#has the same face as his fucking soulmate

[k4marina]

this was supposed to be a drabble, but fuck it, we ball.

bassed off of this.

warnings: gotham. moral of the story is don’t walk the streets of gotham alone at night

——

"i don't get it," you say into the phone that's pressed in between your ear and shoulder. your best friend on the other line hums in agreement. "it's like he's living like a double life y'know? rich corporate dude by day, and then some sort of street thug by night."

she laughs on the other end. "that would be an interesting movie plot. but for real, i'm glad that i'm not in your shoes, no offense-"

"none taken,"

"-i'd drive myself insane trying to figure out who my soulmate was."

you shake your head, smiling, "careful, keep talking like that and you'll end up in arkham."

her laugh fades for a second before coming back to the phone. "speaking of which, has your little thug boyfriend run across the batman yet?"

you shake your head, not that she can see anyways, "no, not yet. i wonder what that would be like though. maybe then he'd stop running around in the streets like an idiot."

"a little intervention by the bats?"

"totally," you laugh. you glance back at the little wall clock you had, groaning. "i'm gonna have to go, gotta head to work. talk to you tomorrow?"

"okay, stay safe, byeee," you could hear the sound of her kissing on the other end, you doing the same before ending the call and getting ready for work.

—

by the time 4 am had rolled around you had finished your shift and were steadily making your way back home. was it risky to walk alone in the dead of night in gotham? yes. but at least you have your pepper spray.

the streets are dimly lit, casting an orange hue onto the pavement. the second you turn the corner you could already tell something was off. your hand reaches into the bag, pulling out your pepper spray, uncapping it.

your eyes shift around, scanning the area in front of you when a hand reaches out, pulling you back by your shoulder. you hit the persons chest, instinctively pulling back to see who it was.

some street thug who looked like he hasn't taken a shower in days gives you an eerie smile, sending shivers down your body and paralyzes you.

"don't cha' know betta then to walk around at night?" his nasally voice makes you want to recoil into yourself. his rancid cigarette breath doesn't help when he speaks up again.

"hey, i'm talkin' ta yah. you not gon' answer me." he steps forward and you step back in fear. "what? you think you too fuckin' good?"

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. "no like's a fuckin' bitch, yeah?"

before he could do anything, he stops, looking past you. you find the courage to turn, craning your head at the shadowy figure, spotting the symbol on his chest.

batman.

his eyes lock onto yours and you take a sigh of relief. he grunts, softly grasping your shoulder and pushes you behind him. only, when his hand makes contact with you, a white flash comes over your eyes and when it all fades away your met with the thugs face.

except, it's like you're in another persons body.. sort of how when you and your soulmate see out of the others eyes...

you watch as the thug gets beaten into a pulp in an all familiar way, now finally taking notice of the gloves he always wore and how thee thug rasps his name.

by the time the beating is finished your sight has returned to you and you stare into batman's back, your heart racing. he turns, and by the look in his eyes he knows too. he steps back to leave, but you're quicker.

"wait," you reach out, your hand just briefly making contact with his gloved hand. but it's enough for your sight to switch, momentarily seeing your own shocked face from a higher angle.

it was the batman.

"no fucking way," is all you're able to say. your soulmate wasn't a rich street thug.

i tired to make the creepy dude have a new york /jersey accent, but i've never written one before so it's probably shit lol.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x fem!reader #soulmates au #idk what else to add #k4marinafics #drabble #i think

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Eddie is gushing about Steve to Robin and he mentions how it's so fucking metal the way he never shies away from danger. Like, quite the opposite, he literally jumps right into it without a second thought!

And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.

(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)

They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.

They need to stage an intervention.

The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.

The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.

He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.

The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)

He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).

He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.

(Robin and Eddie are smug when they also notice the changes, but Steve supposes they have earned it this one time.)

#steve looking at an oceans worth of issues: #“oh man i sure hope i have enough problems to justify paying a professional” #and then has the audacity to act surprised when he doe #pen. #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stobin #steddie #stranger things drabble #steve harrington drabble #stobin drabble #steddie drabble

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

28 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 5

...

Soap stares at his name where it's inked across your skin. You should be his enemy. He's sitting across from you, your interrogator in this dimly lit weapons closet. You refuse to look at him. But his gaze bores into you anyway, intense on your eyes, your lips, the cuts and bruises on your face. He wants you. But he can only have you once you've given him the information Captain Price needs.

"Tell me where Alejandro is," he says. "That's all you need to do."

A muscle in your jaw twitches when he mentions Graves' name, but you bite your tongue. You won't let him shake your resolve like he did in Las Almas. You should've killed him on sight.

"What Graves is doing to Alejandro--you know it's wrong." Soap’s gaze is steady. You're so close. He wants you so badly it hurts. "He's not a good man.”

"You have no idea what kind of man he is," you say.

"I know exactly the kind of man he is," he growls. "I saw what he did to the people in Las Almas. He called them dirty cops and had them executed when they said they didn't know anything. Innocent people. In front of their families. Their children." Soap's hands curl into fists on the table between you. "He's not the kind of man who deserves your loyalty."

Your cuffs clink as your arms flex against the chair. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right. I wouldn't." Soap's knuckles pop, his voice low and dark. All his life he's waited for you. Now Graves--fucking Graves, who betrayed Soap and his team and tried to murder them all--is somehow the one keeping you from him. "I don't understand what you see in that bastard."

You say nothing, eyes trained on the far wall.

Soap's shoulders tighten. "You're just a tool to him."

"I’m a soldier. I choose to follow orders. So do you.”

"You're following his orders. You think that makes you a soldier, being a weapon? No. Makes you a damn dog."

You say nothing.

Soap grips the table until it creaks. "You think he cares about you.”

"It doesn't matter if he does or not."

"It does so bloody matter. You’re no’ some pawn he can just throw away." God damn you. He wants to grab you with both hands and shake you. To hell with this interrogation--he's got half a mind to lock you down somewhere padded until you get it through your skull that you're not worthless. He scowls at you. "You're better than this. You have to be."

Cold irritation seeps through your mask. "Am I?" Soulmate or not, he doesn’t know you.

At the look on your face, Soap's scowl deepens. He's going to kill that bastard, and he's going to do it slowly. "What about Graves is more important to you than the innocent lives he took? Does that mean nothing to you?”

"Orders are orders."

Soap's voice drops to a dangerous pitch. "Look me in the eye and say that.”

You don’t. You tell yourself it’s because he has no power over you. He can’t tell you what to do.

Soap crosses his arms. "'S what I thought. You're bluffing."

"I'm not."

"Bullshit. Graves is nothing but Shepherd's lapdog. Gettin’ paid to commit goddamn war crimes.”

"Shut your mouth," you snap. "You have no idea what happened--"

You stumble on the next syllable and go silent, realizing suddenly that you're looking him in the eye.

Johnny's a man of impulse, and it takes all the self-control he has to keep himself in place the moment you lock eyes. The pull he feels to you right now is overwhelming. You're in reach. He leans forward. Those brilliant blue eyes of his see all the way down into your soul. They’re just the same as you remember--eerily vivid, pupils blown, with his jaw set hard.

"What happened to what, darlin'?"

You shift, skin prickling. You want to cross your arms over yourself and clap your hand over the soulmark on your neck. "You don't know what happened in Al Mazrah."

"You were ambushed."

You nod, remembering that night of the mission. You've seen your squadmates die before. It's a hazard of the job, part of being a mercenary. But that night--seeing so many Shadows gunned down before they could so much as draw their weapons--it still haunts you.

"Shepard didn't know. It wasn't like we-- it was supposed to be a simple transport mission."

"It was a black bag op."

"That's what Shadows do. We take missions people don't like. Someone has to step in where you military dogs won't."

"Where was Shepherd when it went tits up, hm?" Soap's lip curls. "No air support on an illegal op. He left you to be killed. And now he needs someone to blame. It's not gonna be him taking that bullet. It's gonna be you."

"Captain Graves can handle it."

Soap lets out a rough sigh. Your insistence on Graves is rubbing him raw. You could have died on that op two months ago. And then what? He'd have never met you, only found your name later in stone on some memorial somewhere. The thought makes his chest go cold and his blood run hot. It could still happen. If he can't tear you away from this bloody mercenary work, you'll never be his. Christ. He can't let that happen. He won't. You're not going back to the Shadow Company. He'll tear Graves into pieces before he lets that happen.

He fixates on your soulmark again. Why can't he focus on getting the information Price needs? All he can think about right now is the scab on your lip, the way your pupils dilate when you look at him. Your body wants his even as you're spitting venom. The fire in you matches his own, and he wants more.

"Graves isn't here," Soap tells you. "And I'm not takin’ chances. You’re not going back to Shepherd, and you’re sure as hell not going back to Graves. You're mine."

You pull on your cuffs, hating the way the possessive note in his voice makes your stomach flip. "You don't get to decide that."

"Neither do you.”

"Isn't a matter of choice. It's a matter of what you’re gonnae do about it."

You swallow and watch his gaze track down your throat. He's close. When did he lean in? Why aren't you pulling back?

No, you tell yourself, you’re not scared. You’re in control. You lean a millimeter closer. "You can't keep me here."

His eyes brighten, gaze so intense it warms your skin. "Careful, darlin'. You don't want to throw down that gauntlet."

"And you expect me to tell you whatever you want to know? Fuck my career, fuck my squadmates?"

"If you weren't so damn dense, I'd--" He mutters another string of curses in that thick Scottish accent, standing from his chair and pacing the tight room. "You don't understand what I'm offerin’. You don't need them. You have me an' mine."

He circles around to your side of the interrogation table and kneels next to you, his expression an open plea for you to listen. You stare down at him with your heart suddenly in your throat. You can't backpedal. You can't look away.

He searches your face. Even roughed up, even pissing him off, you're beautiful. Damn it, he's going to do something stupid if he doesn't control himself.

He keeps his voice low and even. "You were expendable to them. You're expendable to Graves. You're no' expendable to me." He reaches up to you, and you go still. His hand is hot on your skin. His grip is surely strong enough to break bone. But only his thumb drags along your lip. His eyes follow the motion. "Your loyalty should be for people who care about you. I'm on your side, ya wee shite. Just tell me how to get to Alejandro and I'll get you out of here. I'll make sure you're safe. That's all I need to know."

You stare down at him. Your heart beats in your ears, and his pulse hammers with yours. You can feel it through his thumb against the sensitive skin on your lower lip.

Johnny wants you so badly you almost give in. He thinks he's telling the truth--that he'll protect you. But he doesn't know any better. You're not who he wants you to be. You're not soft. You're not good. Why does he act like he can see something redeemable in you?

Being his soulmate doesn't guarantee you a goddamn thing. Promises don't afford you any more protection than you've already given yourself. You know that very well. People aren't reliable. Soulmarks don’t fix everything. They’re just ink.

Whatever he sees when he looks up at you makes something cold and sharp settle in his chest. His throat constricts. He's pushing, he knows he is, and it's the wrong move with you. He's never been this desperate for anyone.

"Darlin'. Don't do that. Don't shut me out." His voice wavers just like his resolve. He'd protect you to his last. You refuse to see that, and he can't make you.

You look away, pulling away from his hand. "I don't trust you."

Johnny's stomach drops, and he digs his fingers into the metal chair to stop himself from digging them into you.

You want him. He can see it in the set of your shoulders, how tight you hold yourself when he's close to you. You want him despite yourself, and you still refuse. It doesn't matter how rational a decision it should be to accept his help. There's something else happening in your head that's keeping your walls up, and he's starting to realize it's not just Graves. It can't be.

He watches you for a long moment. He doesn't want you to hurt, but he's not stupid enough to believe you'll soften up and come around with time. You're a soldier.

Finally, Soap stands. If you don’t tell him what he needs to know, you’ll remain a hostage, and won’t be able to have you. He won’t accept that.

"Fine," he says, pushing his way out the door. "We’ll do this the hard way."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / [part 5] / part 6

more Soap / masterlist tag

#soulmate soap #mine #story #soulmate au #fem reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #jisung x you #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #jisung fanfic #jisung texts

[hoonieshoney]

🔪Synopsis: Four university students have been murdered by a Ghostface killer. With the murders getting more vicious and frequent, you and your best friend Jungwon decide to spend the weekend indoors. He insists you stay over at his apartment with him and his two roommates;you would just be safer there.

🔪Pairing: Ghostface!Heeseung x Female!Reader x Ghostface!Sunghoon

🔪Warnings: DARK CONTENT. Violence, murder, descriptions of the murders, slight knife play, blood, slight blood play, dub con/non con, yandere, degradation, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral (m+f), face fucking, choking, cum eating, size kink, slapping, spit, creampie, breeding kink, angst, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of alcohol, cursing

🔪Word Count: 11k+

Author Note: Ahh!! It’s here, thank you for being here! This isn’t 100% proofread so there might be a few grammar mistakes. I posted a preview of this fic, but I added a few details to this final version so if you read the preview this final piece has just a few slight additions to it! I hope you enjoy it and please like/reblog/comment, I’d really appreciate it. Love you little ducklings! 

"There’s always two," Jungwon mumbled, watching the reporters swarm the Dean.

There was another murder Friday night. Still no leads, no clues, just a sighting of someone in a Ghostface mask.

You looked up from your textbook and saw his weary face staring in the direction of the press conference. You were supposed to spend the morning with your best friend Jungwon prepping for an English midterm. But his focus is on the media circus that’s invaded the University campus.

"Two what?" You asked highlighting a sentence from your textbook.

"Two killers. The reporters keep saying the murders have similarities to the Scream movies but no one is talking about how there’s always two Ghostface killers in the end." He sighed, picking at the dry skin around his fingernails.

After 10 years of friendship it was always easy to tell when he was nervous, he always fiddled with his fingers and chewed holes into his bottom lip. You put your highlighter down and gently grabbed his hand to distract him from his nervous picking.

"Not necessarily", you shrugged. "The third movie only had one killer." you smiled trying to joke but his worried expression didn’t falter. He just rolled his eyes and swatted your hand away from his.

Damn, he really is nervous. You had only seen Jungwon this rattled with nerves after his parents divorce when you were kids. That was also around the time your friendship really bloomed into a type of dependency on each other. You hadn’t left each other's side for more than two days at a time, switching classes to match schedules in highschool and now you were at the same University together. Platonic soulmates you two always say. 

"Why are you so worried Won? If this is really like those movies we are safe! The killers always targeted one friend group and not to be super insensitive but the people that have been murdered weren't our friends."

He looked at you while he chewed his bottom lip watching you as you spoke. "Wonnie, we don’t go to those parties and we aren't friends with people that do. We’ll be okay."

You grabbed his hand again, rubbing circles on his palm to help ground his nerves. Skinship always calmed him down. The situation was scary, but you weren’t worried. You just assumed this was some copycat psycho trying to be famous. And besides, the first two murders took place at frat parties, the third one was after a football game, and the recent one was at make out point. Places you or Jungwon don’t frequent.

"But isn’t it kind of weird?" he asked, scooting closer to you. He looked around making sure no one was in an ear shot of your conversation. Before bringing his face closer to yours and staring into your eyes.

"Keeho, Mark, Yeji, and Winter were all murdered."

"Yeah and? What’s weird about that? They’re all in the same friend group like I said." You tried to focus your attention back on your textbook ignoring the loud yelling from the reporters signaling the press conference had begun.

"The same friend group that has been tormenting us since day one of university." He said shutting your textbook and turning your body to face him fully. He grabbed your hands and held them in his, he wanted you to take him seriously. 

That was true. Those four were pretty notorious for having a mean streak. But it wasn’t just targeted at you and Won. Lots of people were constantly on the end of their mean words and cruel jokes. They were the typical rich kids who thought their parents' money made them better than everyone else, partying and drinking every weekend, with the mindset that rules didn’t apply to them. 

"They tormented lots of people Won, stop overthinking or you’ll get stress wrinkles." You mused, smoothing his brown hair down and kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled showing off the dimples you loved so much. He bumped his forehead against yours, "I’m just saying,"

He looked back at the reporters as they started to talk about what they knew about the latest murder victim that happened over the weekend, Keeho.

"I hope no one we know is Sydney fucking Prescott in this scenario." 

“Don’t worry Wonnie, no one we know is that exciting.” you joked tapping his knee, “come on cutie, we’ll be late for class.” Standing up from the courtyard table you stuffed your work into your backpack and extended your hand out for Jungwon to take. 

“As if I can focus with all this going on.” He grumbled wrapping his larger hand around yours. 

Walking into the classroom you found your usual seats next to each other and started prepping for the lecture. Out of your peripheral you saw Choi Yeonjun take the empty seat to the right of you. “Hey, bunny” A small smile gracing his pretty face and pouty lips. The cute nickname he had given you the first day you moved into your dorm. You had accidentally knocked into him with a box of your belongings causing your favorite item from home to tumble to the ground. He didn’t tease you, despite Keeho being there and making fun of you for bringing a stuffed animal to college, Yeonjun only smiled and picked up the white plush bunny from the ground and kindly offered to take the box up to your dorm for you. 

“Hey Junnie, how was your weekend?” You smiled, turning your chair to face him.

“Kind of boring actually, did you hear about Keeho?” He asked, adjusting the black rimmed glasses on his face. Such a cute nerd. 

“Of course, everyones talking about it.” They news said they found him hanging from a tree limb in the woods behind the campus at a known make out spot. He was supposedly disemboweled like Drew Barrymore’s character in the first Scream movie. He was a jerk, but no one deserves to die like that. How can someone even stomach doing something like that? 

“Yeah..my little brother Gyu tried to tell him not to go out alone so late at night but he was too egotistical to listen.” He sighed leaning back in chair. Gyu and Keeho were best friends from what you heard, which was odd considering how many times Keeho stole Yeonjun’s glasses and tripped him in the halls.

“He’s always been one to do..whatever he wants.” You say trying not to come off a little bitter at the end. He chuckled softly, knowing what you were trying not to say. “He was an asshole, it's okay to say it.” He mused nudging your arm playfully. You cracked a soft smile, “no comment.”

He smiled and scooted his chair closer to yours. You spent the last few weeks since the ‘bunny’ incident getting closer to Yeonjun. You had a few study sessions together, and texted each other everyday. He was an absolute sweetheart and never made you feel uncomfortable. He was also incredibly shy, the one time his hand accidentally brushed against your thigh he couldn’t even look you in the eye. He was a blushing stuttering mess the rest of the study date. 

“So I was thinking..maybe we could hang out this weekend. We could, you know...go out Friday night?”

Younjun’s cheeks were tinted pink and he was fiddling with his fingers in his lap avoiding looking into your eyes. He was afraid your answer would be no, or even worse you would laugh straight in his face. 

Jungwon scoffed and mumbled something under his breath, his face never leaving his laptop as he overheard the conversation. You mentally reminded yourself to kick him for that later. Jungwon was definitely the protective brother figure in your life, no guy was ever good enough for you according to him. He took care of you after too many loser guys broke your heart, and he didn’t want that happening again. 

“Oh? What would we do?” leaning toward him propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin in the palm of your hand staring at him playfully. “We can keep it classic? Dinner, movie, and see where the night takes us.” He smiled, “but we can do whatever you want. I’d be fine with whatever you decide Bunny.”  

You scooted your chair closer to him and grabbed his fiddling hands the same way you do for Jungwon. You were close enough to smell his cologne and see the cute beauty mark he had under his right eye beneath his glasses, it was making you dizzy. He was so undeniably cute. “Well..”

Professor Jang walked in and started his usual morning greeting. You pulled apart from each other, dropping his hand, you straighten your chair to put you back facing the front of the classroom.

“I get to pick the movie.” you whispered to Junnie keeping your eyes facing to the front of the classroom. You saw the grin spread on his face out of the corner of your eye, “of course bunny.” 

“You shouldn’t be alone with him..” Jungwon whispered as you left class waving bye to Yeonjun. “Why not? Junnie’s a sweetheart, and your bestie is in a dry spell.” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. He wrinkled his nose and laughed, “TMI..but seriously. With Ghostface running around killing people, it's not a good idea.” He was shaking his head. “I mean, what if he is the one...”

“Won, don’t finish that sentence. Yeonjun is a sweetheart, he could never do anything like that..” you huff growing slightly annoyed at what he was insinuating. How could he even think that? Yeonjun wouldn’t even step on the flowers outside, much less butcher someone.  He picked up on the shift in your demeanor quickly, he didn’t want to upset you but he doesn’t trust anyone right now, especially with you. 

“I’m sorry babe..I just don’t think it's safe.” He opens the exit door for you letting you walk out first. “I don’t want you mad at me Y/N, it’s just..I couldn’t live without you.” You stop walking at his soft voice and sighed. You wrap your arms around your best friend's waist, “I couldn’t live without you either, Wonnie.”

He rests his chin atop your head and hugs you back. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your potential new relationship, he just didn’t trust your safety in the hands of someone who couldn’t even throw a punch. Jungwon wasn’t a fighter himself but he’s never been afraid to get his knuckles bloody for you. He’s done it four times. 

 “I just want you to be safe.” He whispers in your hairline. You nod understanding his reasoning, you pull away to look up at him, “I’ll take your concerns into consideration Wonnie, but I really like Yeonjun..” He sighed and ruffled your hair, “I know. You have that dopey lovesick grin on your face everytime you see him.”

“I DO NOT!” You very much do. 

Thursday morning was only good for one thing, treating yourself to pastries and lattes before an obnoxiously early history class with Jungwon. Whoever decided to teach history at seven thirty am was a menace. But these early morning meetings with Wonnie at seven am to eat sugary foods and get loaded on caffeine were moments you wouldn’t trade for the world.

When you arrive at the coffee house he’s already sitting at your usual table with his nose buried in his book when you arrive. Your usual latte waiting for you as well as three chocolate chip scones to share. “Good morning sunshine!” He beams as you sit down across from him. “Way too early for all your energy Wonnie..” you grumbled drinking the warm latte. He just smiled knowing this sleepy version of you all too well. 

“HE DID IT AGAIN! GHOSTFACE KILLED AGAIN” a loud yell startles you. Looking out the large window, students are running out of the science lab across the courtyard screaming. Panic started filling the coffee house, not knowing what the man that yelled meant, people started to assume Ghostface must be lingering around.

Jungwon stood up quickly and grabbed you by pulling you to him, backing you against the nearest wall, “people are panicking and you could get hurt.” 

He was right, people were running around and knocking into each other to get out of the shop. The small courtyard outside was a mess of students running and crying. Police cars and ambulances were speeding in and the loud sirens only added to the loud chaos. “Do you think he's here..” you asked, watching the scene of chaos unfold in front of you. “I-I don’t know..fuck..let’s get out of here, before it gets worse.”

He wraps his arm around your waist pulling you with him, you both leave the coffee house, “let’s go back to your dorm it's closer.” He’s pulling you tightly against him maneuvering you both around the mass of running students. 

“Y/N!!” 

You snap your head to the familiar voice of your roommate Jen. “Wonnie wait, it’s Jen.” You stop him from walking and point to your roommate running toward you. She stumbles in front of you both, crying as she throws her arms around you. You catch her and look at Won giving him a look signaling you weren’t sure what to do. Jungwon wrapped his other arm around her and moved you both away from the center of the courtyard. He dragged you two behind the coffee house to let her catch her breath. 

She looked at him and cried into his chest, “I saw-I saw the room..there was so mu-much b-blood..who could do this..” she was sobbing as Wonnie held her tighter, shushing her softly to try and soothe her. 

“What do you mean..What happened Jen..” You latch onto her side to help comfort her. Jen also had an early class on Thursday, Chemistry. The building everyone was running and screaming out of was the same building your roommate was in.

“The professor found him in the science lab..his throat was slit..they said he was ne-nearly decapitated..and st-stabbed..as if it's not horrible enough to almost decapitate him but to stab him over and over..”She sobbed harder against Jungwon. 

“D-did you see the body Jen..”you asked, rubbing her back. 

“I didn’t see the body..but there was so much blood Y/N..so much of it..it covered the whole room..” Her eyes were frantic and she couldn’t focus, it was as if she was searching for the killer around you three. 

“Do you know who it was?” you ask, brushing the hair stuck to her wet cheeks away from her face. She was quiet and gripped Jungwon’s shirt tighter and tried to ground herself. “Jen?..” Her face was apprehensive and she swallowed hard before grabbing your hand. 

“Yeonjun..” she whispered looking at you knowing the pain it was about to cause you.

Jungwon tenses up and you could see the color leave his face as he looked at you. The tears started to pour out of you before your brain could process what Jen just said. There was a loud ringing in your ears, and it felt like everything around you froze for just a split second. 

Choi Yeonjun..was..dead…?

Your breaths became shallow as you started to sink to the floor unable to hold your weight.

“Whoa, baby breathe..you’re okay. I’m here and you’re safe..breathe baby..” Jungwon gently detached from Jen and caught you in his arms before your knees hit the gravel.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, “match my breathing baby, come on. You’ll make yourself vomit if you keep crying like this.”

You hadn’t realized how hard you were sobbing, hiccuping as you struggled to breathe. You just saw Junnie yesterday..and now..now he's gone? Just like that? No goodbye..no final hug..no more comforting smells of his cedarwood cologne..he was dead. Someone murdered him..he must have been so scared..Junnie…

You clung harder to Jungwon, he let you break down in his arms. Your loud wailing hitting straight to his heart, he knew how much you liked Yeonjun, it‘s killing him to see you this way. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you cry this hard before, and it terrifies him. Jen slumped against the wall covering her face with her hands, she couldn’t handle your wails only making her sob harder. 

Jungwon let you both cry for a few more minutes before deciding he needed to get you both away from this mess. Being around here would make it worse, not to mention the large van labeled ‘Coroner’ was just arriving on the scene. He couldn’t let you see Yeonjun get taken away in a body bag. “Come on, let's get you guys back to your dorm. You both need some space away from here.” 

He helped you up and grabbed Jen’s hand and led you away keeping your back turned away from the scene. He supported both of your weights as he walked you to your shared dorm, which thankfully was only half a block away. He watched you struggle to keep your composure for a few minutes before deciding to send Jen ahead to open the room. He lifted you carefully into his arms and carried you the rest of the way back to your room. 

He placed you on your small twin size bed, taking your shoes off and wrapping you in one of your soft blankets. Your sobs died down, but your tears never stopped. You were barely blinking and it scared the fuck out of him. You looked broken. He kissed your forehead. “Take a nap baby, I’ll stay with you..you need to sleep. Your body needs to rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He stayed repeating soft words to you, running his fingers through your hair. Your little whines and hiccups dying down as you let the mental exhaustion take over. 

This was a nightmare. 

You heard soft movements and whispers breaking your dream state. Opening your swollen eyes you adjust to your surroundings. You slept the entire day away, seeing the sun already starting to set from your window. The reality hitting you again of what happened a few hours prior.

This wasn’t a nightmare and Yeonjun really was gone.

You looked around the room and saw Jungwon was packing your duffle bag and Jen was on her side of the room packing a suitcase. “What’s going on?” Your voice is sore and hoarse. You sit up from your bed confused. 

“I can’t..I can’t stay here. I want to see my mom..I need to get away from here for a few days.” Jen whispered, zipping her suitcase shut. She looked at you sadly, she didn’t want to leave you in your state but she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t even take care of herself right now.

You nod understanding, “yeah, you should go.” Even though it pained you. It was selfish of you to want her to stay, you knew she saw the mess of the crime scene and she needed to get far away from this fucking University. 

“I’m not leaving you here alone..you’re staying with me until Jen comes back.” Jungwon smiled softly while packing your favorite sweater. What? You shook your head and frowned. “Won you have roommates, I don’t think they want some girl crashing at their place..”

“Heeseung and Sunghoon are fine with it, I called them while you were sleeping. And you're not some girl, you're my best friend” He cut you off while grabbing your toiletry bag and shoving it in the duffle and zipping it shut. He grabbed your sneakers and sat on the floor at the foot of your bed grabbing your legs to help put your shoes on. 

“I don't want to intrude, Wonnie..”

“You’re not an intrusion, Y/N.” He sighs, tying your shoes tightly. He rests his forehead on your knee and takes a deep breath. “I’m not taking any risks, not with you..you’re not staying here. I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.” He looks up at you and his eyes are glassed over and his bottom lip is quivering. He is trying so hard to keep it together for you, but he’s terrified. 

“Go with him, Y/N..please. It’s not safe here..” Jen sniffled, grabbing her suitcase from the bed. 

You didn’t want to worry either of them unnecessarily. Maybe a change of scenery would be good. You needed space from the University and you needed to heal away from here. “Are you sure it’s safe?” 

“Y/N,we have an off campus apartment. It's safer than here, baby..” 

“Are you sure they're okay if I stay?”

“Of course, you’re always welcome.” 

“Alright, I’ll go.”

You both walked Jen to her cab, Jungwon insisting on making sure she got into it safely. You hugged her tightly. “Text me when you get there, I love you.” You mumbled into her hair. You were both lucky that housing roomed you two together, you had been inseparable since move-in day. Only having been friends for a few short weeks you had grown to love and care for her. You wanted her safe, and she needed to get out of here.

“I love you too..stay close to Jungwon until I get back.” She whispered and kissed your cheek. She parted from you with a final hand squeeze and got in her cab and shut the door. She rolled down the window, “Keep our girl safe Wonnie.” 

“With my life.” He smiled softly, waving her off. 

You watched her cab drive off and wanted to cry again. A part of you felt like she wouldn’t come back, she packed for way more than a few days. But you couldn’t blame her, you couldn’t imagine what she had seen. You only hoped this wouldn’t be goodbye and you’d be reunited with her eventually. Jungwon grabbed your hand, breaking your thoughts, “come on.”

He tossed your duffle bag into the backseat of his car and opened his passenger door for you, helping you in and even buckling your seatbelt for you. He was treating you like glass, afraid you could break at any moment. You felt like glass, all you needed was one more thing to hit you and you’d break. Maybe you should go home too, but you could never leave Jungwon behind. You were the only family he had, aside from his roommates Heeseung and Sunghoon, and you didn’t know them well.

Jungwon met the two older guys in his computer class the first week of University, all three hitting it off instantly bonding over videogames. They offered their spare room to him after finding out Jungwon was sharing a single dorm room with three guys thanks to a housing mistake.

“It's been a while since you’ve seen Heeseung and Sunghoon. Heeseung is excited, he’s making your favorite for dinner, pasta.” He smiles starting the car. “At least he likes me, Sunghoon hates me..” You murmur leaning your head against the car window. The two times you met him at Jungwon’s apartment he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but near you. 

Sunghoon was polite, but he didn’t smile at you and he seemed tense the entire time, with his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. And any time he did look at you he had this unreadable hard expression on his face, it was unsettling. It made you feel like he didn’t want to be around you which is why you made every excuse to not hang out at Won’s place. 

Heeseung on the other hand was a sweetheart, his big bambi like eyes caught your attention first, his infectious smile and dorky humor had you laughing all night. He was warm and inviting to be around. Also, very affectionate like Jungown, hugging you and ruffling your hair, even kissing your cheek goodnight on the way out. 

“He’s just shy, I promise he likes you. He just has to get to know you better is all” Jungwon smiled pulling out of the campus parking lot. You hummed softly and watched the traffic as Wonnie drove. You felt numb, at first you didn’t pay mind to these killings but now it was close to home..Ghostface took Yeonjun from you. It felt personal. 

Thankfully, Jungwon’s apartment was only a twenty minute drive from the dorms. He grabbed your duffle and held your hand as you walked up the steps to the door. It was a cute little complex, Jungwon definitely got lucky to live in a place like this as a first year University student. You walked into their shared apartment and nervously smiled at the two boys lounging on their couch in the living room playing a random video game on their flat screen.

“Hey Y/N! Welcome!” Heeseung stood up, pausing his game to wrap his arms around you tightly, “it’s been a while!” He was much taller than Jungwon, his body engulfed yours with his hug. It was comforting, something about Heeseung and Jungwon’s hugs felt safe. 

“Thanks for having me…” your eyes land on Sungoon who was sitting on the sofa still, manspreading, with his phone in his hand texting. “It’s nice to see you Sunghoon..” you try to break the tension with the quiet boy.  “Hey.” his voice was monotone as he shifted his eyes from his screen to you, only for a second. 

“I'm glad you’re here. The University dorms aren't safe right now.” Heeseung sighed, rubbing the sides of your arms soothingly, “I’m um..I’m really sorry to hear about your friend..” 

You tensed and met his worried gaze, tears stinging your waterline. “I have to go to the bathroom..sorry..” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze and walking to Jungwon’s room before they could see you cry. You could hear Jungwon talk to Heeseung before you shut the door. Sitting on his bed you covered your mouth with your hand and cried trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. Fuck, this hurts so bad.

You stay like that for a few minutes trying to calm yourself, you knew Heeseung meant well, but hearing it makes it real. You weren’t ready to deal with it. 

The cell phone you keep in your pocket starts to vibrate, Jen must have made it home. Pulling it out you see the UNKNOWN NUMBER flash on your screen. Maybe it’s Jen? She’s notorious for letting her phone die and was always quick to use whoever's phone that’s around her. It could be her parents phone she’s calling from. 

“Hello? Jen?”

There’s a light static sound followed by a deep distorted chuckle, “hello, Bunny.”

The nickname had Yeonjun’s face flash in your brain before feeling the uncomfortable churn in your stomach. You were shaking, you clutched the phone harder in your hand turning your knuckles white.  

“I-I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, Bunny, bunny, bunny. What am I going to do with you?”

You felt all the air leave your lungs and your chest felt like it was caving in. Shaking your head, you hang up the phone and throw it on Jungwon’s dresser. No fucking way. This was not happening. Was that..Ghostface? That couldn’t be Ghostface. No way. 

Replaying the distorted voice saying ‘bunny’ over and over in your head was sending you spiraling. The once sweet nickname rolling off the tongue of the boy you wanted so badly was now being tainted by a monster. Choked sobs racked your body, how many more times could you break down before it was enough to kill you? How would he know that nickname? Nobody but Yeonjun ever called you that..was someone stalking you? Why is this happening? Oh, god..were you..next? 

Panic. 

“Wonnie?! Won?!” you yell sprinting out of the bedroom. Sunghoon watches you from the same spot on the couch with furrowed eyebrows as you frantically search the apartment for your best friend. Heeseung emerges from the kitchen in an apron and a mixing bowl full of salad in hand, “are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost..” Sunghoon says, cocking his head to the side with a small humorless smile. Wait..what? 

Jungwon walks into the apartment holding an empty laundry basket, "what's going on?" he asks as he sees your worried expression. He must have been in the laundry room. You run to him and wrap your arms around him tightly making him drop the basket, “please don’t leave me alone..” you softly beg still crying.

“Never baby, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, patting your hair and rubbing your back. You shake your head and bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t push it, he knows you’re vulnerable right now. He just assumes your tears are for Yeonjun.

“Dinner is almost ready, Y/N. You should try to eat something and you can sleep, you need it.” Heeseung softly says walking back to check on the food he’s cooking. “He’s right baby, you haven’t eaten all day and your body must be exhausted.” Jungwon whispers kissing your temple. How could you eat? After that? After everything? Do you tell Jungwon about the call? 

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble looking up at him. 

“Oh come on, Y/N. You need to eat something,” Sunghoon’s voice startled you. You look at him as he walks toward the kitchen, smirking at you, “you’ll need your strength.” 

A loud vibration disturbs your slumber. You groan and try to ignore it, but it keeps going. You reach over to feel for Jungwon but he’s not in bed. Opening your eyes and squinting at his alarm clock, 2:47 a.m. Looking at his side of the bed, it's empty. Where was he? You fell asleep together..

The loud buzzing catches your attention again, you notice it's your phone on his dresser. It stops only for a few seconds before ringing again. Standing on shaky legs to walk to his dresser and pick it up but it stops ringing again. 7 missed calls. You jump when it starts vibrating again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

It was obvious whoever this was wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. You weren’t going to be a part of this. You powered the phone off and shoved it in the top drawer. You couldn’t deal with this, you were going back home first thing in the morning. Fuck this school, fuck these shitty detectives that couldn’t find this asshole, just fuck everything. 

A harsh vibration startles you, causing you to jump and yelp. “Fuck!” 

Jungwon’s phone on his nightstand lights up and starts ringing. There’s no fucking way..But panic creeps up your neck. Where is Jungwon? Does Ghostface have Jungwon?...Why else would he call both your phone numbers..

UNKNOWN NUMBER

You take a deep breath, you have to find Jungwon.

“Hello..?”

“Hello, Y/N. I want to play a game.” The voice distorted laughs. Your stomach drops, this is real. 

“I’m hanging up..”

“If you hang up, I’ll slit your precious Jungwon’s throat.”

“W-wonnie?!” Your voice came out shaky. Your worst fears become reality, Ghostface had Jungwon. 

Clutching the cell phone, you try to keep it together. You have to be strong. 

“Wh-where is he?”

You step out of the bedroom into the living room in hopes he's there and this is some cruel prank. But, he's not there. The living room is dark, only the street lights giving a warm orange glow around the quiet home. 

“I want to play a game, dumb baby.”

Your eyes land on Heeseung and Sunghoon’s closed bedroom doors, were they in danger too? Stepping forward to Heeseung’s door you reach out to grab the door knob. “If you touch that door I’ll kill your ‘Wonnie’ right now.” The distorted voice spat, making you freeze in place.

The realization that Ghostface could see you made you panic more. Frantically looking around the dark home for any sign of him. Walking in circles in hopes to see something, anything. “What do you want from me!?” You yell into the phone sobbing.  

“I told you dumb baby, I want to play a game.”

There was no getting out of this, but you had to try. Jungwon wouldn’t abandon you and you couldn’t abandon him. “F-fine. But..but only if Jungown is safe.”

“He’ll be safe, as long as you win the game.”

“What game?” your voice barely whispers as you stand in the center of the living room. A loud creak from Won’s bedroom catches your breath in your throat.“...it's called catch the dumb baby”

Pure fear and adrenaline courses through your body carrying your feet faster than you could think and you run toward the front door. Throwing it open, you scream, there he was, Ghostface stood hovering over you. In his classic black robe and the famous white scream mask covered in dirt and speckles of dried blood. His head was tilted to the side, he had a syringe in hand, he shook his head looking at you.

“Dumb baby, you lose.”

Taking a cautious step back, you bump into a hard figure, turning your head only slightly only to see another Ghostface mask out of your peripheral vision. Standing just as tall as the one blocking the front door. 

Fuck.

It all happened so fast, before you could blink or open your mouth to scream for help, the one behind you grabbed you, covering your mouth and pinning your arms to your side with one of his long arms. He maneuvered your face upward harshly exposing your neck to the Ghostface with the syringe. You felt the pin prick in your neck and your body slumped against the one holding you. Whatever they gave you was fast acting and you lost all movement in legs and arms. You slump against the Ghostface holding you, unable to stand on your feet. 

I failed you Wonnie..I’m so sorry.

Your sobs are muffled behind his gloved hand, feeling yourself slowly slip away from reality.

Cold, that’s the first thing you felt. Your limbs feel heavy, mouth dry and head full of eye burning pressure. Everything is blurry and the only thing your vision can make out is the mattress on the floor you’ve been placed on, laid on your side. Realizing you’re also fully nude you try to move your limbs to cover your body and give it some warmth but they’re too heavy to move under whatever sedation they gave you. 

“Our pretty girl is finally awake.” 

Snapping your head to the bottom of the mattress your vision can make out the two figures standing at the edge. Their voices are no longer distorted but the masks are still on. 

“Dumb baby made it too easy,” 

Wait..that voice..He took his mask off first, shaking his hair out of his face. Bambi eyes fully drinking you in. It was terrifying how quickly the doe eyes you trusted narrowed darkly. No signs of innocence, just wild, black, and hungry. Heeseung..Heeseung was Ghostface, he’s the one that drugged you.

Looking at the other Ghostface figure, you already knew who it had to be..He took his mask off, throwing it to the side, a wide smile showing his fangs to you. The first time you had actually seen him smile with his teeth. The smile was anything but friendly. It was deranged and held no humor or comfort behind it. Sunghoon.

“What the fuck..” Your voice cracked and raw, it hurt to talk “Why..I trusted you..Won-wonnie trusted you.”

“Why? God, I hate that fucking question.” Sunghoon snorted, removing the black Ghostface robe off his body, leaving him shirtless and in black denim jeans. He really did, it pissed him off. They all sounded the same when he killed them, why me? What did I do? Why are you doing this? Blah, blah, blah. 

“Does there really have to be a reason why?” Heeseung smiled, nose wrinkling. How could someone that looked as sweet as Heeseung do something like this?

“Stop teasing her Heeseung. We had a good reason to kill each one of those assholes, pretty girl, do you really want all the gory details?” Sunghoon smirked, cocking an eyebrow. You shook your head, you were already on the verge of puking. You didn’t want to know. 

“Are you sure? Because...there was a special one in particular.. we had a really good reason why he had to die.” Heeseung said in a sing song voice. 

Sunghoon dropped his smile and glared at Heeseung, they agreed not to bring him up. Not that he cared about him, or regretted it, he just didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be. Heeseung could feel Sunghoon’s glare on him, he didn’t care. It broke his heart when you agreed to that date, Heeseung spent the whole day crying and screaming when he found out. Really? Choi fucking Yeonjun.

You hurt him, and he wanted to hurt you back. 

Heeseung dropped his body on the mattress and crawled down next to where you were laying and caressed your face gently, “you definitely should have turned down that date with that loser Yeonjun.” Heeseung said in a whisper. Despite the soft voice he used he was boiling in anger at saying that fuckers name. Heeseung took great pleasure in slitting that motherfucker's throat. He never liked getting messy, letting Sunghoon take most of the credit when it came to the murders, but when he heard you were going on a date with Choi fucking Yeonjun he wanted that kill. He craved it. You signed that poor bastard's death warrant when you said yes. Dumb baby. 

God, the way his eyes looked when his blade went into his neck sent him on the most euphoric high he had ever been on. He didn’t mean to cut his neck so deep, but fuck, how dare that motherfucker even think he had the slightest chance to have you. Even watching him bleed out and choke on his blood wasn’t enough, he had to suffer. Driving his blade into his chest over and over until Sunghoon had to physically pull him off of that stupid fucker. 

“You killed him..you killed Yeonjun..” you cried. You were the reason he was dead, it was your fault. “Oh god..Junnie..” You wanted to die, you didn’t deserve to live. You wanted to trade places with Yeonjun, he didn’t deserve that..How could Heeseung do something so vile?

His nickname has Heeseung seeing red. You dumb baby, are you really crying in front of me over him?! He grabbed his knife. “Heeseung,” Sunghoon warned. He wasn’t listening. He pushed your body flat down on the mattress and straddled your waist in a matter of seconds. He held his blade against your neck, the same one he used on him, he was shaking with anger. You had never seen this side of him, the snarl on his face, his eyes wild and black, his honey skin turning red, he was terrifying.  

“What the fuck did you call him?” He pressed the knife harder against your skin, you cried out feeling the blade break skin. He watched his knife tear a thin layer into your skin, blood seeping out. Not enough to cause any major damage, just barely tearing through the first layer of skin. “Do I have to carve my name into your fucking skin so you know who you fucking belong to?!” He was screaming at you only inches from your face. 

“Enough, Heeseung! Get off of her.” Sunghoon grabbed him by the back of his neck, shoving him aside. Heeseung always got a little too emotional when it came to you. Sunghoon had to keep him level headed or else any person who even accidentally looked in your direction would end up dead. 

“Forgive him, pretty girl.” He kneeled next to you, “he’s just protective of you” Sunghood smiled wiping your falling tears. His fingers grazed the line Heeseung made on your throat, coating the tips of them with your blood. He brought them to his lips and licked them clean. Humming softly at the taste of metallic. He couldn’t resist, his body and soul desired to taste every part of you. The scene makes you want to gag in disgust. 

Heeseung rubbed his temples and sighed, he didn’t mean to scare you. He looked at you apologetically. “Sorry sweetheart..I just don’t like you saying his name. You belong to us…and the thought of anyone touching or looking at what’s mine..makes me insane.” He leaned down to your neck and placed soft kisses on the cut he made. “Seungie will kiss it all better.” He mumbled against your skin. 

You laid there emotionless. Had you missed signs of their obsession? Did you ever say something that gave them the wrong idea? You barely talked to them, why? Why is this happening?

Was this really your fault?

You were trapped here, Yeonjun was dead because of you and Jungwon is missing because of you. It was your fault.  

“You know, pretty girl, I heard from a little bird that you think I hate you,” Sunghoon mused, twirling pieces of your hair around his fingers. He pushed Heeseung’s face off of your neck and climbed on top of you, caging you with his arms on either side of your face. You looked so scared and helpless underneath him and it was only turning him on even more.

“I don’t hate you, pretty girl, in fact I love you. I love you so much it's kind of scary. I crave you. I want every part of you. I want to fucking break you so we’ll be the only ones you’ll ever need.” 

You just stared up at him as he spoke, you had never seen this side of him before. The stone features he always gave you were replaced by lustful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. “Do you know how hard it was to watch you all this time and not act on all of the things I dreamed about doing to you?”

Heeseung was lying next to you on his side, propping his head on his hand while watching Sunghoon stare down at you. Finally, you were here, they had you right where they wanted you. Everything they did was for you, their girl. “It’s true, we’ve talked about this for so long and now you’re finally here. It’s almost like a dream come true.” Heeseung grinned tracing your delicate facial features with his fingers. 

“Wh-what are you going to do to me..” your broken voice going straight to their cocks. 

“Now that..pretty girl..is a good fucking question.” Sunghoon smiled leaning down rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. Their “affectionate” touches felt anything but sweet. “What are we going to do with her Seung?” his voice condescending. 

Heeseung chuckled softly and placed wet open mouth kisses on your shoulder down your arms, “I don’t even know where to start..but I’m growing impatient here..” Heeseungs’s hips grinded against your bare thigh and you could feel his hardening cock in his sweats. Fuck, he needed to calm down or he was going to cum before they even got to the good part. 

“Me too..our pretty girl has kept us waiting long enough.” Sunghoon smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. Licking the streaks of wet tears on your cheeks. Reality hits you like lightning and your fight or flight finally kicks in at the realization. They’re going to rape you..

There was no way in hell you could take on two grown men, especially in your state, but you couldn’t go down without somewhat of a fight. Jungwon would want you to fight. You couldn't control your limbs, you could only twitch the tips of your fingers but you could roll your head, maybe that would be enough. Maybe.

You jerk your head as hard as you can toward Sunghoon’s face since he was closest to your head, it wasn’t a lot of force. But your forehead made direct contact with his nose, not enough to break but enough that had a few drops of blood trickle out and land on your cheek, he let out a slight groan from his throat. 

Heeseung scoffed a laugh and shook his head. If you thought he was bad when he was mad..you weren’t ready for Sunghoon, “dumb baby, that was stupid of you.”

Sunghoon wiped the blood from his nose on the back of his hand before making eye contact with you again, his gaze was unreadable which made it more scary. His hand shoots out at you and harshly grabs your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply abruptly. He brought your your face closer to his, “I was going to be nice and take it slow with you pretty girl, but you fucked that up..” His voice is low and slow and his demeanor shifted.

You couldn’t breathe and your face was turning red from the lack of oxygen, your choking sounds and wet cheeks only turning Sunghoon on more. Wet gurgling sounds, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t even lift your arms to try and pry him off of you. Fuck, he needed to get his cock into you fast. He let your neck go but before you could catch your breath he slapped you, with so much force it jerked your head to the side.

“Hoon, we agreed not her face!” Heeseung scoffed, grabbing your face softly placing soft kisses against the cheek Hoon backhanded you on. Heeseung was all for forceful punishment to keep you in your place, but never on your face. Why would he want to hit something so perfect? He told Sunghoon that, never your face, any other part of your body was fair game.  

“I didn’t agree to shit Heeseung, if she’s going to act like a fucking brat I’m going to treat her like one.” Sunghoon moved his body up, carefully placing his knees on both sides of your arms hovering over your chest, careful to not drop any of his weight on you. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them low enough to release his aching cock from its restraint. 

You turned your head to the side in a panic and squeezed your eyes shut refusing to look at him. “Please..please Hee-Heeseung..don’t let him..don’t let him do this..please..” you sobbed. It was clear Sunghoon was the one in charge and Heeseung would be your only chance at a saving grace. If you could, you wanted to reach any remorseful part of him to help you. 

He smiled softly and stroked your stinging cheek turning your head to face him. You opened your eyes hoping to see him take your cries and begs into consideration. “Dumb baby, you were a bad girl. We don’t want to punish you but you’re going to have to learn the rules. And rule one is to be a good girl for us. You were naughty for hitting Hoonie, after everything he’s done to keep you safe. You're going to have to make it up to him.” Kissing your sore cheek he looks up at Sunghoon with his big doe eyes and nods.

Sunghoon grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head straight forcing you to look up at him, “I’m going to train you to be a good obedient girl…you bite me, and I’ll slit Jungwon’s throat in front of you.” Bottom lip trembling you nod. They knew you would do anything for Jungwon’s safety, and they were going to use that to their advantage. Letting go of your hair his hand runs down your face softly taking in every beauty mark, eyelash, and the smear of his blood on your cheek. So fucking pretty.

He taps your bottom lip with his thumb, “open.”

Closing your eyes, you refuse to even look at him while he does this, you obey. He leans forward positioning himself over your open mouth, tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. Steadying himself with his right hand he uses his left to guide himself into your mouth. A long strained groan rumbles in his throat, your mouth felt better than he imagined. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He drags the underside of his cock on your tongue slowly before quickly forcing his full length in your mouth. 

He’s careful to not slam his full weight onto your face with each drag of his cock. The amount of spit and precum forced down your throat made you gag around him struggling to breath, but your noises made him fuck your face faster, salty fat tears pooling into your ears. 

He continued to pull out and thrust his aching cock back in, making sharp painful jabs down your throat. The way your mouth gagged and struggled around him only had his orgasm approaching quicker. His pace grew more unsteady and quick as he felt his high approaching. You tried your best to relax your throat around him, but it was too uncomfortable and the way his stomach hit the tip of your nose with each hard thrust only added to your misery. “O-oh fuck,” he grunted and forced himself even deeper into your throat, your nose completely smushed against his stomach blocking all your airways. 

His cum spilled from his cock and down your throat as you struggled not to choke. You swallowed as much as you could in a panic trying to find a way to breathe. Some of it seeped out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin. His body shuddered at the tight contraction of your throat, he stilled himself for a few seconds to catch his breath.

He pulled himself out of your mouth slowly, watching the strings of spit and his seed connect his softening cock to you. What a sight for sore eyes, he can’t imagine an even more perfect vision of you as he watched you cough and choke trying to catch your breath. He climbs off of you and lays beside you to really take a minute to admire how perfect you look right now. Your face is red, spit and cum dribbling from your chin, tears still falling. He wanted to burn this image of you in his head forever. He tapped your mouth with his index finger, “open.” 

You open your mouth. Sunghoon smiles, you’re listening. Maybe breaking you in was going to be easier than he thought. Leaning in he licks his cum and your spit from your chin before sticking his tongue in your mouth, making sure every part of your mouth tastes entirely of him. 

“You did good, pretty girl,” He mumbles, “made me feel so fucking good..”pulling away and pecking your lips softly. He smiles and looks at Heeseng on the opposite side of you. “You can reward her.” 

Heeseung smiles brightly and practically jumps on top of you. Immediately latching his mouth to yours, Sunghoon notices you’re not kissing him back and clicks his teeth. “Pretty girl, don’t be rude, Seungie is trying to reward you. Do you want to be punished again? Or should I go grab Jung-”

You don’t let him finish, squeezing your eyes shut you kiss Heeseung back, you need to. You needed to for Jungwon. You can feel Heeseung smile against your puckered lips. Lightly nipping your bottom lip before he slips his tongue inside and gently massages yours. Unlike Sunghoon, Heeseung was softer and took his time exploring your mouth. Not even caring Sunghoon’s cum was just in there he happily slurped everything his tongue swiped. 

You kissed him back like your life depended on it..because it did..Jungwon was your life.. 

He pulls away with a small hum, a string of spit still connecting your tongues together. “I wonder if every part of you tastes as sweet as your mouth..” He kisses your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. His eyes locked onto yours as he moved lower, his face hovering over your left breast. He lightly traces your nipple with the tip of his tongue and smirks at the way your body shivers underneath him and how your back slightly arches off the mattress, Sunghoon catches it too. 

Heeseung smiles at you sweetly before moving even lower. “I’m going to make you feel so good..” He slots himself between your legs and places your legs over his shoulders. He kisses the inside of your thigh, “I love you..so much..” The “loving” act only adds insult to injury in the situation. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t force you to do this. 

Hesseung dragged his tongue along your folds and you squirmed. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed against your core. The amount of times he's snuck into your dorm and stolen your dirty panties to shove in his mouth while he jerked off couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. Only a few seconds in and he was already pussy drunk on your taste and smell.

You bit down on your bottom lip hard as he worked slowly through your folds; teasing you as he flicked his tongue across your clit. Your fingers dug into the mattress, your knuckles turning white. You refuse to make a sound..you won’t give them the satisfaction. Heeseung watches you as he takes your clit  into his mouth and sucks hard. The first moan accidentally slips past your lips at the sensation. You couldn’t withhold the pathetic noise you made and you felt shame. Your breath hitched and your eyelids started to flutter as his tongue skillfully worked its way through your folds licking and sucking every crevice before dipping into your hole. He groans loudly, as he starts to tongue fuck your hole feeling you clench around him. His hips started grinding against the mattress aching for some relief on his cock. 

Sunghoon studies your face, he knows you're holding back. “It feels good doesn't it pretty girl..let him hear more of those pretty sounds.” You glare at him, but you know your body is betraying you. Your face is flushed, legs shaking around his head, stomach caving in every time he hits that special spot. “Let Seungie…” He grabs a handful of Heeseung’s hair and presses him harder against your cunt, “hear you.”

You screw your eyes shut and moan at the newly applied pressure of Heeseung’s nose on your clit. Heeseung’s hooded eyes watch you as you arch and moan out. He pulls away slightly and spits on your pussy, adding more moisture before running the pads of his fingers through your folds making you shudder harder and throw your head back. He collects his spit and your arousal around his pointer and middle finger before shoving both of them inside of you.

“Ah!”

“Stretch her nice and good Seungie..”Sunghoon smiled, leaning down and capturing your lips in another dirty kiss of tongue and teeth. The room filled with the disgusting squelching sounds of your pussy around Heeseungs fingers. Heeseung’s tongue went back to working on your clit as continued to finger fuck you at a fast relentless pace. He could feel how close you were by the way you were gripping him. You tried to hold it, you tried to move your hips away, he just held your waist down with his free hand and sucked harder. Against your will, it happened, your stomach concaved and you cried out in Sunghoon’s mouth feeling your forced release gush out of you. Sunghoon pulled away from your mouth so he could watch your face when you cum.

So pretty.

The way you sounded was enough to make Heeseung cum in his pants. “Fuck, I need to be inside of you right now..” Loud sobs rack your body, this was it..”do-don’t do this..” Heeseung stripped quickly, not bothering to wipe your cum off of his face. “Hee-Heeseung, please..please don’t..”

Sunghoon sighed and kissed your forehead, “pretty girl, Seungie let you cum, don’t be rude. Be a good girl and let him cum too..I don’t want to have to kill Jungwon because of you. This is supposed to be a special night.” 

Jungwon. You had to for Jungwon.

“Not-not inside. Don't cum.. Not inside..please..”

He looked at Heeseung, and they shared an unspoken conversation through their eyes. “Okay, pretty girl. Seungie won’t cum inside of you..tonight..”

Heeseung ran his hand up and down his length, lubricating himself with his precum. He placed his thick cock head at your entrance and you whimpered from sensitivity from your orgasm. He pushed into you sharply. You gasped, screwing your eyes shut as he forced himself all the way to his base, allowing no time for you to adjust his large size. 

“Oh my god…” He panted, closing his eyes. His self control is no longer present, he pulled out of you slowly and slammed back in setting a pace. He was thrusting into you just as violently as he had entered you, his pace was unrelenting as he worked into your tight gummy walls. You whined with each jolt of force from his thrusts. Your back arched in pain, fingernails clawing helplessly at the mattress. You could hear the change in his breathing signaling he was nearing his own release. At least he was fast, this would be over soon. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, of course Heeseung was going to cum already, he didn’t know how to pace himself. But more annoying, he was going to finish before you, treating you like some quick random hookup. He was going to have to talk to him about that later. To Sunghoon, your pleasure came before theirs, unless of course you were being punished. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on the bud and slipped his hand down to your cunt.

His skillful fingers found your clit and he rubbed the nub tenderly, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The pain from Heeseung’s cock quickly turned into pleasure. Your pained squeaks and whines tuning into soft moans and pants. Heeseung’s hands went to your waist as he held your hips in place rutting against you faster. Your eyes fluttered shut as you started to shake under him, unable to fend off the building orgasm, thanks to Sunghoon. Small grunts escaping his parted lips, the only sound he was capable of making. He was too lost in the feel of your pussy. 

“Cum on Seungie’s cock pretty girl..” Sunghoon smiled, releasing your nipple from his mouth. He rubbed your clit harder causing a loud moan to bubble from you. Your back arched off the mattress as you were suddenly overwhelmed with white hot pleasure, his fingers helping draw forth your second orgasm.

So fucking pretty.

You clenched hard around Heeseung as you came, he snapped his hips forward harshly and a deep whine escaped his lips. He hung his head back and pulled out of you quickly, he hissed wrapping his hand around his red sensitive cock and jerked himself off above you. His cum spurting out of the red tip, strings of his seed coating your stomach, and reaching your breasts. 

His chest rose fast and hard as he collapsed next to you, sweat gathered on his forehead, he smiled softly at you. “Thank you baby..so good..so good for me..” He mumbled kissing your lips in soft little pecks. Sunghoon grabbed one of their discarded Ghostface robes and wiped Heeseung’s cum off of you. “Excuse him, pretty girl, he apparently doesn’t know how to be a gentleman.”

“Fuck you,” Heeseung grumbled. “I couldn’t help it, she’s so tight and warm.” He hummed relishing in the way your sweet little pussy gripped his tongue, fingers, and cock. He wasn’t phased by how quickly he came, he has all the time in the world to learn your body and how to pace himself. All the time in the world. 

You felt disgusting at the way they have your body reacting to their touches. 

Sunghoon discarded the rest of his clothes away and took his position on his knees in between your aching legs. You blinked a few tears away, you already knew he was going to have his turn with you but it didn’t stop the fear. You had to do this. They had Jungwon and you were his only chance at making it out of this alive. 

You made the mistake of looking down at him and let out a shaky breath. He was ready for you; he was fully hard and throbbing, from the way your mouth struggled to accommodate him you knew this was going to hurt. He saw the worried look on your face and cupped your cheek, “it won’t hurt after a while. I’m going to train your little pussy how to take it pretty girl. Hoonie’s going to take care of you.” 

He kissed you tenderly, “I love you.”

He feels your legs twitch around him, and sees your arms twitch at your sides, only meaning the drug will be wearing off soon. He didn’t want you to realize that and start acting out again, he smiled at Heeseung, “Seungie will you hold our girl for me? She’s a little nervous and maybe you can comfort her.” 

Heeseung was more than happy to oblige. He moved to the side of the mattress and sat with his back against the wall. Sunghoon picked your body up and moved you over to Heeseungs awaiting arms. He sits you with your back and head pressed against Heeseung’s firm chest, Heeseung hooks his hands under your knees and spreads your legs open wide for Sunghoon. Hit bites his bottom lip at the sinful sight of you sprawled out like this waiting for him. Your wet and swollen pussy only looks more appetizing for him when you're being held like this.

“Keep her there Seung,” He smirks gripping the base of his cock as he moved closer to you. He rubbed the tip along your folds, coating it in your juices. Your body jerks at the sensitivity from your previous two orgasms.

“Be a good girl for Hoonie, and he’ll give you a special treat.” Heeseung whispered, kissing the crown of your head. Unless the treat was Jungwon you didn’t care. You wanted this over fast, you prayed he’d be as fast as Heeseung. 

Sunghoon watches you intently as he slides into your tight cunt. A low rumble in his chest feeling you suck him in and tighten. “Fuck....” He bottoms out and it hurts how full you are. More tears spill from your eyes, your mouth dropped in a silent scream. He can see the outline of his cock in your stomach and it fuels his fire.

“Look at that, I'm all the way..” He presses down on the bulge of his cock under your belly button, “in here.” You involuntary moan at the pressure and you clench around him.

He chuckles as he starts to move. Every movement from him has him deeper inside you. Your walls unwillingly cling to him and you close your eyes not wanting to see him. You want so desperately to mentally check out and forget where you and what's happening to you, but you can’t as he brings you back to the harsh reality with each burning thrust.

“God, pretty girl, you feel so good..” The sounds of your bodies slapping together, the disgusting sloppy squelching sounds of your pussy only fueling his animalistic desires. He wasn’t gentle with you, each thrust inside of you jerked your entire body upward and had you sliding up and down on Heeseung’s chest. You were still sore from Heeseung’s assault on you and the pain of Sunghoon’s thick cock ramming into you had your entire pelvic region burning. Whimpering louder each time he rocked into you.

“Look at me,” He growled. 

You hesitantly open your eyes and look at his sweaty face, he watches you with hooded dark eyes, he has an odd look in his eye. The same one Heeseung sees when Sunghoon has his blade buried in someone. He was gone. 

“Say my name.” 

“W-Wha-”

He slaps you, the action splitting your lip open. You cry out and try to move but Heeseung’s grip on your legs is firm, keeping you open for Sunghoon’s continued assault on your pussy. He thrusts into you harder, gripping your hips hard, digging his fingers into your flesh, bruising the skin. “Say my fucking name. NOW!”

“S-Sun-Sungho-hoon..” Blood is dribbling from your wounded lip down your chin.

“Again!”

“Sunghoon!”

“Keep saying it..” He grunts.

Lowering his face to yours he licks the blood from your chin. Watching you shake and write underneath him had his orgasm nearing. He guides your hips up and down on his shaft, impaling you deeper on him with each painful thrust on his thick cock. Groaning at the sight of your creamy essence coating him, he wasn’t going to last long. He gave a particular hard thrust that had you squealing and kicking your legs, a cheshire grin taking over his face.

He found it. 

He keeps hitting that spot with all of his strength and watches the way your eyes cross and roll back helplessly. You’re screaming his name over and over, it was happening again. The knot in your belly is ready to snap. “Cum for me..cum for me and I’ll breed you..” He breathes reaching between your bodies and rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of this tumb.

“NO!” you screamed, “you-you said-” 

He laughs breathlessly, throwing his head back. Heeseung gave you the appropriate nickname, you really were just a dumb baby. He rubs your nub harder, “pretty girl, I said Seungie wouldn’t cum in you..I never said I wouldn’t cum inside of you..cum for me..come on baby..let go for us..” 

The tip of his cock hits your spot and you squeak loudly, unable to stop it, throwing your head back on Heeseung’s chest letting your orgasm hit you hard. Your body convulses as you clench around Sunghoon coating the entirety of his cock in your release. He chokes out a moan, thrusting only a few more times before he stills, painting your insides with his thick white cum. Sealing your fate to him, to them. You’re theirs and you weren’t going anywhere. 

Heeseung held your shaking body closely as you tried to catch your breath. He was whispering sweet praises in your ears and kissing your wet cheeks, “such a good girl for us. So perfect..tell Hoonie thank you for your treat..”

“Th-thank you..Ho-Hoonie..”

Sunghoon smiled widely at his nickname rolling off your tongue, he gently pulled out of your sore cunt and smirked looking at the creamy mess leaking out of your gaping hole, “you’re very welcome pretty girl.” He kissed you tenderly, lightly licking at the remaining blood left on your busted lip.

A few minutes had passed and the post orgasm brain fog was finally clearing and you gasped remembering Jungwon. Lifting your head off of Heeseung’s chest and searching around the dark room panicked. Sunghoon was still kneeling in front of you and Heeseung, he watched your panicked gaze with an amused smirk. He wasn’t stupid he knew what you remembered.

“Where is he? Wh-where is Jungown? Can I see him..please..” You asked slowly, afraid of the answer. 

A small breathless laugh left Heeseungs lips, Sunghoon moved from his place in front of you and sat next to you and Heeseung. He grabbed your chin forcing you to look to the side of the room at the dark corner. 

“Ah..pretty girl, why don’t you see for yourself.”

The big “finale” was finally being unveiled. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told you he wanted to break you so all you would ever need is them. 

What? What was he talking about? Jungwon was here? Squinting your eyes to adjust to the darkness you saw him. Sunghoon smiled widely watching your eyes slowly widen with realization, your mouth dropped open and you screamed. The room was spinning, all the air knocked out of your lungs as you felt the bile rise in your throat as you cried and wailed against Heeseung trying to push him off of you, but he kept his grip tight on you. 

You wish they would have just killed you, death would have been better than this. 

Jungown sat in a wooden chair smiling in your direction softly, holding a camcorder. His eyes trained on the tiny camcorder screen before finally looking at you. 

“What’s wrong bunny, aren't you happy to see me?”

#hoonieshoney #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #lee heesung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #kpop smut #the hunt is on #honeys dark content

[alyakthedorklord]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU

First words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin. Jason didn’t understand his for a long time- it looks like an insult, but he has absolutely no idea what it means, both before and after his death.

Eventually, it starts to make a slight bit more sense as Trendy Lingo advanced, and he hears Steph and Tim and some other teens using something similar. Still, he doesn’t understand why they’re said, and so Jason is completely unprepared for when he’s approached randomly by some guy while walking down the street after a particularly violent pit rage.

“Sir, your vibes are rancid.”

Jason freezes. The pit writhes in offense, because what the fuck, but at the same time his heart is beating out of his chest, because what the fuck?

“Oh ancients that sounded rude.” The guy says, eyes widening like he can’t believe he said that. “I mean- I just- are you okay? You don’t feel okay. You feel really, really sick, like your soul got marinated in corrupted ecto, and do you want help?”

Jason keeps staring. The guy is cute, dark hair and blue eyes that seem just a bit too bright to be human, freckles disappearing behind an embarrassed flush.

“I don’t want to overstep, because you’re giving off a whole lot of “fuck off don’t talk to me”, but I didn’t wanna just ignore you because I’m pretty sure a lot of the anger and bad vibes are coming from the corrupted stuff and I’m pretty sure I can help with that? If you don’t want help just tell me to fuck off or punch me in the face and I’ll leave but-”

The stranger takes a nervous step away, and Jason lunges forwards before he can think, everything in him rebelling at the thought of his soulmate leaving, from his own thoughts to the pits themselves.

“Please don’t leave.” He gasps, hands squeezed tight to his soulmates arm despite the twinge of pain from his bloodied knuckles. His soulmate’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropped open, before he breaks into a bright, amazed grin.

“I won’t, I promise.” His soulmate says, reaching up to hold onto Jason’s arms in turn. His touch is cold, even through Jason’s jacket. “I’m staying right here.”

Jason leans into the touch, sagging with relief. He can feel the pits receding, the anger and pain and fear fading as his soulmate gently runs his hand over his back.

He feels, for the first time in a long time, at peace.

“…seriously though, wtf happened to you, you reek of bad death juice.”

#dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #dead on main #soulmate au #they are both so confused #bb jason and bruce tried to ‘decode’ the soulwords #to no avail #meanwhile danny’s looking at his like #‘‘I’m gonna be some traveling ROUGE omg’’

[sp0o0kylights]

I once had to pose in a ton of photos for a friend's AP photography final back in high school so may I present to you:

Steve Harrington, who gave in to Robin's begging that he act as her weird art model for her senior year portfolio (the same one her teacher is encouraging her to bat out of the ballpark and enter into contests.) 

She's doing a whole thing on fashion, subcultures and sexuality using photos and collaged poetry, a project that has Steve trying on different outfits and posing in different places. 

"This might help me land a scholarship, Dingus." She hisses while she's got him bent over her bathtub, spraying parts of his hair blue with wash-out dye.

Steve, soulmate and best friend extraordinaire, goes through it all with minimal (for him) bitching, even if the goth outfit feels absolutely ridiculous, and the 'geek' photoshoot downright laughable.

He starts to have fun when she has him mimic Nancy's straight laced, all A's good girl aura, and equally has a blast with the country look (he has no idea where Robin got a miniature horse but it conned him for every piece of food he had on him and then some.) 

The final piece is the one they're struggling with, the one Robin's now (fake) dying his hair partially blue for. 

A few hours later and he's dressed up once again in a studded leather jacket, the tightest jeans he owns ringed with belts, and combat boots.

 Robin had even talked him into letting her use eyelash glue to attach a few metal studs on his face--two acting as an eyebrow piercing and one on his nose. 

The looks he drew took a minute to get used too when all was said and done, Robin dragging him around Hawkins while she tried to find the 'perfect backdrop' but he's not gonna lie. 

He kinda enjoys being punk Steve.

That is, until Robin has him posing in an alleyway and Eddie Munson comes around the corner, jaw right about falling to the floor.

Even better? 

Eddie doesn't recognize him. 

Not at first, when he siddles up to Steve, nodding to the handkerchief in Steve's back pocket and then flicking the pink triangle pin on his jacket with a finger. 

Steve owes Jonathan a bottle of his father's best alcohol for giving him enough knowledge to get through the music razing Eddie subjects him too, and Steve's all too happy to play the part of punk asshole to Munson's music-snob metalhead.

It's not until Eddies playing with his hair and Robin gives in to letting him have a quick break from the shoot that he gives up the ghost, leaning in to whisper in Eddie's ear. 

"Gotta say, Munson," Steve all but purrs."I wasn't expecting you to fall for the Harrington Charm that fast."

"What?" Eddie asks, jerking his head back to look at him with wide eyes. 

Maybe it's the outfit giving him the extra ounce of courage, but Steve likes to think more that it gives him the freedom to lean forward and brush their lips together. 

Eddie doesn't return it, but that's alright. 

Steve's played this game enough to know that it was merely a hook for a real kiss. 

"Okay." Robin says, annoyed, camera at her side. "Steve, I'm happy that you're finally exploring that repressed as fuck homosexuality we keep arguing about, I really am, but I have to get this last photo!" 

He ignores her, instead nudging Eddie's shoulders.

"Care to pose with me?" Steve asks, grinning. He can tell Eddie still isn't sure if this is a joke, that he's seconds from running, and reaches out to tug on his black handkerchief. "Get Robin her photo, and then talk about this after, Mr. S&M."

Eddie flushes scarlet, but after some reassurance (and wheelding) from Robin, finally agrees. 

(Later, he agrees to a date, which Steve also credits the outfit for.

Even if Robin demands half the credit.) 

#punk steve #except not #steddie #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #just think if Eddie had stumbled over the geek outfit #or the mini horse #micro fic #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[missglaskin]

Yan!Ethan Landry with girlfriend!reader would include:

Please don't report, all it will do is shadowban it

Tags: Yandere, toxic relationship, co-dependency, delusions, mentions of violence, scream6 spoilers, smut, brief perv!Ethan

Ethan is a wolf in sheep's clothing. A shy, dorky guy who no one would ever suspect of harming a fly. Chad introduced you two for the first time. Remembering his flushed face, wide eyes, and slight jolt when you shook hands.

For Ethan, it was love at first sight. Many times you crossed his mind, a fleeting thought he can never shake. He did all he could to catch a glimpse of you again. Feeling his breath shorten when you walked into a room, eyes fixated solely on you, forgetting whatever it was he was doing.

Ethan was eager to learn everything there was to know about you. Hours are spent scrolling through your social media. Him trying to figure out your schedule and which buses/trains you take so he can coincidently be there as well. Not to mention pestering Chad and his friends with endless questions until they push him to befriend you.

And on their advice, Ethan befriends you. As you are to him, he desires to be your closest friend, your soulmate, your everything. Safe to say Ethan attaches himself to your hip-whenever you are, Ethan is near. You don't give it much thought at first, after all this is Ethan you're talking about-the sweet, gullible Ethan.

Ethan goes above and beyond to please you. Offering his jacket because you seemed cold or buying your favorite snacks to cheer you up. And he's always there to console you; the sight of you in tears is enough reason for Ethan to rush to your side and cradle you against him.

But in all his sweetness, you fail to notice the dark look in his eye. You don't see how his grip tightens when you enjoy the company of another. How his jaw clenches when you dismiss your time together in favor of some of your stupid friends. If you were to ask, Ethan would drop everything; why not do the same for him.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when one of your ‘friends’ ends up dead. Their body discovered with numerous stab wounds, almost as if they had been repeatedly stabbed in rage. And as you shed tears in sorrow over your friend, Ethan is there to comfort you, holding you close to him.

Over time, you also begin to notice how many of your things go missing. Unaware of how Ethan jerks off with your panties, imagining him fucking you-stuffing you with his cum. Unaware, he mists his room with your perfume, paying special attention to his pillows, inhaling the scent as he imagines holding you. How much he would give anything to wake up with you by his side.

It was as if the universe was on his side. When Ethan asked you out, he was afraid of your rejection, of hearing "Sorry, I only see you as a friend." But to his complete surprise, the word "yes" was uttered with your lips, and he felt the sudden urge to kiss you. 

He got his wish when he asked for a kiss; you eagerly agreed, moved by his sweetness. The kiss started slow and gentle and for a brief moment, Ethan believed he was dreaming. It was everything he hoped for and more. And before you knew it, he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath away as he did so. 

Ethan became addicted to the feeling of your lips touching his. It didn't matter where you were or what you were doing, your boyfriend will still steal a kiss from you. That or smothering your face with kisses, savoring the sound of your laughter as his arms wrap themselves around your waist.

Even one day apart from you is like asking Ethan to stop breathing. He has lived his entire life without you, but a taste of you in his life has him hooked. He loves you as if he was an alcoholic-refusing to ever let you go. 

But at the end of the day, Ethan is aware of his tendencies. Knowing full well how you will react to his violent and possessive tendencies, yet there is still this slight delusion in Ethan. That maybe after spending so much time with him, that if he were to remove everyone from your life and be the only person left, you will love him with the same ferociously.

You can't recall a time when you went without Ethan's touches. Where you haven't felt his hands roam your body and caress your skin.  He's touch starved; truly. Feeling his hand on your back or reaching for yours as you walk. Pulling you on top of him as you cuddle, nuzzling his face to your neck. But you never complain, do you. 

But…sometimes Ethan lets his tendencies creep in. Not missing the agitated expression on his face when your friends join your company. How he once crashed a can in his hands when you were laughing at some stupid joke they made. Remembering how he once came to you with bruises on his hands and face, all while there was news of another body being found. But even then, how could you suspect anything of your sweet Ethan.

Soon you began ditching your family and friends all for your boyfriend. He always knew the ways to snatch you away. And according to him, the two of you must do everything together. Doing chores? He is happy to help. Looking to binge a show? Don't do it without him. Have to get something from the store? Of course, he will come along. 

Strangely, many of your friends have complained that you ignore their texts or miss their calls. When you question Ethan, he merely shrugs feigning innocence. Several times you caught him looking through your phone. He has given you his (unaware he has another one) this shows that he trusts you, do you not trust him as well? Besides, if you are so protective of your phone, you might be hiding something from him; if not, why not let him look. 

If you haven't guessed, boundaries don't exist in Ethan's dictionary. No matter how many times you try to explain it to him, he just doesn't get it. Do you no longer love him, has his presence started to annoy you? What started as a confrontation ended with you consoling him.

Similar to your everyday relationship, Ethan is eager to give. He's addicted to your taste; obsessed with your pretty little pussy. He's like a starved man, satisfying his insatiable hunger. Having you seated on his face with his hands gripping each of your thighs as he devours your dripping cunt. Feeling the vibrations of his moans against your heat.

Your boyfriend is a total horndog, it must be said. The numerous times he whisked you away only for you to have sex in a restroom or an abandoned storage space. He was even worse behind closed doors; there wasn't a surface in the entire damn place that you hadn't fucked on. Even in the early morning or in the wee hours of the night, you can feel the hands creeping between your thighs.

He’s usually so gentle and attentive; it’s expected of him to prioritize your needs over his. But there are times when Ethan shows a different side to himself. Usually, if he observes you being overly friendly with someone else. Removing your clothing with such eagerness that you fear he might rip it. Almost wincing in pain as you feel his fingers digging into your skin. There’s this dark look in his eye as his girthy cock fills you to the brim. The following day, Ethan returns to his usual self and you choose not to mention the bruises he left behind.

With the murders that are occurring through Woodsboro, Ethan uses it as a way to keep you close to him. What would you do if you were being attacked and he wasn't there to protect you. He even insists that you share a dorm from now on.

Ethan may even pull some strings to make Mindy and her friends view you as a suspect. But don’t worry Ethan is there to reassure you that he doesn’t believe you could ever hurt anyone. It appears to be just the two of you. You two against the entire world.

When his plans to get rid of Sam and her friends are carried out. Ethan considers the life that will come after that, the life he will have with you. He has daydreamed many times at night of the two of you owning a home-living together with a ring on your finger. Perhaps some children will be involved, he does believe you'll make a wonderful mother. Wouldn't that just be the perfect life.

#scream x reader #ethan landry x reader #yandere x reader #scream imagine #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #headcanons #x reader #yandere ethan landry #yandere scream #horror x reader #horror headcanons #ethan landry smut #scream smut #scream 6 x reader

[rebelspykatie]

Soulmate AU Part Two

Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Steve doesn’t come to school for a week. Rumors are swirling around about why he suddenly disappeared after he turned 18, people speculating that it’s not Nancy to wildly inaccurate tales about Steve being linked to someone like old Mrs. Click. Nancy shuts down, telling people it’s none of their business but everyone still finds out they broke up.

When he finally comes back to school, Eddie almost can’t stand to see it. His eyes are sunken in, hollowed out with dark circles. The normal golden glow to his skin is gone, leaving a sickly hue and an aura of fuck off attitude. People keep their distance like he has the plague. This just feeds into the rumors that something horrible must’ve happened, especially since Steve has a cuff wrapped around his arm, hiding the name from prying eyes.

Eddie doesn��t engage with the gossip, even when the guys from Corroded Coffin try to shit talk Steve around him. Gareth suspects something but he hasn’t put the pieces together on how Eddie covered up his arm on his birthday and hasn’t let them see his wrist since that day, and how he’s suspiciously quiet in the face of the biggest jock in school having a hard time with whatever news he received. No one thinks anything of it because they were spaced so far apart. Everyone thinks Eddie is sympathizing with Steve’s situation. Instead he’s watching Steve’s life fall apart and it’s all his fault.

Steve can feel Eddie watching him, following him in the corridors, quietly staring at him while the gossip around them grows louder. He doesn’t understand why Eddie hasn’t said a word to him, not when he found out, not for an entire year, and definitely not now, when they both know what the other has written on their wrist. Maybe he’s waiting to see if Steve is going to lose his shit over it. Finally snap and tell everyone to fuck off because his soulmate is the freak and even he doesn’t want Steve.

When Steve was younger, he dreamed of his soulmate, held the imaginary person close when things got hard or when he felt like true love couldn’t possibly be real when the universe paired up people like his parents. But maybe Harringtons weren’t destined for happiness.

Eddie deserves someone better, someone he could love, who understands his interests, not some privileged spoiled rich boy whose idea of romance is flowers and sweet diner dates. Eddie would probably scoff in his face if Steve asked him to go on a date. He can hear the condescending laugh he’d receive if he showed up at Eddie’s trailer with flowers.

But fate, it seems, isn’t done with them. They keep running into each other. It’s inevitable, like clockwork, they’ll be standing at opposite ends of the hallway staring at each other, both too choked up to say anything, brushing past each other without a word. They end up at the nurses office at the same time, staring at the ground to avoid looking at each other until one of them gets called back for help. Steve’s picking up the Mayfield girl while Eddie’s outside smoking and Eddie nearly inhales the blunt when they make eye contact.

It all comes to a head one night, when Steve’s car won’t start and he’s stuck working on it in the parking lot after school. It happens to be on the same night as hellfire, Eddie the last one out of the drama club room, freezing at the edge of the parking lot when he spots Steve.

Part Three 

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #katie writes

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.1

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: mentions of bullying - only one description of it, but it's chill cuz James tells them to fuck off like the king he is? Descriptions of werewolf behaviour idk. Use of Y/N

Synopsis: Remus planned to never fall in love. Moony had other plans.

“Don’t you think she’s just the loveliest thing, Moons?” James spoke in reverence.

Remus needn’t move his gaze from his book to know that Lily Evans just walked into the library – so he didn’t. 

“Sure is, James.”

“Don’t be getting any ideas though.” James said as he nudged his friend. He was clearly trying to go for light and breezy, but Remus caught the nervous twinge in his voice.

“You truly have nothing to worry about, Prongs.” He muttered.

“What? Don’t like birds?” James asked, though he was still watching Lily make her way over to her friends.

“Who doesn’t like birds?” Sirius questioned as he appeared out of nowhere, swatting Remus’ feet off a neighbouring chair and taking the seat for himself.

“Remus, apparently.” Peter answered from behind his book.

Remus finally lowered his book to regard his friends. “That is not what I said.”

“He said he doesn’t like Lily.” James told Sirius, finally turning his attention away from this girl to look at his mate like can you believe this guy?

“I literally just said I agreed that she was lovely.” Remus guffawed.

“If you think she’s so lovely, why don’t you go ask her out then?” Sirius asked with a smirk, causing James to let out a strangled groan. 

“What! No, common that’s like, against the bro code. Oh! Hi Y/N!” James cut himself off as he spotted you entering the library.

“Hello, James.” You greeted serenely as you started towards him. “What has your aura so pink today?”

This caused both Sirius and Remus’ eyebrows to cock, though neither of them interrupted yours and James’ interaction. 

“We were just talking about how lovely Lily is.” James answered solemnly.

“Yes, I suppose that would do it.” You answered as you turned to follow James’ gaze. 

“It’s funny, her aura turns the same colour when she looks at you. I wonder what that could mean.” You said softly, completely missing the way James’ head reared back.

“Well, I must be off. I’ve been trying to check out a book all week, but each time I’ve come to the library I’ve ended up distracted trying to clear the nargles from the shelves. The library is just full of them!” 

Your voice was feather light as you bid a simple goodbye to James who returned it with an easy smile before you floated away.

James turned from your retreating form to see the bemused faces of his friends, sans Peter who still hadn’t raised his head from his book.

“What was that?” Sirius finally asked.

“What was what?” James asked as he furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”

“Since when are you friends with her?” Sirius continued.

“We have care of magical creatures together. She’s tutoring me, actually. She’s really quite nice.” James said as he picked up his own forgotten textbook.

Sirius, still not able to let it go, added, “She’s an odd little bird, isn’t she?” 

James only shook his head. “She’s harmless. People give her a harder time than she deserves.” 

“Perhaps...” Remus acquiesced. “But what the hell is a nargle?” 

“Oh, not a clue.” James answered simply before beginning to work on his Ancient Runes translation.

Remus and Sirius exchanged one more look before moving to their own homework.

It’s not that Remus didn’t know who you were – Hogwarts wasn’t a big enough school to not know the other students in your own year – but there had never been any interactions between your circles of friends. Namely, Remus’ friends and whoever you happened to hang out with never seemed to intertwine. Remus had to assume you had friends – even he had friends, and he was a monster – but he had no idea who they could be. 

Remus had to admit you were a cute little thing, if a little odd as Sirius said. James could be a lot of things, but he always saw the best in people; so, it really shouldn’t have surprised Remus that James had made a friend of you. 

What Remus didn’t yet know was what your newfound friendship with James would mean for him.

“So, what do we think? Does Lily here have some competition?” Marlene joked with a wicked grin as she threw her arm across Lily’s shoulders at the Gryffindor table.

“Competition for what?” Sirius asked around a mouthful of eggs from his spot across from Peter and Remus.

“James, of course.” Dorcas clarified.

Lily groaned. “I was never competing.”

“I mean, who needs tutoring in care of magical creatures? Don’t you just like, show up and feed them? Seems like a ruse to me.” Mary chuckled from her place.

Peter leaned into Remus before adding. “Does seem a little weird that James needs help in care of magical creatures, seeing as that’s exactly what he does once a month.”

Remus nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure. Apparently, he hadn't regained it quickly enough. 

“What’s so funny over there?” Lily asked as she narrowed her teasing-filled eyes at the two offending boys.

“Nothing at all, Evans. But trust me when I say you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to the future Mr. Evans-Potter.” He responded easily. All the mirth left Lily’s face as she turned her gaze towards her breakfast, but both Peter and Remus noticed the faint blush dusting her cheeks. 

It was surprising to all, although not surprising at all (I mean, come on, James has been at this for seven years – it was bound to come about eventually), that Lily was slowly beginning to warm up to James’ advances. It probably helped that they were head girl and boy this year, it also probably helped that James was less annoying about it and far more polite with his advances, and it also probably helped that the rest of Lily’s friends really quite liked James. 

As if summoned, James accompanied by Lily’s competition, entered the Great Hall together. 

“I’d really like that, Y/N. Thank you!” James could be heard saying as the two of you approached his friends.

“It’s really no problem, James. I’m sure they’d love to have more visitors.” You responded softly. Remus noticed your smile was just as soft as your voice; he thought it was lovely. 

What the fuck? Stop thinking people are lovely, you git. He scolded himself immediately. 

“Who’s this little birdie introducing you to, Prongsie?” Sirius asked as he shot a salacious wink your way.

You furrowed your brows at him in confusion.

“Birdie?” You asked James softly. He smiled kindly as he turned to you. “A nickname, Y/N. The way Sirius just said it could be taken as a compliment.” 

“Or an insult if you don’t appreciate such brazen flirting.” Dorcas added which earned her an elbow to the ribs from said flirt. 

“Anyway,” James interjected, looking towards you somewhat awkwardly. “Y/N here was helping me study facts about thestrals when she told me she has befriended a wild herd not far from Hogwarts. She said she’d take me to meet them.”

“Meet thestrals? Can you even see thestrals, Prongsie?” Sirius asked inquisitively. 

“There are other ways to enjoy the presence of beings without being able to see them.” You offered simply, your tone remaining nothing but kind even as you corrected him. Remus couldn’t help but smile at you.

Stop smiling, dumbass. He mentally berated himself.

“Quite right. I’d like to try feeding them and petting them.” James said with a level of finality. “If you think they’ll let me.” He added hastily as he turned to you.

You offered the git a soft smile and patted his arm placatingly. “I’m sure they will, James. In fact, I think your voice might be the perfect hertz; the thestrals will love your lower tones.”   

The majority of the group just furrowed their brows at you, but Marlene began to cackle. 

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She said as she wiped a non-existent tear from below her eyes.

James’ eyes turned stormy as he locked his gaze on Marlene, but his voice remained somewhat relaxed as he addressed you. “Thanks again, Y/N. I’ll see you in class.” 

You smiled politely at him before making your way over to your house table.

“How ironic is it that such a ditz was sorted into the house that values learning, wisdom, wit, and intellect.” She snorted, either missing James’ glare or ignoring it entirely. 

“Marlene, I love you, you’re one of my best friends, we grew up together, you’re my sister from another mister, I would die for you.” he started, making sure she was looking at him before proceeding. “Do not make fun of my friends.”

Remus was certain his eyebrows had flown right off his forehead as he exchanged a look with his friends. Sirius and Peter seemed to be in agreement that they’d never seen James so stern as he sat down beside Sirius and started filling his plate. Unbeknownst to the boys, Lily was looking at James with a small smirk a look of respect from her end of the bench. 

“So, boys,” James began, “I was thinking, for our next brilliant prank...”

And just like that, James was back to planning pranks with the Marauders as if he hadn’t just blown the entire Gryffindor table’s minds. 

The rest of the month went about the same; you and James could be found around the castle together, which Sirius was more than happy to take the piss about, and none of James’ friends made fun of you anymore - genuinely fearing James’ wrath ever since he hexed some Hufflepuffs who made a passing comment about you one day. 

Remus didn’t think you noticed any of it, however; at least it didn’t appear that way. He found that quite remarkable. He found you quite remarkable.

He hated that. 

It’s not that Remus was a prude, but he didn’t like liking you. It made him feel icky – out of control, like he didn’t have a say in any of it. Casual hookups were much more easy and comfortable for him, it was easy to roll over the next morning, say thanks, and carry on like nothing.

But just sharing a small nod of acknowledgment with you made him giddy. 

He hated that.

He certainly hadn’t agreed to liking you – he had rules. Rules like – having sex with someone was fine, having feelings for someone was not. And he didn’t want to have sex with you!

Okay, that’s not necessarily true.

He didn’t not want to have sex with you, but that’s not what drew him to you. You seemed ethereal; otherworldly; perhaps a touch too pure.

Certainly, too pure for a werewolf.

Which is why he had rules in the first place; he would not allow someone to get tangled up in his curse of a life, to suffer through loving someone as awful as him. It was painful enough being Remus, he wasn’t going to curse someone to loving him. 

So, Remus made a plan: he would ignore this friendship between you and James and pretend like you didn’t exist, only being as polite as humanly possible to stay within James’ good graces. 

That plan was fucked to shit in potions. 

The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff 7th year class was finishing up as the Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s entered for their own class. Remus inwardly sighed as he spotted you across the room heading for the ingredient supply cupboard. Remus sighed again when some of your fellow housemates chuckled watching you struggle to carry the many ingredients on your own, none of which offered to help. 

“Oh! Are you headed to the supply closet? Mind taking these too?” A snarky little witch (Remus replaced that W with a B in his mind) said as she placed another vial on top of your load without waiting for your response. 

Remus had to give you credit, however, as all you did was smile kindly as you reconfigured the many vials and jars in your arms. 

Remus sighed outwardly, and loudly, as he made his way to follow you into the supply closet.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He muttered somewhat petulantly like he hadn't just volunteered his help unprompted as he relieved you of some vials and jars.

You looked at him with a face of surprise which quickly morphed into one of gratitude. Remus loved hated it.

“Thank you, Remus. That’s very kind of you.” You all but sung to him. Your voice sounded like angels. Fuck. 

Remus scoffed. “Not quite as nice as you, cleaning up for everyone else.” He muttered somewhat darkly.

You bobbed your head back-and-forth noncommittally. “Oh, I don’t mind so much. They do plenty for me in return.”

He turned to you, genuinely interested to hear what exactly those knob heads ever did for you. “Like what?”

You smiled to yourself as you continued placing ingredients in their rightful homes. “Well, they’re always keeping me on my toes by hiding my things around the castle. They must know how much I enjoy a good treasure hunt.”

Remus’ hand stopped in midair as he watched you continue to work. Did he hear you right? Did you actually believe these people were being kind? Did you think of those people as your friends?

“Or perhaps they don’t know that. Then in that case, I suppose the joke would be on them.” You said plainly as you turned your attention back to Remus, offering him a slightly pursed smile – like you were trying to hide the full extent of your joy at the thought, though the dimple that appeared on your left cheek gave you away.

It actually surprised a bark of laughter from him as he forced his hand to resume its task. “I suppose so.” He concurred. 

Remus heard a small tinkling sound and a gentle ‘oh’ escape your lips as a vial rolled into his foot. You both bent down to pick it up, but Remus was faster. As he went to hand you the offending vial, your fingers brushed gently.

For Remus, you may as well have set off a bomb.

Remus swore he felt every neuron in his body firing at the same time, his blood cells turned to lava and his veins turned to ice, his feet felt like they were fully rooted to the dungeon floor below him while his heart thrummed and took off in flight from his body. 

And through all of this, Moony was going feral. 

“Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.”

Remus ripped his hand away from you like it burned – and in some ways it did – but the newfound space between your beings seemed to hurt even more. 

Remus’ chest was heaving, and his heart was going a mile a minute while Moony continued howling inside of his head. He could barely hear the classroom behind him through the blood rushing in his ears.

Remus could count many worst parts about this whole experience, but at this very moment, the worst part was your face.

Your head was cocked to the side like a confused cocker spaniel as your brows furrowed ever so slightly. You peered at Remus with a concerned gaze and your entire being just oozed kindness and understanding.

As if you could understand the clamoring of the 13-year-old werewolf living inside his brain screaming at him to lunge at you, bow down to you, fold you up and put you in his pocket, to crack open his ribcage and place you inside of him for eternity. What the fuck was wrong with him!?

“Are you alright, Remus?” You asked, so, so, so softly. In fact, you said it so softly that Remus was sure if Moony hadn’t just decided to dial into the exact channel of your frequency, he would have missed it completely. 

“Yes.” He breathed as he shook his head no. “No. I don’t know. I-”

You nodded sympathetically, as if Remus had said anything coherent at all. “That’s alright.”

Remus willed his lungs to take a deep breath. Because, was it really? Was it really alright? Because it sort of felt like Remus was dying; like his life was over as he knew it. 

“Ah, Miss. L/N, you should be off to your next class now, quickly. Mr. Lupin, please take your seat.” Mr. Slughorn said, poking his head briefly into the supply cupboard before retreating in much the same way.

You nodded politely at the teacher before offering Remus a smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Remus.” You said gently as you moved past him to retrieve your bag before exiting the classroom. Remus Moony wanted to follow you, begged to follow you. He could still smell you – you were everywhere. Fuck, Remus needs to shower.

Remus leaned his head against the cool stone of the dungeon walls. “What’s happening to me?” He moaned miserably to himself.

If only he knew. 

Continue to chapter two here.

Taglist: @hanniejji

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #werewolf mcswearwolf #werewolf soulmate #soulmate au #hp marauders #remus lupin ficlet #remus lupin blurb #werewolf #the lupins #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #gryffindor #slytherin #potions class #hogwarts #whimsical!reader

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael is an Asshole

Near death experience

An Angel cries

Chapter 3 < Chapter 4 > Chapter 5

Lucifer was on edge. 

What is Michael doing here? 

Why Michael of all? The one that hates him more than anything. 

Michael was standing in his home destroying the peace Charlie and you had.

The peace you enjoyed so much that he wanted to keep. 

For the sake of you two.

His inner demon wanted to rip Michael limp from limp.

Its craving to use Michael’s blood to paint the town in pure gold with his blood.

Lucifers feather rustle out of anger.

“You would never pay me a visit Michael. We both know that.” After all it was his Fault.

Michael and Gabriel gave him the Idea to begin with.

And in the end they were the one who let him fall into this personal nightmare.

In hell. 

Lucifer almost lost his life because of them.

Meanwhile confusing was written all over your face. 

Brother? 

Michael? The Arch angel? 

Your brain was working on overload. 

Slowly it started to click. You completely dismissed the thought that Lucifer is an arch Angel.

An offspring from God himself. 

The Soulmate bond let you feel Lucifers rage, and his urge to protect you and his daughter.

It pushes you to stay put and to have faith in him. 

Lucifer was still in a protecting pose to protect you.

He didn’t even realize when he was in front of you.

In a blink of an eye, he saw himself protecting you with his wings. Making them larger and covering you.

What was wrong with him?

Was it because you grew close in these last days, or was there more?

Has he caught feelings for you?

It made sense. Common logic.

His train of thoughts were Interrupted by Michaels speech.

“You’re clever as ever. But I do have to disappoint you. I’m not here for you, but rather for that seraphim behind you.” Michael’s gaze moved from Lucifer towards you. 

His pure blue eyes bored into you, you felt almost naked under his stare.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress hoping it will help with your anxiety that started to build up in your system.

You heard an animalistic growl coming from Lucifer. 

“You better get the fuck away Michael.” 

It is terrifying. Lucifer is terrifying. You should be scared, but you aren’t. 

You found this utterly attractive. 

Lucifers horns were showing in all their might and all you could do was looking at them in awe. 

Michael was still staring at you, Ignoring Lucifers threat.

It fueled Lucifers Anger even more, the lights started to flicker in the hotel. 

Sweat pearled down from Charlie’s face.

She’s never seen her father that pissed before. Not even with Alastor nor Adam.

His eyes showing nothing but crimson red. But he remained calm in front of his older Brother. 

It would’ve scared Michael if he was a mere lower-class Angel or a demon in Hell. 

But he was the Arch Angel Michael, nothing scared him except his father God and Gabriel. 

He started to smirk showing his pearl white teeth, and it settled off you.

Lucifer and Michael looked so similar, same hairstyle, same face.

There was a huge difference between these two though. Michael was cold, his aura was dark and with nothing but anger and Ignorance.

Meanwhile Lucifers Aura was warm, like a hot bath that was pure relaxation. His aura was white and pure.

Maybe it was the bond. But you see a foul soul when there's one.

But one thing they had in common, and that's their pride.

You don’t have a good feeling about this.

He wants something, but what?

What can be so special in here that an Arch Angel comes down here and confronts his brother?

What makes you so special that Michael would come down here?

Michael's predatory gaze was following your every movement making you want to run or plead for your life. 

Lucifer widened his wings shielding you from the other Arch Angel.

You sigh in relief; you don’t want to spend any second longer with Michael's stare.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like a treat he could eat for breakfast.

“You should leave.” Lucifer’s eyes never left Michael’s.

All what he did was starting to laugh at Lucifer, “Aww, Little Lucifer protecting a fallen Angel How cute.”

In the next moment Michaels wings spread and he flapped them to create a hurricane like wind blow.

Wind blew softly in your face, Lucifers wings helped that you didn’t fly away from the force. 

With a crash Nifty flew into the alcohol bar, leaving a mess with broken bottles. Husk frowned, “Oh great.”

The whole crew hid behind the staircase to take cover from the Arch Angel.

Michael whistled. “You seem to grow a liking towards that girl.” He pointed at him then at you, “what happened with Lilith? Cheating on her?” Lucifer gritted his teeth and took a step forward. 

He wants to crush Michael skull on this hellish floor. Drawing an abstract painting in pure Gold on a red canvas.

“That’s none of your business.” Michael gasps at him, holding his mouth with his hand. Acting all shocked. 

You could swear Lucifer was ready to bounce on him.

His devil tail flicked dangerously from side to side.

That’s what Michaels want. 

He wants to see Lucifer loses control and letting his guard down. 

He wants to piss his little Brother off. And Lucifer fell for it. His pride is taking over not thinking correctly.

Your feet carried you towards Lucifer, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. “Luci, don’t. That’s what he wants.” 

He didn’t look your way but stopped in his track. 

This disappointed Michael.

Deep.

Usually this works, it always worked. Why not now?

He came here to have fun with you and Lucifer, but you ruined it for him.

“You are listening now to a random bitch?” 

This was the last straw for Lucifer. No one talks to you like that.

Lucifer flew up to get more speed when he flew back down to kick Michael in the stomach. That send Michael flying towards the nearest house.

Leaving nothing but ruins from the building.

Coughing he looked where Lucifer was, nowhere to be seen.

Confused he threw stones in every direction trying to hit Lucifer. 

Lucifer laughed at this useless attempt. “That’s what you’re doing now? Throwing stones? Who's the Bitch now?”

His heart started to race out of fear.

He whipped his head frantic searching for his enemy. 

A howling laugh vibrated through hell and a crash followed it. 

Lucifer punched Michael hard into the floor letting Michael see black for a minute. 

The earth shook under the force making you slump down at the sudden ground movement. 

Michael spit out one of his Paper white teeth, it was covered in golden blood.

Michael realized that Lucifer got stronger and could easily get rid of him.

But that can’t be true, that’s not fair.

“Fuck.” He screamed as he heard Lucifers laugh from joy.

Michael panicked; he still couldn’t see Lucifer anywhere.

He was scared to death. 

Sweat covered his injured now dirty white skin. His golden head piece had a slight crack in it. 

How can I get away from here? 

Then he remembers.  

you. 

You were his compass right now and Michael can use you.

Use you to cause mental damage to Lucifer.

Lucifer stepped out of the dark, stalking slowly forward like a predator to their prey.

Michael crawled back. His hand slipped on a small rock making him fall on his back. 

Lucifer took the opportunity and charged forward. Michael dodged his attack just in time, flying towards your direction in 200km/h. 

Searching for Lucifer in the distance, you saw someone flying towards you.

Your eyes widen in excitement, thinking it is Lucifer. 

You walked slowly towards him, only to see that this is not your Lucifer. 

This Aura, so dark and it was scary.

It was Michael. 

You started to run to the opposite direction, you knew he would catch you easily if he wants to.

But you won’t give up without a fight.

Michael’s hair was all a mess, he looked like a maniac who lost control.

Blood all over his white attire and dirt all over him. 

He grabbed your wrist lifting you up in the air. 

You screamed, kicking your feet all around you. 

For the first time in decades, you seem scared of heights.

Not having wings comes with fear from heights. Not being available to fly when you fell. Getting crushed by gravity wasn’t exactly how you planned on dying. 

Your scream was quickly caught the attention from Lucifer, out of panic he teleported his way to you. 

His tail swayed dangerous from side to side as he looked at the disgusting mutt of a brother holding you up with your wrist. 

Pain and fear were written all over your demeanor and for the first time in this battle he felt scared.

Scared that he’ll do something to you.

Scared that if he interferes, you’ll die.

Michael Shaked you a bit to piss off Lucifer more. As if you were a mere piece of meat laid on display in an auction house.

Meanwhile he swung you around your sleeve of your dress slipped down revealing the apple mark on your wrist. 

As fast as you could, you tried to pull the sleeve back up, but Michael stopped you. 

Michael raised an eyebrow at you, what was your plan?

He took a glance at the thing you tried to hide, and oh did he never forget that mark. 

You share the same mark like him.

Like Lucifer. 

“Really? That’s all the fuss why you’re doing all of this?” You looked away in shame. 

Michael was to say at least very confused. You were ashamed of being Lucifers soulmate? He would be too, but you clearly enjoy his presence way too much to hate this. 

Then it clicks, “Ohhh, he doesn’t even know.” You bitt your lip, showing Michael that his speculation was Indeed right. 

Lucifer was standing there at his friendlier form, observing the scenery above him. 

He doesn’t know what? 

You knew this would happen at one point. 

You hid it very well the couple days, even though your heart was aching for that man. To tell him the truth.

But you were afraid. Will he reject you? Or does he even enjoy your presence, when he finds out the soulmate bond makes him feel that.

Michael pulled you in front of his face, you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“You’re not better than your mother. To keep a secret that huge and so small,” His hand stroked your mark, it started to burn in your wrist making you scream in terror. 

It felt like someone was burning a piece of iron into your cold skin making your blood underneath boil. 

You felt hot and lightheaded.

You wiggled your whole body, trying to get out of Michaels grasp. 

The tears that fell out of your eye collides on Lucifers face; his clawed fist clenched hard the claws shoving into his palm drawing blood. 

Michael ripped a piece off your long-sleeved dress showing your mark towards Lucifer. 

Lucifers eyes widen, no that couldn’t be. 

He searched in your eyes the answer, but you looked away, ashamed. 

And it hurts him. Why didn’t you tell him? 

He unconsciously rubbed his mark on his wrist which started to itch since Michael touched yours.

Now everything made sense for him. 

Why he felt that kind of euphoric, why he felt so in love. Why his heart ached for you every time you’re not there.

That’s why he was so attracted to you. 

And you lied to him. God knows how long. 

He is mad at you, but he won’t lose you out of his anger. 

You were his last chance, his nemesis. 

He must get rid of Michael before he can deal with you. 

Meanwhile you struggled in Michael death grip on your wrist. Your hand felt numb with no blood getting pumped in it.

“I can’t kill you Y/n. But I can cause you pain which will hurt him even more.” His eyes shifted towards Lucifer smiling from ear to ear. 

His laugh that rippled through his ribcage made you cringe.

 His hands let you fall out of his grip. Before you could relax, thinking he would let you go. He grabbed your hair making you wince. 

He pulled out a little dagger and pressed it against your neck. “Let’s see if your blood is still golden.” 

Lucifer flew as fast as he could towards you stretching his arm towards Michael and you. Michaels words echoing in Lucifers brain. Let’s see if your blood is still golden.

But it was too late.

His knife slashed a cut on your neck, golden blood started to gush out and you started to choke on your own blood. 

“No!” 

It was hard to breath, every time you tried to take the oxygen in your lungs, blood filled them which made you cough and choke every time. 

Michael let you go, disgusted that your blood spilled on his cloths. 

He removed his golden strand out of his face smiling widely at Lucifer. 

“Next time I make sure to you two will never see each other. Farewell.” With that he teleported away leaving a mess in hell behind him.

Lucifer punched into the cement where Michael was standing. 

His heart stopped when he heard you choking from your own blood. 

Ache

Rushing to your side he pressed on your wound tight. “Please, please don’t die.” 

All you could feel was pain, and the warmth of Lucifer by your side. 

And there it was again, the warmth of his powers flowing into your system. 

it was calming. Making you almost forget the pain you’re in. 

Lucifer was on the edge of crying. 

Forgetting that you didn’t tell him that you were his soulmate. 

All he could think about is that you were slowly dying.

He feels useless.

Charlie watched the scene, feeling bad for her dad.

He told her that he has a soulmate, someone who is his other half.

But since he fell, he’d never see them. 

It was sad to see his depressed expression when he thought about it.

But now he found out in the middle of the battlefield that he found her. And now he may lose someone precious. His other half. The reason he still had faith.

She looks at her father saying a mantra all over and over again. 

Please don’t die, please, please Y/n don’t leave me. Please.

He felt alone like he did when Lilith left him, but this is not the same. 

You’ll never come back. Leaving him with an empty void in his heart that cannot be filled. 

He survived the void that Lilith left in him. 

But not you, his soulmate that helped him without even knowing. 

Every night he thought of you. Not even in a sexual way. 

He held the duck he made for you tight to his body to feel comforted in some kind of way. 

And it all makes sense. But it may be too late.

Here you were, slowly dying in his hands. Passed out from your blood lost. 

His tears dropped down on your lips making you feel the salty sweet substance. 

An Angel cries.

Your neck wound started to close making him sigh in relief.

you have lost a lot of blood, and it was still life threatening but the bleeding was stopped.

You have a chance to survive this.

He stroked your cheek softly removing the dirt that was on your face. 

He pressed his forehead on yours in a comforting way.

“Please wake up.”

A/n: 👀 Soooo, how y'all doing? Thank you to all who are writing so sweet comments<3

Hope you enjoyed this chapter❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgates-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift

#y/n #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #female reader #angel #michael hazbin hotel #shapard

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. III)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷

To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷

← part II ♡ ⟳ part I

You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.

As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.

“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”

You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.

So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.

“Why do you like me, Minho?”

His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”

And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.

“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”

 

As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”

You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.

“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”

She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”

You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.

“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”

“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”

“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”

Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”

“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”

Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”

You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”

“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”

You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.

Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.

It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.

Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you

You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied. 

Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place

Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?

Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling

Me: I’m coming over

True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.

“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.

“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.

“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.

“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”

You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.

“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”

He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”

Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.

“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”

Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.

As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.

“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”

“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”

“Hyunjin, no—”

“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”

“I’m in love with Minho.”

It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense. 

“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.

You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”

You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”

You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”

“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.

Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.

“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”

You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”

And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.

“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”

Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.

“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.

“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.

You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.

“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”

“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”

Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”

As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.

The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.

Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.

You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.

The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.

Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.

It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.

You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.

And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.

You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.

All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.

You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.

After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.

You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.

Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.

It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.

Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.

“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”

And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.

“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”

Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.

“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.

“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”

You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”

“Like saying I love you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.

“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”

You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.

Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”

You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.

The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.

You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.

Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.

And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.

You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.

“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’

You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.

“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”

Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”

“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”

“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”

You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.

When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.

You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.

The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.

Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable. 

After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.

The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.

“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.

“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.

Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.

You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.

“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”

You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”

Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.

“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.

He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.

“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”

You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.

“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”

You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”

He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”

You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”

 

You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.

Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.

Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.

“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”

“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”

You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”

“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”

You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”

Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.

“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.

“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”

His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”

You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.

As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”

And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality. 

Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”

You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.

But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.

Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”

You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”

“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.

“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.

Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.

At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—

Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”

Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.

But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.

It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.

“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.

“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”

You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”

“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”

Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.

Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.

“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.

“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.

He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.

Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.

But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.

She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.

You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together. 

It felt as if you were part of the family.

And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.

This was everything you never thought love could be.

Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.

You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.

And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.

After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.

“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”

Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”

You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.

As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.

But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.

You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.

Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.

“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”

You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”

He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”

You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.

“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”

You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”

“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.

Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.

“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”

You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”

With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.

“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”

“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.

“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”

The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”

Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”

“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.

As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.

You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.

He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.

“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”

You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.

“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”

You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”

And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.

His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.

Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.

He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.

“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.

“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”

You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”

He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.

“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.

Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.

Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.

Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.

But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.

You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.

“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.

“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.

“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”

He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.

Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.

“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”

You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”

“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”

“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”

You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”

You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”

“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”

You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”

Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”

“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”

His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.

“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”

You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.

You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d’you know that?”

And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.

“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”

Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.

“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.

The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.

It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.

It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.

His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.

Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.

“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”

You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.

“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.

Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.

“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.

“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“You should see how you look,” he whispers.

His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.

He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.

With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.

You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.

You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.

Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.

Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.

He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.

His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.

“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”

He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”

You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.

Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”

Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.

He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.

Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.

You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.

He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.

“Can I—”

“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.

Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.

He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.

You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.

“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.

“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.

“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”

You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.

“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”

And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.

Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.

You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.

You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

You smile.

You love him.

It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.

Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.

Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.

You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.

When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.

“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.

It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was.

You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.

“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”

You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.

Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.

You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.

“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”

“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”

He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.

“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”

With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.

“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.

“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”

Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”

Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.

“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”

You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.

Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.

He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.

Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.

Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.

“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”

 

You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.

“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.

“Can you check it for me?”

Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.

“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.

You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.

Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.

The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.

And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.

He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot. 

“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.

“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.

Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.

“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.

“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”

Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.

“But it’s different now?”

You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”

Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.

“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.

“Maybe we should.”

At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.

“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.

His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.

You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.

If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.

Love is everywhere and in everything.

In the end, Minho had always been right.

Love is the most amazing thing in life.

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.2k / 18 / soap soulmate au, part 1

...

You're Soap's enemy. One of Graves' Shadows. You just betrayed him, and now he's seeing his name tattooed across your skin. The Las Almas night nearly eclipses the soulmark's inky color. But it's there, clear as day. He can't wrap his adrenaline-addled mind around it.

He ghosts up behind where you're posted--pacing, patrolling, on the lookout for him--and wraps his hand around your mouth. You react in surprise, grabbing his wrist. But before you can twist out of his grasp, he slides the blade of your fallen Shadow's knife against your back.

If you're his soulmate, it changes nothing. He'll still be one man against dozens, chances slim to none that he'll make it out of this alive. But he has to know.

"You," he growls. "What's your name?"

You still. You're trained to keep a cool head under far more extreme circumstances than this.

"Your name," Soap repeats, voice like gravel.

He loosens his grip just enough to let you speak.

You release a slow breath out. "Classified."

He increases the pressure of his knife against your back. "That bastard Graves trusts you, aye? Not many others posted this way. Nobody'll find you for awhile." He presses the tip of the knife back into the fabric of your uniform. He'll keep the pressure there until he gets what he wants. "Your full name."

You say nothing for a long moment. But then, you see no reason to die overlooking these twisting Las Almas alleyways. You tell him your full name.

It confirms what he already knows. It's the name printed on his own skin, the name he's repeated to himself thousands of times over. The knife disappears from your back.

"Look at me," he tells you.

You push his arm away and turn on him, drawing your sidearm and training it at his chest. You step back, looking him up and down. "You're the one we're looking for. Aren't you? Capture or kill--" Your voice falters when you see he pulls his shirtsleeve up, revealing his own soulmate. He doesn't give you one goddamn second to try to deny it or turn your eyes away the way you've been trained. Your name. Tattooed on your target's arm.

Seeing you eye to eye, Soap's breath catches in his throat. His own name on the side of your neck is clear as day to him now.

"You're her," he says, still not quite believing it.

You take another step back. What are you supposed to do? You should shoot him, yes, but could you even make your finger pull the fucking trigger now? You lower your gun, but you don't put it away.

"You should go," you tell him, voice low. "Now."

But he doesn't move. He wants to take this moment in, study your face, memorize every detail. You're the real thing. His blue eyes stay locked onto yours, and a myriad of scenarios play through his mind, just like yours. What happens if he leaves? Will he be able to find you again?

He takes a step toward you.

"Don't do that," you warn him, sliding back a step to keep the same distance between you. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You wouldn't." He moves for you now with the confidence of a man who believes that, too. He wants to touch you again. Just to make sure you're really here. His voice is rough and thick. "I need to look at you."

You bite down on a gasp when your heel knocks against the wall. He's getting too close. You can't let your control on the situation slip. You can't forget why you're here or what will happen if Graves finds out about this.

"Back off," you warn him again. You still have your sidearm in hand, but you're terrified he's right--pointing it at him is an empty threat.

"Can't."

He moves in close to you, his breath hot on your neck. You swear you can feel his body heat through the layers of both your uniforms. Your nerves are on fire. His scent is everywhere. This can't be happening. Not now. It should be a dream, meeting your soulmate, but it's a nightmare.

"Listen to me," you force out. "They'll find you and kill you. Leave. Now."

"Can't." Soap is close enough to whisper it into your ear. His hands close around your arms. "Can't think straight with you in front of me." His gaze darkens as he pushes forward, pressing you into the wall and pinning you there. If he's not going to live to see morning, he's going to kiss you. He has to taste you.

You hear another Shadow under you, boots thudding against the metal stairs, scaling up to your lookout perch.

You try to fight the panic welling up in your throat. You could both be shot for this. Killed for it. Worse.

You can't let them see him. If you give him what he wants, he'll go, right?

You grab his collar and pull him forward, meeting his lips in a searing kiss. His lips feel like stubble and taste like blood. He shudders, feeling your body suddenly pressed against his. He deepens the kiss. He's starving, but it's not enough. Just the taste and feel of you isn't enough. His fingers weave into your hair and he pulls you close, pressing even harder against your body.

You forget yourself for a moment. Your brain chemistry shifts hard, heat and want burning in your veins.

Then you hear voices from below and reality washes over you again. With a strangled groan, you push him away. "God damn you. Hide."

Soap has to force himself to let you go. It takes every ounce of control to keep from reaching for you again. But the look in your eyes when you push him away... he knows you've crossed a line.

He disappears the moment two more Shadows crest the top of the iron staircase.

You avoid rousing suspicion as you lie to your allies' faces, reporting no sightings of either target. By the time you're forced to leave your post and follow the others back to the nearest rendezvous point, you're resigned to never seeing him again. It's better not to wonder.

All you can think about are his fingers weaving into your hair, his lips on yours, the burning grip of his hands around your wrists. You tell yourself not to think about it... but then your mind goes back to it, over and over. No matter how much you tell yourself it's better not to fantasize.

Even when you learn he evaded capture, he's a wanted man. A dead man walking. You're better off pretending you never saw your name tattooed on his skin.

...

There is no other thought on Soap's mind but you long after he slips away into the Las Almas night.  The sight of you leaving with the other Shadows haunts him when he closes his eyes. He wakes up adrenalized, thinking about you in his hands, his heart pounding like it could punch through his rib cage.

His soulmate got away, and the weight of regret is setting in.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

more Soap / masterlist tag

#soulmate soap #mine #story #soulmate au #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[elexaria]

poly!ghoap x reader except we’re following canon and johnny has died. the apartment feels empty without his sunshine personality in it. simon’s bed just feels lonely, cold and desolate. after a week, he finally lets you snuggle up to him in his bed and it honestly makes him emotional because … it still isn’t the same. it’s not the same as having johnny there :(

and you miss him too, fuck you miss him like crazy. having someone to talk absolute drivel with, someone who always stands behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he buries his face in the small of your neck :( you love simon, but he’s not like johnny. he’s not as outwardly affectionate, he doesn’t do sweet talking the same. you both just miss your johnny boy.

and the raw, emotional sex that finally comes almost a month after johnny has passed… it hits different. waves of intense emotion and pleasure ebbing throughout your bodies, simon’s blurry eyes slowly shutting as he holds onto your body, almost as if he fears you’ll leave him too. in the grieving process, neither of you have had the chance to spend time with one another— simon had lost his soulmate, after all. you return the same clinginess as simon, arms wrapped tightly around the back of his neck as you sniffle, feeling overwhelmed by the warmth of his body and his vulnerability.

you two never truly heal over johnny’s traumatic passing, but you learn how to live with it. after all, johnny would be fuming you two were still wallowing around the apartment. just bone already 🙄

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap #poly!ghoap x reader #simon ghost smut #simon riley x reader

[justporo]

Bedroom Hymns

If you thought Astarion was done with you with how you look wearing nothing but his shirt, you are very much wrong. In fact, Astarion is only just starting to enjoy himself as he finally has you where he wants you - on his lap, writhing desperately.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I don't even know what to tell you anymore. This is roughly 6k of just smut and me losing my shame writing said smut. I hope you enjoy - and someone take me out back for overwriting this. Apparently it needed to be let out.

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, blood kink, nipple play, slight edging light dom/sub dynamic, light predator/prey dynamic Wordcount: 6k ~~~

You gazed upon your lover and soulmate beneath you, how he was kneeling under you, some of his curls twined around your fingers. Breath and a feeling for reality were still blissfully eluding you. If you had thought that he’d been a heavenly body descended from the skies eternal to bless you with his presence it now seemed you had switched places.

His crimson eyes were bright in the low light, almost glowing and the way he smiled at you - tips of his fangs visible and the corners of his mouth curled up so far - showed this kind of wild joy one really only felt when indulging in some of the most carnal pleasures. And there was awe in the way he looked at you, like somehow he couldn’t believe his own personal goddess had come and stretched out her hand to him, ever so benevolent.

You felt ethereal, eternal.

And thankfully Astarion was fully devoted to you, a firm believer and frequent worshipper at the temple that was your body. Ready to offer you plenty more pleasure. He’d see that prophecy fulfilled - for his own sake and yours of course. You couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

If you could have stayed forever in this perfect moment, you would have. But a few things kept dragging you back to a less sleek and paradisiacal vision.

Astarion’s fingertips still digging into your backside, the burn of his handprint there and the dizzy feeling swirling through your head were the testament that he had indulged you plentily. The visible bulge in the thin sheets that were precariously draped around your lover’s waist and its occasional throbs in the meantime were the prophecy for a night long not over.

When you dragged on some strands of the vampire’s hair he answered you with a low growl, eyes darkening. And the kisses he had been trailing along your thigh turned into letting his teeth scrape - he was a predator after all, only allowing you to play with him as long as he deigned it satisfactory. The tables could be turned onto you quickly and the thought made your whole lower body clench.

Maybe you liked this rougher, realer version better than any possible divine vision. Maybe you craved the broken perfection that allowed for your continuous fall into corruption. 

Neither of you were saints. But he’d given you so much of him already. But In turn he demanded the same devotion now. More than just a humble offering to show your dedication to him now.

Thankfully, you were more than prepared to offer him everything.

You let him caress your thighs a bit more while his fingers kept kneading your behind, but then you tugged on his hair harder than before, dragging him from his source of enjoyment which he commented with another growl.

“Stop playing with your food and fucking take me, Astarion”, you demanded, voice only slightly shaky, making your own heart race anxiously with the bold words and your core throb in desperate need.

It earned you another slap onto your ass right on the same spot where another had landed before. That and delight reflecting on Astarion’s face for you so openly stating what you desired. Meanwhile your butt stung deliciously and had you bite your lip.

“If you want me inside of you, my heart, then be a good girl and sit”, he replied in a low, almost rumbly tone, practically barking the last word, and with his hands on your behind nudged until your still wobbly legs gave in by themselves.

You saw the open challenge in his narrowed ruby eyes and you weren’t fully decided if it was more threat or promise, but you were enticed anyway as you let yourself obey to his barked command.

The muscles in Astarion’s arms flexed as he let your body slide down along his torso slowly. His hands wandered up from your butt, to your hips, gradually wandering up over the sides of your body while you were coming down on him.Your thighs spread apart on their own while you felt your own heated skin brush against the smooth and cool body of the vampire.

It just felt natural like this: letting your legs open for him, straddling him and feeling how much he craved you immediately as you sank down with a blissful, lewd sigh spilling from your lips. Astarion’s eyebrow and cock twitched in delight as he heard that.

Meanwhile your eyes didn’t stray from his for even a single moment. Nothing in the world could have ripped you from this view: Astarion’s pupils dilating while you sank onto his lap until the black almost blotted out the vibrant red of his irises.

Your limbs still felt weak from the forceful orgasm just moments ago but your body was completely and utterly helpless when it came to Astarion. You already felt lust coil in your abdomen again, when you settled down onto him, legs splayed as far as possible. Your hands had wandered from his hair to his shoulders, holding onto him with a soft trembling.

When you sat comfortably on his lap only the sheets were between his eagerly twitching erection and your obscenely wet and swollen core. His dick strained against your folds and his arms around you tensed at the sensation of finally getting to experience some friction. Immediately it made you grind your hips into him, desperate to feel more than just a taste.

The mixture of your wetness and his hardened length already starting to leak in anticipation of what he was about to unleash onto you quickly had the thin fabric between you drenched and cling to his cock as you already began losing control over your movements and the last of your humility.

Your head lolled back and your hands clenched onto his shoulders with a noiseless moan leaving your throat. The first time he’d made you come tonight had already nearly made you burst into a million pieces. You weren’t completely sure how you’d survive another one.

But gods, you were so eager to feel him.

And even more than that you wanted to please him. Wanted to give him what you had experienced just a few moments ago: pleasure so intense it made you forget anything but your own desire and the body of your lover pressed against you. You wanted to make him feel that again and again until he would have forgotten everything that had come before you. You wanted to be his path to salvation if possible.

You were positive you could do it. And you would devote your whole self -  body, heart and soul - to make up for all the pain he was made to suffer.

His shirt in the meantime had ridden up on your upper body while you had slid down against him. It was bunched between the two of you now. Your breasts pressed against him, your nipples already pleasantly peaked, but still covered by the linen.

While you kept slowly grinding against him, Astarion’s hands slid up from your hips over your back and then slid around your torso to cup your tits from below: perking them up by pushing them up and together with his palms. You hummed contentedly as you enjoyed the view of your own daunting cleavage through the loose lacing of Astarion’s old camp shirt as you looked down. Something about seeing yourself like this was adding majorly to your already heightened senses and lust.

When the vampire noticed that he wasted no time pushing further while lifting up his hips a little so you could more tension down there too. He pushed you so far, your breasts squished so hard it stung pleasantly, that it made you squeal in delight.

And you heard a very similar noise coming from Astarion, almost purring for you, as he began playing around with your boobs more. He let them jig down then squeezed them again, letting his thumbs wander to rub lazy circles over their peaks until they were even more clearly outlined, the fabric spanning over them when he tugged the shirt tightly over them.

Your hands sank down to grab onto his arms, fingertips indenting on his biceps and feeling the muscles move slowly under your splayed fingers.

A violent twitch of him between your legs - that your own body quickly responded to - and a breathy moan spilling from his lips had you snap your gaze back from your tits to Astarion’s face. It was filled with admiration as he kept toying and gazing at your boobs that felt deliciously heavy with lust.

Your senses were so heightened, your whole body so tense you were acutely aware of everything you felt: his fingers on your boobs, his cock pressing against your feverishly hot core that couldn’t wait to finally take him, how his own skin started to warm up to your own body that was almost radiating heat from the intense lust you felt.

“I love how your tits look in my shirt, darling,” Astarion whispered breathlessly, mesmerised by the very thing he spoke about. He didn’t seem like he ever wanted to stop

You laughed softly at that. The way he said it sounded almost too innocent for what you were engaging in. 

Then his eyes wandered to you, open and wide. As if he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“I love how you look in my shirt, Tav,” he mumbled softly, his face full of desire and yearning for you - and love. And somehow his honest, genuine words combined with how your name rolled off his tongue instead of one of his usual pet names, made you way more flushed and flustered than the fact that you were currently indulging in your most animalistic pleasures without restraint or shame like you’d never done before tonight.

Your own love for him was overflowing inside your chest as you watched him gaze at you with love and admiration in his red eyes. You moved to cup his face softly and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

Astarion welcomed you with open lips and a pleased sigh. You kissed him slowly and lovingly, letting your fingertips wander over his cheeks and then over his sensitive pointy ears. He sighed once more and deepened the kiss, letting go of your breasts for the time being to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer against him.

The kiss didn’t stay slow and innocent for long. Once his tongue slipped into your mouth and you were aware how your already teased boobs squished against his upper body, you bucked your hips once more with a moan, grinding against his cock again.

That seemed to remind Astarion of the unfinished business. The vampire hissed when he felt you shift against him again. There might not be much longer before the teasing would make him lose the rest of his sanity.

The mood had shifted again to something simmering and burning hot and bright. But you knew his honest love for you was burning just as hot as your desire for you.

“This shit has to fucking go”, the vampire growled as he tore away from the intense kiss. There he was again, the predator that existed under the thin veil of civility. And you loved how at times you saw it slip, experiencing Astarion letting go a bit off his own reins.

You trusted him fully that he knew exactly how far he could go.

Without further notice he wrapped one of his arms around you beneath your buttocks to lift you up. With his other arm he awkwardly tried to rid himself of the now pretty drenched sheets that were still partially covering him. His impatience made him lose some of his usual dexterity and he cursed under his breath when he couldn’t get rid of the godsdamned thing clinging wetly to his lower body.

You tried to help to kick it away with your feet and you both had to chuckle at your desperate and awkward tries to finally get it away from him in a small moment of hysteria caused by both of your emotions running high and the tension being as taught as a bow string between you.

This wasn’t one of the performances Astarion would have acted out months ago when you had started sleeping with and slowly falling for each other. This was nothing but honest, desperate need for each other and the just as desperate clambering to finally get there.

You threw each other an amused look, your face flustered from the stupid situation and Astarion shaking his head at his own uncommon clumsiness with a small grin.

Then he finally set you down again, his dick now firmly pressed between your bodies, finally free of restraints.

You moaned when you felt him hard against your naked stomach. With your one hand on Astarion’s arm again you let your other hand immediately wander to his hardness, the tip already glistening with wetness. You wrapped your hand around him as tightly as possible with your bodies so tightly pressed against each other already and gave his cock a few tentative strokes. Your thumb stroked over his soft tip and over the wet beads there, pressing down firmly and then spreading some of the slickness around, making the vampire almost whimper from how you handled this sensitive part of his body. His reaction was so visceral that even his balls tightened in response to your confident caress.

Astarion in the meantime pulled up his shirt on your body until he had bared your breasts, the cold air hitting them and their sensitive buds at their peaks making you gasp and shiver. His thumbs went to your nipples again, started teasing them, twisting them, similarly to how he had done before but now with newly found vigour. And the fact that there was full skin-on-skin contact now only amplified the rush you got from his playful caresses tenfold.

You arched your back for him, whispering his name like a psalm, zealously wanting to offer yourself up for him even more, wanting him to indulge in you. Your head rolled back in pleasure as you also rolled your hips and tried to grind against his hard cock, helping with your other hand to make it slide along your clit and your core. The tip diving into some of the wet heat, receiving a taste of what it could be like if only he finally sank into you.

You heard Astarion growl deep in his throat at the sight of you losing all shame for him, desperate to feel him and to be appreciated by him - his own personal succubus. His length kept jerking while you worked for every tiny piece of delicious friction you could get.

The vampire observed how you writhed on his lap, like you were his own personal siren. Every sweet moan that spilled from your lips another part of your irresistible siren song that beckoned him farther and farther still, wanting him to give and take everything. He watched as you flipped your hair back to ground against him even more eagerly, biting your lip, your hand not currently teasing his cock gripping his shoulder for more hold.

Astarion’s eyes glazed over from the pleasure becoming almost too much already, his lips curling up in a senseless smile of pure bliss as he was positively aching. He’d been so patient and enduring and his whole being yearned to be inside of you, to finally have you clench around him while he earned his well deserved release. But he was still urging you on, wondering if he could make you reach another peak before he did.

“Darling, hold my shirt up for me, would you?”, he pressed out breathlessly while you were still grinding yourself against him. You obeyed without even thinking about it, slowly letting go of Astarion’s hardness to do as he asked.

“Good girl,” he purred and praised you with a smirk and one eyebrow jumping up, while his hands slid over your spine: one stayed on the small of your back, the other wandered up further, over your neck until he could curl his fingers in your hair to get some good grip. And then the next time you rolled your hips up against him, he pulled your head back by your hair and with his hand on your back pulled you even closer so he had you arching your back almost painfully. Now your breasts were perfectly presented for him and were held immobile against his torso. You kept tugging his shirt up further.

“Do you want me to take your shirt off?”, you asked breathlessly and felt your whole body flush just from the way your lover held you - fully at his mercy now. Your legs were already shivering from the impossible pose: held and hovering, falling but somehow secure.

“Gods, no,” Astarion groaned with an edge of desperation in his tone and loosened the hold on your hair a little so you could look into his eyes. “I want to smell you on it after I’m done fucking you”, he explained, his voice breathy from lust, eyes half-lidded.

And then without further warning he tugged on your hair again, hard, and went down on one of your offered up breasts. He sucked on its peak, his sharp teeth grazing the delicate skin around it. You whimpered helplessly, your hand on his shoulder gripping even harder, probably leaving marks by now.

While he was sucking and now even biting, drawing just enough blood so he could taste you, he lifted you up enough until his dick could slide along your wet folds and easily slid to your entrance. Your legs were trembling as you felt the tip of him teasingly sink into you just the barest bit.

The pain of Astarion dragging on your hair and biting and sucking on your tits while you felt the head of his cock agonisingly slowly sink into you, finally, had your eyes roll into the back of your skull. A moan of yours slowly became something between a plea and a scream while ever so slowly he let you sink down onto him until he was buried to the hilt within you.

You bit your lip in a desperate attempt to keep some control over your body but after the long and slow buildup just the feeling of Astarion finally inside of you made your core clench around him forcefully.

The vampire kept suckling on your breasts and the dribble of blood he had going there, just a few drops already being enough to make his cock inside you twitch from how exquisite you tasted on his tongue. It only made you clench harder around him.

You whimpered in desperation and let go of the fabric you had still been holding up to have both of your hands claw at Astarion’s back now. In response your lover lifted his face from where he had been latched onto your sensitive skin to laugh softly and haughtily. You felt it lightly but deeply shake through his and your own body.

“I have barely done anything, my love, and you’re almost already coming for me again,” Astarion whispered and clicked his tongue - the fucking bastard.

Then he licked up a single drop of blood from your breasts. It made his cock twitch again in response to that while Astarion hummed in arrogant satisfaction. It made you think of something.

While his hands had you almost immobile you couldn’t resist spurring him on a little more. He had you captive, his prey. But you felt you could tease out the hunter, the predator a little more.

“Well, how about you do some more then, love?”, you asked with an edge of passive-aggressiveness, knowing that your tone already would get the better of him.

You both knew that he was a massive tease and that he delighted way too much in riling you up whenever and wherever possible, no matter the circumstances. Only when it was the most appropriate time to get going did he take his precious time to get to the point. So you would just try and coax him until his already dwindling patience would snap.

Already, Astarion was grumbling at you and he yanked on your hair harder again - how pleasant.

But you also had an ace up your sleeve. Using the little space you had for moving, you willingly clenched down around his cock again while you lifted your hips just a little before letting them slam down again. That earned you a disgruntled groan but you felt how he instinctively had started moving his hips with yours when you did it again. He couldn’t resist you anymore - not with how desperately he was craving you.

And now for your trump card. You moved your head just a little, bringing his attention to your neck that was already conveniently bared and ready for him, just like the rest of your body. And then there was your thundering pulse that had been making you feel dizzy for a while now but sped up even more as you anticipated what was about to happen.

You heard him grunt, obviously immediately understanding what you offered him. He wouldn’t let the opportunity pass, of course he wouldn’t. Not if the pretty morsel was presenting itself so beautifully and enchantingly on a silver platter.

With your hair still in his grip he leaned closer. He deeply inhaled your intoxicating scent that was intensified by the blood pumping through you amplified by your desire. His other hand moved to your butt now and began to squeeze, giving you more room to move and helping you lift up your hips a little with every roll of your body as you began riding him slowly.

Just a moment later you felt his lips on your throat, kissing it open-mouthed, caressing it with his tongue pressing flatly against it, directly over where your pulse was fluttering even faster now, knowing what was about to happen. Merely an instance later you felt the sharp sting of his fangs breaking your skin and then the cold, but titillating sensation of Astarion taking your blood. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, holding it steady for him while the whole sensation brought newly known waves of lust over your body.

You heard his pleased and feral groans as he drank your blood in generous gulps while he gripped your ass harder and you slowly sped up the pace of you grinding onto him.

And then you felt another pleasant sensation while you slowly lost your breath and mind moving on your lover: you could feel his dick inside you physically grow harder as he drank from you and jerk viciously in rhythm with every gulp he took. Your blood giving the vampire a surprising amount of vigour while it also made him noticeably more feral.

The sounds that spilled from your lips became lewder by the second as you felt all of it once: him hitting deep and hard inside of you, his hands gripping you, your breasts jigging with every slam of your hips and the dizzying cold slowly and pleasantly spreading from your neck through your body while your fingers dug into the vampire’s shoulders until you almost felt like you were drifting out of your own body from the pleasure.

With a jerk and some obvious internal struggle Astarion ripped himself away from your neck, his fingers at its back digging into your skin. He slowly released their grip on you, joining his other hand on your butt, so you could take a look at his face. His gaze on you was intense, a few curls had fallen onto his forehead.

All while he kept fucking you relentlessly: now with both hands on your behind it was him dictating the pace, lifting your hips up again while slamming into you with rolling of his own hips.

His eyes were impossibly wide, pupils dilated as much as possible. Some of your blood was dripping down his chin but he didn’t even care, he had only eyes for you and how you almost had lost all your senses already, being taken by him like this and with newly found energy and vitality from your delicious, nurturing blood. And he realised your ploy.

“And here I thought you were only offering out of the goodness of your heart, you little vixen,” Astarion mumbled while he watched your eyes roll back again as he picked up the pace. You were in no state to even answer anymore, the only things leaving your lips were heavy breaths and senseless moans.

But Astarion wasn’t having it. He slowed down until he was thrusting frustratingly slowly.

“Tell me what you want, love,” the vampire demanded, slowly lifting your hips up until he had almost fully withdrawn from you. You only whimpered in desperation in response. Astarion stilled fully, holding you there, in suspense, his gaze boring into you.

“Darling, speak to me,” he said, his voice teasing as he smirked at you. How he was even capable of doing that while he could have just been buried deep down inside of you was fully beyond you. You only groaned in frustration at him, clawed at his back as if mad, needing him to just keep going.

He snorted, still letting you hover right above his cock now -  and didn’t move an inch: “Don’t make this harder on you than it has to be, sweetheart.”

That made you break. “As if that was even a possibility, Astarion,” you chuckled breathlessly, feeling hysteria bubbling up inside you

The vampire just answered with a chuckle and then let you pounce down on his dick again, immediately having you claw at him and moan again from the sensation of being filled completely by him within an inch of your life from one moment to the next.

“So she does speak after all,” he teased you with a low laugh vibrating through both of your bodies. Thankfully he kept up a steady rhythm now.

“Now, - tell me - what you - want!”, the vampire pressed out between each thrust. Obviously he massively overestimated your ability to form even simple sentences when he fucked you like that.

“Harder,” you simply uttered breathlessly. Astarion hummed in approval while a grin split his lips, baring his fangs to you once more.

“So it obviously is a possibility,” he replied smugly. You groaned angrily and bucked your hips while clenching around him, making him moan in return. As much as you loved to hear him talk, you would have liked for him to pour that energy into how he was thrusting into you.

But you quickly regretted your insolent behaviour when he suddenly grabbed you and threw you onto the mattress, shortly being withdrawn from you. You gasped and caught yourself with your elbows, but the bedding was soft enough anyway.

Astarion prowled closer to you, his gaze that of a predator closing in on his prey once more. Then as he moved your legs up with his hands he eyed your throbbing core that was desperate to welcome him again. He positioned his hips and his glistening hard length between your legs.

You thought he was just about to make your wish happen with how he pressed up your thighs to spread you for him. But as you looked at his face you found him gazing at you, his messy white curls falling into his face, crimson eyes glinting in awe at the sight of you while his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your legs.

“Look at you, my darling,” he whispered as if to himself. But when he continued his eyes locked with yours: “Look how beautiful you are.” He emphasised his words by squeezing your thighs with his splayed fingers.

He practically moaned the words as he pushed your thighs a little further and finally began to sink into you again.

His mouth was agape as he leaned forward over you, making your legs bend towards your head as far as your exquisite body allowed. His eyes were glazing over with lust and a sound you could only describe as a purr rumbled through his chest as he slowly buried himself into you again until he had bottomed out.

“Look how well you take me, love. My good, good girl.”

You gasped at his praise, eyes wide as he spelled out exactly his thoughts for you. He leaned further over you and grabbed your wrists to pin them down beside each side of your head. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips then, your ankles crossed, trying to hold him deep inside you.

It earned you a loving smile, an approving hum. But then Astarion withdrew from you slowly again.

“You’re so good for me,” he mumbled and then slammed into you so hard again it made you yelp. “And so ready.”

“My beautiful darling”, Astarion continued, eyes fixed on you while he thrust again, making your breath almost catch in your throat as you kept staring at him with eyes wide, mouth open as he kept telling you just how much he adored you.

His eyes were soft as he slammed into you unyieldingly, nothing but praise leaving his full lips while he sped up the pace and you felt it wouldn’t take long anymore. Not with how he had kept teasing you, how he had made you work for every inch gained.

You lost all ability to do anything but let your body arch towards his more and clenching around him in eager desperation while he kept going: both with the praise and the thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, Tav, my darling.”

“Can you take me a little harder still?”

“Yes, my good little pup.”

“Look how eager you are, you little fox.”

“You’re a goddess, my love. My goddess.”

You felt yourself lose yourself, your legs already starting to tremble with how tense they were as you felt the orgasm creep up onto you. Meanwhile Astarion’s eyes didn’t leave yours for a second while he hovered above you. Every detail of his perfect face imprinted permanently into your memory: the soft laugh lines and around his eyes and crinkles around his crimson eyes, the perfect aristocratic nose, the soft, full lips he occasionally bit down on as he too kept losing himself in you, showing his pronounced canines. You could have gone forever with tiny details you would never forget in this lifetime - or the next.

All while he kept fucking you unrelentingly and unapologetically.

And neither would you forget how it felt, how with every deep hit within you you partially lost yourself and how you let yourself be taken willingly.

Then he let go of one of your wrists to let a hand wander between your bodies, the pad of his thumb easily finding your clit despite how closely your bodies were pressed together already. And it gave you the opportunity to lift one of your hands to his face and cup it - while he kept going. His head fell a little lower and some of his soft, white curls were tickling your face lightly.

The way he fucked you so hard while he looked at you with those loving eyes was such a stark contrast but it just felt right like that. It made for the perfect mixture. It assured you that now matter how deep and long you’d fall, he’d make sure you find your way back again. And that you’d do the same for him.

Then, when he sloppily started to swipe over the tender bud between your legs, you knew this was about to become your end.

Just for a few moments his gaze strayed from yours, looking at how you were still in his shirt, a sign of how you belonged to him. How you were his and his alone. He’d never forget this image: you coming undone beneath him while his old, dusty shirt was bunched up over your bared breasts, being drenched with the sheen of sweat that by now covered your whole body.

There was nothing on his mind but you and how you made him feel. Becoming almost too much, it was almost as if he could feel his undead heart start beating again.

And he didn’t stop, locking eyes with you again. His words became more incoherent slowly and you noticed from how his pace became a little unsteady that he was about to lose himself completely as well. The muscles in your legs and lower body were tensed so much that it started to hurt but just added to the tension building up inside you. You were ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

“I love you, Tav,” were his lasts words of praise as he slammed into you a final time and you felt his cock twitch violently inside of you announcing his savage orgasm.

“I love you,” you moaned back as - in time with him - you felt how you lost the last of yourself as well. A long wailing moan, exclaiming his name once more towards the heavens left your lips as you felt yourself dissipate into the aether.

He kept fucking you through waves of pleasure making both of you shake while he spilled himself inside of you, his head falling to the crook of your neck where he moaned your name again and again - a continued credo of his devotion to you and only you.

And when nothing of it was left but shaking, trembling bodies and heavy, gasping breathing Astarion slowly lifted his head from your neck and withdrew from you. With a groan he rolled off you and he sighed deeply. One of his hands reassuringly remaining on your body at all times.

None of you were able to formulate a complete sentence again but with still softly shaking hands he pulled down his shirt over your trembling body and then pulled you to his naked chest.

You were thankful for the opportunity to snuggle up against him, legs already tangling with his. Pleasant exhaustion and deep, unyielding love was all you felt as you were lying in his arms. And Astarion felt very much the same as he began to slowly stroke your back.

A whole eternity later it felt like, he spoke again: “I guess you should wear my clothes more often, my love. What comes of it has proven beneficial for the both of us, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You simply hummed in approval, still way too worn out from how “beneficial” this all had been for you.

“You’re forgetting to use your words again, darling. You should try it sometime, it gets you far in life,” Astarion replied sassily when you offered nothing more in response.

You growled in annoyance and grabbed a nearby pillow. When Astarion was about to keep teasing you, you whacked him straight in the face with the plush thing, causing him to hiss and curse at you.

“I love you, Astarion. And now shut up, you noisy vampire!” you scolded him and tiredly let the pillow drop off the side of the mattress.

Astarion huffed at you.

But then he pulled you in closer to him, pressing his cheek to the top of your head as he closed his eyes.

“I love you too, my little rascal.”

The smile on your lips stayed there when you slowly drifted off to your dreams - and even until you woke up again.

~

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

“Maybe there are clues in the words you have.” Robin cuts in, reaching for the notepad and sliding it in front of her.

Steve huffs, “I need to know the whole thing; there’s definitely words missing.”

“Should you eat more bread?” Robin asks, already sliding the previously abandoned plate of bread towards him.

“You shouldn’t overwhelm yourself.” Mama says, pushing the plate back. “We don’t know if there’s a trigger to the spell, or if you and the caster’s paths will just cross one day, maybe they don’t even know they cast it.”

Steve blinks at her. “So I have a true love and they might not even want me?”

“No!” Robin belts out immediately.

“No, of course not,” Mama says, continuing on. “The one known thing about any spell like this is that they only work on those who are receptive to it.”

“So some weirdo can’t put you under their spell?”

“Yes, exactly Robin; Steve, whatever this is, whoever this was, they love you with all that they are. And you them.”

“I don’t even know who it is! How can I?”

Mama doesn’t have an answer besides saying “Your soul must know them already.”; Their conversation was over soon after that.

Steve spends the next couple days silent and brooding. He can’t stop thinking about how he’s what, marked to love someone he doesn’t even know? How’s that fair?

It could be any random person on the street that thought he was hot, some weird old guy or a lovesick middle schooler..He only just turned 25 the day before the bread incident, but he’s saddled with this huge unknown that isn’t going to get better any time soon?

Okay, apparently not just some weirdo according to Mama, but still. Un-fucking fair all the same.

He’s also pissed that he can’t give anyone all the baked goods he’s made within that time. Each and every one of them ending up with a sour aftertaste. 

“Damn witch bullshit…” he grumbles to himself, only half serious, as he scrapes another batch of sour sugar cookies into the trash.

He’s salty, okay? Pun intended. If he hadn’t ever learned the truth about the powers over food his grandmother (and now him too, apparently) has, he could’ve just excused the batch after batch being off on bad butter, or old flour.. Something other than his mood being what’s ruining his cookies.

That’s what he’d done every other time something he’s made tasted off, now he knows it was him the whole time.

Mama comes in then, he doesn’t have to look up to know the look she’s giving him.

Steve leaves the bowl of leftover dough on the counter, mumbles out a “I gotta go.”, then tromps out the back door and into the woods behind his grandparents’ home. 

He supposes it’s good that they live just outside the city, really, having the trees to escape under like this has helped him before, and he’s hoping will help him now.

Meandering through the underbrush, he strolls along until he reaches the small clearing he’d claimed for himself when he was what, 8? 9? Doesn’t matter. It’s his spot to get away from anything he needs to.

He sits down against the big oak at the edge of the clearing and tips his head back toward the sun filtering down on him through a gap in the canopy above him. He breathes in the fresh air, focuses on the warmth hitting his face, and just exists there for a while, slipping in and out of a soft snooze.

Suddenly, he’s shocked out of his dozing by the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

If it were coming from behind him, he’d expect it’d be Robin coming to find him here, but it’s not. It’s coming from ahead of him across the clearing.

Steve stands and presses back into the trunk of the tree, wondering if there’s bears in these woods when a person stumbles through the tree line.

The man is thin, about Steve’s age if he were to guess, and covered in dirt, his light wash overalls and his boots are caked in it. His hair is long, pulled half-back away from his face and full of bracken from the forest.

He also seems to be in a daze, staring with dark eyes at Steve with an unfathomable expression. 

It shifts soon after, though, warming into a watery smile. “I’ve come home to you.” he says, clear as day, then collapses onto the grass.

“Oh, shit!” Steve rushes forward, kneeling down beside the man and quickly checking him over for injuries. 

Steve presses his fingers to the man's pulse confirm it's still there (it is) and there don’t seem to be any bruises or breaks in his limbs, so he goes to his head, feeling quickly under the tangles in his hair for any blood, any knots.

Nothing. There’s nothing apparently outwardly wrong with him.

“Hey, hey, wake up! You gotta stay with me, man.” he says, shaking him lightly. 

The other man’s head lolls to the side and his eyes open a crack, his lips quirking up into a smile. “M’love…”

“What is your name?” Steve insists in a slow, clear voice.

Instead of answering, the man raises his hand slowly to cup Steve’s cheek. “...v’wait’d so long..” he slurs, then goes limp again, his hand dropping to his chest.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve gets his feet under him and gathers the man up into his arms in a bridal carry. His steps falter when he feels how light the man is in his arms, how much more thin he is than how he’d looked.

Steve adjusts his hold on him, making sure not to let his head hang backward over his forearm, and rushes back toward the house.

“Mama!” he shouts as soon as he clears the treeline into the yard.

She’s at the back sliding door as soon as he is. “Steve, honey, what—”

He pushes past her, hurrying to the spare room on the first floor with her on his heels. “I found him wandering the woods, I couldn’t just–I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Mama.”

She gestures him forward to the bed, “Put him there, on top the covers,”

He does, setting him down as if he’s made of glass.

As soon as the man is out of his arms, Mama takes his place. “Nothing seems broken, but he’s so light, he needs food, he needs water, should I call 911? I don’t even know his na—” he rambles on, not even realizing he’d started to pace until his grandma stops him in his tracks.

“Steve, listen to me.” she says, pulling at his wrists gently, removing his hands from his hair. “He will be fine. Now, go get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and come straight back here.”

He nods dazedly, stumbling backward out the doorway and spinning to the kitchen.

Steve slides to a stop on the tile floor in front of the kitchen sink at the same time Robin gets home from her classes that day.

“I have a date!”

Wait, he needs the bowl first. He scrambles to the opposite counter for the large mixing bowl Mama uses for her damn bread and fishes it out with a clatter of everything that that had been in front of it on the shelf tumbling out to the floor.

“Steve?”

Should he put soap in it?

“Steve!”

No, Mama just said ‘warm water’, not ‘warm soapy water’. He nods to himself and turns on the tap, reaching under the sink next for a washcloth.

“Steven Otis Harrington.”

“Oh, hey Robin, you’re home.” The bowl’s almost full.

“Steve.” She spins him to face her, holding tightly to his shoulders.

He tries to twist back around futilely, “The bowl–”

“Steve. What. Is. Happening.”

He blinks at her a couple times. “Robin!” He pulls her to him in a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re not gonna believe–”

“Steve, the bowl?”

“Shit,” It’s nearly full when he shuts off the tap, so he dumps a bit out and picks it up with both hands, “C’mon, he’s this way.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“Dunno, I found him in the woods.”

“Aw, Steve, you can’t just take in any ol’ stray dog you happen to find out in the wood—-” Robin cuts herself off as they get to the bedroom door. “Ohhkay…so..not a dog.”

“He looks to be dehydrated, but I don’t think he has any injuries.” Mama says in lieu of a greeting when they return. Steve sits down on the opposite edge of the bed that she is, and carefully passes over the bowl of water without looking at her.

The stranger immediately takes in his attention. His soft features, dark brows…Steve starts to pull the bits of brush out of the man’s hair, untangling twigs, leaves, and he can already see one of those pesky prickle things twisted into the hair next to his ear.

Mama sets the bowl on the sidetable, and gets to work immediately, wiping the dirt and grime from the man’s face and arms. “Robin dear, can you grab one of those sports drinks Pa loves so much outta the fridge? And a bottle of water.”

“Of course!” she says, darting back into the kitchen.

“We’ll need to get some food in him too,”

“We should make him scones.” Steve states apropos of nothing. “With chocolate chunks.”

“Maybe after he’s a bit better, sweetie.” Mama scoffs, wringing out the washcloth. “He needs healthy fats first, butter, oatmeal, avocado, things like that.”

“I can do that!” Steve says, jumping up excitedly. His former task forgotten, he rushes out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, nearly bowling Robin over in the process.

He gets to work on simple eggs and toast for their houseguest, avoiding Mama’s lucky bread in favor of his own store-bought stuff for now, he can make him his own later. 

As he scrambles the eggs, he focuses everything in him on the stranger, on getting him better, making him healthy again. He’s not exactly quite sure how to do what Mama does, but the sour cookie dough says he’ll do it without thinking about it…kinda.

Whatever. 

All he knows is that he’s telling the fuck outta these eggs to make his love better. Make him whole again.. Make him—

Wait..

Did he just refer to the random man laid up in the other room as his love?

Is…

The fugue state he’d been in since first laying eyes on the man crackles away just long enough for him to think.

What did he say before he collapsed? "I've come home to you."?

That..sounds right....why is that so famili—

Steve's eyes leave the pan of eggs in front of him and snap immediately to the scrap of paper he'd scrambled for a few nights ago.

Is he…?

And of course, as if the words weren't already plastered permanently onto his grey matter, there they are, plain as day.

tagging those that were interested on the last part!!! @mugloversonly @kittydeadbones @maybequizas @queenie-ofthe-void @newtstabber @angeldreamsoffanfic @eyesofshinigami @sunflower-trashbaby @perseus-notjackson @kaspurrcat @quinns-shadowy-arts

also, idk if this counts for it, but one of february's songs for @steddiesongfics is work song! which is what this fic is based on! 😊😊

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #robin buckley #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve has good grandparents #steveddie #eddeve #witch au #noelle writes