grounding yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rhythmic dance of your lips became a symphony of shared longing, and you found yourself unable to resist exploring further.

Slipping your hands up from his shirt to his cheeks, you savored the sensation of his skin beneath your fingertips. The kiss grew more passionate, and in an unspoken exchange, you let your fingers trace the contours of his face, memorizing the details that had long been masked by the ominous masks.

Your hands continued their journey, winding through Heeseung's hair. The once neatly styled locks now fell victim to your eager touch, tousled and disheveled by your exploring fingers. His hair, soft and slightly damp from a shower, felt soft beneath your touch.

As you pulled back from the kiss, you found yourself breathless, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the shared moment. Yet, when you gazed into Heeseung's eyes, you discovered a hunger, an unquenchable longing that mirrored your own conflicted emotions.

Heeseung, with his hair tousled from the passionate exchange, stared at you with a mixture of love and obsession. His puffy, red lips, moistened by the flick of his tongue, spoke volumes of the desire that lingered between you two. The air was charged with tension as he chased after your lips. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Undeterred by your withdrawal, Heeseung redirected his attention, placing lingering kisses along your jawline and down to your neck. His actions were filled with a possessive urgency, a declaration of the emotions that simmered beneath the surface. However, a low growl escaped him when you, using your grip on his tousled hair, pulled him back.

With a pout that accentuated the desire in his eyes, Heeseung looked up at you. His hands, now caressing up and down your sides, ventured down to your hips, fingers tracing the curves with an almost reverent touch. The room seemed to pulse with the ebb and flow of your desires, a dance of conflicting emotions and unspoken promises.

"Heeseung, wait... what about my mom? And my brother? They are, for sure, worried now," you voiced your concerns, turning away to confront the reality that lingered beyond the stolen moments of passion. Heeseung, undeterred, gently made you face him again with his right hand, the left continuing its tender exploration of your hip.

"Don't worry, Princess. It's all taken care of," Heeseung reassured, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around you. Before you could decipher the cryptic assurance, Heeseung seized the moment, pulling you down for another kiss. The words that lingered on the tip of your tongue dissolved into the sweet oblivion of the kiss. Heeseung's actions spoke louder than any explanation he could provide, and you found yourself willingly surrendering to the enchantment of the moment.

Lost in the depths of the kiss, Heeseung tilted his head, deepening the connection between you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the echo of their entwined breaths and the lingering taste of a love that defied logic and reason. As the seconds slipped away, your concerns were momentarily silenced, replaced by the intoxicating allure of a passion that seemed to have been waiting for this moment to ignite.

As Heeseung held you in his lap, a surge of gratitude and contentment washed over him. He couldn't help but feel fortunate to have you, the only woman he had ever wanted, nestled in the cocoon of his arms. Your warmth against him felt like a cherished promise of a future you would share together.

The room around you seemed to fade away as Heeseung reveled in the moment. The soft rhythm of your breathing created a gentle melody, an unspoken connection that echoed the depth of your growing bond. He gently traced patterns on your back, savoring the feeling of your closeness, as if committing every nuance of the experience to memory.

In that intimate embrace, Heeseung couldn't imagine anything more perfect. You was his, and he was yours—bound together by an unbreakable thread that wove through the fabric of the shared existence. As he pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head, he whispered words that echoed the sincerity of his heart, "Forever and ever, my love."

END OF PART 1

Masterlist:

Part 2

#heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #heesung enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen #ghostface #heeseung x you #heeseung enhypen #heeseung x yn #enhypen fanfiction #writers on tumblr

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ultimate-chickennougat · 1 month

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| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 8)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 (Not Required) Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

You see your husband in his glasses for the first time...

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, reader wears a dress, Gojo is mentioned (a lot).

A/n: I haven't posted a new volume in weeks, my sincerest apologies! This one was a bit rushed, but I'll be back with regular installments.

Due to the nature of being a sorcerer, Nanami didn’t have many photos of his time at Jujutsu High. Most of the few that had been taken were stuffed into dusty boxes in storage rooms, that none of his former classmates and colleagues wanted to touch.

That pattern continued into adulthood. His hatred of his work as a salaryman (a job he eventually came back to), and as a sorcerer, caused him to not appreciate having documentation of those moments. Other than from the unannounced snap of a camera from Gojo, or on a particularly important occasion, his face was rarely captured before he met you.

His stance on the matter didn’t change, but instead there were plenty of memories he wanted to have preserved. In fact he bought a camera just to bring on outings with you, taking pictures of the two of you together and the beautiful scenery of the parks and forests you visited.

He quickly returned to his former job after meeting you, but during that short period in which he was a sorcerer, he made sure to take pictures of himself whenever he went to any place that was interesting and to let you know that he was safe while he was there.

Without the intent of actively pursuing high grade curses, Nanami made many other lifestyle changes, including retiring his glasses. He still stumbled upon lower ones from time to time, but the absence of his glasses had no effect on exorcising them. At the beginning, he kept them tucked in his pocket just in case he might need them, but eventually they slipped into a box of old memorabilia and got stuffed into the bottom of his closet.

Despite your rigorous cleaning routine, it was still by chance that you stumbled upon that box. Nanami always kept his closet neat and organized, and there was never anything wrong with it every morning when you picked out his tie for him. Instead it was Nanami who asked you to take some of them out and place them on the table, as Gojo was going to pick up some pictures to show his students.

You pulled out the white file boxes, all uniform with the labels “Jujutsu High” on them. Each was brought to the living room and placed on the table, waiting for whenever Gojo was going to come by.

A whole hour passed before you touched the boxes again. In that time you had made some tea and started on dinner, before curling up on the couch to finish your embroidery. But, Gojo hadn’t given a time and was notorious for being late. He was a busy man, after all, so there was no reason not to try and help him out a little.

Instead of sifting through old boxes, you figured if you could grab the pictures and place them in a neat stack, it would save him some time (and your husband some stress from having Gojo go through his things).

As you could expect with your husband, the insides of the boxes weren’t dusty at all. Other than a few marks on the sides, probably from moving things around, everything was perfectly in order. Along with that, all the photos were preserved in sleeves inside a book that you easily removed.

Flipping through the pages, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the sight of Nanami’s old birthday photo with his classmates at Jujutsu High. You recognized Ieiri, who was your doctor as per Nanami’s recommendation, and Gojo of course, though the others were unfamiliar to you.

For you it was also a trip down memory lane, seeing as some of the photos you had only glimpsed at in the past, and you remembered all the stories Nanami had told you about his time as a student and a sorcerer. You placed the book firmly in the middle of the table, about to close the lid as the clock hit 5:30 P.M, when Nanami got home.

Just a few minutes later he was walking up the steps and into the house, being greeted by you just like every day. To him, it was the perfect way to come home. It had already been a few months since your marriage, and he couldn’t imagine getting bored of it decades away, let alone any time soon.

Nanami held you in his arms, that were sore and tired from a long day of typing and flipping through papers at the office without much time to stretch. You could hear his heartbeat soften while he relaxed.

“Welcome home, darling,” you smiled, trying to help him feel at ease. Of course, your presence was more than enough to do just that. “I’m glad to be home,” he mumbled, lowering his shoulders and letting you go freely. “Has Gojo come by yet?” you shook your head, to which he nodded. “Knowing him he’ll show up in the middle of the night,” Nanami groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“I put the photobook on the table, is that what he wanted?” you asked. “Yes, thank you,” he joined you, where you were flipping through it. “I remember when you told me about this,” you showed him the picture of a birthday cake, baked just for him by Gojo. “I didn’t realized Gojo was the one who made it,” he could see the honest surprise on your face. “Hmm… I must have left that part out…” he frowned, recalling how embarrassing it was at the time, though it was a fond memory. Nanami pulled one of the unopened boxes towards him, taking the lid off as you continued looking through the photos.

Nanami paused when he saw the glasses. It had been a while, but they were still familiar to him. So much so that he popped them right on, his eyes quickly adjusting to the new shade. “Kento?” you tilted you head at the sight, while he turned to look at you. “Yes, my love?” he pulled them off his face so you could see him properly. “Are those old? I never knew you wore glasses,” you pointed to them in his hand. “They’re for Jujutsu sorcery, to watch curses,” he brought them to his face.

“Ah, I see,” you hummed when he put them back on. “What do you think?” he asked, smirking as he saw you examine him. Your hands started fidgeting with the ribbon of your dress, as you stared right into his eyes though you couldn’t see them. “You look very handsome, darling,” you stated meekly. That was a true statement, but there was still something you felt was off.

“I can’t see your eyes,” you continued, “Unless you’re really close, that is.” Nanami stepped a bit forward, lightly biting the inside of his lip. “And would you like to, my cute wife?” he asked, fully intending to have you blushing at his words. He bent forward, the lenses hitting the light at an angle so you could see through the dark glass. He was staring just as intently as you.

Nanami let his hand cup your jaw to keep eye contact, as an unfortunate knock on the door from Gojo came at the wrong time. “What’s a few more minutes, hmm?” he let out a chuckle, ignoring the sound. “Answer my question,” he directed you. “Yes,” you nodded quietly.

Nanami pulled off the glasses and tucked them back into the box, shutting the lid. “I agree they are quite cumbersome,” he let you go to the door. “You actually told me you liked my eyes on our first date, I would be surprised if you preferred them,” he smiled at you, letting out a sigh as the banging continued. “I enjoy looking at your eyes as well, just please don’t mention it to Gojo.”

#nanami x reader #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento nanami #kento #nanami

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kienava · 1 year

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So someone asked me to make a post about Blake’s development so far in order to discuss the question of where Blake’s character can progress at this point in RWBY given that her arc with Adam wrapped up in V6 and she didn’t really carry a plot line in V7-8. I do media and story things for a living, but I’m also an intimate partner abuse survivor - needless to say, Blake’s story is important to me. Hopefully my perspective helps answer concerns about Blake’s story being “over,” because I think it’s very much the opposite.

(Continued below the cut because this turned into an entire essay.)

I want to preface this by saying I understand why it might be difficult to picture what Blake’s story looks like going forward. I largely credit this to the relative dearth of compassionate, healing-oriented narratives about abuse survivors in media. A lot of what we see is either revenge fantasies or stories about facing the abuser and arriving at a point of ultimate catharsis. In some sense, this is a broader fault in the standards of western storytelling, which is oriented around that singular, climactic catharsis, but that’s another essay. In truth, a mostly linear progression towards a pivotal point of recovery isn’t how healing from abuse works. It’s a messy process, and life is rarely as linear as in fiction. I think RWBY incorporates that nonlinearity into Blake’s arc very well.

Speaking of Blake’s arc, let’s look at that.

When we first meet her in volume 1, she’s introduced as an aloof, independent loner who’s very resistant to getting closer to people. Most of her classmates perceive her as mysterious and alluring at best, callous and cold at worst. Once we start to understand more of her history, it’s easier to see her attitude as the defense mechanism it is. She wants to keep people at arm’s length because she doesn’t trust them not to hurt her – but she also believes that she will harm people she gets close to just because of who she is. That whole Beauty and the Beast dichotomy, you know? Adam told her that she ruins things. It doesn’t help that he groomed her into a terrorist organization and thus her surrounding community has also labeled her a threat. She’s got a few overlapping layers of distorted thinking to work through when it comes to her image of herself and others. The way she perceives people is, at first, overwhelmingly informed by her traumatic experiences with Adam and the White Fang.

It’s pretty strongly implied that Blake bent the rules in the forest and intentionally selected Yang as her partner. When we first see Blake dashing around in the shadows, Yang is taking down a Grimm while sassing it to death. Blake talks later about how Adam’s charisma drew her to him initially, so it’s no surprise that when she was choosing her next partner, she gravitated to the same superficial qualities. During the first White Fang arc, after her self-destructive spiral, Blake starts to genuinely trust her teammates for the first time. That trust is tested when Yang fights Mercury. In this moment, Blake is confronted with the possibility that a pattern might be repeating itself: what if she was drawn to Yang for reasons beyond the superficial? What if Yang doesn’t just share Adam’s positive qualities, but his negative ones, too? The impulsiveness, the violence, the abuse – but Blake stops herself. She chooses to trust that Yang isn’t Adam, and she says as much. She’s accepting that Adam is in her past and electing to move forward. How perfectly, neatly linear.

Then the end of volume 3 happens.

For an abuse survivor, the idea that an abuser you’ve gotten away from might come crashing back into your life is possibly the scariest thing in the entire world. This is exactly what happens when Adam shows up, and Blake’s worst fears come true. He makes a point of hurting someone she cares about simply because he can to prove that he still has power over her. Blake runs because she thinks the only way she can protect the people she cares about is to be away from them. That paradoxical duality of (1) fearing harm will be done to her by others and (2) doing harm to others herself rears its head.

One specific question I was asked is why Blake talks about Yang so little in volumes 4 and 5. If Blake isn’t talking about the people she left behind, is she even thinking about them? I say, well of course she is. It’s coloring her entire attitude.

When Blake returns to Menagerie, she’s back in the place where she met her abuser. She’s at her parents’ house, a place that has been a symbol of everything she left behind when she ran away the first time. Now she’s run from another home. Menagerie is riddled with traumatic memories for her, both interpersonally and on a structural, systemic level. Everywhere she goes could be a place where Adam said something awful to her, made her obey him in some way, asserted control. She also has to confront him in person again, too.

With Adam around, of course she’s not going to risk mentioning Yang. He got one inkling that Blake cared about someone else and cut their fucking arm off. The one time Blake mentions Yang by name, her voice cracks so obviously it’s like she’s forcing herself to get the word out. Through both of these volumes, Blake has other external goals, but she’s still trying to protect someone she cares about. At this point, she’s constantly struggling with two motivations: hope and fear. She wants to make the world a better place, but she’s terrified of what she’ll have to confront in order to do it because of what she’s already lost. Her choice to reunite with her team and fight shows that ultimately hope wins out.

In Volume 6, Blake and Yang facing Adam is essentially the B plot of the whole volume. He appears in flashes before the major confrontation at the end, but the damage he’s done to both of them is intrinsically tied into Blake and Yang’s relationship throughout.

The end of this volume offers the climactic moment of confronting and overcoming the abuser. Afterwards, Blake collapses and cries. Catharsis! Yay! We’re done now, right? This may be why, to some people, defeating Adam is the obvious “end” of Blake’s character arc. Again, I’d argue that this perception comes from how abuse is often depicted in media, but there’s also a very intense pressure in the real world for survivors not to speak out and share their stories. Even people who are abuse survivors might not publicly claim that label for a multitude of reasons. Namely, it fucking hurts to think about it, and also sometimes people are real weird about it. I don’t blame anyone who doesn’t want to carry that weight around all the time. We can see some inklings of Blake dealing with this challenge over the course of the show, though they’re subtle. Early on, she explicitly avoids talking about Adam until she absolutely has to, and even when she does start to unpack what he did, she often talks about it with visible shame (averting her eyes, etc). Unfortunately, shame is a very common sentiment for abuse survivors to carry, and addressing it is a major part of Blake’s journey as she starts to heal in volume 6.

Another point of interest posed was to look at Blake’s role in volumes 7 and 8. There’s an argument that she doesn’t really do anything or that her role is as a somewhat generic support figure within the group. I wholeheartedly disagree.

While Blake doesn’t carry a plotline herself during the Atlas arc, she and Yang embody polarized attitudes towards the global conflict the group is facing, and that contrast serves the larger narrative very well. Because she was raised by activists in a context where she was constantly thinking about civil rights, Blake wants to address the broader ideological conflict at play. Yang, whose childhood consisted of raising her younger sister, wants to help people in a practical, immediate way. Blake is an abstract, big-picture thinker, and Yang is more focused on what’s right in front of her. This isn’t a dig at either of them; it’s just a difference in prioritites. At first, Yang worries that these differing priorities will be a source of tension between them, but when she and Blake talk things through they’re able to understand each other without judgment. Blake is learning to reconnect with the idealist she used to be in her early youth, someone who fought for a cause purely because she wanted to make the world a better place. She’s able to embrace that side of herself around Yang even though they have different priorities, and they’re still able to support each other’s goals.

Furthermore, on a purely interpersonal level in V7-8, Blake has interactions with other characters that speak specifically to the healing journey she’s been on. Yes, these are significantly quieter moments than a fight to the death on a bridge over a waterfall, but that doesn’t mean they should be written off. Quiet and peace are part of healing, and that doesn’t have to undermine the story’s integrity. Dramatic tension is still possible amidst this, as we saw in Blake’s talks with Yang where they discuss their team’s split strategic approaches. When Blake talks to Nora about the importance of not losing yourself in someone else, that’s her speaking from experience. She’s lost herself in a relationship before, and she knows how hard it is to come back from that, but she survived. She healed. The asserted importance of self-compassion in relationships has a unique gravity coming from Blake. She has a strongly developed ability to balance interpersonal empathy with community- and global-level stakes, which we’re already seeing glimmers of at the beginning of V9 as she steps up to come up with a plan on the island.

In summary, Blake’s arc isn’t just about that final showdown with Adam. She faces her abuser, runs away, faces him again, and again, finally evicts him from her life for good - and after that, her story continues.

She goes on to find ways to heal from her past. That process involves renewing compassion for her loved ones, her community, and the world as a whole; learning how to love without fear; and reconnecting with who she was before she was forced to become aloof and detached to protect herself. Although the circumstances of abuse convinced her that she was a coward, she is, and has always been, an incredibly brave character. She’s finally recognizing that at the current point in the story. Ultimately, I think this is the thing connects her to Yang and the rest of team RWBY so strongly: they’re brave enough to love and have hope even when forces of adversity tell them they shouldn’t dare to. Blake is a courageous idealist with a heart full of compassion, and ultimately not even Adam could destroy that about her.

My serious answer to the question of where Blake’s character will go now is that I think she’ll be a sort of de facto leader on the island as Ruby spirals into existential depression. Hopefully that arc resolves in a way that’s consistent with the show’s overall message about hope winning out, and past this volume Blake will still carry that optimistic but grounded revolutionary spirit and continue to be a center of compassion and hope.

My catharsis-oriented answer is this: aside from being trapped on a magical fairy tale island, Blake is free for the first time in a very long time, and she can go wherever the fuck she wants.

#it's time for KIE'S OPINION #blake belladonna #rwby v9 #rwby spoilers #cw: abuse #tw: abuse mention #i have a lot of thoughts about blake. if you couldn't tell.#i went full english lit minor #anyway if anyone starts clowning on this post i will not hesitate to block your ass

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prismstonearchives · 4 months

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オールフレンズそらみそふぃコーデ - All Friends SoLaMi Sophy Coord

#kiratto pri☆chan #kiratto prichan #prichan #no brand #cool #super rare #live #all friends solami sophy #all friends solami #pritama volume 1 #coords #coord #purple #red #pink

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 year

Audio

Quiet Riot - Metal Health

#Quiet Riot #Live & Rare. Volume 1 #Metal Health #Release date: January 4th 2005 #Compilation #Genre: Hard Rock Heavy Metal #Themes: Life Partying Love Metal Society #USA

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itsohh · 4 months

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Electra Heart Part 2

A/N: Female reader, I actually really enjoyed writing this dynamic even though I never really did dive into the reader being a popstar too much so I might do something more focused on that element in the future if theres intrest. Dunno, I'm just glad this didn't die in the wip graveyard lmao.

Summary: After a successful date with your long term friend Johnny things go rather well you finally decide to follow your heart without a care for your popstar image.

Word count: 5082

Warnings: Smut

Part 1 AO3

The next day after your date with Johnny, you found yourself at the studio as everyone talked about the demo you had submitted. “It's upbeat, it's fun, it's a song you get down to at the club. I think it should be the single of the album.” Mike, one of your producers argued.

“It's a love song. It's off her brand, her brand is breaking hearts- ruining lives. Not this.” Katie, your manager bickered back.

“No it's supposed to be a commentary of the modern age-

Meanwhile, you ignored them. Your focus was on your phone. Johnny's glasses decorated your face and hid your eyeline from everyone in the room. In your hand was your phone, just at the perfect angle to see under the glasses. Eyes on your phone you recorded yourself as they argued next to you- the volume muted.

Going to work was a mistake

You zoned out of the conversation as you received a reply from Johnny. His snap was a picture of him at his mansion. Without his shirt, you could see the sweat that covered his chest muscles. A pair of glasses covered his eyes as he flexed in the photo.

Damn and I thought I looked good in them

Another snap came through of a slightly adjusted photo.

free 2nite?

Johnny, we literally went out yesterday

what can I say? Can’t get enough of u

Next Tuesday I'm free

that's like five days away :(((

You’re a big boy, you can wait

lunch then? bring swimwear

or don't ;))

=⁠_⁠=

you weren’t giving me that look last night

need a ride?

Nah I'll find my own way there

u sure? can drop you off again if u like?

We’ll see

“Gale!” The sound of your stage name snapped you out of your thoughts and your eyes were met with the look of everyone else in the room.

“Huh?”

“Are you listening?” Katie asked annoyed. You blinked and bit your tongue.

“I don't know why we're are arguing over this, the album isn't even done.” Jacob, a man who rarely spoke up, raised his voice.

“Because this is against her entire image if we-”

“Katie who cares?” Jacob leaned forward. “Artists change their vibe all the time. So she's fallen in love? It's not like we can't work with that.”

Something ran across Katie's eyes and she turned to face you. “Who is it? We can-”

“No no no no.” You immediately waved your hands. “There will be no publicity stunt. No tabloids no nothing. This one's private.”

You gave her a stare as you put your foot down, something you didn't do too often.

“If you do go public with this you need to tell me first. Or if someone catches you.”

“Alright.”

Before you could even knock twice the front door to Johnny's mansion swung open and he picked you up in his arms.

“There's my girl!” He swung you around in a circle before he placed you back on the ground again.

“Your girl?” You laughed.

“My girl.” He confirmed and a moment later his lips were on yours. Johnny pushed the door closed with one hand. His body pressed against yours and your back made contact with the now closed door. Sandwiched between him and the door, you hung your wrists around his neck and enjoyed the ride.

“...Being waiting to do that all week.” He breathed when he parted, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Yeah? Then why did you stop?”

Something clicked inside of Johnny and he was upon you again. His hand found the joints on the back of your knees and picked you up with ease. Instictly you wrapped your legs around his waist and he carried the pair of you over to his lush sofa.

The caps of your knees met the sofa as he at down on it. His hand settled on your ass where he gently kneaded it and encouraged you to grind against him. One hand tangled in his hair, you ran your nails through it and grabbed a chunk.

His lips separated from yours only to assault your kneck and trail down to your chest where the open cut of your shirt exposed. “So fucking hot.” He mumbled against your skin.

Then a ring of the phone happened.

But this time, it wasn't your phone.

“Johnny, your phone.” You mumbled.

In response, he growled against your skin and continued to assault your lips with his.

“Ignore it. It’ll stop.”

He was right, it did after a few rings. Then it started again. You pulled back and stepped off his lap which caused him to let out a whine.

Johnny snatched his phone off his liquor table and pressed it against his phone. “Cage here.” His eyes watched as you approached his swimming pool and nearly dropped his phone when you started to take off your clothes.

Johnny watched with great obvious interest as you stripped down to reveal your high-waisted bikini underneath.

“Uh-huh.” You were at least fifty percent sure he wasn't listening to his phone. There was a decently sized charcuterie board on a small mobile table near the pool. It was filled with different, cheeses, meat, fruit and crackers.

You picked a couple of grapes from the bunch and popped one in your mouth. Johnny watched as you approached him and pressed the grape to his mouth. His lips accepted it without hesitation and you could feel the slight touch of his soft lips against your fingertips.

“Hey look, I'm actually in the middle of something. I’ll have to call you back or just email me alright? Yeah okay. Bye.” He tossed the phone over his shoulder onto the couch and attempted to snatch at your waist but you skipped out of grasp.

A squeal left your lips as he chased after you until you jumped directly into the pool as an escape. When you surfaced and turned to face Johnny, he crouched at the edge of the pool.

“This shirt can not get wet but damn is it tempting to ruin it right now.”

You swam up to him in the guise that you were going to kiss him but last second you snatched his glasses once again and pushed off the pool wall with your foot.

Johnny watched as you placed them on your face and grinned at him. He stood up from his crouched position and pointed a finger at you. “In about three to four minutes from now, your dead.”

“Whatever you say Johnny!” You sang back.

He disappeared from view and you snuck out of the pool to go back to feasting off the charcuterie board. A couple of minutes later the hair on your shoulders stood up and you turned to see Johnny at the top of his stairs. No longer was he in a dress shirt and pants but in a rather small and tight pair of swim shorts.

Cage stalked his way over to you rather casually but as he got close there was violence in his eyes and he went to grab you. Like a caught deer, you scrambled to jump back in the pool but this time he followed you in.

It shouldn't have surprised you but he was an extremely strong swimmer and managed to catch you by the waist with ease. You squealed and laughed as he pulled you by the waist.

“You have something of mine.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Your head rolled over his shoulder and grinned in his glasses.

He raised his brows up as if to say ‘really?’ but grinned regardless. The pair of you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. Then you saw it, that look in his eyes. Always hidden but now revealed, not desire but care. Johnny looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

The smile on your face dropped and you slowly turned around to face him. Johnny's grip loosened so you could move and you hung your arms around his neck once again.

“I swear I can't think I'm around you,” Johnny said.

“Really? You hide it well.”

“Gods yes. That time at the academy? I swear I felt like I was at high school again.”

“Johnny you slept through half of the lessons.”

“Dreaming of you babe.”

“Johnny.” You rolled your eyes. One hand left your waist and came out of the water to reach for the glasses. A sudden gasp left your lips and you pushed off Johnny back into the water to escape. When you looked over your shoulder Johnny was on his way towards you, watering flying everywhere as he did so.

You found the ladder at the side of the pool and quickly climbed out. Water dripped off your body but you didn't get too far before you felt his hand grab at you. Yet, he failed and only managed to get a grasp on the back of your bikini. As you continued to move forward, it pulled the bikini and in doing so it came undone.

“Johnny!” You hissed and spun around to face him, your hands on your chest to keep yourself decent.

For once, a red dusting covered his cheeks and he immediately put his hands over his eyes. “Oh fuck I’m so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to.”

A second passed and you watched him. Despite his obvious horniness for you 24/7 he still cared. His head tilted to the sky so he couldn’t possibly see, his palms were most certainly in the way. Your heart hammered instead of your chest and you swallowed. Instead of doing it back up, you took a couple of silent steps towards him. You dropped the bikini top in your hands and let it fall to the ground. “Johnny…” You reached up and grabbed his wrist then slowly pulled it down.

His eyes were squeezed shut and he peaked open one testinly. It went from your face down to your exposed chest. Johnny pressed his lips together and looked away from you for a second as he obviously restrained himself.

“You can look.”

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Both eyes opened as he drank up your form.

“Ohmyfuckinggod may I touch?”

“Mhmm.”

The second you gave confirmation he bent his knees and picked you up by the waist. Up in the air, he aligned your chest with his mouth as he latched on. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically as Johnny sucked on one breast and felt up the other.

He rolled your nipple between his fingers as he carried you over to his sofa, not a care in the world for the water that was sure to cover it. “John-ny.” Your whine turned into a long moan. Now that you were on his lap he could use one hand to palm your ass where he encouraged you to grind against him.

The swimwear that separated the pair of you did little to create a barrier and you could soon feel the sheer size of him that hardened against you. Mentally you made a note that he seemed to really enjoy your movements.

One of your hands leaned on the sofa while the other buried in Johnny's hair and kept him pulled against your chest, not that he needed to be held there. There was a pop as he detached from your breast and then made a large lick on the other one before he swapped sides.

Johnny hummed against you and his hips started to rock up to add more friction between your legs. “I've wanted you the second I saw you.” He briefing spoke against your skin and continued, his big brown eyes looking up at you.

“You want every woman that you see.”

“What can I say? There's a lot of beautiful women out there. But you're the one I wanted to keep.”

Johnny detached his lips from your nipple and placed a kiss between your breasts in your cleavage. “You’re smart.” Kiss. “And fun.” Kiss. “And pretty.” Kiss. “And can kick some serious ass.” Kiss. “I’d be a fool to let you slip between my fingers.” This time instead of kissing your chest, he pulled you down by the jaw and planted his lips against yours. A messy and open mouth kiss that was full tongue. One caused your cunt to drench further.

“Think you can take me baby?” His eyes trailed your jaw to your lips

“Only one way to find out.”

“Fuck.” He moaned at that thought as his eyes shut for a moment and he swallowed. “That's the attitude.”

He allowed you to press up from him and separate the pair of you. The distance was just enough to give him room to fish his rock-hard cock from his shorts. The hand that had been him his hair drifted down and you pushed your bikini bottom to one side. Your cunt glistened for him, covered in your arousal. Johnny started to rub the tip of his head between your soaked folds and you watched the way his eyelids fluttered.

“Fuck.” He moaned again and he drew out the end of the word

Just as he held it between your folds for a little longer and you used the opportunity to slide down on it. Johnny let out a lot of hiss of delight. “Oh, you're going to be the death of me. So tight.” He whined as he slouched slightly on the sofa. Your hands found his shoulders and your nails dug in slightly while you anchored yourself.

“Your…. Like…Really big.” You panted. Johnny blinked a couple of times as the pain of you slowly adjusted to the feeling.

“No need to tell me.” He winked and placed both palms over your ass. Johnny didn't try and get you to move though, he was content in allowing you to pick the pace.

As you steadied yourself you couldn't help but be almost overwhelmed by him. Sure you had taken dick before, real or not. But this time, he was so deep inside you could swear you could feel him in his chest. His thick cock had you so pleasantly stretched that he had quite literally stuffed your entire hole.

Then his phone started to ring. Johnny's head snapped forward and snatched the phone that vibrated next to you. He promptly threw it across the room and it fell into the pool with a satisfying ‘plop’. The sound was cut off as it quickly sunk to the bottom of it.

“Where were we?” He looked up and down your bare form. “Oh yeah, that's right.” Johnny's lips connected with yours again and slowly you started to roll your hips against him. Just the smallest of movements sent electricity throughout your entire body.

“Please.” Your voice was strained but he wasn't one to make you beg. Johnny started to lift you with your bounces, making it easier for you while he thrust up.

Johnny's palm cupped your cunt and his thumb found your clit at expert speed. When he grazed it, you flinched up and his smirk grew. He gave you that one look before he started to circle your clit to the same rhythm of your movements.

It was a different type of pleasure that started to build inside you and soon you were squirming on his cock while he kept control. Mentally you made sure to get him back but then that thought faded to the back of your mind as your body continued to tense up. “Mmm so nice and tight for me. Yeah? Come on baby, lemme see you cum on my cock.”

His voice, the purr of his voice had you squeeze down on him as the thread inside of you snapped and a wave of pleasure took your body by storm. Your heartbeat raced in your ears and your nails broke through the skin on his shoulder. Yet, Johnny didn't care. He continued to praise you through your high.

“That's it, oh fuck yes, you’re doing so well. Let it out baby, I got you. I got you.” For a moment his babbles were silenced as you were taken away for what felt like an hour but in reality was only for a few seconds.

Energy spent, you slumped forward into Johnny's waiting arms. “Tired you out huh?” He chuckled and picked you up with his cock still inside. You didn't bother to look where he was taking you, simply burried your face into his shoulder.

“Just gimmie a few minutes.” You mumbled into him.

He laughed and kissed the side of your head. “Take your time. I'll be here all day and all night.”

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of a loud thumping and it wasn't in your head. When you opened your eyes and blinked you found yourself in an unfamiliar room and it took you a couple of seconds to recover your memories.

The rush of resting in Johnny's bed cuddled up to him came to your mind. Then the memory of you getting a little handy. Then him getting handsy, then him fucking you. Against the bed, in the shower, in the bed again, the shower again and finally him taking you to the bed where properly went to sleep.

Sheets barely covered the pair of you and pillows were all over the place in his massive bedroom. Your bikini bottoms nowhere to be seen. The open bedroom door did little to mitigate the continued thumping. You looked over to see Johnny was on his front fast asleep. You lightly shook him but he just rolled over some more into an even deeper sleep.

With a roll of your eyes, you slipped out of his bed and grabbed his dressing gown that was hung up on the back of his door. It was a white silk piece with golden embroidery of his name on the back. The bright light that streamed through the windows when you left the room had you pause. You backed into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of his sunglasses. How many copies he had of the same pair, you didn't know.

The pounding continued again and you slowly made your way downstairs until you got to the front door. With a yawn, you opened it. “Cage reside-” Your sentence was interrupted as you stared at the person at the door. And they stared at you.

The pair of you both said each other's name in surprise and you let him into the house. Now wide awake you yelled Johnny's name and kicked your clothes to the side as Kenshi walked in after you. “So you and Johnny huh? Should have seen that one coming.” He didn't seem too upset by the matter. Kenshi seemed more amused than anything.

“Yeah.”

“How long has that been a thing?”

“Maybe a week?”

“Yeah I'm up, you could have woken me a different-” Johnny started to speak and you interrupted him.

“Kenshi’s here.”

“Johnny.” Kenshi greeted.

That seemed to wake Johnny up. “Oh shit, hey man.”

“You forgot again, didn't you? I tried to call you yesterday but you didn't pick up.”

Cage looked towards the pool where his phone still was. “Yeah, it had a water accident.” It was waterproof, of course, but Kenshi didn't need to know that.

“Right.”

“I thought you weren't coming till noon though.”

“It is noon.”

“It's what?” You gasped out in horrible and started to rush for your clothes. “Oh fuck my managers going to be pissed.” You found your phone in your pocket to see the right missed calls. Neither of the men were able to say anything to you as you continued to head into Johnny's room to get dressed. You were without your missing bikini top and bottoms but you made do.

“It was great seeing you both again but I have to go bye!” Is all you said as you practically ran out the front door.

It wasn't that you didn't want to reply to Johnny's texts, it was the fact that you were just a bit late that threw everyone off schedule. The mouthful from your manager was an annoyance at best before you were shoved into makeup and costume.

Like always, you gave the concert your all but you couldn't help but feel a little distracted at times thinking of the ghost touches left by Johnny. Thankfully you had the lyric prompter in front of you.

It wasn't until an hour later after the concert at the end of the day did you finally settled down. At least it had only been in Vegas and not an international concert.

There were a few snaps of Kenshi and Johnny sent to you when you finally opened up your phone after your shower.

miss u already

home isn't the same without u

how u feeling? surprised u can still walk ;))

The first message had been sent about an hour after you left and the other about three hours later.

Sorry, I was late for work and then got swept up. I'm good. You’re going to have to try harder than that to stop me from walking, kombat’s built up my stamina

His reply was pretty quick.

guess I will have to try again

also had to get a new phone turns out waterproof phones have a time limit

who knew???

You rolled your eyes

Who would have thought leaving your phone in a pool all night would kill it?

…

He rewrote his sentence a couple of times before the next message came through.

worth it

Your eyes went to his glasses which you had stolen, the second pair, that lay on the hotel room dresser. An idea formed in your head when you glanced at the large mirror that ran parallel to the bed. You pealed away the towel you sat in.

Next, you removed the towel around your head and threw them both in the hamper. Completely naked, you picked up the glasses and placed them at the end of your nose so your eyes were still visible.

You got on the end of the bed and sat on your knees, your feet aimed outwards on an angle. It wasn't a very comfortable position but you only stayed there long enough to take a photo in the mirror.

I have to confess, I’m sorry, I stole another pair

The response was immediate

keep them

Then came the barrage of texts.

where r u rn?

can I come over?

babe that's so hot

have that framed on my wall if I could

so hard thinking of you

Sorry, Johnny, I'm out of town for the night.

;-;

What about Kenshi?

kenshi was only over for a few hours

he has special agent shit he needs to do

Rip

gotta ask sweetheart why are you all dolled up? still got makeup on your face

Had a work thing, just got out of the shower

mmm I love taking showers with you

wish I was there

Next time Cage

Also after tomorrow I'll be out of town for a while

how long?

About a month

A MONTH?

u didn't let me say goodbye:((

Then what was yesterday?

me saying hello

Uh-huh anyway it's for work so you’re gonna have to toughen it up

maybe I should come join you ;)

Don't you have a movie to direct?

yeah (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Promise I'll stay in touch okay? Now off to bed big guy

goodnight <3

Goodnight Johnny

A month later Johnny received a text from you stating you were finally back from your work trip. Exhausted though and bed was your first objective. The next morning he was on the phone with you.

“I still can’t believe you recorded that.” Your voice huffed over the phone.

“What can I say? I'm a born director.”

“I ate mad ass in that fight, Johnny.”

“Come on, you weren't that bad.”

“I was! I feel like you have an inflated opinion of- ah hold on one moment someone's at the fucking door.” Your tired voice turned into a hiss of annoyance.

Despite the muffled sound that came from the phone, Johnny could hear rather easily.

“Um hello, can I help you?”

“Nightingale?” The voice was deep and Johnny stayed completely silent, dedicated to listening.

“Ah, another one. How many times do I need to tell you that the leak is incorrect? There's no Nightingale here.”

“We both know that isn't true.”

“Excuse me, you need to back the fuck away from the door. I will defend myself- Get the fuck away from me!” There was the smallest sound of what he presumed was a struggle and the line went dead. Alarm bells went off in Johnny's head and he scrambled to his feet.

When he arrived at the apartment he pounded on the door. But instead of you, he was met with a rather short blue-haired woman. She yawned as she opened the door and he immediately said your name.

“She's not here. She just finished her tour dude, I know you guys just started dating but she hates visitors just after a tour.”

Johnny stared at Lisa blankly.

“She doesn't live here?”

Lisa’s brows shot up and she shook her head.

“No way.”

“Where is she? I think she's in danger.” Johnny's voice was quiet, serious for once. Lisa’s lips parted and she nodded.

“I can direct you, let me grab my shoes.”

Johnny drove fast normally but at the thought of something happening to you? It was like he was on a track, like a madman. Lisa surprisingly didn't seem to mind and was quick to direct him expertly.

She helped him find the mansion. It was massive in the worst of ways. It seemed half of it wasn't in use, curtains covered all the windows. Large high walls surrounded the place like a prison and only when Lisa told him the code was his car allowed him.

“Stay here.” He commanded and Lisa gave him wide eyes but nodded, his martial skills were no secret.

Johnny was careful in his approach when he was your busted door, a dead chain on the ground. Your house was a palace. While his house was modern and personalised, yours seemed rather generic and didn't show much of your personality at all. What was alarming was the amount of broken things on your floor. Then blood. There was a decent amount of blood spatters that now stained the once-perfect marble floor.

His keen ears managed to hear something and he crept up the stairs. There was a loud sound and he narrowed dodged the metal object that flew at him. Johnny's eyes went to the Grammy which flew past him and down the stairs. “I told you guys to fuck off- Johnny?”

When his head turned he was met with you. Your hair was frankly a mess. A massive change from your usual self, you wore sweatpants and a cropped singlet. There was no hesitation before you flew into his arms and buried your face into his shoulder.

“What happened?”

“There was this group of men. I don't know who they were but I gave them a piece of my mind.”

“I've got Lisa in the car- let's get out of here.”

You didn't try to argue, instead you nodded and allowed Johnny to walk you out.

“Where are they?” He asked.

“I don't know, there were only about five and I think they took off when they realised I wasn't going quietly. There are security cameras in the house, I have a friend at a security company. They can figure it out, the cops won’t do shite.” A sigh left your mouth. “Fuck I knew I should have moved the second my address got doxxed. Fucking hate this house anyway.” You mumbled.

“Why didn't you move?”

“Honestly? I hate moving, I have so much shit that I don’t care about, clothes I don't care for. And in the end? All houses in LA are the same. Big and empty, all too lonely.”

Johnny stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his hand planted on both sides of our face so all you could do was look at him. “Live with me then.”

“What?”

“Live with me. You don’t even need to bring your stuff, we buy you new clothes. I’ll buy you anything you want. The bed feels better with you in it anyway.”

“Johnny… we only just started dating…”

“Who cares? We know each other.” His hand directed between the pair of you. “We know each other. Worst comes to worst it gives you somewhere to stay while you look for somewhere else.”

“Okay.” You nodded and he pulled your head in where he placed a kiss on your forehead. The pair of you reached his car and you got in the back seat.

“So… was that a Grammy you threw at me?”

Johnny's house really started to feel like home as he helped you get comfortable. Originally you had refused his offer to buy new clothing but when you thought about the overwhelming closet had, you reconsidered. In the end, you had agreed to let him shop for you so long as he used your card.

“I can't believe you never told me you were an international pop star.” His finger made a small gesture for you to turn so he could see the entire outfit. Normally you weren’t one for clothes shopping but Johnny really made it fun.

“It never came up.”

“Does Liu Kang know?” He nodded while he ate up the sight of you.

“Yeah, all our friends know.”

Johnny gasped at you, offended.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?!”

A sigh left your lips and you turned off your phone that was in your hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of you.

“To be honest I hid it from you.”

“But why?” He whined.

“Because all my relationships have been PR stunts I didn't want it to be that I didn't want you to like the performance version of myself. I wanted you to love me for me. Just me.”

Silence filled the air as Johnny proceeded what you were saying. “You want me to love you?”

“I do.”

He leaned in close to you, his lips almost touched yours. “Good, because I do. I have, for a long time.” They connected with yours.

#johnny cage x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage

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jakeysbuttsheeks · 5 months

Text

Godfather | 1

Warnings: profanity, age gap , mature themes, mentions of overdose , drug use , substance use , death of parent , orphaning , other weird shit

Pairings : Jake X fem reader

18+ mdni

When Jake was in college he met a guy called Mike , one of the closest guys he was friends with.

Mike was 8 years older than him . He got along really well with Jake's band and with his brothers . He was almost considered family .

Until Mike went down a stump. Addiction to every drug on the planet and god knows what else . Mike ended up have a kid by accident at 18 .

The girl didn't want the kid and gave Mike the responsibility to take care of it. Jake and his brother's helped Mike through fatherhood, although they couldn't do much with his drug addiction.

Mike had overdosed 18 years later and left Jake and his friends was mortified with it.

Mike had made Jake the kid's godfather . And that kid , was you . Now almost 18yr old teenager that had to stay with your dad's rockstar best friend Jake till you could fend for yourself because you literally did not have any other family.

Jake on the other hand had his whole family delighted to welcome you into the family .

☆⋆⋅─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────⋆⋅☆

It was almost a year since your dad died and It had been a month since you moved in with Jake. He was never really the responsible type but you could tell he was trying.

You never understood why, but there was always an awkward when you were alone with him . A weird unspoken tension. You thought maybe it was because you didn't know Jake enough to feel comfortable living with him . But that wasn't true because you'd known Jake your whole life , he practically helped take care of you more than your own dad did.

Maybe he was just shy you thought , or uncomfortable?

Whatever it was , you couldn't spend more than 10 minutes alone in the same room with him without it getting weird .

You were thrown out of your thoughts when you felt a tap on you shoulder, making you startle before you turned to see Jake standing next to you .

"how many times did I tell you not to keep the volume basting? You're gonna go deaf love" Jake spoke as you slid your headphones down your head to rest around your neck .

"sorry-" you mutter as he walked past behind you .

"it's alright doll I just don't want you to get deaf so young" Jake spoke fast "Anyway, I'm making dinner so be down by 6 alright?" He said , shuffling in the kitchen .

"okay" you say before you slipped out of the kitchen and headed up stairs.

Why did you have to act like that ? Jake's a good person and you knew no matter what, he would never take advantage of you or anything of the sort . But you couldn't help how you acted. You wondered if he noticed your behaviour. You wondered if he was the only one that felt the weird tension.

You lay in bed , blasting music and scrolling through tiktok. And then you looked at the time and decided to go have a shower.

You turned on the Bluetooth speaker in your room and cranked the volume to max and went for your shower .

Jake rarely came upstairs , it was almost like he'd given it off to you with the guest bedroom and bathroom and a nice balcony. He had everything he needed downstairs anyway. His soundproof home studio, his bedroom , the dining, the kitchen , the living room and a nice porch outside all for him .

Even though no one had actually verbally divided the house like this , it just became a staple nom between the two of you .

You finished your shower, hot and steaming as you came out . It was your monthly everything shower and you had shaved everywhere and , done your skincare and hair masks and you really took your time with it.

You walked into your room , the music blasting as you stripped yourself of your towel and started dressing. You always had your room door locked so you didn't have to worry about Jake walking in (or so you thought).

"y|n-!" The door swung open and you screamed and grabbed whatever you could to cover your fully naked body.

Jake didn't even say anything he just spun around and slam the door back closed. So much in mearly a second .

You felt ashamed . This was only going to make things so much more awkward.

Meanwhile Jake was still in shock, he knew he shouldn't have barged in like that . But he had called out for you almost a hundred times before coming to upstairs and knocking on your door. But you couldn't hear him because you had your music blasting .

"fuck" he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and guilt as he quickly went back downstairs.

You shut your music off for good , realising he must've called out for you and you couldn't hear him . You had completely forgotten about dinner at 6 .

You got dressed and took a few moments to gain the confidence to go back down and face him , ready to pretend nothing ever happened.

You walked into the kitchen and quickly grabbed something to eat before attempting to rush back upstairs but Jake stopped you .

"y|n we need to talk" he said , and you could swear you lost all feeling in your feet . Your throat went dry and your pulse fastened .

"come sit" he gestured for you to come and sit with him in the living room , his eyes on the tv .

You slowly crept up and sat yourself on the love chair next to the couch Jake was sitting on, picking at your food for a couples seconds of silence as Jake turned off the tv.

"look i-" he started, taking a deep breath to continue.

"I'm not going to pretend that I don't see you're uncomfortable with this whole thing anymore y|n" he starts .

"We haven't spoken about your dad or anything for that matter and I thought I wouldn't bring it up until you were ready but-" he sighed .

"We were so close before your dad died love, and I know this is all alot for you to process and take in and I only want to make it easier for you" he spoke as you felt tears prick your eyes.

"But I can't do that if you're not comfortable with with me. And it seemed to me like you're uncomfortable and I wouldn't blame you-" he continued.

"I kept calling out to you and I even banged on the door and I thought something had happened to you so I barged in- I shouldn't have- I didn't mean to-" you watched him as he spoke . He was terribly embarrassed, his face red with guilt. You felt sorry for him .

"no Jake it's alright really" you stop him and he left out a soft breath of relief to himself.

"No but if you're not comfortable staying with me . You could go stay with Josh or the others. My parents would be happy to have to too" Jake offered.

You stayed quiet , thinking it over .

What happened today was terribly awkward for the both of you. Considering the weird tension that you felt around him that drove you mad .

"my parents that is?" He smiled , knowing he had read your mind and you couldn't help but break out a smile too. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

You nodded and he mouthed a small 'okay' to himself before his eyes fell to your plate of food .

"you didn't take veggies" he exclaimed with playful anger and you laughed out a groan before getting up to serve yourself some veggies that Jake had made specifically for you .

It was weird how much tension eased once the two of you spoke about things. It was almost how it used to be when you dad was still around.

Jake was right. The both of you were very close and playful and he was your favourite uncle as a kid. Things just got different as you grew . And even worse after your dad died. The two of you had so much unspoken stuff that y'all had to talk about to go back how y'all used to be .

But for now , staying at Jake's parents house seemed needed .

Tags:

@jjwasneverhere @themoreyou-love @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gvf23 @sarah-gvf01

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aussiepineapple1st · 1 year

Text

How Long? (Part 2)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,011 Contains: Job Briefing, Caring Husband Leon.

Part 1 | Next

Riding through the chilled, early morning air of Washington, your head stays placed against Leon's back, you felt exhausted. Even though you had been sleeping a lot lately, you were surprised Leon hadn't picked up on it. Maybe he did and it would have now clicked with him as to why you had been so tired.

Your husband was very good at picking up on slight changes in your habits, but would always just observed without saying anything until he would become worried for your health or safety. The thing is you were used to pushing through your tiredness, being on jobs that required your full attention for days on end, the adrenaline would help keep you awake. But when you were at home, in the safety of the familiar and comforting 4 walls, you would give in to your tiredness and just sleep.

Leon had noticed your head resting on his back for the whole trip, keeping tabs on your grip around his abdomen. A few times he would feel it loosening and give your hands a gentle tap to wake you up. You only lived 30 minutes away from DSOHQ, when Leon was driving. Scanning his clearance card to open the underground car park, the sudden louder volume of the bike woke you up completely. Pulling your head from Leon's warm back, you wait for him to park in his named space before sliding off the back of his bike.

Stretching your arms over your head, your mouth widens in a yawn before letting your hands fall to your sides. "Ready to do the boring stuff?" You asked watching Leon flick the stand out and turn the key for the bike, creating silence as he flings his left leg over his bike.

"You know it." He said doing his little head tilt you loved so much.

Smiling you turn away from him and head for the door to the stairs, a warm hand grabbing yours at your side as you pull the handle down. Looking to your hand then to Leon who's hand was holding yours, a questioning look in your eyes.

"Let's take the elevator?" He suggested. Normally he would just follow you up the stairs.

You roll your eyes and give his hand a slight squeeze before pulling away from his gentle grip. "Leon.. Walking up stairs isn't going to hurt." You pull open the door and walk through it, Leon instinctively holding the door open as he watched you starting to ascend the stairs.

Huffing heavily his shoulders lower, deflating as his worried attempts backfired on him. But maybe you were right? Walking up stairs wasn't going to hurt you or the baby, he just didn't want you to put in the extra effort if there was a perfectly good elevator right there. Walking through the doorway he follows you up the stairs, meeting you on the 4th flight, both of you panting lightly from the exorcise. Yes, you were both fit, but stairs can make the most fit of people's hearts work hard. Leon thinks they should be called heart attacks not stairs, you however found them to be a good way to stay in shape.

Holding the door open for him you wait, watching him trudge up the last flight towards you. He reaches over your head taking the side of the door and letting you go first. It was a thing, you would try and get him to walk through doorways first. On rare occasions you would succeed when he wasn't paying attention, but when he was paying attention he would never walk through first. Letting you go ahead of him, he was such a gentleman.

You both make your way across the light, grey-blue carpet that really needed to be replaced. Having been walked on for so long it was starting to wear away, even having holes to the cement ground underneath in some spots. Through white halls you enter a large, square room with two levels. The second level having a railed off balcony, each room an office with the different workers and levels of management. The first level had desks in the centre of the room, these were for FOS workers. Though your own FOS worker, Ingrid Hunnigan had been here so long she had moved up to the second level with her own private office. The rooms around the first floor were the briefing and meeting rooms, today you were heading to room nine. Without any hesitation you both made your way to the door simply labelled 9, Leon opening the door to let you enter first.

Slipping past Leon you enter the dreary white room, black desk chairs line the edges and left end of a large, long table. On the right side of the room, a rolling white board and pull down white screen, the overhead projector hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room. Standing at the whiteboard writing on it was none other than your favourite FOS, Ingrid Hunnigan. She turns after hearing the door opening and gives the both of you a smile, tired eyes still shinning bright behind her glasses.

"You're a bit early!" She greets, writing some last things before popping the lid off the back of the marker to covering the nib with a click. She closed the yellow file in her left hand, placing it to the side away from others on the long table.

"Yeah, Leon was speeding again." You walk up to the desk chair beside where Hunnigan was standing, taking a seat.

"I was not... I was going the usual."

"So speeding." You nod, swinging your chair from side to side.

Hunnigan only shook her head at your banter. "Well we should get started then." She looks down to the three yellow folders on the table, opening them all up and spreading the information out in front of her. "This is what first caught the President's attention." She says sliding out a report and placing it in front of you, Leon takes a seat in the desk chair beside yours, looking over the info now in front of you. "To sum it up, after the incident in Dulvey, Louisiana, the BSAA took the winters family to Romania under their protection. They have been mixed up once again in the same problem from three years ago." She paused for a moment to pull a few pictures out of the mix. "These were taken by a Recon group called the Hound Wolf Squad."

"Chris?" Leon asked reaching for the pictures placed on the table in front of you. They showed pictures of a caving system, a mass of black tendrils extending out of a large hole.

Hunnigan continues. "Yes, Redfield has written in his report that this black mass has the same properties found in the Mold back in Louisiana." She hands over some more pictures taken. "These are what made the president want you to head over to Romania."

You pick up the pictures, humanoid creatures looking like some half formed werewolves were skulking around in an enclosed cell. Another picture was of a woman, wrapped in rags, limbs cut and bruised with blood around her mouth. You frown, it didn't look like the Plaga, but it could be some kind of mutation? And the other creature, you didn't have a clue what that could be. "BOW's?" You asked, holding up the pictures for Leon to take while you look to Hunnigan.

She shrugs. "This very well could be the ones mentioned in the report, yes." She crossed her arms over her chest. "The President has contacted the BSAA's European branch and decided to send the both of you. See what information you can get, as well as help eradicate what may be happening there."

You speak up. "This report was made last year. Things would have changed since then." You point out.

Hunnigan nods. "Another reason why Mr. President wants to send both of you, just in case things have changed, and possibly not for the better." She sighs seeing the both of your expressions seeming unsure. "Look. I did some of my own digging last night before I called you. I found this deep in the BSAA's files under Redfield's name." She pulls out another piece of paper and hands it to you.

You read out the short excerpt. "Upon being killed the Lycan seem to exhibit signs similar to those infected by the Plaga. We have found old research labs with information of experiments done on the people in this village. There are mentions of a parasite called the Cadou." You look up to Leon. "So we're dealing with another parasite.. Great. Spain all over again." You sigh letting the page float back to the table.

"Your flight will be leaving at 10am for Romania. Here are your boarding passes and lanyards with signed documentation, indicating presidential acceptance for your weapons to be allowed on the flight." She hands the documentation, boarding pass and lanyard to each of you. "You will need to take these folders to look through on your flight."

You nod and start to scoop up everything in front of you, placing them in the yellow folders she had provided.

"I'm sorry the information is sporadic and old, but it's all I could find in the BSAA's archives as well as any information sent to the DSO." She gives a slight shrug.

"It's fine, Hunnigan. You did good." Leon nods as he stood up from his chair, your own swinging around. You stand up out of it with all the folders in your hands.

"What Leon means, is this information is enough for us to know what we could be up against. And I say, go home and go to sleep." You smile and turn to leave the room, expecting Leon to be following you. Leon however stays behind, waiting for you to be out of the room. He then turns to Ingrid who was looking at Leon with raised brows. He never just waited for you to leave the room like that.

"What's on your mind, Leon?" Her arms were crossed, she knew something was bothering him.

"Well.. You see it's.." Why was this so hard to spit out? He felt like he wanted to tell the world he was going to be a father, but at the same time scared of what it meant for you and your work. "What would it take to get (Y/N) a desk job for saaay... a few years?"

"Ah.. She finally told you."

"You KNEW!??"

Ingrid smiles a wide grin. "Yes, Leon.. Us women know these things about each other. And congratulations by the way. But I don't know if that could be possible. You and (Y/N) Are the best in the world at what you do and call to the President themself." She explained, watching Leon deflate, yet at the same time become more tense.

"I just.. It's dangerous what we do. And I can't have her going out and risk losing the baby. She's already been doing too much." He stressed.

Ingrid placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know.. I worry for their safety as well. I have spoken with the Chief Advisor, he's declined from placing her at a desk when she is needed on the field. And I don't have the power to go directly to the President." She said raising her brows, hinting her words to him.

He nods, he will bring it up the next time he sees the President. But right now, this mission was already assigned to the both of you and you couldn't back out now. He didn't like it, but you were going to have to go with him this time.

"Leon?" Your voice calls from the door. "I thought you were following me. I was talking to myself."

Leon turns to you and Hunnigan gives him a nod when he looks back her. "Thank you." He says before making sure he had everything then turning around to follow you out this time.

Part 1 | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

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neverevan · 5 months

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Fuck It Friday ☔️

I was tagged by @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela and @jeeyuns thank youuu 💛

Aside from some editing, my Christmas fics are all done and now I can slowly return to my main wips, so I thought I'll post a snippet from Eddie's pov in the mudslide fic (most of that part is just too spoilery and I rarely share from it, but this bit was waiting to come out for a while now, so here 🫶).

He mostly thought about Christopher; imagined him waking up in the morning, pestering Buck for breakfast and news he couldn't give, going to school and coming home, sitting at the dining table, doing his homework… Just normal things.

He would’ve given anything to be with them right now. To walk out of his room in the morning and see Buck’s sleep-rumpled face, his curls flat on top of his head, his smile lazy and crooked and his bare feet on Eddie’s living room carpet.

To watch the tattoos shift on Buck’s naked shoulders as he stretched and to hear his hoarse voice as he mumbled out a quiet “morning” on his way to the bathroom. To smell the scent of his overnight sweat still lingering on his skin while making their coffees side by side, waiting for Christopher to finally shuffle out of his room for breakfast.

To hear the sleepy mumble stifled in his own ribs as Chris gave him his good morning hug and see the toothy grin tugging at his lips as Buck entertained him throughout breakfast, making him giggle with his silly facts and jokes.

To yell “come on, we're gonna be late” at the front door as Chris ran back inside for a book he forgot and then to yell again after Chris was back but Buck just realised he had left his phone on the kitchen counter.

To sit in the car and talk about after-school plans and listen to the radio on a low volume before dropping Chris off with a hug each and then to bundle back into the truck and head to work together, barely just having enough time to stop for one of those creamy coffee monstrosities Buck liked so much — that somehow Eddie learned to like too, only if to indulge in the fantasy of what Buck’s lips would taste like on his own.

✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @nmcggg @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05 @rainbow-nerdss

#this is gonna be so domestic you just wait #gonna get back to this asap but I slept 3.5 hours last night and didn't really have any writing mojo today #but there is still saturday and sunday!#and then from next thursday I'm gonna be home for 12 days #which SHOULD be enough to finish the mudslide fic and the breeding fic #and then hopefully I could get closer with the jealous eddie fic too #gah I know I'm rambling but I'm so excited to have all this free time to write about my boys #🥹#I'll shut up now #buddie #911 #wip #the mudslide fic

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yurababy · 2 years

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your touch, my lullaby; c.sc

synopsis all the members fall asleep when you come over for a movie night except seungcheol. four a.m. is quiet, dark and lit up with stars. the two of you confide in each other in the quiet.

notes reader x seventeen idolverse au, kinda like the movie thing mentioned in jeonghan’s, 3.8k, smut fluff angst ig, a lot of non-smut writing sorry, it’s for plot for jeonghan too, title from Ease by Troye Sivan, reference to To You by Seventeen, and Beautiful by Seventeen, make receiving oral, basically thigh riding, reader is referred to as “girl”, sex in a flashback. thank you for waiting

part of the don’t listen in secret series.

@zen003xx @seung-sungs @angelwonie @rubyreduji @vvsmydiamonds127 @shualicious @whyokoa @dreamhannies @313hwa @minnie-mouser22 @knucklesdeepmingi @lenireads @oolanderr @bestboysvt @misssugarlips @whereisgyu @kodzukein @i4kt @wonushuasworld @aurumness @bibinnieposts @venusprada @ikissvernon @listxn @starlight-nightz @svtrbi

༺♡༻

seungcheol totally related to cher horowitz.

at the end of the day, she was just trying to help everyone around her. if paul rudd thought all she did was for personal gain, how was that her problem?

the movie was stupid anyways. it’s taking too long for them to get together, poor cher has gone through so much, and nobody cares. nobody is paying attention to cher and seungcheol hates it.

he isn’t even talking about the movie anymore. nobody in the room is paying attention to cher.

well, besides two.

it was extremely rare for everyone to fall asleep, but his members were out. their limbs layer upon one another’s, pillows and blankets covering the living room. you didn’t usually participate in seventeen activities like movie night, but seungkwan told everyone how you were the “number 1 clueless fan!” looping you into the arrangement for a night. so, there you sat on the couch, next to (but not close enough to) cheol.

as the movie progressed, the two of you were comfortabley quiet. you and cheol had been close friends since you met seventeen for the first time, going out for dinners together regularly, but you didn’t usually go any further than making out with him. messy kisses were fun with seungcheol, but honestly rare. you weren’t complaining, though; he engulfed you the same everytime you shared space, like a quilt on the 21st of december. even so, he was usually the one supposed to be recieving the hug, but the size difference just meant he couldn’t not take you into his arms, deep dimples acting as brackets for his cherry lips.

“what’s the ending like?”

your eyes fell from the tv to seungcheol’s, that being the first invitation for a conversation since the members fell asleep.

(”even... even jihoon? and chan?” you whispered, trying to observe the delicate faces around you for signs of activity.

“jihoon has been working a shit ton later than usual, so i guess movie night was just an excuse for him to sleep. chan...” cheol ran a hand through his hair and your lips involuntarily parted. “he was trying to prove that he could pull all-nighters.”

the both of you softly giggled, soonyoung’s head suddenly flopping onto mingyu’s thigh and making seungcheol cover his mouth with his hands. effortlessly cute.

you reached for the remote, turning the volume down slightly. “at least you’re still awake. let’s keep watching, it’s ending soon!”)

you exhaled through your nose, corners of your mouth lifting as your eyes shifted back to the movie. “happy. you’ll see.”

“how could it possibly be happy? the guy is such a dick and tai is on thin ice. poor girl,” he had to stop himself from getting louder in the middle of his sentence. serenity never really suited him, but he tried to bring it out for the calmer you. it was too late in the night, or, sadly in the morning, for him to disturb his sleeping family. even with his aggressiveness, you could see the smile tugging on his lips and it got a grin out of you, too.

you gave him a soft punch on the shoulder, the distance between the two of you allowing for that much. “impatient,” you tutted. “look, they’re sitting next to each other. keep watching.”

“we’re sitting next to each other, that doesn’t mean anything’s gonna happen!”

you raised an eyebrow towards his direction, shaking your head and going back to the movie.

josh, not the one passed out on wonwoo’s lap, is in the middle of calling cher beautiful when you get an idea, smirk playing on your face. you sit up a bit, tugging on cheol’s shirt to get his attention. suddenly immersed in the film, lips in pout and eyebrows knitted together, he only gives you a hum in response, but you know he’s listening. it’s almost a skill he’s picked up from leading thirteen young boys— at first he was too shy to scream “shut up!” so he resorted to hearing them all out. at once.

you calculated the timing of your actions to the movie’s in your head before going for it. “punch my shoulder, cheol.”

his eyes that were trained on the screen squinted at yours when your words matched the movie’s, him doing a double-take at the kiss scene that he almost missed. the second he saw it, he decided he could care so much less, fist nudging your shoulder and pursed lips breaking into a smile. with that, you leaned in and planted a kiss to his mouth, seungcheol responding immediately with a hand on your neck. the exchange was cut short when you lightly pushed him back. (your eyes lingered on his closed ones for a little too long, deep exhales from his ruby lips just barely illuminated by the tv in the dark room. how he managed to look like he had the most blissful fuck after one kiss was beyond you.)

he didn’t chase after you, rather he nonchalantly leaned back against the arm of the couch. cheol didn’t play games, he was more black-and-white, or, “if you want it, come and get it.” he didn’t like being messed with, and maybe it was his experiences that shaped him like that.

you put a pillow under seungkwan’s head after watching it off of minghao’s shifted knee. glancing away from the mess of sleeping members, you found the eldest’s hand and entangled your fingers. “we can hang out in your room while they sleep.”

he giggled again, fucking giggled. as the two of you rose from the couch, shoulders pressed together (or, cheol making sure he’s as close to you as possible) as you trek past the rest of the boys. what he did appreciate was intimacy, warmth, and communication. he would never done any kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement if it wasn’t someone like you, someone he knew would still be his ride-or-die, someone he could break in front of when he had to stay strong for everyone including jeonghan, someone he could find physical comfort in emotionally rather than just pleasure from sex.

the two of you made it into his room, your fingers unraveling from the grip on seungcheol’s sleeve. (you didn’t remember when that happened, considering the short time it took to get to his room.)

“fairy lights,” that’s new, you thought out loud as he shut the door, him raising a brow as your eyes met. you realized as you said it— it came out a bit awed, to which he let out a light chuckle. warm twinkles surrounded the perimeter of his walls in a neat, continuous line. that definitely wasn’t there before.

what has always been there were the real stars, the glimmers against a night sky even at dawn. those were the sparkles in seungcheol’s eyes: when he looked at the members he had watched mature into who they are now, when he scans the faces of carats at every meeting, when he can make out diamonds and hearts from the shapes of the clouds. when he looked at you now in his quaint, illuminated shelter.

the appearance of a dimple brought you back to reality, the boy breaking into a shy grin. “sure. i think they’re cute, right? lamps are a bit annoying, small area coverage and all.” he paused for a moment, glancing around the room with his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket. you had begun looking at other antiques and additions to his room, observing pictures he hung around his desk.

you weren’t facing him, but he softly shook his head as if dismissing a thought and settled by your side. you were now peering over his desk, trying to recognize faces in film photos.

your eyes crinkled at a particular image of him and the hiphop team members. “so cute. polaroids, i mean. really kind of…” you searched your mind for synonyms that could seem more appropriate, but none suited the topic well enough.

“endearing,” you finished, biting your lip at the loveliness of the word. “fairy lights, too. very cute of my manly-man seungcheollie.”

he beamed at the tease and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning the expression. “i don’t get many chances to be cute. the members think i’m cute nowadays, but back then, i couldn’t be.” cheol’s head hung low, stopping himself from looking at the pictures. “i think it’s relaxing, having reminders of where we came from. small things like polaroids to keep the good memories... and string lights, because, why not?”

he exhaled almost dramatically but kept the smile on his face. “i feel like i’m on cloud nine. it’s so hard, every second of my life, you know?” you nodded as he spoke. of course you knew, for him and for you. “but the minimalism is like what fucking meditation and tea is to myungho.”

you both let out humored exhales at that, cheol exclaiming ever-so-softly, i’m serious! “it keeps me stable. after a.. swirling day. i need something this peaceful. i usually hate that shit, the quiet. it’s still not my favorite, it’s just not that bad.”

seungcheol had been pressing his palms against his desk, having found interest in the wood. the polaroids were long forgotten, one of your hands reaching up to play with the ends of his hair as he spoke. you noticed the way his breath hitched between words, the handful of gulps he had taken in the duration of the vent.

so, as you confirmed he was finished for today, you tugged one of his arms to the side, slipping your body into the free space and captured his torso within your arms.

he reacted as soon as the touch came, melting into the embrace as his arms similarly wrapped around your shoulders.

“cheol…”

he shushed your with a large hand pressed on your head, stroking your hair and making you whine. “my fault for spilling everything on my mind. no need to say anything, doll.”

“but- stop that!” seungcheol let out a low laugh at your protests to his fingers carding through your locks, teasing your skin. the corners of your lips lifted at the contact as you gave him a gentle push and settled atop his desk. “but, i want to. can’t i?”

“not today, baby.” you pouted a bit, but understood. it was late, cheol feared the topic would make him cry too easily, already being in a vulnerable state.

he took two steps forward, hands finding your waist and a smile on his face. it was a bit of a confusing expression— his dimples weren’t deep enough, his eyes were waning gibbous. it made you sigh, but you figured it would be best to not dote on the conversation. after all, he probably just remembered everything that he doesn’t have time to think about. he knows he has reassurance at any time, he just sought your presence as a non-member when it came to these kinds of things.

“don’t be so sad, it’ll make me sad. you know what’ll make the both of us happy?

seungcheol’s head was tilted, dangerously close to your forehead. you knew where this was going based on his lopsided attempt at a smile.

you planted your palms onto his shoulders, slipping your fingers past the neck of his shirt to massage his skin. your lips twitched at cheol’s shudder that followed your movements. “i think i do, cheollie.” a pause for thought, you contemplating what’s appropriate to say in the blank. “it’s been a while.”

“i guess it has, hasn’t it?” a rhetorical question. you weren’t sure why it felt awkward.

maybe seungcheol was trying to distract from his emotions, didn’t want to overhear you with seungkwan in the kitchen asking has seungcheol seemed sad recently? maybe he thought he had let his burdensome self slip for a moment.

of course, that would never be the case.

you lifted a bit up to your tip-toes, cheol catching on and lowering his head. you pressed your lips to his jaw, kissing and mumbling the bone. “i miss you.” he was right there. “i like us like today.”

“you’re too good to me. i need you. now.” suspicions of your position together simply being a distraction crumbled at this. if it was joshua, he’d say i want you. cheol is a bit more dependent, instinctive, scared. he means it. a hand cupped your cheek, lifting your face from his jaw. “always?”

you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be a question, the lilt in his voice ever-so subtle. you answered anyways. if he questioned it, he would just have to assume you were repeating him. it was safe.

“always.”

seungcheol was a happy virus. every reveal of his dimpled smile spread to you. you wanted to say it was just because he was that cute, but in reality, something in you longed so badly to make him happy. you had known him for so long, since he was just a kid in the lime backrooms of pledis, desperately trying to make some kind of connection with more kids even younger than he was.

so you smiled back, bright but just for a moment before connecting your lips. he quickly placed a firm hand on your back and one on the desk as you leaned against it. you took his face into your hands to deepen the kiss, muffled noises of pleasure interrupting the silence of the dorms.

it was cheol who broke away first, flicking a tongue over his previously-occupied lips while trying to find your hand through his half-lidded eyes. having been in a better state, you found his first and allowed him to drag you to the edge of his bed. he sat down, hand still gripping yours, and you waited for him to speak. with seungcheol, you could withstand patience— he was too much of an overthinker, so the times he could make decisions fast were always valuable.

you swung your hand a little, playful, watching him poke his cheek with his tongue before his dimples broke through. “you look sleepy.”

“just a little bit,” you laughed, light.

he raised his eyebrow, smile drooping into a smirk. “that’s okay. you don’t need to do too much work today. on your knees, baby.”

“what are we doing?” you asked, flush painting your cheeks at his words as you crouched down. in truth, it wasn’t actually his words, more the way his already deep voice seemed to have dropped an octave. in the midst of the night and the solitary of his room, you realize just how much you missed him.

—

2017.

“cheol-cheollie!” you panted, hair covering your face (which was pressed into the mattress anyways, so the majority of your sight would be covered even if you tried pushing it out of the way).

said boy simply chuckled, watching your ass shake with every pound of his dick. “take it so good. too good for me.” (some things never change.) “having fun, y/n-ah? tell me- shit, tell me if you are.”

“like it, cheol! i-” the name you had known for the past couple of years faded into incoherant syllables as a big palm made contact with your ass.

“just like? damn, i thought i was a bit better than that.”

a moan immedietly escaped your lips, coming out more as a whine. “no! mmh- love it! love it so much, cheollie.... seung...”

“shh, y/n,” you heard above you, although quiet. it dawned on you that he had been speaking so calmly the entire time in contrast to your loud moans. “thank you, darling. you know what to do if it gets too much.”

of course you did— seungcheol didn’t even let you take off his shirt until you gave clear consent to what the two of you were going to do. you lifted your head a bit, craning it to the side to look at him through the wisps of your hair. “wanna... please- wanna cum!”

cheol tucked your hair behind your ears, flashing his gums at your fucked-out state. “of course, baby. think you can wait a minute, though?”

—

present day.

a hand making contact with your hair brought you out of your reminiscence.

he tilted his head down at you, “you’re pretty. can i fuck your mouth?”

“so blunt,” you murmured, hands already reaching for his drawstring.

his hands engulfed your hair, crafting a makeshift ponytail with his index and thumb acting as the tie. “you like it better when i’m shy? like the first time?”

when you finally undid the knot (you wondered what his technique to tying bows was, so unnecessarily secure) he lifted his hips for you to pull the trackpant low. “liar. you weren’t shy.. i could barely walk the next day.”

“and now i’m gonna make sure you can’t speak tomorrow.”

once his pants were low enough, he took ahold of his dick before you could. giving it a few pumps, seungcheol held it by the base, a somewhat elated grin on his face. “open up, baby.”

and you did— flattening your tongue a bit for show while making eye contact with seungcheol. his cock was then shoved against your tongue, the culprit’s eyes narrowing above you. with your tongue on his underside, you licked a stripe up, holding the point of your tongue to the tip of his shaft. with a little boost of confidence from the sharp breath the boy offered, your lips wrapped around his tip, slowly starting to take him inch by inch.

a bit more pressure was applied against your head, sending you closer to his base in a swift motion. you whined a bit around his length, but seungcheol only chuckled.

“you’re a bit annoying sometimes. why can’t you be my good girl? just this once?”

you began to slide off his cock to protest, reassure, argue, something, but cheol only bucked his hips further into your mouth, your nose brushing against his skin.

he built up a bit of a rhythm, pushing your head up and down his dick at his own speed. and that speed was fast, your mouth not even moving around him. you figured it was worth it, worth hearing his deep grunts and pleasured moans, but you had better ideas.

you reached up and grabbing his arm, his movements halting immedietly. sensing his furrowed brows even if you no longer held eye contact, you didn’t let give him time to inquire your actions before you pushed off his cock and brought it back in. he hit so deep in your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat, you felt hot wetness streaming your cheeks as you tried not to gag. the discomfort disappeared as soon as it came as seungcheol released another, much louder, moan.

you hollowed your cheeks and continued to suck: up and down his cock, kitten licks and kisses around the diameter, mewls and hums vibrating down his length. it seemed to do the trick just fine, one hand previously having been gripping your hair abandoned to tangle the sheets and the other impressively strong on your scalp.

his breathing was getting heavier, and you had already predicted his next words. “close, baby... m’ gonna cum soon,” he warned.

you made no effort to move, though, making sure he knew where his cum would go. on your lips. under your tongue. down your throat.

so, when he released with the prettiest sound, you held it in your mouth until his eyes fluttered open. (you always wondered if he had ever tried wearing mascara or something.) once sure his eyes were back on you, you gulped as visibly as possible and stuck out your tongue for him to see.

see? i am a good girl. your good girl. i’ve always liked you, a bit more than the rest. don’t we have our own connection? i would do anything for you, i think. thank you for everything.

he offered a smile and pat his thigh, signalling for you to replace yourself on his lap. you did just that, tipping your head back as his mouth latched onto your earlobe. “i was lying, you know?” he spoke against your skin. “you’re always the best. a brat, but i love it.”

and you felt like this was a safe place, a place for honesty and love and comfort. so, regardless of knowing how he would take it, you spoke your mind.

“i’d do anything for you.”

it wasn’t your preferred reaction (you actually didn’t know how you wanted him to react or even what you expected from him, just not this) but it was still music to your ears, the dark chuckles that seemed to be his favorite way of expression today. “right back at you.”

a pause for him to suck your neck.

“i’m so happy. so happy i have you.”

and it was true. no matter what you were, you had each other.

“love you, cheollie.”

that much you could say without problems. he knew it was true. you knew it was the same for him, right?

“love you too, my y/n.”

of course it was, why did you doubt him? how could you think he would shake his head or lie when he said it so quickly, like it was the only thing he studied for on the entire test? why did you not believe him for a second? why do you care? what do you want from him?

“let me make you feel good. grind on my lap, i know you’re wet.”

of course he did, he knew everything about you. he knew all the times you’ve cried, he knows your favorite color. he knows what breed pet you want in a few years, he knows your favorite seventeen song, he knows which members you’re with at all times for safety. why did you trust him so much?

your daze didn’t stop you from complying, rolling your hips on his lap and shamelessly moaning into his neck to chase your high.

of course, it was because he was one of your closest friends. he meant the world to you. you were so grateful to have him.

one day, someone else will have him, you reminded yourself. have the perfect boyfriend, husband, leader, best friend, choi seungcheol in their mouth like you did a bit ago. have him in their arms like you always find yourself begging for. and they’ll be in his heart, on his mind, in his life as his.

and of course, you had no right to be bitter. you were still a mess on top of his thigh, his hand still occupied your folds in this moment and you still pulled him in for a kiss. you still came on his hand, he still licked your cum off his fingers. he still pulled you beside him in his bed, under the covers. you still had him, for now.

you thought again: did you actually want something with seungcheol, or is he so close that it’s just too easy to imagine? would you actually ruin everything for seungcheol?

“you’ll always have me. i hope it’s the same vice versa,” seungcheol’s arms tightened around your shoulders.

“of course it is. go to sleep, my forever-boy.”

you could say that much tonight.

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol fic #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst

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