#FUCKING TELL HIM AURORA

[monsieuroverlord]

Aaaand I'm in tears again.

Wolverine #44 Previews are Up

source here

written by Ben Percy and Victor LaValle, art by Cory Smith, cover by Leinil Francis Yu

[mer-se]

We love a gay cowboy with the prettiest smile 🐎🖤

[cure-typhoon]

Karkat waking up at some unknown hours in the morning only for him to see this because his daughters are telling him theyre hungry

[aurorasandsad-prose]

The audacity of a man to call me out to verify my posts because they are not 'true'.

His source : Twitter (X)

My sources : Journalists on the ground, experts, un orgs

[hemmingsleclerc]

Scandal!┃CL16-MV1

I just want to say I love w all my heart charlotte so I'm not trying to hate on her, she looks very friendly but I just used her for her pics with charles

Also I had this idea on kylie and timmy's ''relationship rules rumours'' she put on him, poor timmy😭😭

instagram

f1_gossip

Liked by 183,573 others

f1_gossip According to reports, there is drama in the paddock! It all started when rumors came out of testimonies close to the couple where Aurora (Charles' new girlfriend) has imposed ''rules'' in her relationship with the driver!

"First, Aurora wanted him to cut ties with all of his exes, especially with the female driver, with whom he is still very close", Let's remember that Leclerc and Y/LN dated for almost 3 and a half years but they separated and they remained on friendly terms, before this they had been friends since childhood and the model ''did not like that'', they tell us.

comments

username girl what the fuck??

username stop, pls you're literally a ''model'' bc your mommy knew people and got u a job, on the other hand, Y/N has trained her entire life for that sport and she is super talented and has achieved all that by herself, stop embarrassing yourself.

username IF SHE MAKES SURE WE NO LONGER HAVE MOMENTS BETWEEN CHARLES AND Y/N, SHE WON'T LIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT FRRRR

ynln

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 1,845,295 others

ynln Made some great memories in Miami, had dinner w friends, and podium celebration this weekend, see u on Imola <3

lewishamilton fun night!

username I miss charles' comments on her posts 😭

maxverstappen1 🤘!!!

landonorris why wasn't I invited?

ynln bc I hate u

landonorris lol wth? I literally apologized 5 times for laughing at your pic,pls :(

redbullracing 👏👏

charles_leclerc

Liked by scuderiaferrari, aurora.official, and 1,642,795 others

charles_leclerc A little bit of blue and leo 😘👑Miami, thank you

aurora.official SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!!!😍😍

username girl okey we got it, now stop.pls

username PLS- THE WAY HE CROPPED HER FROM THE PHOTOS 🤣🤣🤣

scuderiaferrari blue suits you 🩵

username you look so good on blue cha 😭💗

cha_yn

Liked by 843,537 others

cha_yn I miss my parents, pls they were so in love 😭😭💔

username the way charlie looked at her

username my man was so deeply in love....

username she used to shine more when she was with him :(

twitter

comments

username Ok max having a crush on yn wasn't on my bingo card this year

username ok but what a great and hot couple they would both be

username I SEE IT 👀

rebullracing

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen1, and 739,539 others

redbullracing P1 and P2!!! What an amazing race for our team, very proud of max and yn!

ynln ❤️‍🩹

maxverstappen yes baby!

username did anyone saw charles' face when yn and max celebrated together??? no?? okey

f1_gossip

Liked by 429,683 others

f1_gossip Apparently after the great victory of both Redbulls, both went out to celebrate at a bar and sources claim that both were "very comfortable around each other", what do we think of this?

username nooo, I was still hoping charles and yn came back :(

username I'm here for their reputation era

username Idk if I want to be yn or max

aurora.official

Liked by charles_leclerc, herbestfriend and 284,626 others

aurora.official My baby got P3!! I'm so proud of him❤️❤️

username girl,do you at least know something about the sport?

aurora.official duh

username :/

maxverstappen1 has posted a story!

caption: yn send me this pic earlier today and thought I needed to show u, do we look alike?

charles_leclerc has posted a story!

music: I bet you think about me-Taylor Swift

twitter

f1_gossip

Liked by 947,594 others

f1_gossip What the hell happened between these two?? In the first practice of the weekend both drivers fought! According to some fans who came today, Charles approached Max furiously while he was yelling at him and Max wasn't far behind! What could have happened between these two?

username STOP WHAT IF IT'S FOR YN!!?!??!?!

username WHAT IS HAPPENING

username what the fuck 😭😭😭

Part2

[skzdust]

Ruin Me, Big Boy ;)

This is smut. MINORS DNI.

This fic was a request from @piratejoongie ! Thank you for the ask it very much inspired me ;)

Summary: You hook up with Mingi off Tinder one night.

Pairing: Mingi x reader

Includes: "good girl", "cocksucker", cock sucking, unprotected vaginal sex (USE CONDOMS PLEASE), tinder hookup but I've never done a tinder hookup so idk how they work irl but this is how I imagine it, PLEASEEEEE be safe with Tinder hookups though guys, Horny gay Wooyoung, Bestie Felix and Changbin, very background Chanlix

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @weirdowithaphone @caught-in-the-afterglow @palindrome969 @skzstan12345 @katsukis1wife @hyunjinsjeans @somethingkindazainy @silverstarburst

Network: @mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!

Masterlist

-----

“No.” You swiped left. “No.” Again. “No.” Again.

“God, when does this game get good?” Felix took a swig from his beer, leaning over the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah, I like playing tinder as much as the next guy, but come onnnnn, these men are lame as hell.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

“Literally get interesting.” Changbin closed his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 

As if on cue, Mingi (25) popped up on the TV your phone was cast to, all dark hair and sharp jawline… and that smirk!

Your own jaw dropped. “Guys, I think I just fell in love.”

“I think I just got hard!” Wooyoung yelled. “Jesus Christ, look at that man!” 

“He’s mine!” You yelled back. “My tinder, my man! Claimed!” 

“Fuck!” Wooyoung collapsed back against the couch as you swiped right. 

The room erupted in screeches as hearts filled the screen, indicating you’d matched. 

“Message him, message him!” The voice was so high with excitement it wasn’t immediately recognizable as that of any of your friends, but you hit the ‘message’ button and stared at the text bubble for a second. 

“What do I even say to someone that fucking hot?”

“Here. Gimme.” Wooyoung wiggled his fingers, and you handed over your phone. Your eyes widened as you watched him type on the screen. “There.” 

You: Ruin me, big boy ;)

“God.” You laughed. “You’re gonna scare him off.”

“No, I’m not, we workshopped your profile forever. You look hot as hell. You’re gonna be thanking me.” You watched as he swiped into Mingi’s profile. “See, he’s looking for short-term fun.”

“Short-term fun.” Felix hummed. “I know that means hookups, but I kinda hope he sticks around. Just because he’s nice to look at.”

“He hasn’t even—” You started, but Wooyoung cut you off with a squeal. 

“He responded!” 

“Give me my phone!” You snatched it from his hand.

Mingi: I can do that, baby ;)

Your stomach leapt.

“Get his location right fucking now.” Wooyoung ordered. 

You began typing something out.

You: Time and place and I’ll be there

Changbin giggled. “Y/n’s getting some!” 

“Hell yeah, y/n’s getting some!” You took a sip of your cocktail as you went back to his pictures. “How do people even look like this? He’s so hot.”

Mingi: An hour and a half work? Here’s the address.

You looked up the address as soon as he sent it. It was a nice apartment building downtown. Felix’s boyfriend Chan actually lived there. 

“I’ll tell Chan you’ll be over there in an hour and a half.” Felix had a twinkle in his eye as he whipped out his phone. “If Mingi’s a dick, or a creep, you can go to his place.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

You: I’ll see you in an hour and a half <3

You went upstairs to get ready, showering quickly and changing into a matching underwear set and a cute but casual outfit. 

Wooyoung clapped as you walked down the stairs. “Beautiful, y/n. Tell me how he is. And if he’s into men. And if he might possibly be into me.”

“He’s hooking up with her, Woo. Not you.” Changbin said bluntly.

“Maybe he’s bi!” 

Felix ignored them, smiling at you. “Have fun and be safe, y/n, make sure your location’s on.”

You checked your phone to make sure you were sharing your location with Felix. “All set! Bye!” 

You made your way downtown, parking and walking the rest of the way. You texted him when you got to the lobby and leaned against a pillar.

You almost weren’t expecting Mingi to be real, but he walked out of the elevator with the gait and confidence of a supermodel. He was dressed in all black, he was tall, and in person that smirk had the cockiness of someone who could back it up, no matter what was required to do that.

Your pussy throbbed as he looked at you, his smirk growing. 

“Y/n…” He crossed the lobby, eyes looking you up and down. “You look even better than your pictures.”

“You’re pretty fucking hot yourself.” You managed to get out.

He laughed softly. “Oh, am I? A pretty girl like you telling me that is gonna inflate my ego.”

“Lucky for you, I like a man with a god complex.”

“God complex, huh? I think that can be arranged.” 

“Oh, can it?” You raised your eyebrows. 

“You’re gonna be worshipping me.” He winked. 

“I’d love to worship you.” You whispered back.

“Then come upstairs.”

—

As soon as you made it into his apartment, Mingi pushed you against the wall, trapping you in with one hand and kissing you hard. His lips were demanding, and his tongue licked into your mouth. You moaned, your head already growing dizzy from the kiss. 

“Good girl.” He hummed. 

“Mingi…” You whined.

He pulled away. “What do you want to do tonight?” 

You thought for a second. “I wanna suck your cock.”

He leaned in by your ear. “Can I call you a good little cocksucker?”

It felt like he’d lit you on fire. “Yes, please call me your good little cocksucker.”

“Then on your knees.”

You sank to the floor, unzipping his pants.

He pushed them and his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, already red and hard and big.

You reached around it, pumping the shaft a few times. “Fuck.” You whispered. You could barely wait to get it inside you.

“What, I thought you wanted to worship me.” He smirked. 

In response to that, you opened your jaw and pushed yourself down on his cock.

He groaned, his hand finding your hair and balling into a fist. “Fuck, such a good cocksucker. So good for me.”

You focused on the feeling of him in your mouth, the heat of his skin. He was easily the biggest guy you’d been with, but you didn’t let that intimidate you, pushing yourself further and further down on his cock. 

His grip on your hair tightened, and he gently began to rock his hips back and forth, gently fucking your face. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sucking my cock like you were made for it.”

You moaned around him, fighting to keep your jaw relaxed. 

His hips picked up the pace, quickly but gently fucking into your mouth. “Good girl, good girl, good— ngh!” He pulled out of your mouth to cum on your face, groaning as he stroked himself. As cum painted your features, you thought you’d never seen someone so hot. 

“You want me to fuck you now? Properly, not your mouth.” He panted.

“Yes.” You moaned. “Yes, Mingi, please.”

“Okay, my good girl. Lets’ go to my bedroom.”

You got up, following him into the bedroom. It was tidy, with grey sheets on the bed and an attached bathroom.

“Clothes off, and on the bed.” Mingi ordered. You hurried to obey, spreading yourself out on the bed for him.

“Fuck.” He said as he took off his own pants, his eyes raking over your form.

“Fuck me.” You whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, my good girl, I will.” He left his shirt on as he crawled over you on the bed. “I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life, if you’ll let me.”

“Please, Mingi, please fuck me within an inch of my life.”

“Fuck, begging?” He kissed you, hard. “You’re so fucking hot, y/n.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and began to push inside. You moaned as his tip stretched you.

“Perfect little— ngh, fuck.” Mingi pushed in further, his voice growing strained. 

You couldn’t say anything your mouth forming a little ‘o’ as you burned in pleasure. 

He seated himself fully inside you, and you stayed like that for a moment, with Mingi deep inside you, connected. 

And then he started moving, and you thought you might cum on the spot. He was big, but he felt even bigger inside you, especially as he started fucking you in earnest, pushing in and out with a fervor.

You moaned, clutching at the sheets. “Fuck, fuck, Mingi, ah, God…”

“Feel so good, my good girl, so tight around me, such a good little hole for me.” He grunted. “We gotta do this again, because God I love fucking you.” He caressed your cheek. “Takin’ my cock so well.”

“Yeah, anytime you want.” You breathed, meaning it.

“Anytime I want, huh?” He pushed into you in a hard thrust. “I’m gonna take you up on that, my good girl.”

“Please do.” You whined. “Your good girl.”

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.” He whispered. “Ruin me, big boy, that’s what you said, right? I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I was complaining about how the cool thing I thought was a weird comet last night was actually “starlink” or whatever and how disappointing it is that the first thing I’ve seen in awhile that might have been a comet was actually Elon musk’s pet project and how he has cut off access to people in the past just for criticism and my dad replied with this

I’m deceased. First thing I opened this morning and I’m loosing my mind

[ellecdc]

hiya elle!!!

could i request a first-time dad sirius fic of siri introducing his baby to the other marauders?? 🩷🩷

so. stinkin'. cute.

dad!Sirius Black x mom!reader who are introducing their first child to the Marauders

You felt as though you were experiencing the world through glasses that weren’t your exact prescription, riding out the last of the adrenaline coursing through your veins after the past 24 hours. You were floating in this liminal space between discomfort and euphoria, pain and joy, worry and love.

You thought perhaps though the love was beginning to win out.

You were sitting in your hospital bed as you watched Sirius gently bounce the tiny bundle he was holding up to his face.

“Isn’t her nose just perfect, sweets?” He asked you (for quite possibly the 13th time in the four hours your daughter has been earth side) without moving his gaze from said nose.

“So perfect.” You agreed readily, smiling softly at the picture and hoping that this image in your memory didn’t fade as you became more lucid. 

There was a gentle knock before a mop of wild hair and a pair of spectacles shoved its head in through the door to your room.

James gasped quietly yet no less dramatically as he looked between you and Sirius.

“Can we come in?” He whispered, adorning quite possibly one of the biggest smiles you’d even seen on him (which was really saying something, considering he has been notoriously sunny since the day you met him), before Lily shoved her head in just below his. 

“I promise we’ll behave.” She added.

Sirius chuckled and nodded his head in invitation. “You were never the one we were worried about, Red.”

In a way that only happened throughout the history of humanity at the precise moment family members or loved ones entered the room of a newborn and their parents; Lily, James, and Peter all tiptoed in, for some reason even hunching low as if their lack of height would somehow make them any quieter.

James gasped again as he and Lily peered over Sirius’ shoulder to get a glimpse of the newborn in his hands; all three friends sharing identical beaming grins. “She’s beautiful, Sirius.” Lily whispered in awe.

“Bloody perfect, is what she is.” James agreed, leaning around Sirius to look at you. “Way to go, mum. Brilliant job you’ve done.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You replied, turning a little shy as Sirius turned his lovesick gaze to you, which was very embarrassing considering he literally just watched you push his fucking child out of your crotch. 

“What’s her name?” Peter asked, standing in front of Sirius like an eager kid waiting for their turn to pick a toy from the treasure box.

“This is Aurora Jubilee.” Sirius said proudly, turning his daughter slightly so that Pete could get a look.

“Bloody perfect.” James reiterated when you heard a quiet commotion outside your hospital room.

“I said I was sorry, Reg. The baby can’t tell time yet, she won’t know you’re late!”

You then heard something that sounded an awful lot like someone being whacked with a bouquet of flowers.

“Idiot.” Regulus hissed. “I’m trying to make a good impression; just because you don’t worry whether or not Harry finds his uncle to be untimely doesn’t mean I want to set the same precedent for my niece. Tu as tellement de chance tu es une bonne baise.”

The door pushed open slightly further as Remus and Regulus quietly stepped in, furious blushes adorning their faces when they realised that you all had paused in order to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“How nice of you to finally join us, little brother. Your niece has been asking for you.” Sirius deadpanned. 

Regulus scoffed and Remus grimaced as Regulus came rushing over to your side and pressed a kiss to your hair. “How are you doing, mama?” He asked, pulling back to consider your form as Remus pressed his own kiss to your head. 

“I’m good, uncle Reggie, thank you.” You smiled at him.

“Good.” He said with a curt nod. “I worry, leaving you in the care of my brother - you deserve better.”

“Sod off.” Sirius muttered, causing Lily to gently swat at his back.

“Watch your mouth, Sirius. There are little ears now.”

“Yeah, watch your fucking mouth, Sirius.” Remus volleyed.

“Christ, our kids are doomed.” Lily complained as she moved to sit on the end of your bed.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore; let me hold her.” James demanded, making grabby hands to Sirius.

“Okay but Prongs, I swear to god if you fumble this like you fum-”

“I didn’t fumble that pass! You threw it too hard!” James quickly negated with a petulant whine.

Moving in slow motion, Sirius relinquished his hold on his new favourite person into James’ capable and seasoned dad hands before moving to perch himself beside you on your bed. 

“‘Lo, Aurora. I’m uncle Prongs; your favourite. I’m going to buy you so many stuffies, your dad and mum will need to buy a second place  just to have somewhere to put them all. And Haz is going to be the best big cousin you could ever ask for; he’s already trying to convince me to buy you a bike so you guys can ride together. And-”

“Okay.” Lily interrupted. “My turn.” 

James harrumphed but acquiesced and passed her over to his wife.

“She has her mummy’s nose.” Lily cooed, causing Sirius to gently pull you into his side and pressing his nose into your hair.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He said, causing you to snort.

“No. You just kept saying it was perfect.” You argued.

“Exactly.”

“Let’s just hope you have your mummy’s smarts, too.” Lily concluded, passing Aurora to Pete.

“Oi!” 

“Hi, ‘Ro.” Peter said, smiling down at the infant as she started to stir slightly. “No, no. Please don’t wake up. Oh god, oh god, James take her - take her! I’m not ready for this!”

“Oh hand her ‘ere.” Remus mumbled, moving to take the tiny bundle from his mate. “Wormy smells, doesn’t he, little love?” He cooed at the baby who, much to Peter’s chagrin, stopped fussing immediately. 

“Oh you and I are going to get into so much trouble, darlin’. I’m going to teach you so many swear words, and I’ll help you prank your dad any time you want - you just give me a ring and I’ll be there.”

Any contention between Remus and Regulus from their arrival melted quickly as Regulus leaned into Remus’ side to gaze at the newest Black family member. 

“You wanna hold her, love?” Remus asked him quietly, causing Regulus to shake his head quickly. 

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sirius scoffed. “Please, we let Peter hold her.”

“Sod off!”

“What if I drop her?” Regulus continued.

“Just don’t drop her. God, you’re a weird bloke.” Sirius muttered under his breath, though Regulus seemed to catch it as he levelled his brother with a glare. 

His face softened considerably as Remus shifted his hold in order to transfer Aurora into Regulus’ careful arms.

He spent a few moments just looking down at his new niece, a silent conversation seeming to pass between them as Remus reached around him to stroke the downy soft skin on the side of her face.

“Okay, I’ve only known Aurora for three minutes; but if anything ever happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” He said simply. 

Peter let out a nervous laugh before he realised Regulus was quite serious. 

“Good.” Sirius said with a nod. “That’s why we picked you to be her godfather.”

Regulus’ head whipped up at that as he seemed to strengthen his hold on the baby in his arms.

“You what?”

“If anything ever happened to us, we know you’d do everything in your power to give her a good life - the best life.” You explained.

“I- but…really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius said emphatically. “Besides, you inherited all of mother and father’s dirty money anyway, might as well use it to spoil our girl.”

Though there were clearly tears forming in Regulus’ eyes, he turned his attention back to his goddaughter with a derisive scoff. 

“I was planning on doing that anyway, Sirius. Je suis vraiment désolé de te dire ça, Aurora, mais ton père est un idiot.”

Remus snorted. “Already teaching her important life lessons.”

“Get bent, Moony.” Sirius sneered.

[spynorth]

There's a sharp pain in his side, each breath a struggle as if his lungs have suddenly grown far too tight and as he lays on the ground, back propped against a trunk and leaves stained with his blood, Lucas feels a flush of color assault his features. He had meant to lead the hunters away from their ragtag band of merry misfits, had flashed a quick grin in his worried brother's direction and darted off before either he or Aurora could protest in an effort to gain the attention of men who were usually more brawn than brains.

These had been different though...

"you've lost a lot of blood." @northliights

Her voice cuts through that cold fog that seems so intent on enveloping him and his heart beats erratically in its hollow confines as if unsure whether to be grateful he won't die alone or angry that she's so willingly put herself in danger. He settles for grateful. "I know...kept hoping I had some emergency protocol that would kick in and create more, but ... guess that wasn't in the budget." Blue eyes flicker to her face for only the barest of moments before returning to study the ground, brows furrowing in a scowl at the crimson stains that now cover her own hands. "Did... are you safe?" Fingers grab at her own, squeezing as if their hold is his only lifeline and he gives a shake of his head, trying to clear the mist from his eyes. "Tell Guy .. they don't ... they don't usually aim as well as this. Probably thought I was him.. that I'd heal. But if they're desperate enough to risk actual bullets, he needs to know."

His leg shifts where it's stretched out before him, blue denim made even darker by the blood thats seeping into fabric and Lucas presses his free hand all the tighter against his side as gaze finds Aurora's own. She is his dream, his dawn, the thing that has taught him he is a man who deserves life just as much as the next ...The weight of his tongue is thick in his mouth, heavy like it no longer remembers how to form the words he wants to say and there's a dark shadow creeping along the edges of his vision... but he presses forward, fingers squeezing hers all the tighter. They could find me here, find you... you have to leave. The command is there, hovering in the air between them, but it's a far different things that escapes his mouth as he leans the slightest bit sideways and rests his head against her shoulder.

"Stay. Please." Don't leave me.

[missmeinyourbones]

AURORA BOREALIS GREEN

cw: non sorcerer au, college au, enemies to lovers (?) neighbors to lovers, miscommunication trope if you squint (I AM SORRY), reader e to as she/her once, reader wears heels, some light sexual content (dry humping nation rise)

wc: 10k+

There's something wrong with your upstairs neighbors. 

You've never met them, not face to face at least, but between the times you've hit your ceiling with the end of your broom and the audacity they have to continue to be as rowdy as they are, something isn't right with them. You're sure of it. 

And you're not naive to the fact that your apartment building is filled with young people, either currently in college or just freshly graduated. You're no prude to the dulled sound of late-night party playlists or squeaky bed frames muffled by plaster. 

But your neighbors aren't guilty of these typical noise complaints. No, they're borderline much worse.

The majority of their crimes take place in the day, believe it or not, which makes it all the more frustrating when you actually have shit to do. When it's not boyish yells of victory and frustration, it's footsteps that sound like a herd of elephants (how many people can live in an apartment floor plan for two?). They're relentless upstairs neighbors to have, and though you couldn't pick their faces out of a crowd if you tried, you're sure their lack of etiquette spans across other areas of their lives. 

The tiny clock at the top of your computer blinks a mocking 11:38 AM as you try to study through the sounds of excited stomping and rowdy gibberish. 

You don't know what makes today so different, whether it's the burnt coffee beans you can taste lingering in your usual order from the cafe across the street or the organic chemistry study guide practically laughing at you as you review your hieroglyphic notes for tomorrow's test.

Whatever is in the water has you feeling braver than usual, and instead of reaching for the conveniently placed broom in the corner of your kitchen, you find yourself stomping your way down the hall and up the staircase.

The sixth floor is identical to the fifth — you don't know why it wouldn't be, but you've never put much thought into it — so it's no surprise that your feet find no trouble in naturally bringing you to a door equivalent to yours just a floor below. 

Your knuckles wrap against the wood with three unfriendly knocks, and the joyous buzzing from inside the apartment instantly comes to a lull. You think you hear panicked whispers from the other side, almost as if the culprits are debating on answering or not. You take their choice away when you knock three more times. 

After a moment, you hear the clicking of the lock and the fiddling of the doorknob. You take a deep breath to ground yourself, put on your best customer service voice, and prepare to calmly tell these entitled frat boys to shut the fuck up when—

You're ironically met with the prettiest green eyes you think you've ever seen.

A tall brunette stands before you, about your age, and wearing a look that's both confused and embarrassed. Your eyes quickly flicker across his face in the span of mere seconds, logical thoughts going out the window and now replaced with amazement at how stupidly attractive he is. 

Though you knocked on his door, he speaks first.

"Hi...?" He clears his throat, looking behind you in the hallway, almost as if you have the wrong room. 

His confusion annoys you, and you suddenly remember why you're here in the first place. 

"Look, I really don't wanna be a bitch," you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "but what could you possibly be doing in this apartment that sounds like an actual full-out brawl on a Wednesday morning?"

Obliviously handsome neighbor's face goes a bit pink and his jaw slacks as he stutters, looking for either a shitty excuse or a polite explanation of the truth.

He opens the door a bit more, gesturing to the living room behind him. You spare a glance to where another guilty suspect stares back at you with big brown eyes and a smirk. There's some video game paused on the screen, ridden with animated blood and a scoped weapon's perspective.

Your attention is brought back to the one holding the door when he mumbles, "I think it's our game."

A bit dumbfounded at his lame answer, you blankly stare at him.

"Your... game?"

Brown Eyes yells from the couch, "Call of Duty!"

As if on instinct, Green Eyes closes the door a bit, shielding you from his roommate and shaking his head in exasperation. He clears his throat awkwardly, "Sorry, are you—?"

You're suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you've been staring at how long his fucking eyelashes are. He's anything but sore on the eyes, but again, you try to remind yourself that he and his roommate make your life difficult at least five out of seven days of the week.

"I live below you," you huff behind a swallow, "and you really don't make it easy." 

He nods dumbly, finally realizing the connection behind your visit. "Oh, right."

You scoff and nod your head. For someone as pretty as him, he's a bit thick in the head. 

Biting your cheek, you begin to walk away from the door without completely ending the conversation. As you're turning to leave, he hears you call out from down the corridor. 

"If you could just — not play video games like eleven-year-old boys," your tone is filled with annoyance, "that'd be great." 

You don't need to turn around to know that the stranger at the door is apologetic and nodding in compliance. Before he can fully shut the door, you hear a quip from his counterpart on the couch.

"She told you, bro."

As the door shuts, you hear the muffled hiss from the other. "You're the one making noise, dipshi—"

…..

Your threatening conversation must have worked to some degree, because it's been almost two days without any sort of annoyance from your upstairs neighbors. You think you almost take it for granted, the way you can study without headphones and enjoy a movie in the living room rather than in your bed with the speaker on high.

The walk back from your class is usually about twenty minutes, but it's closer to fifteen today as you're quicker when it comes to getting out of the cold.

Your chemistry test went alright — maybe not your best work but okay enough that you passed. And that's all you care about as you make your way back to your apartment, intending to crash in your bed and not move for the next few hours.

The winter air leaves a chill up your spine as you swipe into your building and press the elevator button. Your nose runs a bit from the cold as it sits against your knit scarf. Bag on your arm and half-consumed coffee, you can't wait to enjoy a day or two without thinking about covalent bonds and isomers.

You close your eyes and release a sigh as the elevator door begins to close, but before it gets the chance to do so successfully, quick footsteps and a hand jammed between the closing space prompt the doors to reopen.

Not really paying attention to the stranger joining your 30-second elevator ride, you simply step to the side to make more room for them.

It's not until they make eye contact with you that you realize it's your neighbor, the same one you'd borderline terrorized a few days ago for being irritating.

He's out of breath from catching the lift last minute, lungs still adjusting from the crisp air from outside. His jacket is zipped all the way up to his collar and his hair pokes out in spiky tuffs from beneath his hat.

He mumbles out a weak "sorry" before his eyes find the floor and the rickety door shuts, leaving the two of you alone in the suddenly very small space.

You'd cuss beneath your breath if you weren't close enough for him to hear it.

What's the acceptable thing to do in this scenario? You mentally weigh out your options. Sit in an awkward silence? Introduce yourself as if your encounter never even happened? Address the fact that you banged on his door a few days ago and insulted him as a first impression?

You choose the silence. If anything, you silently pray that behind your winter apparel and the lack of eye contact, he doesn't even recognize you.

But that thought goes to shit when you see that he's already pressed the fifth-floor button for you.

You swear the ride to your floor has never been this slow. Seconds feel like hours as you watch the digital number rise like paint drying on a wall. The elevator almost laughs at you as it stops on the third floor and opens itself to find no one there; you curse whoever decided to press the button before changing their mind and taking the stairs.

After what seems like forever, your floor finally flashes on the pixelated screen, and as you feel the elevator come to a stop—

The doors don't open.

You think it's just your dramatic prolonged sense of time until it's been about ten seconds and still, nothing. Just the two of you in a stopped elevator with doors that won't unlock.

You've never been one to believe in karma, but you can't help but think this is the universe punishing you for standing up for yourself. You are quite literally on your floor, a mere sliding door away from the embarrassing situation you got yourself in, but still, nothing happens.

He presses the button meant to prompt open the doors a few times with slight force.

"It does this, sometimes," he weakly coughs out in an attempt to make conversation. "It's uh—a shitty building."

You try pressing the button for yourself, "It's never done this for me."

Green Eyes sighs, slouching against his side of the wall and letting his head fall to rest on his shoulder, "Consider yourself lucky."

You huff, giving up on the button and turning to face him.

Your eyes didn't deceive you the first time you saw him — he is just as pretty as you'd initially thought. Not a great conversationalist, but nice to look at. He avoids eye contact until you speak up.

"It's happened to you before?" you gesture to the doors that won't open.

He catches your eye before nodding defeatedly, "This is the fourth time."

You can't help but bitterly laugh at the situation you're in.

"Maybe it's just you, then," you joke, looking up at the digital five mocking you in the corner.

Though you don't catch it, his eyes soften a bit as they fall on you. The corner of his mouth slightly quirks up when he chimes, "Could be."

You let yourself count another ten seconds before tossing your hands by your sides in aggravation and sighing, "So, what now? Hit the help button or—"

And like a blessing, or maybe a curse, you can't decide, the elevator chimes, signaling its arrival. The doors open swiftly as if there was nothing wrong with them in the first place, revealing your destination floor to you.

You whip your head to your upstairs neighbor, confused and almost asking for his permission to exit the elevator. You don't know why you do so, and you don't know why you only depart after he nods his head and waves his hand for you to continue.

Next time you leave your apartment, you find yourself taking the stairs to be safe.

…..

Your peaceful living is unsurprisingly short-lived. After a few enjoyable days, you'd given your neighbors too much credit as they now return to their usual noisiness. You find yourself rapping on their door once again.

This time, Brown Eyes answers.

Even before opening his mouth, he's instantly friendlier than his counterpart based on body language alone, completely opening the door all the way wide and leaning against the frame in his palm.

He's taller than you, but not as tall as the former who greeted you last time. With light rose-colored hair, he's all smiles and giggles. You'd think he were high if you could smell anything on him.

Oh, he's also shirtless.

"Hey, it's our friend again," he smiles at you before craning his neck backward, and you can make an educated guess on who exactly he's talking to.

You're quick to steer clear, "We aren't friends."

He laughs at your words, completely unfazed by the unwelcoming attitude. He casually sips on an energy drink that looks borderline lethal when he asks, "Were we being loud? You comin' to yell at us again?"

His lack of care for the situation surprisingly doesn't rub you the wrong way. Inconvenient? Yes, but not necessarily malicious, from what you can tell.

"I wouldn't be here for any other reason."

"Sorry," he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "We don't really have inside voices around here."

You can't help but roll your eyes at the childish excuse. "You should find some."

"Will do," he nods like a child being reprimanded in class, "sorry again."

He salutes you with a metal can in his left hand. Before you can turn your back to him and towards the elevator, you hear the same voice call out to you.

"Hey—!"

You stop midstride, slowly turning around to face the door again. He stands in the same position, leaning against the door frame as he points out the obvious.

"We didn't get your name last time."

You blink at him a few times, not caring enough to connect the dots and extend the nicety, but the friendly one persists. He places a palm on his (bare) chest as he gestures to himself, "I'm Itadori."

You nod with raised brows, "And I'm calling our landlord if you piss me off again."

You hear a soft chuckle from the inside of the apartment. The two of you turn at the sound of the noise, where Green Eyes hides his smile behind the strings of his sweatshirt and quickly returns his attention to his phone.

Itadori, apparently, looks back at you and nods to his friend, "That's Fushiguro."

You breathe out your own name and quickly make your way back towards your apartment. On the ride down to your floor, you find yourself repeating the name — Fushiguro. It tastes weird on your lips, and you hate the way you don't hate it.

..…

His name is Megumi. 

You learn this when a letter shows up at your door addressed to a Fushiguro Megumi. Mail mix-ups are common in the apartment complex, but you can't help but laugh at the coincidence - his name but your apartment number clearly displayed in black ink.

You examine the piece of paper closely. The cream-colored envelope covered in poorly drawn hearts and tacky puppy stickers placed randomly across its front found itself wedged into your door's mailbox. Flipping it over, the return address is a mere surname of Gojo underlined with a smiley face. 

A love letter, you realize. You're not sure why the shift in narrative suddenly fills your stomach with an uneasy weight of disappointment.

You're going out anyways, you tell yourself as you slip on your scarf and shimmy into your shoes. Between stopping at the grocery store for a few small things and dropping off overdue assignments at your professor's office, it's not like you're going out of your way to return the letter to its intended recipient. You're doing the right thing, being a good samaritan, your mind repeats. 

The single flight up the stairs is easy enough and a good excuse for exercise. Approaching the door that mimics your own floor below, the same one you've already visited two times too many, you feel weirdly nervous. Just slide it beneath his door and call it a day.  

As you bend to slip the paper beneath the door, it swings open. 

You quickly stand up straight and back away from the opening, as the shadow in your peripheral startles from your presence and does the same. 

"Shit, sorry—"

Looking up, you lock eyes with the one and only whose letter lies in your hand. Fuck. 

He hesitates a bit when he realizes it's you, doing a double take and immediately assuming he's in trouble again. 

"We—" Megumi, you now know him to be, turns his back to you, quickly surveying his empty apartment to show you, "aren't playing? Yuuji's not even home, so—”

You're not sure why you're the slightest bit hurt by his more than reasonable accusation. The only two times you've been at his door were to reprimand him, so of course he's not wrong to assume this time was no different. Still, it has you feeling guilty as you dryly swallow and raise your arm.   

"I was sticking this under your door," you sigh, handing him the ridiculous-looking envelope. "Got sent to my place accidentally."

His eyes flicker to your extended hand, and when he sees the writing on the envelope between your fingers, his body instantly goes hot with embarrassment.

"Of course it did," he groans beneath his breath, almost annoyed. 

A bit abruptly, he grabs the letter from you and places his hand behind his back, telling himself that if it's out of sight, you'll forget it ever happened entirely.

His uneasiness and slight frustration have you taking a small step back as he snatches the envelope. He senses your hesitation and immediately mourns how he acted out of instinct, sighing and slowly moving the letter from behind him to rest by his side.

He softens and clears his scratchy throat, something you've come to notice he does a lot. "Thanks."

Feeling a bit brave, you raise your eyebrows, amused at his odd behavior. Your words are taunting yet friendly when you nod to the note at his arm.

"You should probably tell your girlfriend that you're in #603, not #503."

Megumi's face is often stoic and downturned, aside from a slight pull of a smile that can rarely be seen on occasion. But at these words, you watch in regret as Megumi's expression mimics one of disgust mixed with pure mortification. 

"Oh, this—" his eyes fall to the envelope he thinks might be the cause of his death, "this isn't from a girlfriend. It's actually a lot worse than that." 

"Worse?" you push.

"It's... from a family friend," he weakly reveals. "Kinda like a dad, I guess." 

You find yourself smiling at the meek yet sweet confession, nodding along and biting back a good-hearted laugh at his timidness. 

"Right, I just assumed with the hearts and the cute stickers that—" you trail off, gesturing to the letter that clearly presents itself as something else. 

He laughs a bit humorlessly and itches the back of his neck shyly.

"That would make a lot more sense and be a lot less humiliating, yeah."

You take a moment to take in his shyness. He's harmless, you decide at that very moment. You make a mental note to remind yourself to weigh the sides of the subject at hand. 

Cons: awkward, obvlvious, bad neighbor, a tad unfriendly at times

Pros: annoyingly attractive, nice enough in actual conversation, respectful in passing, girlfriend-less 

You shake those points from your head, taking a breath and slowly moving towards the elevator. "It could've been worse. The stickers could've been puppies and kittens," you tease. 

You expect that to be all, because that's all it should be, right? An awkward yet friendly coincidence between two strangers who got off on the wrong foot. You're locked in on entering the elevator when you hear his voice from behind you. 

"Sorry—" he shortly blurts out. 

You turn, expecting him to elaborate on the outburst. The look on his face almost reads as if he wasn't planning to until seeing your reaction, where he explains, "That we're loud sometimes. I really do try to tell Yuuji to shut up, but he's just... a lot."

You don't know why your heart swells at the apology. 

"It's fine," you nod softly. Turning your back, you call out to him as you enter the elevator. "You've actually been pretty tolerable this week, but don't let that go to your head."

As the elevator closes, you see Megumi smile before returning inside and closing his door. This time, you don't stop the thoughts that flow through your head.

Pro: cute

.….

You suppose it was only a matter of time before the tables you'd set managed to turn on you, but you just didn't expect it so soon. Because the next time you run into your neighbors, it's them knocking on your door for a change.

The sharp winter wind shakes the sides of your building with rage — the kind that results in creaky panels and systems outages in certain sectors of your building.

After waking to take a shower early this morning and being greeted with piercing cold water that refused to warm up, no matter how long you ran the faucet, you knew today would be a long one.

Clad in layers of fuzzy socks and bulky hoodies, you rise from the couch to answer the banging outside. After opening the door to see who's on the other side, it takes less than a second for the visitor to make himself at home.

"You out of hot water, too?" Yuuji casually brushes past you, walking into your home and stopping in the center of the living room. He looks around the space in awe — as if his own place just a singular level above doesn't mimic the exact same floor plan.

Still in the hallway but keeping an eye on his friend's questionable behavior, Megumi waits in the hallway. He's on the phone with someone, his cell wedged between his elbow and ear. When he begins asking about the building's backup generator, you mentally thank him for being the only proactive one here.

You sigh and turn to Yuuji, who's admiring your wall art and the fact that you have an actual television stand, "I'm out of heat in general."

"Damn," he blurts out without a thought, "that sucks."

You overhear Megumi wrapping up his conversation in the background when your lips are pulled downward in confusion.

"Are you guys not?"

"Oh no, we are," Yuuji continues admiring your apartment with a child-like curiosity, "but we have a space heater that's doing the job for now. How are you so good at decorating?"

You ignore his question, turning to Megumi who now stands on the threshold of your doorway. He makes a face, one of tight lips and sympathy, almost as if he's wordlessly apologizing for both the unfortunate scenario and his roommate's lack of social etiquette.

You further wrap yourself in your own little warmth, crossing your arms inwards. "That's actually really smart of you guys," you manage to croak out.

"You can come up and chill if you want," Yuuji mindlessly offers, eyes scanning over the magnets on your fridge. He can't stop himself from fiddling with a cherry-shaped one that holds up a baby picture of you from kindergarten.

The shock on your face must be obvious because you swear you hear Megumi swallow a chuckle at your reaction.

"You came down here… to ask me to chill?" Your voice octaves up towards the end, almost as if repeating the offer will reveal itself to be a track or joke.

While Yuuji nods eagerly, you can hear Megumi muttering from behind the neckline of his sweatshirt.

"Sue us for extending a neighborly olive branch."

As Yuuji continues to outwardly snoop around your kitchen, his eyes land on your oven-top clock and he whines.

"I actually have class in twenty and need to catch the shuttle to campus, but you're welcome to not freeze to death with Fushiguro, if you want."

You check your phone, confirming the time when you question, "Didn't the last shuttle of the hour leave already?"

You watch the gears turn in Itadori's mind for a second before he smacks a palm to his head, quickly brushing past you and out the door.

"Fuck me, see you guys later then—" he hurries, the only sound following him being the swishing of his winter coat and clunky booted footsteps jostling down the stairs.

And with Megumi still standing in your doorway and the sound of the main staircase gate slamming behind Yuuji's path, you could hear a pin drop between the two of you if it weren't for the howling wind outside (which you find yourself suddenly grateful for rather than loathing it).

Megumi shifts his weight on the balls of his feet as he stands. He clears his throat in a way he hopes is subtle.

"You can still come up," he gestures to the hallway with a nod of his head, before cautiously adding, "if you want."

Instinctively, you feel your body curl further in on itself. Megumi must notice it too, as his eyes quickly flicker to your raw hands tucked beneath your arms.

"It's not that bad in here," you weakly dismiss.

He deadpans, "I can almost see your breath."

A sigh leaves your chilled body and you look up at Megumi. Now it's your turn to silently communicate with him — eyebrows raising and wavering between your options, you chew on your cheek in thought.

"You don't have to," he softly adds, hands burrowing themselves in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just wanted to see if you needed anything, I guess."

"What did the landlord say?" your words are muffled from your teeth in your cheek.

Megumi's eyes light up a bit before they find his scuffed Converse again.

"He's sending his guys over, but it's gonna take an hour, at least."

After another minute that feels like twenty, you softly speak up.

"…Do you really have a space heater?"

As he fights off a smile, Megumi gently nods.

.….

You'll admit, the apartment looks better than you'd imagined. Not that your standards weren't too high to begin with, but you're pleasantly surprised.

Megumi unlocks the front door, gesturing for you to enter as he slowly closes it behind him, shivering a bit from the draft weaving through the hallway.

It's clean, relatively. The design of the rooms and open areas are identical to your layout below, but between the decor (or lack thereof) and the overhanging presence of the space, it feels so different.

Their television, the one you know to be responsible for their rowdiness, balances on what looks to be a bedside table. Far too small for the proportions of the TV but just enough to carry the width of the screen's base, it looks silly but does the job.

"You can just…" Megumi waves his hand to the living room, awkwardly trailing off as he insists. "Sit. Wherever you want."

Your seating choices include a felt futon in scrappy condition, two lopsided beanbags, and a busted recliner. You take your chances with the futon.

Surveying the apartment, it's not terrible — truthfully, you'd been expecting worse from college guys. You give them props; aside from a few half-drank plastic water bottles and withering plants on their window sill, there's nothing that outwardly goes against any health violations or suitable living standards. No empty beer cans or pizza boxes, no trashy flags or posters hung on the walls. It's decent.

And the space heater working overtime in the corner outlet is a major plus. Feeling the angle of its warmth blasting on your legs, you exhale at the heat and rub your fuzzy slippers together on instinct.

"Do you want anything?" Megumi stands a few feet away, nervous for someone in the comfort of his own home, "Water or a drink, or something?"

It's sweet how respectful he's being — you think back to whoever sent him that letter, imagining they raised him right.

You shake your head curtly, "I don't take drinks from strange men."

His face drops instantly.

"Oh—right," he swallows harshly, fumbling with his sparse words. "I didn't mean it like that or anything, but that makes sense. I just meant—”

The stoic expression you were attempting to upkeep fails and you can't fight off the smile that pulls at your cheeks. Exhaling a laugh and looking over at him, you apologize, "I'm just kidding, Megumi."

He feels his stomach instantly solidify like cement at your words — Megumi. He doesn't recall you ever referring to him by any name, let alone his first. He feels a wandering heat itching up his neck when he coughs up a chuckle.

He shakes his head, sitting on the opposite end of the futon and leaving the middle cushion between the two of you unoccupied.

"Fuck off," he scratches his jaw to busy his shaky hands. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of a few silver rings wrapping around his knuckles.

As the warmth of the space heater (solely the space heater, you remind yourself) gradually dissolves the chill that's been stuck up your spine for the last few hours, you slightly settle further into your seat.

"So this is the scene of the crime, huh?" you motion to the gaming console propped up on the floor beside the makeshift television stand.

Megumi amuses an exhale through his nose and nods along, "Yeah. I mean, you've kinda seen it from the hallway before."

"Yeah, but this is the real thing, first-person point of view. It's just missing me downstairs hitting the ceiling with my broom twenty times."

The next few minutes are stolen by a whole lot of small talk that holds no weight. Beginning to panic at how the hell you're gonna make it through this entire hour with little to talk about, your eyes fall on the television once more.

"So," you curl into the futon. "Show me something worth screaming over."

Without warning, Megumi chokes on his own saliva as he swallows.

"Huh?"

"A game," you quickly correct, not realizing how your words sounded and nodding to the television before you. "I meant, show me a game that justifies how loud you two get."

The game is fine, nothing revolutionary but admit that you could see how it could be entertaining for some. A standard battle royal concept, Megumi hands you his second controller and walks you through the instructions on how to play.

You mimic the way his fingers hold the controller, how they flex and bend to hit certain buttons for special uses. Throughout the tutorial of trial and error, the two of you naturally close the gap of the middle cushion, now much closer as you copy his movements and use his hands for reference. He even goes as far as reaching over to point out certain buttons to you, skimming your fingers hesitantly as he pulls away.

It's safe to say you don't win, don't even come close, but he's a good sport all the same. He laughs when you're hit by enemies and revives you with little to no mocking. He whispers an encouraging "there you go" whenever you manage to land a hit on someone, followed by an "I got you" when he's covering for your character. It's fun — you freeze a bit when you realize that you like spending time with him, even doing the very thing that caused this entire debacle in the first place.

You don't realize how much time has passed until Megumi's phone vibrates from the coffee table. His eyes quickly glance over the unsaved number, almost as if recognizes the contact and is debating on answering or not.

Your eyes narrow teasingly when you taunt, "You gonna take that?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, Megumi nods, swipes his screen, and holds his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

The conversation is short, maybe thirty seconds in total. Though you can't make out any specific words, you can hear the rumbling of another deep voice on the other end of the call. Megumi listens half-heartedly, nodding along and chiming in here and there to acknowledge the caller.

"Hey, yeah. That was me. Right, okay. Okay, nice. Thanks, appreciate it."

The call ends and Megumi puts his phone down on the coffee table once more. You swear you can hear a small sense of disappointment in his voice when he breathes.

"That was the maintenance guy," he breathes softly. "Heat's back on."

You feel your own body getting sour with misfortune. Why are you so bitter about the thought of going back downstairs to your own apartment?

Nodding at his words, you slowly stand and do your best to sound relieved. "Thank god," you joke, "I was beginning to think I might have to sleep on this gross futon."

Megumi sneers, rolling his eyes and rising to walk you to the door. Before you step into the hallway, you turn to face him.

"Thanks," your tone is spineless, one he's unable to recognize from you before you elaborate, "for letting me leech off of your heat."

"No problem," he shoots you a genuine look. "Consider it reparations for all of the times we've annoyed you."

"All of the times?" you shoot him a harmless glare.

Unlike most who cower and scowl at your sarcastic quips, Megumi seems to bloom beneath your daggered attempts at pushing him away.

"Fine," he exaggerates a groan, "maybe not all. But it's a start, right?"

A start. The insinuation tickles all air out of your lungs like a feather. Though you pretend to be annoyed and kiss your teeth at his words, you nod all the same.

Leaving his door, Megumi seems lighter than he did when you first entered.

"Sorry you just kinda watched me play video games for almost two hours," he calls out to you as you depart, hands returning to his pockets.

"Don't be," you honestly tell him as your head cranes back to look at him. "It was nice to be up here for reasons other than wanting to strangle you."

.….

A day and a half later when the universe has realigned itself and it's you knocking on their door again, they half expect you to be followed by your stuffy landlord holding an eviction notice.

Much to their surprise, you're alone, rather skittish — and holding a tupperware container of… cookies?

It's Megumi who opens the door initially, but Yuuji is quick to squeeze his way into the opening at the sight of your familiar face and mysterious delivery in hand.

"Ooooooh, what are these?" he inquires, unashamed as he pokes his nose into your space in an attempt to get a better look at the baked goods.

Pulling a bit away from his antics, you swallow back any potential wisecracks.

"Thank you for being neighborly and not letting me die of hypothermia cookies," you keep your voice neutral.

"Are they poisoned?" Megumi pipes in.

You shoot him a scowl, one he's learned is innocent enough, and his eyes crinkle in amusement.

"Shit, can't remember if I added vanilla or vitriol?" your head cocks to the side in faux thought.

Your eyes flicker to him as he chews on his cheek in a half-assed attempt to cover up his entertainment at your quickness.

Yuuji, focused on nothing but having a minimum of five cookies for good measure, snatches the container from your hands and carries it to the kitchen counter.

He's already opening the dish and helping himself as he chews, "I don't even know what that is, so I'm gonna take my chances."

Megumi gives a quick thank you for the cookies, and Yuuji chimes in behind a satiated mouth and crumby lips. You brush off their graces, reminding them it's just you returning the favor for the heating situation.

Just as you're about to see yourself out of their entryway, you hear an authentic offer from the kitchen.

"Hey," Yuuji wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and something about it feels oddly youthful to you, "wanna come over this weekend?"

You look at the two of them for a moment, waiting to see if there's a punchline to come, before carefully treading, "Why?"

"We're havin' some friends over," Yuuji reveals casually before going to take another large bite, "and I guess you're funny enough to hang out with us."

The hesitation in your response must be more apparent than you think because he's quick to chuckle and elaborate on the offer.

"It's not an orgy," he teases at your stiffness before grabbing at another cookie and shrugging. "We get take out, chill, drink a little, kick ass in Mario Kart."

You nod as you listen to his words. He's kind, they both are, and you know the offer to be a genuine one. Still, the situation makes your stomach ache with uncertainty at the thought of mingling with strangers for the sake of your mere — acquaintances? Neighbors? Friends?

"As fun as that sounds," you breathe, clearly trying but failing to convince them of your apologetic tone, "I don't really wanna intrude on you and your friends.

"It's not intruding if you're invited," Megumi interjects for the first time in the conversation.

Looking at where he stands against the counter, his eyes are on you. They're careful, but hopeful in a gentle kind of way. He wants you to say yes — but he'd rather swallow a knife than his own pride and admit it himself.

Your words are unconvincing when you sigh, "Not really in the hangout mood. Next time, okay?"

The two men deflate a bit, one more dramatic and obvious than the other, but they nod at your rejection. Wiping his hands off on his shorts, Yuuji walks you to the door, thanking you again for the sweets and joking about you getting home safe on your long journey back downstairs.

You can't help but giggle at his theatrics, insisting that, "If you need me this weekend, I'll be rotting away on my couch with a bottle of wine and a week's worth of Love Island to catch up on."

Yuuji laughs wholeheartedly, "Your loss, see ya."

Megumi weakly waves as his best friend swings the door shut. Once closed, Yuuji turns to him with a cheeky smile he knows can mean nothing good.

Megumi grimaces at his enthusiasm, "What?"

Yuuji nods to the door, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Think I'm gonna ask her out."

Megumi's quick to react poorly.

"What?" he borderline knocks over the water bottle next to him on the counter. He catches it, embarrassed by his obvious care for the situation as he tries to cover it up with a nonchalant scoff, "Why?"

Yuuji stares at him for a minute in disbelief before stating what he believes to be the obvious.

"'Cause she's hot and yells at us all the time?"

Megumi scoffs in distaste again. He fiddles with the rings on his right hand, pretending to be careless about a situation he's anything but careful about.

Sensing his roommate's off response, Itadori's quick to add. "Unless you wanna call dibs before I do?"

"Dibs?" Megumi groans.

"Yeah, like claiming—"

"I know what dibs means," he interrupts before Yuuji can dig his own grave any further. He slumps into the palm of his hand as his elbow rests atop the kitchen counter, "I just think that's shitty."

Yuuji, knowing Megumi well enough to sense that he's hit a sour spot, nods and backs off. He joins him at the counter again, oblivious as he grabs another cookie to chomp on. With cautious eyes and a mouth filled with chocolate, he speaks up.

"…So you don't wanna call dibs?"

.….

It's Saturday, almost Sunday, according to the cat clock on your wall.

You'd kept your word. Beneath a few blankets and practically one with your couch cushions, you're spending your weekend doing exactly what you'd anticipated.

The television continues to play the stream of episodes you're catching up on. With your second glass of red in hand, you tune in and out of the segments when the good parts catch your attention. It feels good to relax, to do nothing and to be nothing behind tipsy and fatigued eyes.

A sudden knock on your door puts a minor wedge in your plans. Sitting up with a groan, you whimper beneath your breath but move to answer it regardless.

Maybe you forgot to tip your delivery driver when he dropped off your takeout a few hours ago and he's back for revenge. Maybe it's your drunk friends, showing up to ruin your night and attempting to persuade you to join them on their foolish escapades. Maybe it's someone with the wrong address.

Locking eyes with the visitor at your door, it's Megumi. Maybe you're drunker than you thought.

His delicate eyes match yours when he scarcely smiles, "Hi."

Your eyes go to the items in his hands — a few beer bottles, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, and a deck of cards.

Giggling to yourself, you stare at him, "I think you got off a floor too early."

Megumi laughs, and when you're able to get a good look at him, you can tell he's a bit tipsy, too. His shoulders aren't as tense as they usually are, he's still broad, but a lot looser now. His eyes are glossed over with a haze you're sure yours mimic. He scratches his nose awkwardly before opening his mouth.

"I—" he cuts himself off, eyes darting to the items in his arms before returning to you, "wanted to see you."

"Me?" you're unable to stop yourself from nearly gawking.

He laughs again, not obnoxiously but easy and natural. "Yes, you. Does someone else live here?"

"Don't you have plans with your friends?" you question, still not letting him inside.

"They're upstairs," he nods, "and no, I'm not here to force you to come up."

At his words, he can see your visible relief. Opening the door fully and letting him come inside, you relish in reassurance, "Good, I really didn't wanna be fake nice right now."

A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he sets his belongings on your coffee table. "Fake nice?" he prompts.

"I mean, not that it's fake, it's just like—customer servicey. Y'know? Being kind to people in a way that's not ingenuine but—"

"Exhausting?" he finishes for you, and he's weirdly more talkative with a bit of alcohol in his veins. "Yeah, I feel that."

You sprawl onto your couch and he takes the seat next to you but refrains from leaning back as far. He watches you graze on your glass of wine, your legs crossed childishly as you gaze up at him.

"Are you like that with me?" he puts on a brave face. "Fake nice?"

He releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding when you shake your head. After a hearty sip from your drink, you talk dramatically with your hands.

"Am I even real nice to you? I've kinda been a bitch since the day I banged on your door."

Megumi shakes his head as he laughs, which in return allows you to do the same. He relaxes a bit further into the warmth of your cushions, lolling his head to look at you as he opens himself a beer.

"I don't think so," he shrugs. "You're not wrong for complaining about us being understandably annoying."

Things lighten up as time passes. The night gets a bit blurry but it's fun, carefree. The two of you sit on your tiny couch, passing a bag of pretzels back and forth, and playing stupid card games that bring out your competitive sides and don't have real rules.

Minutes bleed into hours and you're not sure what time it is when it's late enough for Megumi to start yawning. Enjoying a comfortable silence between the two of you, his voice is temperate when he asks.

"Why didn't you want to hang out with us?"

He almost seems mournful, and a part of you feels guilty as his eyes blink heavily down on you. You exhale, readjusting your legs and throwing your head back.

"Seemed like a friend group thing," is what eventually crawls up from your throat. "Felt weird being the only one who didn't know everyone, y'know?"

He considers before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. But I would've been with you."

His stare feels sharp, like he can see right through your facade and into parts of you you've buried deep a long time ago. You hate it and love it, want to drown yourself in it and voluntarily inhale until your own demise.

Unable to hold his stare, you look into your almost empty glass, swishing around the bleeding wine and ice that remains at the bottom.

"Well, you're here with me now, anyway."

Megumi continues to admire you without words. Pointing an accusatory finger back at him, you nudge his leg with your foot. "So, why aren't you up there?"

"Cause you didn't show up," he doesn't hesitate to respond. Almost as if he regrets his eagerness but still stands by the sentiment, he clears his throat before adding, "Was weirdly hoping you would, but—"

He doesn't finish his sentence, trailing off with a lame shrug.

His eyes look greener when they're a bit more watery. Fuck it.

Slowly, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time to assess his reactions, you move to crawl into his lap. You sense a difference in his breathing pattern, but other than that, he makes no move to pull away from you. He lets you carefully straddle his legs before getting comfortable atop him, when he places his hands on the plush between your hips and thighs.

Leaning in, giving him any chance to reject you, stop you, hate you, you continue to keep his eye as your lips just barely brush against his. He does the same, refusing to look away from you as if he'll never get this opportunity again. As if he wants to take a picture and relish it forever.

"Stop me," you bite through a hushed whisper, daring him to put an end to this before it begins.

His breath is lulled against your own when he whispers, "No."

You kiss him, and he kisses you back. It starts simple, like you're learning all about one another's creases and folds. Between shaky inhales and nervous hands, you lean into one another's touch, savoring every taste and sound you can manage.

Megumi feels brave, and on one particular gasp from you, he prudently skims his tongue across your lower lip before slipping it inside. Rubbing against your own with a fervent need, you open your jaw further for him to have whatever he wants. Between your increased breathing, soft moans, and greedy hands, the two of you slowly become messy and desperate for one another.

Hips wantonly moving against his thighs, he flexes instinctually as you begin to grind yourself down on him. He meets your movements, half hard as he presses into you, both of you whimpering at the new-found friction. The two of you reduce to whiney teenagers, practically swallowing one another whole and dry-humping fully clothed before you open your eyes to look at him.

Megumi, eyes shut and whimpering into your neck, is too good for this — deserves more than this. He's kind, respectful, funny (though you'd never tell him that to his face), and you're both drunk. It feels so fucking good, but it isn't right. It's not supposed to happen like this.

Slowing your movements, you pull back to see his face. Dazed, he opens his pretty green eyes to look up at you like you hold the stars and sun in your hands.

"We shouldn't," you pant, brushing your bangs back and catching your breath. "We should stop."

Megumi, confused and hurt, but instantly moving you off of his lap with a gentle hold, nods in agreement. "Right, right, we're — we're drunk," he whispers, almost ashamed of everything that just happened.

Before you can say anything, he's readjusting himself and standing up. A bit more sober than he was a few minutes ago, he's straightening himself out and making his way to your door.

"Sorry—" he keeps repeating himself, "I'm… I'm so sorry."

He's gone before you can reassure him that there's nothing to apologize for.

.....

You don't hear from him the next morning — or afternoon. 

When night falls, you've given up that there's any hope of saving whatever it was the two of you had going. 

Wanting to drown yourself in your own sorrows, you stare at the text from your friend before you and weigh your options. 

Stay in, cry yourself to a babbling mess, and finish your show

Answer their text and agree to go to this party with them

Thinking back to last night and how badly you fucked that one up, you decide the first choice is off-limits. Hoping you don't regret your decision, it's not long before you're looking decent enough to lock your door behind you and start the commute to your friends. 

The walk isn't terrible, being ten minutes to your friend's place and an additional fifteen to whoever's party you're attending. On the west side of campus, you can hear the muffled music and drunken squeals of the attendees from down the street. 

The party itself is fine, nothing special. The lime seltzer in your hand is still half full when you stray away from your friends in search of the bathroom. 

There's a line formed down the hallway of drunk girls laughing, couples swallowing one another's faces, and a single guy slumped against the wall in his own world. Taking a second glance at the end of the line, you recognize the lone drunk as Yuuji. 

Gently tapping his shoulder, his eyes blink open and he's nearly crushing you to death when wrapping his arms around you in excitement. He lets his animation get the best of him, lifting you in the air and spinning you once before he realizes he can't handle another. Leaning on the wall to steady both you and him, you're smiling at his sloppy yet endearing enthusiasm. 

"What are you doing here!?" he beams, swaying back and forth and reeking of cheap booze. 

"My friends dragged me out of the house," you tease before noticing truly how incoherent he is. Your nose crinkles with worry, "You fucked up?"

He can barely stand up straight, eyes unable to focus in one spot for too long as he blearily looks at you before skimming his body against the wall again. He's talking in slow gibberish, something about having one too many and wanting to talk to this pretty girl from his linguistics lecture before she leaves.

"Hey," you gently grab his jaw to steady his gaze. "Did you come here alone?"

Yuuji doesn't answer, or rather he does but it's nonsensical and impossible to go off of. You sigh, quickly scanning the suddenly overwhelming crowd around you before grabbing his arm and speaking kindly, yet reflective of a mother. 

"Let me take you back to our building, okay?" you prompt him to stand up straight and follow your lead. "I'm going back anyways, I'll walk with you."

Yuuji's eyes light up with excitement at the thought of a journey with his neighbor friend, and it's not long before he's dragging his feet over one another and using your hand as a guide to the door. 

On your walk home, you ache for the comfort of your warm bed, the feeling of taking these god-forsaken heels off, and Megumi's forgiveness. You wonder if you'll see him when dropping off Yuuji at his door — you pathetically hope so. 

However, Yuuji didn't show up to this party alone.

Megumi, who had been grabbing him a drink and caught a glimpse of you two, saw the entire thing without context — Yuuji's hands around your waist, you caressing his jaw, the two of you leaving abruptly together. 

He downs both his and Yuuji's drinks with ease. 

..…

Megumi wasn't home.

Disappointed but relieved to see Yuuji safe in the comfort of his apartment, you help him collapse on his couch.

Turning him on his side and making him drink at least two cups of water before throwing a blanket over him and leaving a note, you close the door behind you with a heavy heart.

A few minutes later, you're a bit more at ease. Feet now ridden of silly high heels and skin against the soft cotton of your bed, you find yourself flooded with thoughts of Megumi.

You wake up to a constant thud on your front door. Picking up your phone, it's almost two in the morning and you're not even sure you're not dreaming when you're feet carry you to the blistering noise of a fist on your door.

Swinging it open with half-closed eyes, you're more than prepared to fight a murder charge to get whoever the hell this is to leave you alone. But before you can curse them with everything in you, you realize it's Megumi.

"Hi," he whispers. It's a start contrast from the violent banging on your door he was responsible for two seconds ago, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

"Hi," you respond, suddenly more than awake and just as breathless. "You okay?"

"Are you sleeping with Yuuji?"

Your heart skips exactly two beats before you can accurately comprehend his question. It's then when you notice that he's drunk, disgustingly so. You're not sure how it wasn't the first thing you noticed - but looking at his green eyes again, you give yourself some grace.

"… What?" is all you can pathetically muster.

"Itadori," he slurs. His face is pale with hurt and the collar of his shirt is all wrinkled.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Yeah, I know who Yuuji is, but why the hell are you asking me that?"

"Because you shouldn't be," he declares through a heavy tongue and spinning head. You think you hear his voice crack with emotion when he continues, "I don't want you to sleep with him."

You're sure you're still dreaming as you take in his words. Since the moment you knocked on the door one floor above you, sleeping with Yuuji has never crossed your mind. You've been far too busy focusing on thinking about the man in front of you, who's wasted beyond belief and accusing you of something that not only doesn't make sense but hurts a bit.

He fumbles on his words, swallowing dryly and spiraling.

"You shouldn't sleep with him just because he walks around shirtless and invites you to hang out with us."

Your eyebrows pull downwards with what Megumi knows is hurt. He can't stop himself from talking or spewing nonsensical things just because he can.

Your voice is shaky when you plea, "Megumi, what?"

"I mean—he's my best friend, he's great," he throws his hands up to surrender the truth. "But we played video games and—and we kissed. And you're always looking at me with those eyes and—"

"Megumi," your voice comes tired now, cold. "You're drunk."

"You left with him. And you were whispering in his ear and touching his arm." He frowns, feeling sick just thinking about it again. He shakes the nightmare from his head when repeating his prior question.

"Are you sleeping with him?" he asks again, more accusatory this time around.

He watches your eyes fill with water, but it's not long-lived before you're blinking away any sign of weakness and cementing your walls up again.

"If you didn't notice," you spit with venom, "your friend is drunk off of his ass. I walked him home since he could barely stand on his own."

As if you're speaking another language, Megumi dumbly gapes at your confession.

"You—what?"

You press with ice in your words, "Walked him home. He's passed out on your couch right now."

"Oh." Megumi hadn't returned to his apartment before coming to yours. He'd walked home from the shitty party with one destination in mind, immediately talking the elevator to the fifth floor and finding your familiar floor.

He feels stupid, nauseous with guilt, and god, does his head hurt. His heart hurts too when you scoff and cross your arms in defense.

"Wanna go back to the part where you were practically calling me a slut?"

He cringes, "No, no god no, that's not what I was trying to—"

You don't give him the luxury of explaining himself. Turning your back and slamming the door, you take away his chance of redemption.

You sound unrecognizable when you tell him, "Go to fucking bed, Fushiguro."

.….

The birds outside of your window remind you that it's Sunday, and the open book on your desk reminds you that not only do you have class tomorrow, but you have an assignment due before midnight.

Memories of last night's conversation — if you could even call it that — with Megumi make you feel queazy. Nothing happened in the way you'd wanted. It all just spiraled out of control, like water slipping through a cracked ceiling, you'd just watched it leak without remorse.

The continued chirping outside reminds you that it's quiet, something you should use to your advantage. A light in this mess of a pathetic story.

You'll study, you decide. You'll grab a quick coffee from the cafe across the street and get some actual work done. Something you should've done a long time ago, something you’d ignored that ended up with this this heartbreak.

Not even ten minutes later, you're decent enough to slide your shoes on and grab your house keys. Opening the door into the hallway, you're met with familiar eyes.

Megumi looks disheveled, sitting with his knees up against the wall of your hallway. At your abrupt opening of the front door, he's quick to stand up and dust his pants off from the grime of the hallway carpet. You notice he has a paper bouquet of pinks and blues in his hand and an exhausted frown on his face.

When he looks at you, he can almost feel the air leaving your lungs as your stomach drops.

The first words you say to him are softer than he expects, than he thinks he deserves, but still carried by a look of disapproval.

"Were you here all night?" your lip turns with disgust.

"No—" he spews too quickly. Seeing your expression that clearly reads disbelief, he slows himself down. Taking a deep breath, he repeats himself with a bit more certainty. "No, I've been here since like, seven maybe?"

"Why?"

His hand trembles in a way he hopes you have the respect to ignore as he moves to give you the bouquet. "Because I'm sorry," his voice is steady, like he's been practicing in the mirror.

Choosing to make him work for it, your eyes flicker to the flowers unimpressed before finding his face again.

"For?" you cruelly push him further.

But Megumi's determined to meet your forces just as equally. His voice gains confidence as he speaks clearly, "For panicking and assuming the worst last night. I was drunk, but that's not an excuse. It was a douchebag thing to do."

Admiring how your face softens at his apology but still carries creased lines of worry, Megumi half expects your response.

"And?"

This is the part he's a bit unprepared for.

"And for leaving that night," his volume dips with the confession, eyes wanting to find comfort in the floor so badly but refusing to leave your own as he tries and tries and tries to fix this, "I..."

His lips move before he can think twice about his words, "I thought it was what you wanted."

His confession cracks something inside of you, like nails digging crescents into raw skin. Slowly, you gesture for him to come inside. He hesitates but follows when you move towards the couch, the same couch you'd straddled him on two nights prior. It looks different in the daylight.

Megumi's careful with each step, as if he's walking on eggshells, when he slowly sits beside you on the couch. Placing the bouquet on your table, he moves as if you're a predator, as if he'll make one wrong move and you'll snap, lurching at him and sinking your talons into his neck. You hate how it makes you feel.

Your words surprise the both of you when they eventually come. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I wanted you to stay I just—felt bad."

Felt bad? Megumi's mind goes numb at the realization. Felt bad for him? Like when you do a good deed to cancel out a bad one? Did you kiss him that night because you pitied him?

Before his mind runs itself further into the worst-case scenario, he's brought back to reality as you continue.

"We were drunk, and I didn't want that to be how it happened y'know?"

He starts at you blankly, "It?" He lamely asks.

This time, it's your voice that weakens with shame. He watches you fiddle with your fingers, the same ones he remembers feeling in his hair and on his skin. The ones he wants to feel again.

"Felt like I was coming onto you, and you deserved better than that," you eventually reveal softly, correcting yourself with certainty. "Deserve better than that."

And he feels stupid. God, does Megumi feel stupid. All this time, he'd been thinking you regretted the why of the situation, kissing him like you did. He'd never stopped to think about the fact of how you did it. Never thought you'd be so inclined to consider his wishes.

You think he regrets it, and that is the last thing he wants you to believe.

Taking a risk, Megumi lays a gentle palm on your thigh. He does so slowly, giving you a chance to revolt and bite his hand clean off the bone. You don't so he relaxes his hand.

It's not sexual, not desperate and needy like how it was the other night. It's calm. comforting. Another way for him to say I'm still here, aren't I?

"I'm not great with words," he starts, "but I was very much into it. I need you to know that. You didn't—do anything I didn't want."

Softly and ignoring the criticism from the voice in your head for once, you nod.

You recognize the familiar pull of his lips when he softly grins. "Think it's pretty obvious now, but in case it's not," he leans into this whole communicating thing, "I really like being around you."

He thinks his heart grows a size when you weakly smile back at him, "You like being around me?"

He shrugs, laughing at your sarcasm. "Around you, with you. I guess I just like you, really."

You raise your eyebrows, challenging his statement, "Are you still drunk?"

"Fuck no."

You hum shortly. "Hungover?"

"Disgustingly so," he grimaces at the reminder of how nauseous he is.

"Thinking clearly?"

"Never really around you, but clear as I can be."

It's soft and sweet, and this is how you wanted it to be. Naturally, as if you're both magnets being pulled to one another, Megumi is carefully guiding you into his lap as you're naturally making yourself at home in his hold.

The position almost exactly mimics the one you'd found yourself in on Friday night, but this time, it's different. It feels different — golden instead of red and light with a newfound meaning.

With gentle eyes and slight nods from each of you, you kiss once more. His mouth moves the same, eager yet graceful as he leans into you. No wandering hands or drunken hiccups, you feel one another smile into the kiss until it is all giggles and teeth.

"Y'know, if you wanted to ask me out," you pull away from him, accusatory with an underlying teasing, "you should've just asked like a normal person instead of accusing me of sleeping with your friend."

Megumi groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck. You feel the heat of his cheeks when he sighs.

"Yeah, that wasn't my finest moment."

Kisses are stolen and silence is shared until he yawns you remember how awful he must still feel from drinking so much. Crawling off of his lap, you ignore the butterflies in your stomach whines he whines at the loss of your weight.

"Want anything?" you call out as you walk towards the kitchenette. "I have Advil and a bagel with your name on it."

Megumi hums at the thought, not confirming or denying the offer, as his eyes remain locked in on you in a blissful comfort.

Your voice becomes more distant as you turn the corner, "I'll even give you those eyes I know you like so much."

A muffled sound of humiliation can be heard from the couch, "God, please forget I said that."

Putting the bagel in the toaster and reaching up to the medicine cabinet, you laugh carelessly.

"Never."

…..

Yuuji wakes up with a throbbing headache and an acidic burning in the back of his throat.

He groans, turning on his side before realizing that — he's not in his bed. With blurry vision and sweaty hands fumbling to survey the environment around him, he feels for his phone. The screen is far too bright and completely overridden of missed calls and texts, reading a mocking 2:14 PM when he groans.

When yelling Megumi's name a handful of times doesn't work (it usually does), he opens his Find My Friends app and tracks his roommate. Seeing his icon appear right next to his own while ironically hearing your echoing laughter ring from upstairs, he laughs.

Before he closes his eyes again and deals with a hangover from hell, he sends Megumi a text before tossing his phone across the room.

Ur welcome for not actually calling dibs.

[kpop---scenarios]

Halloween Night

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Smut, mostly smut. be warned, there's smut. Contains Dacryphilia (aroused by tears) CNC, rough smut, unprotected sex. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.]

Summary: You and Minho are friends with benefits, who have special plans on Halloween.

Word Count: 1.7k

Everything Taglist: @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@wife2straykidss @silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz

@ayyonoona @31maze13

This is a part of @mirohs-aurora-society kinktober event!

Networks: @ksmutsociety| @straykidsland

October 31st.

Halloween night.

Your favorite day of the year. The one day of the year that you get to have a extra little fun, with someone you aren't supposed to have. Yeah, you could dress up and go out to drink and meet a stranger, but you didn't want that. Your friends tried to invite you out but they know you won't go, and you didn't want to have to tell them why. They believed that you didn't like Halloween because that's what you told them, but if only they knew the truth.

You sit on your couch, wearing your sexy little night gown, your makeup done, extra mascara. He likes when your mascara runs when you cry. You're watching a show while you partially listen to the party goers at the bar across the street. The sounds of laughter, drinking coming through your open window that goes out to your fire escape. You pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth, slowly chewing it as your stomach twists and turns in anticipation for tonight's events. Your pussy throbs at the thought of what was going to happen, you couldn't wait. you stand up, making your way to your kitchen, grabbing some water. You take a sip, the water just barely hitting your lips before you hear a sound. You turn around, setting your cup on the counter, you walk back to the living room, staring at the open window. Your stomach drops, something feels off. A chill runs down your spine as you look around. You wander towards the open window when you see a figure just outside, standing on your fire escape, wearing a Jason Vorhees mask. Your heart sinks as the person slowly walks towards the window, he slowly climbs inside, jumping down onto your hardwood floors. Your heart drops, you're frozen in your spot as he slowly stalks towards you.

He's close, you turn to run but he lunges for you. He hand grips your wrist, pulling you back. Your back is held against his chest, he lets go over your wrist, his arm wrapping around your throat. He leans in close to you, his mask grazing your face.

“You have no idea how much I want this.” He groans, running his hand down your body. You can feel the heat from his body radiating onto you. His hand grips the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up slightly. For a split second he releases you, pulling his arm away from you. You run to the kitchen, trying to find something you could use. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as you frantically search for a weapon. But you were a single girl, you didn't have much. He walks in after you, without hesitation. You turn around, holding up a knife, threatening him.

“Get out!” You yell, pushing the knife in front of him. He lets out a low chuckle as he walks towards you more. He knew you wouldn't use it. He grabs the handle of the knife, ripping it out of your hand, tossing it onto the floor. He keeps walking, you back up, until you're pressed up against the counter. He pushes himself against you, breathing heavily as he runs his fingers down your face.

“You gonna cry?” He whispers, leaning closer to you. “I want you to cry while I fuck you.” He groans.

“Please.” You whimper, letting a tear roll down your cheek. He lets out a low groan, pushing his erection between your legs.

“Get on your knees.” He snaps, pushing down onto your shoulders. You quickly drop to your knees, unbuckling his belt, pulling his zipper down before you pull his jeans and his boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock stands straight out, pre-cum seeping from his tip.

“Suck my cock.” He demands. You hesitate for a moment, he grabs a chunk of your hair, yanking your head down, making you look up at him.

“Do as you're told.” He grunts. “Open your mouth.” He says.

More tears spill from your eyes as you open your mouth, he shuffles forward, thrusting his cock into your mouth. You close your lips around him, swirling your tongue all around, as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth. He moans loudly, throwing his masked head back as he clenches his fists. You take more of him in your mouth, and at the same time, he thrusts his cock down your throat, tears now spilling from your eyes as he rams himself into you, over and over again. He moans loudly, the sight of tears falling down your face as you choke on his cock, makes him even fucking harder.

“Fuck baby, that's right, swallow my fucking cock.” He spits, holding onto your head now, fucking your face, hard.

He grunts as he pulls his cock from your mouth. He helps you up off the floor, your mascara smudged around your eyes, spit and cum dripping from your face.

“Get on the table, spread your legs.” He snaps, pointing to your kitchen table. You stare at the masked man, unmoving. He cocks his head to the side slightly, chuckling. He leans in close to you, his eyes staring into yours before you turn your head away. “You wanna be punished, princess?” He asks, grabbing onto your chin, forcing you to look at him. His fingers dig into your jaw as he steps away from you, pushing you towards the table. You climb on laying down, spreading your legs wide. Your nightgown slides up your body, exposing your sopping wet, unclothed cunt.

He walks over to you, dragging a finger down your pussy, lightly touching your clit before he rams his fingers inside of you.

“F-fuck.” You cry out, clenching yourself around his fingers. He pulls them out of you, taking his mask off with his free hand. You smile up at the man as he sticks his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices from them. “Mhmm, it's nice to see your face.” You whisper. He smiles down at you, stroking his cock as he lines himself up with you. He shoves his cock into you, making you moan loudly. He continues thrusting, reaching up to your nightgown. He grabs onto it, pulling hard to rip it, exposing your bouncing breasts as he fucks you.

“I've fucking missed you.” He groans, grabbing onto your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You reach down to play with your clit, but he swats your hand away. “You'll cum only by me doing it, princess.” He groans. “And you'll cum when I fucking tell you too.”

Your clit throbs as his fingers dig into your thighs, his cock sliding out before he rams it back inside of you.

“P-please…fuck, please Minho…” You cry, your clit throbbing relentlessly from being untouched.

“What princess?” He groans. “What do you want?” He asks.

“I wanna cum… please…please let me cum.” You huff. Minho smiles at you, the tip of his finger barely dragging over your clit, teasing the fuck out of you. You clench around his cock, whimpering.

“So fucking needy for me.” He moans, placing his fingers on your clit, rubbing it as he continues to shove his cock into you. Your back arches at the sensation, you felt like you were going to explode. Minho grunts as he thrusts into you, watching your tear stained face, your eyes rolling back into your head. He smiles widely watching you wiggle beneath him, holding back your orgasm until he tells you you're allowed to cum. He leans down, pinning you down, pressing his lips to yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your tongues swirling around each others. He pulls away from you, holding onto your chin to make you look at him.

“Open your mouth.” He demands.

You smirk, licking your lips before you open your mouth, wide. Minho leans over you, still holding onto your chin as he slowly lets spit fall from his lips dripping down into your mouth. You swallow it, licking your lips again, smiling up at him.

“That's a good girl.” He murmurs. He smiles at you before he rams his cock into you as hard as he can, rubbing your clit faster. “Cum for me princess.” He huffs. “Cum all over my fucking cock.”

You scream out in pleasure as he hits all the right fucking spots. You can't take it anymore, you can't hold it in anymore. He rams into you again and again, until you finally explode, the feeling of pure euphoria washes over your body as you cum, hard, crying out loudly.

“Fuck.” Minho grunts. “Good fucking girl.”

He digs his fingers deep into your thighs as he chases his own high, his cock pulsating inside you until he finally explodes, spilling his cum deep inside your cunt, coating your walls.

Minho gently thrusts, milking himself for all he has, making sure you get every ounce of his cum.

He pulls out of you, allowing his cum to seep from your pussy. Minho pulls up his boxers and his jeans before he helps you up and off the table. Your legs shaking, knees weak but Minho holds you up, trying to sniffle a laugh, but you still hear it.

“Shut the fuck up.” You half laugh.

“I mean it's been a year since you've been fucked that good, it only makes sense for you to shake like that.” Minho laughs.

“Okay, that's unnecessary.” You laugh. “I don't wait for one day a year to ge fucked you know. I do have a boyfriend.” You say with a wink.

He smiles at you before lifting you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Sure, but they're not as good as me.” He says, taking you to the bathroom. He sets you down, turning on the bath, letting the hot water fill the tub. He strips off his clothes before helping you take off your torn nightgown. You both get into the bath, your back resting against Minho’s chest as he gently rubs your shoulder.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks.

You sleepily nod your head. “So much fun.” You say, resting your head against him.

“What are you doing the rest of the night?” He asks.

“Probably going to bed.” You chuckle. “Do you wanna join me?”

“I'd love to.” He murmurs, kissing your head. “You know… I'd like to make this friends with benefits thing we have going on more like a boyfriend girlfriend thing.” He whispers.

“Can we still do our Halloween role playing?” You ask.

“I won't ever give these Halloween nights up.” He laughs, holding onto you tightly.

“Then I'd love nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Haechan x fem!Reader x Jaehyun

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. MLM behavior. Breast feeding. Lactation kink.

| wc: 1.6k

| aurora's note: originally written for my poly!ilichil x fem!oc fic. edited as much as possible to be reader friendly. also wrote this in the middle of the night, so i apologize for any errors

It was beginning to piss you off, the uncomfortableness from being so full throughout the morning. The baby'd woken up in the middle of the night, maybe around 2AM, screaming and crying, an obvious tell that she was hungry. Jungwoo brought her to yours and Mark's room, gently woke you up, then handed her over for you to feed. You were half awake the entire time. Mark was dead asleep, Jungwoo was brushing your hair with his fingers to comfort you, and the rest of the house was quiet. You were beginning to hate the fact that you were the only person in the family who could feed your daughter-- Sure, she would wean off eventually and move onto bottles, and then the boys could take turns; Until then, you were all she had.

But once she went back to sleep around 3AM in Jungwoo's room, you couldn't sleep. One of your breasts was still full and tender... The other was sore from being suckled, and as the sun rose, it began to feel full too. You tried to distract yourself. Watching movies in the living room, scrolling through videos on your phone, making a snack in the kitchen. Nothing worked. So you crawled back into bed, this time with Johnny who rolled over in his sleep to embrace you in his arms before the two of you crashed. And then there was more crying around 6AM. The whole house woke up finally, Jungwoo and Doyoung bringing the baby into the room while Johnny helped you sit up and get comfortable before taking her in your arms. You tried to help yourself by having her latch onto the opposite breast than before-- However, she wanted nothing to do with you. She was crying like she was hungry, but no matter what you did, she just wouldn't give in. So Doyoung took her back. Jaehyun and Haechan entered, both of them visibly exhausted, Haechan rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"Oh, sweet girl, what is it, hmmm?" Jaehyun cooed while Doyoung handed her over to him. "Why're you giving your mom so much trouble?"

"Maybe she just had a nightmare?" Doyoung theorized.

"Maybe."

Slowly, she calmed down in Jaehyun's arms, the crying turning into coos that turned into snores. Doyoung offered to put her in the crib in his room since it was the furthest down the hall, so if she started crying again so early, no one else would be bothered by it. He and Jungwoo left with the baby, Johnny slowly slumped back into his pillows, and Haechan and Jaehyun turned like they were ready to leave.

"Wait--" you called out to them.

They both stopped.

"Please... It hurts..."

They turned to look at you, worried. What hurt? Did you need something? Whatever it was, they were always willing to help, just say the word and they would turn back time for you. So they approached you slowly while watching you struggle to get comfortable in bed, Johnny making more room for you to sit with the two of them.

“She won’t drink from the right side,” you whined. “It fucking hurts now.”

Haechan climbed onto the bed to settle between you and Johnny, his hands drifting upwards to massage your sore right breast. Jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed at your left side.

“They’re uneven. They’re full. It hurts like a bitch to have her just sucking on it for hours and have nothing happen. I’m so fucking over it. Please, just do something…”

A direct request was unnecessary by that point. Jaehyun and Haechan were like sharks lured into bait the way they were staring directly at your tits, both of them eagerly trying to free you again from your maternity clothing. Haechan was the first to do something— The second you were free from the restraints of your bra, he leaned in to wrap his lips gently around the sensitive nipple of your right side which hurt the most. You moaned with relief. It wasn’t sexual, not this time at least… In the past, especially when the boys first came home from tour to see you so, so pregnant, Jae and Hyuck couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, they were always trying to fuck you or at least suck on your tits. Now that there was a baby taking everyone’s attention and all of your physical wellness, they had retreated slightly in order to let you focus on getting better… But you needing them so badly that you had to beg for their help made it impossible for them to hold back anymore; and once Jaehyun began sucking on your left nipple, you couldn’t help but feel completely as peace with the fact that you were finally being given the aid you so desperately needed after weeks of nothing but diapers, baby vomit, and having issues getting her to latch on to you.

Jae looked up at you through his lashes. He could tell that the baby had drunk from that side earlier so it was more sore than full, which meant that he had to be more kind to you than Hyuck who was eagerly sucking and massaging, moaning quietly as he did so. The fullness that kept you up all morning was finally fading… You felt tired all of a sudden. They did you a favor by drinking up everything stored away inside of your body just so you could get another few hours of rest before inevitably waking up again with that same, unbearable fullness and a crying baby down in Doyoung’s bedroom.

Between the two of them, Haechan was more into the idea of the milk aspect. He loved the taste, and the intimacy of having his hair played with while he suckled, drinking every single drop until both of you were satisfied. As for Jaehyun, the attraction came out of wanting to help you. Knowing that he was the one rushing to your aid, the one watching as you melted and thanked him for getting rid of the soreness, your body slumping against his, all of it made Jae swoon. He’d do anything for your family. It was the most important thing in the entire world to him— Helping you out, no matter the request or the cost was the best thing you could ask of him.

Hyuck pulled away first to catch his breath. As he did so, a bit of milk dribbled out of your nipple and slid down your breast. He immediately went to catch it with his tongue, licking up the trail of liquid to make sure he got every bit of it before returning to sucking on you. Your hands found warmth in his long brown hair that he refused to cut ever since the baby was born because he loved how she would reach up to tug on it when he’d play with her.

Jae pulled away next, his hand still cupping the underside of your breast, fingers gently kneading the fat. “Feeling better?”

All you could do was nod in your state of tranquility.

He quietly chortled. “Should’ve woken one of us up earlier.”

“I felt bad,” you replied.

“Don’t,” Hyuck said. “We’d rather lose sleep than see you in pain.” And then he went right back to his task with a satisfied groan and a roll of his hips into the bed.

Jaehyun moved one of his hands down to your thighs for him to massage that too in tandem with your tit. With nothing else dribbling out or left to suck on, he knew that you were tapped out on his side, so all he could do was try to keep you relaxed while Haechan played the catch up game on the other side in order to even you out like you asked for.

“We’ll start weaning her off this week,” Jae said. “Need to give you a break so it doesn’t keep getting this bad. We’ll make a schedule for bottle feeding, too, that way it’s fair.”

You thought about how all of that was already decided in your mind hours ago when you were sitting on the couch watching TV, but hearing Jaehyun say it out loud with Haechan and a half-asleep Johnny as witnesses made you feel like it was real, that the boys would finally get to chip in so you could sleep for an entire night.

Hyuck pulled away while licking his lips and sighing heavily. He was done, too, the pain in your breasts subsiding at a rapid pace.

“Thank you,” you whispered, sinking into the bed some more.

Hyuck kissed you passionately, the taste of your milk on his hot tongue.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, can you do it in one of your rooms,” Johnny grumbled as he rolled onto his stomach and stuffed his face full of his pillow.

Jae pulled Hyuck away from you, muttering something about how you looked too tired to have sex, and that you needed to rest before the baby would wake up again. Haechan seemed a bit disappointed, but he was also incredibly understanding. So despite his hard-on in his pajama pants, Haechan adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose then slid off the bed after Jaehyun leaned in to kiss your cheek. You wanted to ask for them to stay or at least help you into one of their rooms where the three of you could cuddle together, but exhaustion hit you like a truck in a single instant, preventing you from forming a coherent sentence. They just laughed at how cute you were when you were that tired. Then with another kiss and a quiet series of “I love you,” they left, and Johnny reached to scoop you into his arms again.

[spidybaby]

Footnote | Part Two

Summary: After you close the chapter of him in your life, he will open your chapter to keep writing on it, hoping you would let him do it.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of surgery, asshole!gavi (kinda)

A/N: Hi, I want to apologize for the time I took to write this, something happened and I wasn't in the best mood to write. But I hope that you like it <3

Part one | Part three

"Papi, can you help me?"

You walked downstairs with your computer in hand. You wanted him to critique your most recent paper.

You've been working on it for a month. It was worth a big portion of your grade, and you needed it to be perfect.

Your father reads it carefully, making sure to think about the inside context of your work. He finishes way too quick for your liking.

"It's good." He smiles.

You frown. Looking at your laptop and back at him. "Just good?" You smile.

"I mean, I kinda got lost halfway through it, but it's good, princess."

You take a deep breath, you needed more than just > it's good < you needed someone to tell you every little mistake without caring if it was going to make you mad.

You needed someone who would help you give you an idea or a suggestion to get the paper better.

You close your laptop, roll your eyes, and thank him for the help. You were back on square one. You needed to trust your intuition and check it one more time on your own.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing, thank you." You say, walking away.

"Then what's up with the eyes rolling?"

"Dad, I need more than just an >it's good<. I need you to read it and give me your thoughts, give me your honest opinion on what you like and dislike, what you find confusing and what you feel needs to change."

"I think it's good, isn't that enough?" He asks. You roll your eyes again, walking past him to get out of his office. "Well, I'm sorry, I'm not Pablo." He shouts as you walk upstairs.

You shut your door angry. He was right. He's not him.

He was the one you would trust your work, he would give you his honest opinion, and you trusted him with your heart.

He was your safe space.

"No entiendo cuál es el problema, dáselo!" (I don't get what's the problem, just give it to her) Aurora says, confused look on her face.

"Joder, no quieres que también me arrodille a pedirle que sea mi esposa?" (don't you want me to get in one knee and ask her to marry me?) Pablo says, rolling her eyes at his sister's proposal.

He got the tickets for the Ballon D'or Ceremony, he was getting the golden boy award. Originally, he was getting a ticket for his parents, his sister and for you.

But since you are not part of that equation anymore, he has to give somebody the ticket left.

Aurora rolled her eyes and told him to give it to Paula, since he seems to favors her over you. Pablo immediately declined. Paula was not even on the options list.

"She doesn't get me like Y/n did" he says, sad eyes.

Aurora then suggested him to talk to you. To mend things and to get you to go with them to Paris. He again declined the idea, he didn't felt ready to do so.

"Then I'm not sure what else to say" she throws a pillow at him. "You were the one who fucked things up, Pablo."

Pablo turns his face to her, mouth open to the point its hurting. "I did not" he shouts.

Aurora laughed, she heard both Pablo's point of view and her brother's. She was mortified when you told her what happened. She wanted to kill Pablo with a pillow.

"You did." she says, smiling at him. "You literally rejected her over some girl who you don't even find attractive, just funny."

Pablo can't defend himself. He did fucked up.

"If you don't find Paula someone attractive, then why are you with her?" she asked, not understanding her brother. "You had the chance to be with the girl you know and who knows you, every flaw, every picky thing, every little detail."

Pablo shakes his head, not feeling like having the conversation with Aurora. He can't even open his gallery without feeling like crying at how much he misses you.

"Okay, one more smile and we are good" the photographer says, pointing the camera back at you.

You smile, holding the glass trophy in your hands. After the flash shoots at you, you stopped smiling. You didn't feel happiness or proudness.

You got a trophy and a honorary mention in your College Magazine. That magazine is read by a lot of local poets and important writers. The teachers and the head of the college Magazine congratulate you.

They all were proud of you for the amazing work you did with the poem of "Footnote."

To you it was just a mask, you didn't feel happy about winning with that one work. It was just a dump of your feelings about the Pablo situation, it wasn't meant to be a prestigious thing.

You walked upstairs with your trophy in hand. Your mom noticed you were quiet and lost, so she follows you to your room.

You throw the trophy in the garbage bin near your bed, you don't want to see anything that reminds you of Pablo, and that included that poem.

"What are you doing?" you mom asks, walking inside and picking the award, reading it. "You won an award?"

You nod, changing and getting into bed, you wanted to sleep and to have some time for yourself. Your parents were worried about you, so their plan was to make you as much company as possible.

"Y/n, I'm talking to you." she says, stern tone. "Why did you threw this?"

"Mom, I'm tired." you whine, you cover yourself with the blanket, avoiding the conversation. "Go away, find someone else to bother."

But she wasn't having it, she threw the cover off of you. The look on her face is making you regret saying that. "Cuál es tu problema?" (what is your problem?) she asks, tired of your attitude.

"I don't have a problem, I just want to sleep."

"Well, you are not." she grabs your arm, pulling it up and making you sit. "Why did you threw this?" she asks again.

You don't want to cry again.

You already cry enough for a lifetime, enough for the next ten heartbreaks. Enough for the rest of your failed love life.

"Y/n, mija" she seats in bed with you. "I know this is hard for you, but you have to stop with this mentality, this won't be beneficial for you. You need to get a grip, put on some makeup, and just get better. As harsh as that sounds, that's necessary for you. You need this."

You nod, wiping your tears.

"I just miss him so much." you confess.

"I know, and I would love to take your pain away, but Pablo made his choice, and you need to accept that even if that choice hurst you, you need to keep going. You can't just be a bed bug and live you life trying to escape someone. You are not that girl."

You nod, smiling at her and giving her a hug. "Thank you, mami."

"Now, get some rest. I'm taking you out to celebrate your award." She kisses your temple, getting up and walking to the door. "Don't worry, Honey. It will all go away."

"It will all go away" you repeat, nodding and smiling.

"Joder, que ya voy" Pablo yells, walking quickly to the door.

The knocks are consistent and very desperates, he feels like someone is being murdered on the other side.

"Paula?" he asks, confused on what the girl is doing at his house. "Why are you here?"

She scuff, rolling her eyes and walking inside. She takes a seat on his couch, looking at him while he close the door and walks very slowly to where she is.

"Well?"

"Pablo, tell me what you asked me two days ago?"

"Qué?" he's more confused now, what is she even talking about? "How am I supposed t-"

"You asked me." She interrupts him. "Hey, want to get some coffee? I said yes, you then said, Let's meet at this place I like, see you there at 3 o'clock on Wednesday."

He then remembers, he did asked her to go out, but he was so busy with his own mind that he forgot about her. He feels bad because she doesn't deserve that, but at the same times it's a mistake, shit happens, right?

"That still doesn't answer why are you here." he says, very careless about what she just told him.

"Gavi!" she whines, "You left me there, by myself."

"Okay?"

"For more than an hour." she yells.

He then looks at the clock, it was almost five.

"Sorry, I guess."

"Oh, you guess?" she laughs. "Don't tell me you are still crying over her."

He frowns. "What are you talking about?"

He hopes she says that she got confused and that it was nothing. But she didn't, she looked at him with this dirty look of hers, eyes roaming around the room while trying to get the right words.

"Your friends told me that you and Y/n are not friends anymore, and after the party you have been so distant and just so out of your mind, if it's not that, then what is?"

Pablo clench his jaw, he doesn't want to talk about you with his own family, and he won't start doing it with her. He knows Paula is just doing that to get a reaction out of him.

"Please leave. I don't feel good, sorry that I forgot."

That was a first with her.

But it wasn't the end.

"So you are not coming to my birthday party?" she asks, mad at the boy in front of her. "Gavi, you promised."

He rolls his eyes, tired of her whining. He regrets even inviting giving her a follow back after the party. Feeling tired of how she always pressure him into doing things he never like.

It was all so different with you.

You were one to stop him if you see he was about to do something he didn't feel comfortable with, if you noticed he was not in a good mood you would do things to make him feel better. You were his happiness on a grey day.

Now his grey days were just that, grey.

"I can't. I have to work."

She scuffs. "If I was Y/n, you would've call in sick."

He feels the shivers run down his spine. He can't lose his cool with her. He has to be patient and understand that she feels like the second girl in his life.

"That's not true, I can't miss this." He sighs, taking her hand. "I'll make it up to you." He smiles at her.

She just nods, cuddling into his arm. Pablo doesn't feel comfortable, he feels weird, why can't he feel the same way he did with you? That level of comfort.

He craves that.

When the movie is done Pablo feels lighter, he doesn't have to spend much time with Paula because she was going home. That bright up his mode.

"Do you want to order take out?" She asks.

"I shouldn't, I'm getting weighted soon." he pouts, looking at her.

"We can order some salads. I know a place that serves the best cesar, really healthy."

"It's getting late, maybe you should go home."

Pablo can tell that what he just said didn't sit right with her. Her eyes got glossy. But he can't be bothered by that. He doesn't react to that.

"I'll call you when I'm free." he stands up and walks to the kitchen to get some water.

He hears her closing the door. He then noticed a bad that was the exact one you have, in the same colour and everything. He then grab it, going after her.

He doesn't understand what happened, but his brain was in auto mode with the bag, thinking it was yours he calls your name.

Paula who was opening her car door, turns looking at him in disbelief. He called her by your name. He didn't even flinch or thought about it, he just said your name out loud.

"What did you just call me?"

Pablo then reacts, "Paula, sorry. Paula." he says her name twice to get it tru his head. "Your bag, you forgot it."

Paula snatch her bag out of his hands. "Don't ever call me by her name again, because last time I checked, I'm here and she's not. So stop it." she warns him.

That all it takes to make Pablo mad. He won't allow her to talk about you in that way, as if she knows you or knows anything about the relationship you two had.

"You are wrong there." he smiles.

"Qué?"

"Because you are not here, not anymore." he smirks. "I don't want to see you again. Block my number or something. I don't want you to talk about Y/n in any way. She might not be here right now, but to me, she's something you would never be. Important."

With that Pablo turns and closes the door of his home. Not having to worry about dealing with someone he doesn't want to see anymore.

"Mom, I don't feel good." you say, walking downstairs. "Can I stay here today?"

Your mom puts her hand on your forehead, feeling how warm you are. "I think it's best if we schedule a doctor's appointment."

Your dad calls for you, asking for an emergency appointment. You text your teacher that you will be absent and that you will turn in the doctor's note later.

"I'll go to the store and get some things for a soup, that would make you feel better." She says, kissing your hair. "I'll be right back."

While you feel like trash and curl in a ball on your couch. Pablo is searching for the ingredients Aurora requested him to take home. She was making him some food to celebrate his goals on the recent match.

He was texting everything he picked to his sister, trying to not make a mistake. He was looking at some spices when he saw your mom. He smile, he loves her, and she loves him.

He pokes her side, making her turn to see him. "Hola, mami." he jokes with her. He calls her mom from time to time. Always feeling like a part of the family.

"Pablito." She says happily. "Baby, how are you?"

"Been better." He pouts. Making her frown. "I miss you, I really do."

Your mom understands, she can't be mad at Pablo. To her, he was like a son. "Let's finish with our shopping and then we can go to the café down the street to talk, deal?"

He nods, happy that he can talk with someone he trust. He helps her finishing with picking her things. And she does the same for him. Pablo's demeanor changed, you can tell he's happy now. Not the sad puppy eyes he had when he first say hello.

He order for both your mom and himself, he knows her order since he was a kid. The usual for him. You know his mother's favorite things. Her favorite food, her favorite drink, the burger she would order. Everything.

"Want to tell me why you have those sad eyes?" She asks, hand over Pablos cheek. He melted into her touch, missing that motherly touch she has with him.

"I'm sure at this point you already know what happened between Y/n and me." he looks down. "I feel like my life is not the same since then."

She nods, understanding Pablo.

As much as she felt mad or angry with him when you told her the story. She can't be mad with him for long. Pablo was her other baby, and she knows he made a mistake.

"I know," She smiles. "But I need you to tell me your side of the story so I can understand you."

Pablo takes a deep breath, not sure on where to start. The party? The kiss? The other kiss? Where?

"My friends dared me to kiss someone named Paula, I said no, because I didn't wanted her to feel like I was interested. Then they told me to just kiss someone, and Y/n walked into the room. It was like a natural thing to think of her."

He won't keep anything inside, he wants someone to give him an honest point of view.

"We kissed, she asked me to take her home and I did. But-" he think for a second, not sure how to say to your mom > Hey, I kissed you daughter not once, but twice <

"But she kissed you again in the car." she finished the sentence for him, making him blush. "It's okay, don't keep anything."

"Then that happened, and I think after that the way I showed her affection was confusing for her. I didn't knew she had feelings for me. I think, I'm so used to being like that with her that I didn't think it enough."

"Do you have feelings for her?"

"I think I don't." he says, not sure of his own words. "I just think what we did after the kiss was something we always did. The hugs, the nicknames, the cuddling. It was all normal for us."

But was it?

"And when she found out I kissed her because of a dare. She confessed to me that she had feelings. I chicken out, I didn't wanted to lose my best friend. I didn't wanted to lose the only thing that was normal in my life." he sighs, eyes glossy at the feelings. "I regret hurting her like I did. I really do."

Your mom hugs him. Letting him feel the support he needed to feel. He needs to stop feeling guilty, he needs to stop thinking he's the bad guy of the story.

"Can I talk to her? I really need to do it. I want her back, my life it's not the same without her." he begs.

You mom smiles, noticing how all you two need is some serious guidance. You need you stop thinking like kids, and think a little more mature for situations like this.

"I don't think she's ready, Pablo." She shakes her head no. "She's not over the hurt feelings, and like that she won't talk with you. Let's wait a little more."

He nods, hugging her. He understand that you need your time. He can't be impulsive over your feelings like he was. You need to get over your grieve, and he will respect that.

You throw up again, feeling dizzy at how hot the room was. You don't have the energy to move back to bed. You want to call your mom, but your voice came as a whisper.

You lay down, trying to get the feeling of dizziness and the pain on your side. The bathroom floor is cold, making you feel a little better. You crawl back to your room, picking your phone from the nightstand and calling your father.

pablogavi

Liked by pedri, and 3,240,734 others

pablogavi ¡Estamos en la final! ¡Vamos @fcbarcelona ! 💙❤️

Your father was looking at his phone, waiting for you to wake up after your surgery. He was happy for Pablo and for the team. You all are Culers.

"Papi." You whisper, looking at him on the chair next to the hospital bed. "Where am I?"

"Hola, mi amor. You are in the hospital." he whispers too, combing your hair with his fingers. "You had an appendix emergency surgery."

You were still over the anesthesia, not fully understanding what was going on, and why were you there if you were just in pain. You just nod at him.

"Where's mom?"

"She's at home, taking a shower and grabbing some of your things, like your toothbrush and your hairbrush."

You just nod again. Feeling sleepy and tired, you touch gently your side, the covered wound making you shiver.

"Papi, where's Pablo?" you ask, confused on why isn't your friend there. "Can you call him? I want him here." you pout.

Your father looks at you with a frown, not understanding why you were asking to see Pablo when just a few nights ago you asked him to stop asking about him and the team.

"Are you sure you want me to call him?" he asks, just to make sure.

"Si." you whisper. "I want him here, please call him."

He search Pablo's number, dialing it and calling him. He walks out of the room to have a better voice to talk.

"Hello?"

"Pablo, son." he greets him. "Hope you are doing well."

"Hola, Sir." he greets. "I am, just got home from training, how are you? everything good?"

"Si, all good." he lies a little. "Just one small thing I need to ask you."

"Everything you want." he chuckles.

Your father sighs, not sure how to ask the guy you been trying not to talk to, to come visit you at the hospital.

"Y/n had a surgery, and she's fine!" he laughs, nervous. "And she asked me to call you, she says she wants you here."

Pablo got in alarm mode. Surgery? For what? Why?

"Si, please send me the address and I'll be there as soon as possible." He says, picking his sweater and his keys. Walking back into his car. "Do you need anything from your home? I can pick anything for you? Did you ate?"

Your father feels happy to hear the worried boy he missed. It was like a piece of normality for him. Something nobody asked, but he missed.

"No, Pablito. I'm fine. I ate." he smiles. "Just drive safe, please."

Pablo hangs up, trying not to press the gas and get there in no time. He has to drive safe and carefully as he promised your dad.

"Hey." He knocks on the door. "How is she?"

"She's fine." Your father says. "Come here, I missed you, kid."

Pablo hugs your father with a smile on his face. He missed his jokes, his fatherly advice, he missed going home and talking about football with someone. He missed feeling like having a father near him when his wasn't. He missed your family, he missed you.

They talk for a little, updating each other with their lives. Pablo felt a little piece of normality, it felt nice. It was like a few months ago. When he had you, when he had your family as his.

"I'll run real quick home, I need to get a quick shower and I'll be back." He says, patting Pablo's back. "My wife will be here before me."

He nods, telling him not to worry and to take his time. He was staying till they come back. He was staying until you told him not to. He needed you to see that he was there like you asked.

You were waking up, the anesthesia not as present as before. You can even feel your wound, not a very nice feeling.

You turn to see which parent was there with you. To your surprise, you see those brown locks you have memorized by heart. Pablo was doing something on his phone, not paying attention at you.

You want to call his attention, but you don't. You enjoy a few more minutes of his company. A few more breaths with his now more noticeable cologne.

You turn your face to him. His eyes found yours. "Hey, princesa."

"Hey." You whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"Your dad called me. He told me you had surgery."

"Oh, okay."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, sad eyes. "I'll understand if you want that."

You don't want to fight with him. You made peace with his decision, feeling better about the whole thing.

"Stay." You smile at him. "You didn't miss training, right?"

He shakes his head no, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"It hurts." You joke.

He laughs, shaking his head. "Bet it does." he keeps combing your hair. "I got so scared when your dad told me you were here. Even if it was just a simple thing."

"I'm okay, I'll live, that's what they say."

Pablo kisses your forehead, he can't think of a lifetime where you are not there for him. Even when you two are apart.

"I'm sorry I've been so distant." he says, hands caressing your face. "I miss you, you are one of the few people I care about in this life. I'm sorry I fucked up with what I said."

"Te quiero, mi princesa." he says, smiling at you. "Do you want to eat something or drink? I can ask the nurse to bring you your food."

"I'm okay, don't worry." You grab his hand. "But a little bit of water sounds amazing."

He calls the nurse, they checked you and changed the pad from your wound. He was looking at you the whole time. The was happy he was there with you, like the old times.

After that day, Pablo went every day after practice. He was taking care of you and helping you.

You were in the hospital for ten days after surgery, you since your appendix bursted, they needed to make sure you were okay.

"I'll be okay, don't worry. Go to work and bring me one lollipop." You say on the phone.

Your parents were busy with work, or so they say. They planned this so you and Pablo could talk when you get home.

You told them you wanted to talk with him. Stablish some things in order for your friendship to work again.

"Si, Pablo is here. We are leaving now, bye." You laugh, hanging up the phone at turning to where he is. "Dad says hi, and thank you for doing this."

Pablo was happy you accepted him back into your life. You had your conditions, yet to tell them to him.

The drive home was calm, you relax and smell the cologne he uses. He drove to Dunkin donuts, getting you something light as the doctor allowed you to have one drink. Nothing with milk or yogurt.

"Okay, careful with that step." he says, holding your waist as you walk upstairs to your room.

You sit on your bed, feeling happy that you are home and not at the hospital anymore. You feel more relaxed.

You see Pablo bring your things, you have to talk with him. You have to tell him your boundaries.

"Can you sit down with me. We need to talk."

He feels nervous. "Oh, okay." he sits on the edge. Looking at you in the eyes. "Tell me."

You sigh. "I know I said it was okay for you to stay, and I'm really thankful for your help these days." You ramble to him. "But I want us to change how we talk to each other. I don't mind some nicknames, but the hugs, the kisses and the way you threat me it's not going to work. Please, let's not do it."

He understands what you mean. He doesn't want to lose you, so he would work with your terms and conditions.

"Si, I'm fine with that." he smiles.

Pablo had to adapt to not calling you all the nicknames on the books. He just named you preciosa or your name.

He spent his afternoons with you. After training he would visit you with flowers, drinks.

To you it was like going back in time but with changes. You had someone to help you with your writing, someone who talks with you about everything and nothing.

You were able to start to go back to your life. You love working on coffee shops. It was more relaxing than working at the library or at home. The smell of coffee is amazing.

You work at the same coffee three times a week. Always finding some people you know and making conversation with them.

You were working while drinking matcha, you sent a snip of your work to Pablo. He was home, waiting for a call from the social media team.

"Y/n?" You hear. You turn to find Paula, she was smiling at you. "How are you? I heard you were at the hospital. Are you okay?"

You smile. You don't dislike Paula, but she's not your cup of tea. "Hola, I'm fine, just an appendicitis."

"Cool, nice to hear you are fine." she smiles. "Can I sit? We can chat."

Before you can say no, she takes a seat at the table. You close your laptop, not really feeling like talking.

She was telling you about her life. You don't really pay attention, you were lost in your own mind, just smiling and nodding.

"And I felt bad at first, I'm not going to lie." she sighs, drinking a little of her coffee. "But I'm not going to lie, I don't blame Pablo for having feeling for you. You are so beautiful, and you guys are perfect for each other."

You then pay attention. Looking at her, looking at her eyes, was she lying?

"I'm sorry, Pablo what?" You laugh, not understanding her.

"I mean, that's what all his friend say. I think he even told them that the last time he saw them." She say, frowning.

You feel nauseous, why would all his friends think that? Did he really told them that? Why now? Why after what he did to you?

"Paula, it's nice to see you." You smile, picking your things up. "But my mom is waiting for me, and I just realized that I'm late."

You wave her goodbye. Walking outside the coffee shop and rushing home. You need to talk to your mom.

"Mom!" You shout. "MAMÁ!"

"Uno!" You yell, smiling and doing a happy dance. "I won."

"You haven't, sit down." Pablo laughs.

You two finish playing your uno game and finishing the food you ordered. "I won so I pick the movie."

You grab the remote, searching for > How to lose a guy in 10 days < that was your favorite romcom.

Pablo seats next to you. Bringing the just made popcorn. You pull him by his shoulders, making him lay down on your chest while combing his hair.

You missed doing this, and even when you asked him not to do it. You wanted to do it just like the old times.

You loved the movie, you love Matthew, you love Kate, you love the dog. You loved the part of the dress.

"If I ever get married, I want that yellow dress for my party." You say, daydreaming with wearing that day. "But my husband better look at me like Matthew looks at Kate."

Pablo hears you talking, daydreaming of you. You would look so amazing on that dress. "I can get you that dress. Let me ask my manager to ask D&G for one."

You laugh. "That would be too much to ask." You mess up his hair. "I'll wait for my future husband to get it for me."

Pablo can't help but think about you on a wedding dress, how fucking amazing you would look with that yellow dress while dancing with him.

With him.

"Do you want kids?" He asks.

You think for a little bit. "Maybe two." You smile, kissing his head. "what about you?"

"Maybe two." He says, repeating your words.

"Our kids would be friends!" You say, happily. "Best friends, like mommy and daddy."

> They would be siblings < He thinks.

The movie finishes, you pick your the empty bowls and cups. Pablo observes your movements, still daydreaming about you.

He helps you clean, washing the dishes while you save the food that was left. You finish ordering the things in the refrigerator.

"I have to go home." You say, checking your phone. "Mom is moody and I don't want to deal with that."

He needs to do it.

Do it, Pablo!

"Can I talk to you?" he clears his throat. "It's really important."

You look at him. "Are you okay?" You ask, worried about his nervous state.

He takes a deep breath. "I need to tell you something. Let's get out off the kitchen."

You two walk to the living room, Pablo was taking deep breaths, eyes not able to find your from how nervous he was.

"Pablo, you are making me nervous." You say, grabbing his hands. "Are you okay? You know you can tell me anything." You encourage him.

He sighs, squishing your hands. "I know you allowed me to be back into your life, and you and I are now back with your conditions."

You frown, not understanding his rambling. "Are you not okay with our agreement?" You say, sad tone. "Wh-"

"No, it's not that, preciosa." he replies quickly. "I just, I need to confess something to you."

Your body tense, you think the worst. You think he would tell you that he doesn't want to keep with the friendship because he's not comfortable with the things you established.

"You can tell me anything." You smile.

"After the party." he began. You make a face because of the mention of the party. "I know I was really rude when I told you I liked Paula. The reality is that I don't think I ever liked Paula. I think she was just my confort answer in case the thoughts in my head and in my heart were wrong."

"Your heart? What?" You let go of his hands. You already know where this is going. "What are you talking about?"

"Y/n, I like you. I always felt that way. I was a stupid little kid who fell in love with his best friend. But then you had your boyfriends and I knew you didn't felt the same." he confess. "and I accept that, becuause-"

"You like me?" You say, feeling breathless.

"I love you." he whines.

"Then why did you rejected me when I told you I liked you." You question him.

"I was afraid." he shouts. "I was so afraid that we would fuck things up, and I didn't wanted to lose you." he tries to get close to you, but you back off. "I don't want to lose you."

You don't know how to organize your feelings, you feel everything at once. Betrayal, happiness, sadness. But this is the moment.

"Pablo." You say, eyes finding his shiny ones.

He smiles, he knows this is the time he was waiting for since he first felt those feelings at 10 years old.

"You already lost me."

✨✨✨

🏷️: @htpssgavi @rikfkf @gadriezmannsgirl @coco657 @cinderellawithashoe @pabl0andm3 @vscabarca @alexis1taylorr @anythingforourjoonie @nightmoon22

[hemlock-dreams]

I love MJ. Peter must have really been devastated by her being affected when he was outed as Spider-Man. I have a few questions! You mentioned in the original universe she had a relapse — was it just the same universe changes that made Peter a criminal that caused there to be an MJ that was an addict? Would the venom have caused her to die in a while like most people, or no because Peter became her supplier and had presumably good control? Wouldn’t she have known the reasons he had hesitated to kiss long eventually, since he had to tell her everything to help with the venom thing? And does his venom just… come out automatically after a bit with anything, or is it possible for him to have situations where it’s not involved at all for a time? I’m sure he misses her and usually MJ and Peter are friends before they get together in many canons, so I’m really happy that he’s able to be her friend in the new universe and didn’t lose her entirely 🥺 even if he basically had to reform the relationship from scratch. (Also if Peter and Marko were such good friends, why was he willing to put him and his loved ones in danger by telling everyone?) all of this is very cool and fun ty for sharing.

So OG-MJ was an addict before she ever knew Peter(and before everything with the knock off venom.) She had been sober for two years at that point, and continued to stay sober for a few years after she and Peter officially got together.

However, Peter was always gone, flaking on all their special dates/anniversaries etc. He'd make plans and then never show up, or cancel at the last minute. And despite being super affectionate with his words, was always really physically distant. All of this left MJ feeling really alone and angry, as she was dealing with her own abandonment issues (foster care).

Eventually, everything was just a perfect storm of frustration (struggling with her boss, Peter flaking on another date, a new job opportunity not coming through) that she ended up reconnecting with some old friends who convinced her to try 'this sick new upper'.

The issue with manufactured venom (gonna call it Aurora) is that in it's impurity, it had extremely degenerative effects at lower doses. Peter's venom, while just as bad, was 'cleaner'. He can secrete it at will, but his body starts automatically pumping it when he gets excited (not to mention his fangs do not retract!!!) (They are very sharp!!!)

As for Marko, he'd been Sandman for a while before he revealed Spiderman's identity. Not only was he mentally very unstable, but he'd been very bitter over Peter going 'straight'. They were supposed to be ride or die, but Peter kept drifting away and eventually cut ties with him when it was obvious that Marko was never going to leave the lifestyle.

Then one day, during a fight with Spiderman Marko just...recognized the body language, the words, just...something clicked, then broke. Because not only did Peter leave Marko, the guy who had his back all those years in prison, his supposed 'ride or die' was also fucking Spiderman. The guy who had been actively fucking up Marko's life for years. The enemy.

Payback was an easy decision for a guy who held tight to grudges.

And for the kicker, he didn't even sell the information, just gave it to JJ for free-- that's how much he wanted to hurt Peter. Later, he would really regret it, but it would be too late at that point.

After Marko threw Peter's life into the fire, he and MJ had a blowout fight. At the height of it, MJ told Peter to 'prove he loved her' and used her own addiction as a way to control his time and attention after being starved for so long (kind of holding herself hostage).

Yeah...it all kind of went to real shit after Lmaoo

Once again, thank you SO much for the support and all these amazing asks!! <3 <3

[ghxstwrites]

You're Mine

Pairing: Ghostface!Hongjoong x Female Reader, Brief Seonghwa x Reader, Brief San x Reader.

Summary: Hongjoong was in love with you and he’d kill to have a chance with you. 

WC: 2.4K

AU: Non-Idol! Hongjoong, brief College! AU

Genre: Horror, Smut

Warning(s): Smut! MDNI; use of Knives/knife kink, Mask Kink, Degradation and Praise, Yandere!Hongjoong, name calling, unprotected sex (yes, just as scary, wrap it!), pet names (baby, doll), name calling, swearing, talks of crime scenes/bodies - no graphic descriptions

A/N: Happy Halloween, Loves! I couldn't think of a better way to finish the season than with captain himself. Thank you to my beta readers @bunnliix and @potatomountain for helping me out here!

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Tag List: @bethelighthalazia @a---shura @kpop---scenarios @autieofthevalley @rems-writing @skzdust (send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

The wind picked up as you walked through the neighborhood, Halloween was only a few days away and you could definitely tell. 

The carved pumpkins on everyone's doorsteps, the goofy inflatables and plastic props sticking out of lawns, and the multicolored leaves on the ground that crunch under your feet as you walk down the street. You were on the way to your friend's house as you were bringing supplies for a party that was meant to happen at his apartment over the weekend. 

Knocking on his door, you didn’t get a response, you opted to shoot him a text.

“Hey loser, you said you were home, where are you?” you sent the message to him not long after the door swings open and he’s drying off his hair.

 “Sorry, I had to take a shower - I just got back from the gym and I was uh.. pretty gross,” he admits to you. You roll your eyes and brush past him sitting the bags on his kitchen island. 

“Of everyone,” you paused looking up at your friend, “Why did you opt to host the party Joong?” You chuckle as he approaches you. “You don't really seem like the type to go to parties, plus we need some decorations, Man!” 

He laughs as he tosses the towel to the side “I don’t go to parties, plus this is just a few people - i’ll manage,” he smirks as he leans against the counter. 

It was Friday night, all of your friends pile into Hongjoong’s apartment, some of the guys had started to to drink and make unholy liquor concoctions as you try to set up the snacks for the night and  just as the last attendee comes in Hongjoong walks out of his room pulling a shirt over his head.

“Wait, Where’s Seonghwa?” one of the others perked up. 

“He’s usually never late,” you add, looking defeated, you had been hoping to catch him here because in the days leading up to the party the two of you had been exchanging flirtatious glances and witty comments. Maybe you’d even get lucky when no one was looking. 

“Maybe he got caught up at work or something,” Hongjoong shrugs, not paying too much mind to the situation as he flops down on the couch setting up the movies for the night. “Scream marathon anyone?” He looks over at the group of his friends. 

“I don’t really do scary movies, Joong…,” you say softly, before he has the chance to respond, San smiles at you. 

“You can cling on to me as you need to, I’ll protect you,” he says confidently with a smirk. 

Hongjoong could feel his blood boil, who did these guys think they were? You were his and he wasn't going to fight anyone for you, but on the outside he remained expressionless, huffing out a response he turned back to the TV pressing play on the movie.  

After a few drinks, you settled back into San’s touch, his broad shoulders providing a comfortable back board to rest against. Across the room, Hongjoong settles into his spot on the sofa as he steals glances at you and San, his blood presure rising with each passing moment he sighs to himself, “Who gives a fuck about these movies,” he mutters under his breath as he gets up to go pour himself yet another drink. 

He’d had an alternative to his party, getting you all to himself. He’d spent months pinning over you, doing anything he could to get you close to him, so when your sights got set on Seonghwa he felt betrayed, crushed, and even used. Hongjoong knew there was only one solution, after all - Seonghwa was the campus nerd, who would really miss him if that meant Hongjoong had what he wanted, no, needed. You. 

San excuses himself so he can get some fresh air and attempt to sober up, he makes his way outside. Just as San slips out of the back door Hongjoong follows him. 

“Oh hey man, i did-,” San doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence Hongjoong swings, punching San in his face. “What the fuck man?!” he yells out covering his nose 

“Listen here bastard,” Hongjoong grits out “Anyone who flirts with Y/N… they go missing” Hongjoong locks eyes with the younger man. “Why do you think Seonghwa isn’t here?” He smiles wickedly, “She’s mine.”

It’d been about 45 minutes, San nowhere in sight, and now that you think about it - Where did Hongjoong go? Your eyelids were growing heavy so you tried to pay no mind to it until you heard Wooyoung gasp as he reached to pause the movie. 

“Fucking, Seonghwa’s dead?!” He screeches out  looking at his phone. You immediately shot up off the couch as silence fell over the friend group as they all focused their attention on him, he tapped on the news article.

“The victim was found this afternoon near his college dorm, police later identifying him as Park Seong-Hwa, a 26 year old college student, the police have not pinpointed a suspect at this time, all that was left behind at the crime scene was a note saying ‘Don’t blame the movies.’ Investigators believe the suspect could be a ‘copycat’ killer of the popular character ‘Ghostface’  from the Scream franchise, More updates as they are released.”

“I… I’m gonna step outside,” you whisper, you needed a mental breather, this was a lot to take in so you picked up your drink, making your way out to the back yard. Just as you step off to the side of the house you hear rustling, Looking up you first see San’s white t shirt, now stained your eyes naturally following the figure leaned over him which caused you to freeze, it was the man you’d just read about - a man dressed as ghostface, holding a knife and you couldn’t bring yourself to scream. 

“What's the matter y/n?.. You look like you’ve seen a Ghost.” the masked figure lulls back at you. 

“H-Hongjoong?.. Is that.. No, no no no,” you stammer out backing up from him but before you have the option to run he reaches out, grabbing you by shirt, pulling you to him, you stare back at him - rather the mesh covering his eyes - as your breathing picks up. 

“Don’t you dare scream, understand me?” he tuts at you. All you can seem to do is nod at him. 

Behind his mask all he can do is smirk “This is your fault baby, If you hadn’t been such a shameless slut, your friends would still be alive wouldn’t they?” He laughs spinning you around so your back now faces him as he brings the blood covered kitchen knife up to your throat, causing you to swallow thickly. “Y/n.. You’re gonna get your ass back in that house and pretend like you saw nothing, and maybe if for a change you’re a good girl..,” he coos, “You’ll get to live, yeah?” you nod softly.

You walk back into the house, by this point you realize everyone left, after getting the unsettling news regarding Seonghwa it puts a damper on the evening's festivities. You look around the living room noticing the absence of your friends, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slumping over the back of the couch as tears fall down your face, you are terrified and upset. You couldn’t help it, through your sobs you fail to notice the door opening behind you.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos at you, causing you to jump. 

“Joong please…This isn’t you.. Is it the stupid fucking movies?” you hiss at him. 

He smiles wickedly at you, “Baby..,” he walks up to you, holding onto your hips firmly, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Those movies didn’t create me, they only gave me more creative ideas,” he smirks. 

You stare back at him, San’s blood now dried on his face, now serving as a lingering memory of him. Hongjoong sees this, taking the tip of the knife, gently bringing your attention back to him, careful not to break skin. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” he smirks, “He doesnt matter anymore, you’re mine - understood?” He can smell the fear as your tear-filled eyes stare back, the words caught in your throat. 

“O-okay..,” you squeak out. 

A sadistic smile spreads across his face as he lets you go, causing you to fall back onto the couch. “You know baby, you look so pretty like this…,” His knife runs down your clothed body, stopping at the top of your pants. 

“You look terrified but you’re probably so fucking wet..,“ he chuckles out, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, this was a new side of him and you weren’t sure what it was but everytime his knife ghosted your skin, you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

“Hongjoong… Why.. what did they do..,” you choke out, maintaining eye contact with his masked face. 

“They got too close to what was rightfully mine,” He says sternly “and I can’t share you baby,” he smirks as one hand grips your waist as the other finds the button to your jeans 

“Won't you be mine, Doll?” his face leans closer to yours, “you’ll never have to worry again,” he coos in your ear as you feel the button pop on your pants. “Because anyone who gets near you.. I’ll make them disappear.” he spits as his hand finds the wet spot on your underwear. “Seems I'm right… shameless fucking whore…” he snarls. 

Your body seemingly betrays you as you moan out, arching into his touch, “H-Hongjoong, What are you doing?” You look up at the masked man. You get no response and he hurriedly removes your jeans, tossing them to the side. 

“This entire time you’ve been sitting here, putting on a show for me, when in reality you like this..,” His knife grazes your clothed pussy causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“Joongie… please,” you squirm under his gaze. 

“A pussy so pretty I should mark my initials on it.. Let everyone know you belong only to me,” He punctuated as he used his blade to cut through the thin material of your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you as your underwear fell to the side leaving you exposed, his words only fueling your desire more. 

Hongjoong drops to his knees in front of you removing the now useless fabric as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, making you squirm. He gives no warning before he latches onto your sensitive nub, causing you to arch into him immediately. He works his tongue expertly as you writhe beneath him, his arms coming up to wrap around your thighs in an attempt to make you stay still.

“J-Joong - ah fuck - feels so good,” you breathe out as your hand tangles in his hair. He smirks against your dripping cunt. 

“That’s it Doll, lose yourself in me…,” he lulls out as he slips two fingers into you as he scissors you open with his fingers, you feel a heat building in your stomach, and he can tell by the way you flutter around his fingers. His tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you closer and closer and just as that band in your stomach is about to snap you feel him pull his fingers out and release your cunt with a soft pop.

“Fu-Fuck, Joong! No!” you whine out at him. 

“Shh… I’d never leave my baby unsatisfied…,” he chuckles at you, standing back up he pulls you up to eye level with him. “There you are…,” he coos, resting a hand on your cheek before it moves to find purchase in your hair, his grip tightening to an almost painful level as he uses his grip to pull you with him as he sits down on the couch, dragging you down to straddle his lap. 

“This is better, hmm?” His voice sounds almost condescending as he rolls his hips against yours as you whimper. “Hongjoong…pl-please.” 

“Oh doll… I know you can do better than that.” you can hear the way his voice is coated in pleasure. 

“Please, I need you so bad.. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” you plead with the man, as he grabs the mask he left on the table behind you, slipping it on.

He smirks, making quick work of his pants as he pulls out his aching cock, shuddering at the friction. ”F-fuck doll, you don’t know what you’ve done to me.” he huffs out as he thrust into you causing you both to moan out, you sit there allowing both of you to gather yourselves. You start to rock your hips back and forth as small whimpers leave your mouth, driving him insane. He reached back around, grabbing at your hair and yanking it forcing your head back as a low moan escaped you.  He looked up at you with hungry eyes, watching the faces you made. “That's my doll, look at you, making such pretty noises for me - ah-  not gonna last like this,” he cries out, his hand sneaks between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing it in small circles causing you to cry out. 

“That’s it doll… I’ve got you,” He coos as his thrust picks up speed to match his fingers as that band in your belly starts to form again. “Show me how much you love what I do to you, how much I have done for you…,” he growls at you, causing that band to snap, you cry out his name as you clench around him. At the same time his release coats your velvet walls as he throws his head back, he holds you in place as you both ride out your highs together. 

As the fog in your brain clears, you look back at the masked man, you reach up, slowly taking it off him. He’s already staring back at you which causes you to flinch slightly, causing him to smile. He reaches up, moving strands of hair out of your face. 

“No one else makes me feel this way,” he says softly, “you could rip my heart out of my chest and I’d still adore you,” you stare back at him, the Hongjoong you knew slipping back into your grasp. You reached up to caress his face, smiling softly.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“I’m yours..,” you respond softly

“You’re mine.”

[skzdust]

Your Boyfriend, Yeosang

This is smut. MINORS DNI.

This is softer than my usual stuff! Also first time writing Yeosang!!! Request from @tinystrawberrydragon, thank you for the request I hope you like it!!

Summary: You go to your roommate and best friend Yeosang's room seeking some comfort. You find sex and a new relationship.

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x afab reader

Includes: best friends to lovers, college au, roommate au, kissing, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, pleeeease use a condom guys like for real, nipple play

Word count: 1.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

You’d had a crush on Kang Yeosang since you’d met him in freshman year. He’d been your roommate’s boyfriend’s roommate, and while that relationship had not lasted, you and Yeosang had formed a best friendship that had only strengthened throughout college. Now, you were in your final year of school.

You figured living with him would help to squash the little flutter in your chest whenever he smiled at you across the table, or when you were studying and he praised you for getting a flash card right, or any of the other million things you loved about Yeosang.

In fact, the opposite was the case. Yeosang was too damn lovable.

Tonight, though, you weren’t thinking about Yeosang. You were stressed out of your mind, with two exams looming the next day. You knew Yeosang could tell, he’d invited you to come to him with anything you needed, but you had determined you’d deal with the studying yourself.

You rubbed your eyes, the words swimming on the page in front of you. You weren’t going to be able to absorb any more physics tonight if you tried.

Suddenly, tears began to sting at the corners of your vision. It was too much, it was overwhelming. This exam was going to be a nightmare. And you hadn’t even started on the other one yet!

Before you knew what you were doing, you were walking down the hall and knocking on Yeosang’s door.

“Coming.” You heard, and he opened the door a moment later. Only his nightstand lamp was on, and his hair was messy, like he’d been in bed. He was wearing grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and his muscular chest was on full display. No shirt to be seen.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Oh, no, what’s wrong?” Yeosang hummed, seeing your red eyes and taking your hands. “Here, come on, let’s cuddle and talk about it.”

You followed him to his bed, climbing in and adjusting so he was spooning you.

He’d done it a thousand times before. So why did you feel so tense?

Yeosang picked up on it, too. “You’re all tensed up. What’s up?”

“I just have these exams tomorrow.” You sighed. “And I’m stressed as hell for them.”

“That’s not all it is.” He murmured, hugging you closer. “I know you better than that.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just… I dunno.” You stopped yourself before a full confession came spilling out.

Yeosang didn’t press the matter, but his thumb began to stroke back and forth across your arm. “Beautiful girl. I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.”

You shivered, almost involuntarily. “Beautiful girl?” You repeated in a whisper.

“Mhm.” He hummed. “Gorgeous. It’s a shame no one’s snatched you up yet.”

“What do you mean, Yeosang?”

He stiffened, seeming to realize what he’d just said. “I just— I mean— you’re my best friend, and I want to see you happy in a relationship.”

Your heart fell.

“But…” He took a breath. “But you’re stressed, and I can think of one very effective way to get rid of stress.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Well, I dunno, you haven’t had a partner in a while, and I can imagine you might be feeling a bit, ah, repressed—”

“Kang Yeosang!” You wriggled around in his arms until you were nose to nose. “You do not want to fuck me.”

He swallowed. “I… um… I do want to fuck you, is the thing.”

In response to that, you pushed your lips to his. He made a startled noise, but it turned into a moan as his hands held you closer and he kissed you back.

“Let me make you feel good.” He whispered, pulling back.

You whimpered. “By all means.”

He snickered, but one hand found its way to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple. “Is my beautiful girl sensitive?”

“Mhm.” You arched your back into his touch, pushing your hips into him. He inhaled, and you could feel his hardness against your thigh. Your head spun. You hadn’t imagined this happening when you’d come to him for comfort earlier, but you weren’t complaining. This was all you had wanted for far too long.

“I wanna be inside you so bad.” He groaned.

“Then do it.” You kissed him again, hard. His other hand found your other nipple, and he rubbed at both as he drifted down from your mouth to your neck. You fumbled to get your shirt off, and he began to suck deep hickeys into your skin. You moaned loudly, the thought of being marked up as intoxicating as the pain. Your friends would see it tomorrow, would make little joking comments about it. You’d be his.

Yeosang kissed one of the marks. “You look so good.”

“Thanks, now get inside me.” You breathed. “Um, please.”

He laughed, his genuine Yeosang laugh that you were in love with. “I will, I will.”

You watched with wide eyes as he began to work his sweatpants and boxers off. He was already hard, and he was big.

“Damn.” You whispered.

“Gonna inflate my ego.” He laughed again, but his face fell slack as you wrapped a hand around him and stroked him once, experimentally. “So good, y/n.”

The use of your name felt like a shock. It was you he was fucking. You. It was you he wanted to fuck.

“Everything okay?” He opened his eyes, noticing your hesitation.

“Yes, yes.” You rushed to say. “I just… can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“Should we… talk about this?”

“I mean… my hand is kind of around your cock right now. Do you want to talk about this now, or after we’ve both come?”

“My dick says after we’ve both come, but my brain…” Yeosang laughed. “My brain says probably we should before we do anything.”

Your stomach jumped, but you were in too deep to lie to him now. “I wanna be yours, Yeosang. Whatever that means to you.”

“I’m already yours, y/n.” He whispered. “I’m like… embarrassingly into you.”

You smiled. “I don’t think it’s embarrassing if it’s reciprocal.”

“So it is… reciprocal?”

“Yeah… I thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Good.” He beamed.

You gave him another long stroke, and his eyes rolled back with a moan. It was the sexiest thing you might ever have seen.

 “Y/n… can I fuck you?”

“I already said please once, don’t make me beg again.”

Yeosang unzipped your jeans. “I do want to hear that… maybe another time.”

You nodded, the prospect of another time getting you even hotter. “Another time.”

He finished working your pants off, and a couple of his fingers slipped between your lips to stroke up and down your wetness. You moaned at the sensation, and then moaned again because it was Yeosang.

“Is— is that good?” He whispered.

“Yeah, it’s really good.”

“Okay… um, good.”

You laughed softly. “Yeosang, you can— oh, God.”

He began to circle your clit with one finger. Yeosang was better at touching you than anyone else had ever been. He’d known you so long. You hadn’t done this before, but it felt natural. It felt good.

He kissed you hard, licking into your mouth, his finger still working at your clit. You moaned.

“Beautiful girl,” He groaned into your mouth. “My beautiful y/n.”

Something about him saying your name undid you. You came, your legs shaking, moaning. Pleasure arced through your body, and you felt tingly as you came down from your high to see Yeosang looking at you with the most affection you’d ever seen on his face.

“Did you just—”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes. “God, that’s embarrassing, that’s the fastest I’ve—”

“That was not embarrassing.” Yeosang’s other hand came up to cup your cheek. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Your voice was small.

“Yeah.”

“Can you fuck me now?”

“Fuck, yeah, I can.” Yeosang maneuvered you so you were on your back beneath him. He brushed some hair back from your face, his own dark hair falling in his eyes. “Good?”

“So good.” You smiled.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“God, me neither.” You whimpered.

He lined himself up with your entrance. “Okay, um, can I—”

“Yes, please.”

He slowly began to push inside you. A low, obscene moan fell from your lips as he stretched you open. He was so big, and you could feel every inch of him.

He paused. “Is that good?”

“Yes.” You panted. “Yes, Yeosang, keep going.”

He kept going, slowly pushing inside until he was fully seated inside you. “Fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good, you’re so… you’re so tight around me.”

“You feel good, too.” You moaned. You were so full. He looked at you affectionately, but his eyelids were heavy, and you could tell he wanted to fuck you. “Please fuck me.”

“I can do that.” He exhaled, and he began to move.

He hit just the right spots inside you as he started to fuck you, at first gently, then in earnest, punching the breath out of your lungs with every thrust. He groaned at each push in and out.

You couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan as he fucked you. He was good at this, and you felt so lucky to be under him, your best friend. Yeosang.

He groaned. “Y/n, I’m close, I want to— I want to—”

“Cum inside.” You moaned.

“But I’m not—”

“I have an IUD.” You looked into his eyes. “Yeosang, cum inside.”

His hips stuttered. “Fuck, y/n— y/n—” He moaned, pushing deep inside you. You felt warm as he came, and you reached your second orgasm a moment later, your hips bucking up into him.

You both breathed heavily for a moment, and Yeosang fell onto his side next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“Yeosang… you’re good at that.” You breathed a laugh.

“You feel so fucking good.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, cuddling into him.

“So… are we dating?”

“If you want to.”

“I want to.” You replied immediately.

“Then I’m your boyfriend.” He kissed your forehead again.

“My boyfriend, Yeosang.”

“My girlfriend, y/n.”