#unlucky x black cat

[choose-wiselyyy]

just some people :D

[dreaming-medium]

Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

———

A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

—————————————————————————

Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

[fgumi]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ THE BETTER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; jungwon x reader, GENRE; fluff, one shot, WC; 2.3k, A/N; i almost scrapped this... i hope it's as cutie as i tried to make it... special shoutout to @hoonieyun because i finished this with her encouragement. also! tysm for 500+ followers! you guys are so kind. ilysm. }

what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

the answer seems obvious enough.

someone as kind and pure as jungwon deserved someone just as sweet. someone who smiled as brightly as he did, whose eyes sparkled like his did–someone that radiated the same loveable energy that attracts everyone to him.

but, in reality? you, as jungwon’s current (and first) girlfriend, were sort of a far cry from jungwon.

you weren’t cruel by any means, but you were blunt. you hated sugarcoating words and definitely didn’t go out of your way to make people feel comfortable. if people asked for your input, they should be expecting your straightforward, honest answers—not your fault if they didn’t like it.

if people compared jungwon to ragdoll cat—likeable, friendly, and cute—they’d probably say you’re like the black cat that’s historically considered unlucky and an omen. but, somehow, you two worked.

of course, people were always questioning your relationship.

when you two worked at the same cafe during your college years, there was a clear difference in how you treated customers. you weren’t particularly rude, just not cheerful like jungwon.

“i have two iced lattes for kiki!” jungwon happily shouted, pushing the two drinks out. the girl who picked up her shyly smiled at jungwon, only wavering when she noticed your dead stare at her. after that, she hurriedly away to her friend. you watched as they both giggled and glanced at jungwon wiping down the espresso machines.

“you’re too friendly,” you sipped your drink, glaring at the bashful girls.

jungwon smiled and turned to you with a teasing look. “it’s why i make more tips than you.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back on the counter. jungwon placed himself next to you after throwing the rag in the bucket.

“you seem grumpier than usual,” jungwon poked at your side. “anything i can do to make it better?”

“be less cute,” you muttered, words slightly disappearing in your drink.

jungwon laughed before peaking his head into your view. you immediately softened at his pretty face.

“if i were any less cute, you wouldn’t put up with me.”

you snorted as you chucked your empty cup into the bin. you busied yourself, organizing the misplaced powders and syrup bottles. jungwon followed a step behind you, weaving from either side of you to get your attention. when he stuck his face too close to yours, you pushed him away before glancing around you.

“we’re at work,” you whispered.

jungwon shrugged. “it’s not like the boss doesn’t know. i told him that i applied because of you.”

before you could reply, the same girl—kiki—came up to the counter. you stepped forward.

“what’s up?”

she frowned ever so slightly before clearing her throat. “do you think i could talk to the other barista?”

you raised your eyebrow. “i could help you just as much as he can.”

her lips formed a straight line before jungwon cut in. “how can i help you?”

you resisted letting your eyes roll for the nth time, returning to organizing the counter.

“i was wondering if you were free after your shift?”

you barely managed to disguise your laugh as a cough. jungwon pouted at you before looking back at her. “i’m actually getting lunch with my girlfriend! she’s been wanting to try this new brunch place and i promised to take her.”

the girl blinked, disappoint clear on her face. “oh. i hope you enjoy your lunch then.”

before you could move further away, jungwon pulled you into his side with a bright smile. “we will!”

disappoint made way for shock, her eyebrows raised. she didn’t say anything more, returning to her friend who excitedly awaited for news. you could see them exchange words before glancing back at you and jungwon, who was still holding onto you. you pushed yourself free and flicked his forehead.

jungwon winced at the twinge of pain and rubbed the spot. “hey! you’d think you’d be proud of me for mentioning you within 10 seconds of the conversation.”

“i told you we’re at work,” you lightly scolded. “do you want to get us fired?”

“the boss would never fire me,” jungwon cheekily said.

you knew it was true, so you just declined to respond. you made your way around the counter, choosing to clear dirty dishes and wipe down tables. jungwon shook his head smiling and finished up the work you left behind.

“that’s his girlfriend? no way. she’s like– a bitch.”

your ears twitched. you’re used to this unfortunately. from strangers to friends to family, everyone couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as jungwon would be with someone like you—someone a little mean (though, you resent that because you’d like to think you’re nice to people… you like).

“right? i don’t get it. she looked like she was ready to rip my head off for just ordering. like—sorry for making you do your job.”

“he deserves so much better.”

you agreed. not that you’d ever voice that to jungwon again. you say again because, in the early stages of your relationship, jungwon made it very clear that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thought—you were the better everyone wanted for him. you didn’t really see it but, after seeing how upset he’d get during those conversations, you stopped bringing it up.

you clenched your jaw, fingers gripping the dirty dishes, as you walked to the back. when you returned to the front, jungwon stopped you with a small smile and covered your ears. you frowned in confusion.

“don’t listen to them,” jungwon murmured, removing his hands for your ears to tuck the stray hairs behind your ear. “you’re exactly who i want to be with for the rest of my life.”

a blush burned your cheeks. maybe, just this once, you will ignore what others are saying.

it didn’t stop there though. those types of comments followed you into your adult life.

you made quite the reputation for yourself in your office. you were ambitious from the start and managed to make your way into a team leader position pretty early on in your career. but, it didn’t come without some office rumors about your character.

y/n’s harsh. she’s so cruel. i heard she blackmailed the manager for her position. y/n will rip you apart for any minor mistakes. interns, beware. the list goes on. you felt like they were unwarranted. what else did they expect in a high-profile company? your clients expected quality work that was free of mistakes. of course you were going to point out flaws. again, was your delivery cushy and sweet? no. but, they shouldn’t expect criticisms wrapped in pretty words.

their… opinions weren’t limited to work though. when jungwon stopped by your office to pick you up for lunch, they had plenty to say.

“hey,” he greeted cheerfully, stepping into the room with that effortless charm that drew everyone’s attention. your coworkers peered from their desks curiously, wondering how you interact with this stranger.

you glanced up from your desk, surprised to see him. “what are you doing here?”

“i finished all my errands early and thought i’d take you out to lunch,” he said, tilting his head cutely. “i can wait for you to finish up!”

you nodded, glancing at the papers on your desk. “give me 15 minutes.”

he gave you a thumbs up before softly whistling, looking around the office. jungwon walked over to the wall of excellent employees and grinned at your pictures hanging. he glanced at your coworkers, some having returned to their work. curious, he peaked over one of their shoulders. they jumped a little after noticing his presence.

he smiled sheepishly. “sorry.”

within minutes, he has the whole office laughing with him. when you finished reviewing the last proposition, you were met with the sight. you smiled softly. jungwon never failed to impress you with his ability to charm people.

you got up from your desk and walked over. “hey, i’m ready if you are.”

your coworkers’ laughs died down at your presence, a couple creeping back to their desks.

“i was just telling them about the first time we met!” jungwon laughed.

your eyebrow quirked. “when you fell into the fountain?”

he nodded as he reached to carry your bag. “still hard to believe you agreed to go on a date with me after that.”

you could practically hear the gears turning in your coworkers’ heads as they processed his words.

“you’re her boyfriend?” one asked.

jungwon grinned, clutching the straps of your bag. “yup! i’m a lucky man.”

“i think she’s the lucky one,” someone muttered under their breath.

you sighed and pulled jungwon towards the elevator, choosing to ignore their comment to go get lunch faster. jungwon waved goodbye as you entered the elevator.

before the elevators fully closed, you could make out someone saying, “someone as terrible as her with someone as kind as hi–”

you shut your eyes, performing breathing exercises you learned at the company’s mental health seminar. you could feel jungwon pull you into his arms before he peppered kisses all over your face. his attacks didn’t stop until you were giggling from how his kisses tickled.

“they don’t know anything,” he said, planting a final kiss on your lips. “they don’t know about how my girlfriend is the kindest person al–”

you covered his mouth before you exited the elevator. “not so loud. can’t have people knowing i’m a softie.”

jungwon kissed the palm of your hand, clasping it with his own as you walked out of the building. after years of being with jungwon, his pro-y/n propaganda got through to you, much to his delight.

but, even after all those years, jungwon’s friends still didn’t understand your dynamic.

“okay, real talk,” jake said during a game night at your apartment, gesturing between the two of you. “how do you two even work?”

“what do you mean?” jungwon asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“dude, you’re like the nicest guy i know—i’m talking nicer than the grandmas that feed pigeons—and y/n is…” jake trailed off, glancing at you nervously.

“go on. say it,” you droned with no real heat, crossing your arms.

“intimidating? but, you know, in a cool, really chic way,” jake said quickly.

jungwon laughed and wrapped his arms around you. “it works because she likes me just the way i am. a nice loser that is way too nice sometimes.”

sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “blink three times if you’re scared.”

jungwon puffed his cheeks in annoyance. “she’s not scary, man. she’s the sweetest, shyest, prettiest, most lovable–”

you covered his mouth, your face burning in embarrassment. “that’s enough.”

jungwon pulled away from your hand with the biggest grin. “see?”

jake snorted and nudged sunghoon. “maybe jungwon’s the one scaring her.”

you all laughed and, tactfully, they never questioned you guys again.

sometimes, though, it still bothered you. why was jungwon—someone who was sunshine-incarnate—with you–grumpy in female form?

one night, as the two of you cleaned up after a dinner party, you asked him directly.

“why do you put up with it?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

jungwon looked up the dishes, bubbles somehow making their way onto his hair. “put up with what?”

“all the comments,” you said, rearranging the centerpiece. “the questions. people saying you could do better…”

he frowned and shut off the water, shaking off the gloves. “do you still think there’s better than you?”

you hesitated, caught off guard by his sincere stare. “it crosses my mind from time to time?”

jungwon shook his head, stepping towards you and pulling your hands into his. “there isn’t,” he said firmly. “there’s no one in this world better for me than you.”

you tried to pull away, feeling ashamed for feeling this way after all these years, but he held on.

“i like that you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,” he continued. “i like that you’re honest, even when the truth is hard to hear. and i like that you don’t care about flattering others, because it means even more when you do compliment people.”

your chest tightened, his words sinking into the cracks you tried so hard to hide.

“i also like that you don’t care if people know how truly kind you are, because i know. i see it every day. i see it in the way you prepare my morning coffee, even though you’re the one that has to go to work. i see it in the way you put yourself in between the street and grandmas, in case something happens. i see it in the way you keep working after everyone’s clocked out to make sure your proposition doesn’t get rejected. i see it. i see you.”

at this point, tears blurred your vision. “but, you can do so much better,” you muttered, blinking the tears away.

“you are that better. you make me wanna be better,” he said with a grin, pulling you into a hug. “it’s okay if the world keeps talking. it gives me an excuse to fire back and talk about my super cool girlfriend.”

a laugh escaped you as you rubbed your face into his chest, a smile creeping onto your face. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you love me for it.”

you really did. you loved him so much. but, according to jungwon, probably not as much as he loved you.

so, what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

someone who challenged him to be better. someone who didn’t sugarcoat things, who kept him grounded. someone who loved him so fiercely, even if they didn’t think they should be the one receiving his love. where others saw questions, he saw answers. you were it for him. and, hopefully, the ring sitting in his desk drawer was enough to prove it to you.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! come chat! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @en-dream @heeheesang @bamguetismee @httpenhoon @r1kification

[monamipencil]

── 𝗠𝗥. 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗥𝗦. 𝗬𝗢𝗢𝗡 ft. jeonghan

��synopsis; an intrusion, a couple, a murder and a twist. — second fic of lola's spooktober

⛧ pairings; husband! jeonghan x fem! reader ⛧ genre; smut, gore, horror ⛧ w.c; 4.1k+ ⛧ warnings; hybristophilia, body worship, blood, murder/death, description of corpse, sex on the dining table lmao, HORNY fucking, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving) creampie, allusions to cults, devil worship, etc etc. mentions of food ⛧ a/n; *clears thorat* *coughs* im so sorry for the delay lmao, i was absolutely not motivated to write. but anyways, enjoy!!

READ AT YOUR OWN CAUTION ⛧ MDNI

[ 07th October, 2024 ]

Thunder crackles, and lightning strikes. The heavy rain pitter-patters on the windows and roofs. Water flows, flooding the streets, making them inhabitable to unlucky strays. Chaos brews outside, and you observe it from within the safety of your home. 

A ‘meow’ shifts your attention. You smile at the cat you rescued from the storm and rub its head. It meows again and shuffles to the living room, black fur disappearing behind the couch. 

“-And everyone is requested to stay at home or take shelter till further notifications. Police’s investigation into the recent murders have been halted due to the storm. We request everyone to stay sa—”

The television cuts off and comes alive again, buzzing and glitching.  You turn it off with a sigh. Except for the pitter-patter of the rain, your home is silent. The silence lays heavy on the walls and floors. You can’t seem to fill it no matter what. Your hand involuntarily touches the pendant your husband gifted you. Muttering a prayer to Him, you ask for Jeonghan's safe return to you. 

[ ... ]

The gentle sizzle of the vegetables fills your ears, and you pour water into the vessel, turning down the flame. 

Your newly adopted cat nuzzles between your legs, purring with content at the warmth. You smile and coo at it. But before you can adore it further, the doorbell rings.

You wipe your hands, contemplating whether or not to attend it. It couldn't be Jeonghan. You sigh and walk to the door. The black furball stays in the kitchen, observing you with its yellow eyes.

Looking through the peephole, you see someone shivering from the cold and absolutely drenched. Your hands fly to unlock the door, and the person is startled at the force you open it.

“Come in, please!” you move from his way. He nods his head with gratitude and walks in weakly.

Quickly shutting the door, you lock it. The stranger turns to see you secure the array of locks on the door. You greet him with a smile. He smiles back.

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” he apologizes, but you assure him and welcome him into your home. “Oh no, It's fine. I don't mind some company.”

He removes his drenched coat and hangs it on the coat hanger. While doing so, he notices another coat on it. “Is it just you at home, miss?”

“Mrs.” You correct him and reply, “Yes, my husband is out of town for business.”

He also removes his shoes and places them near the door, noticing another pair of shoes. “May I ask you why you are out in such a storm?”

“Ah, I turned up for work and my friend who was supposed to pick me didn't turn up.”

You give him an apologetic nod and gesture towards your living room. “Please make yourself at home. I'll quickly put together a warm soup for you.”

He tries to protest, but you reason with him and disappear into the kitchen. He sits on the sofa with a sigh and thanks God for helping him at the right time.

The low purr of a cat catches his attention. A black cat sits in the middle of the living room. It stares at him, and he awkwardly smiles at it and tries to distract himself. It leaves eventually.

The interior of your home mesmerizes him, reminding him of those vintage homes. The teal wallpapers and the antique decors mesh well together and create a homely look. The myriad of pictures on the wall near the kitchen intrigues him.

He walks towards it and observes each photo. He sees you in all of the frames, along with a man whom he deduces to be your husband. He sees all types of pictures, varying from road trips to studio ones.

“Is your husband a celebrity by any chance, Mrs. Yoon?” He inquires after seeing a frame with the writing, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Yoon.’ A vague feeling of familiarity brews in him the more he looks at your husband.

“Ah, no, no. He's devilishly handsome and he could be a great actor but he only does business.” You voice from within the kitchen, but his mind drains you out. He's more fixated on the pictures, unable to shake the feeling.

He doesn't say anything after that, but you don't mind the silence. Quietly humming, you put together the soup. You smile to yourself, thinking of your husband. If he had been here, he'd be behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he peppers kisses on your neck.

Your daydream feels almost real as you feel a presence behind you. Chuckling, you shake your head and move to grab a bowl. But before you could, a voice shouts behind you.

“Did you kill him?!” The stranger yells, anger surging through his voice. Confusion strikes you, “What do you mean?”

You try to distance yourself from him and grab a knife. His hand catches your wrist harshly, and you cry out. Acting on your instincts, you fling the pot of soup at him. He yelps as the hot liquid makes contact with his skin.

With him muttering a plethora of curses, you run out of the kitchen. The cat observes the chaos, slowly wagging its tail. The stranger blindly moves to the sink and splashes water on his face to wash off the soup.

After gaining composure, he trudges out of the kitchen with a meat knife. He checks every door and room, eyes darting to all corners to find you. His skin stings and burns painfully. He winces but doesn't let it deter him.

The floor creaks beneath his foot, and he doesn't care if it alerts you. He wants you to know where he is, to be afraid of him. He wants to make you feel fear.

A smirk pulls his lips when he notices the basement door open. He stands in front of it, observing the steep set of stairs. As he descends down, a foul stench hits him, and he covers his nose.

He struggles to find the light switch and crashes into a few things. The stench is unbearable, and he cringes. After finally finding the switch, he turns it on.

Light illuminates the room, but some things are better hidden in the dark, like the dead guy tied to the wall. He can't find it in himself to scream or even utter a word. The only noise that escapes him is a gasp.

His horror intensifies when he recognizes it as his friend. “You fucking bitch! You killed him!” 

But it seems that there are far graver things than his dead friend. The red pentagram etched on the ground makes his skin crawl. A turn of his head also reveals a board pinned with a map that has pictures of people pinned on several locations.

His heart stops beating when he finds his own picture on it.

A noise from the cupboard pulls him out of his trance, and he stalks to it. Yanking the door open, he finds you there, cowering in fear. You push him off you and run away from him. But there's no way out with him standing directly in front of the stairs.

He runs to you, pinning you to the wall. “You bitch!” Then, he cackles, “Aww, can't run anywhere now?” His grip tightens, and dread fills your gut. He leans in closer, “You're going to be so sorry for what you did when I gut you.” 

You flinch and shut your eyes. The sound of a stab echoes through the room, but you don't feel any pain.

A heavy thud echoes through the room, followed by the sound of a body falling on the floor. Warm blood dots on your face, and some stain the cotton of your slip. You gasp and shudder, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. Your eyes land on the injured body. Blood flows from his mouth and his chest. Three holes punctured through his chest.  

You don’t need to look at him to figure out who your savior is. “Jeonghan!” you cry, throwing your arms around him. The garden fork he yields in his hands meets the floor as he hurries to take you in his embrace. 

Your lips are on his instantly, kissing him with ardor. He matches your passion, both his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him. You curl your arms around his neck, lost in the warmth of his lips. It isn’t long before his tongue prods your lips, and you’re more than happy to oblige. 

His tongue glides over yours like it has countless other times. He shifts his head to gain a better angle and kisses you deeper. One of your hands uncurls to caress his face—his flawless skin, his high cheekbones, the bone of his jaw before it slides down further. You glide your hand over his shoulders, his lean biceps, and finally his crotch. 

Jeonghan pulls away, out of breath and overjoyed. You mirror his grin when you find him rock-hard beneath his slacks. “Oh, how I missed seeing you kill,” you finish with a giggle. 

With a playful roll to his eyes, he retorts, “it’s been barely four days since I did it.” 

“And four days since I’ve seen you.” you pout, making him doe eyes at him. He melts instantly and cradles your face. “Always hungry aren’t you?” 

“For you? Yes.”

“And for blood.” he adds, making you both giggle. 

“Come on now, you gave me something to take care of.” With a pat on his bulge, you pull him up the stairs. Jeonghan happily follows but throws a cautious glance at the presumably dead body. He smiles, catching no sign of life in him, and trails behind you. 

You strut to the dining table that adjoins the kitchen and the living room and sit on it. He grins at your place of choice, and lust taints his visage when you spread your legs, inviting him.

He stands between your thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty in front of him. Little drops of blood decorate your face, but the look in your eyes entrances him. A myriad of emotions swirl beneath your irises, but he recognizes all of them, mainly lust and hunger. 

His eyes dip down to the column of your neck, which he glides his forefinger over. His finger slowly ventures down and undoes the knot of your slip. He tuts, complaining about the blood on them. “That’s fine. It gives me evidence of your love.” 

“I’m right here. The living proof of my love for you,” he pecks your lips and pushes the slip off you. 

He pulls you to the edge of the table. His fingers ghost over the cloth of your underwear, brushing against the wet spot on them. His warm breath wafts down to your breasts when he kisses your neck and chest. “I can prove it now, if you want me to.” 

A breathy moan escapes you, giving him somewhat of a ‘yes.’ With another kiss to your jugular, he pulls away and kneels down. He kisses your heat through the cotton material and smirks, eyeing the wet patch formed by your arousal. In one sly movement, he removes your hipsters.   His lips are on your heat before you can process it. He kisses your little nub and gives kitten licks to your hole. His eyes dart to your eyes, mischief swirling under his dark irises. “Jeonghan! Please!”

“Please what sweetheart? You have to use your words.” You feel his smile on your core, and his warm breath wafts against it. 

“Please, eat me out!” 

He groans and obliges to your wishes right away. He dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. He moves above, wrapping your clit between his soft lips. He sucks on the bundle of nerves, tongue flicking at the bud softly. He makes sure to look at you the entire time he’s buried between your legs. 

You relax and lay back down on the table. He spreads your legs further and licks up stripes on your sopping cunt. His tongue provides you the utmost pleasure, and moans fall from your lips freely. He switches to a slower pace as if he’s making out with your cunt. 

His tongue prods your folds, licking and savoring your taste. His hand moves to spread your lips, and he places a wet, loud kiss on your clit. A gasp escapes you when his tongue slips past your hole. He slowly moves his tongue in and out while he thumbs at your clit, drawing circles. 

He tones up his pace, getting faster and faster. Your legs tremble around his head as the coil in your stomach tightens. You cum the easiest whenever Jeonghan touches you after a “long time”—which is three days at the least. He seems to have some magic hidden up his sleeve to bring you the utmost pleasure possible. And, of course, all your years of marriage add to it.

The pressure on your clit builds up, causing your entire body to shudder and tremble. Your back arches, lifting off the table, but Jeonghan pushes you down, holding you firmly. And now that he has secured a tight grip on your hips, there is no escape from his tongue.

“Jeonghan!” you moan his name, hand shooting to grip his black locks. You push his head further into your cunt and move your hips in sync with his tongue. He smiles lazily between your legs, eyes holding nothing but awe and mirth.

The coil snaps, pushing you over the crescendo of pleasure. Wanton moans fill the room, and you cum on his tongue, giving him all your sweet nectar. Jeonghan licks you dry, caressing your trembling legs before he stands up.

Though you achieved your climax, the sight of your husband undoing his belt warms you up again. You sit up eagerly, hands flying to unbuckle his belt and slacks. He only chuckles, patting your head and muttering a low coo of ‘that's my girl.’

He slips off his shirt along with his slacks and boxers. It prompts you to undo your brassiere, presenting yourself bare to him. With a grin, he approaches you. You fawn at his rock-hard cock and undo your legs unconsciously.

Overwhelmed with the urge to feel him inside you, you pull him to you. He crashes his lips on yours in the process, giving you a searing kiss that sets your body aflame with desire. Your hands don't stay put, eager to roam all over his body. He does the same, hands relearning the route of your body for the nth time.

The heat of his body on yours melts your brain, knocking every thought out of you. The only thing you remember is his name and the way he makes you feel. Not the dire situation at play now or the dead body in your basement.

The brush of his fingers on your nipples, the poke of his cock against your inner thigh, the sensation of your sweltering skin making contact with his, the glide of his tongue on yours—all of it pushes you over the edge, driving you insane. Your arousal drips down your core, and it throbs with desire.

“Hannie,” you whine his name, your desire burning with a rage only he can control. “Fuck me.”

“As you wish, dollface.” 

His cock slips past your entrance with ease, filling you up in an instant. You hook your legs behind him, your foot digging into his back to push him in further. Your gummy walls envelop him in a warm hug that makes him dizzy.

You moan in unison when he bottoms out, in bliss with how perfectly he fills you. Throwing your arms around his neck, you prompt him to move. The first thrust is easy, given how your cunt drips down with arousal. It fills you with a pleasure that makes your body tremble.

He sets his pace, fucking you with eagerness. Each slap of his balls against your ass makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you cling to him for dear life. Sinful moans rumble from your throat with each snap of his hips.

His lips find yours again, but this time the kiss is sloppy and messy, with moans passed between your tongues and erratic snap of his hips. You meet his hips with the same vigor. You fuck him with an animalistic desire in your veins, and he gives you back just the same.

“Ah—fuck! God, I love fucking after we kill.” you yelp between your moans. He groans, replying with a “fuck, yes.”

Jeonghan grips your hips firmly, driving his cock in and out of you with a vigorous pace that numbs your nerves. Your nails dig into his back, and you scratch his delicate skin, leaving red marks for him to admire. “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” you moan, unable to control your pleasure. The table squeaks in response to the vigor of his hips. You press your tits against his chest, desperate to feel more of his warmth.

You look down to where your body meets him. The sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt with a wet squelch each time makes you moan. A creamy ring forms at the base of his cock, and some of your arousal drips down to the table.

Jeonghan shifts one of his hands to harshly grip the back of your head, forcing you to look up at him. A grin decorates his face at the hazy look in your eyes. He keeps up his pace while moving his other hand to squeeze your mouth open. You push your tongue out eagerly, waiting for him to spit in your mouth. He does, and you happily taste him before swallowing it.

“Good girl,” he kisses your forehead, sliding his hand down to wrap around your throat. He grips your throat, squeezing it lightly. A chuckle erupts from his chest, watching your eyes roll back. He kisses your forehead again, only for him to deliver light slaps to your cheeks. Warmth pools in his chest when you whine and push yourself closer to him.

“Fuck, I love it when you go dumb on my cock.” He whispers into your ear, tickling you with his breath. His cock kisses your sweet spot, and you feel him twitching inside you.

You clench around him on purpose. He groans a low curse, and his movements turn erratic. You continue to do so till he eventually stops, whining a string of curses. “Stop it. Stop doing that,”

Obliging to his wishes, you observe him as he takes a few seconds to compose himself. His eyelids flutter, and his lips fall apart as he tries to regain control. A knowing smirk graces your lips, knowing the effect you have on him.

“Brat,” you only giggle in response, which is cut short when he thrusts with a force that has you shuddering. His tip kisses your cervix, sending shudders of pleasure through your body. Tears prick your waterline and eventually cascade down your cheek as you cry out his name.

All it takes is one more thrust to push you over the crescendo again. This time, it's more intense and mind-numbing. You moan his name over and over again, like a prayer for salvation. He follows suit and fills his load inside you, shuddering the same as you.

His hands wrap around you tightly and, yours around him. Leaning your head against his shoulders, you catch your breath and try to control the shivers through your body. His warm breath on your back calms you, and so do his feather-light touches.

Your eyelids feel heavy as slumber descends upon you. And, before you know it, you fall asleep in his arms. 

[ … ]

“We have to let the others know about this,” Jeonghan informs, stirring his cup of tea with a spoon. You nod wordlessly, sipping your own cup of tea.

Slumber hasn't left you completely, and the tiredness weighs down on your bones. Your eyes slowly close shut again, and you lean back on the loveseat. Jeonghan sighs to himself, setting his cup down on the coffee table. He takes away yours before you can spill it on yourself.

Your soft groans make his heart flutter, and you stir awake again. The first thing you see is your husband sitting on the floor as he massages your legs.

“Poor thing, you must've had a hard time.” The pout on his lips makes you smile. “Not really,” you chirp, feeling more energetic as the seconds pass.

“Oh really?” he muses, and you hum. He shakes his head, worry marring his features. “What if I didn't get here on time? Why did you even allow him in?”

“I was bored.” To which he glares at you, a tired sigh falling from his lips.

“And, He visited.”

Jeonghan stops massaging your legs and looks up at you, confused. You see the tinge of fear in the clench of his jaw and the hold of his breath. You point to the black cat that has made itself home despite all the chaos that went down a few hours ago.

He visibly calms down and bows his head at the cat meows in return. He looks back at your smiling figure, and it strikes him. “Right, I asked for your safety to Him.”

“He saw our pictures,” your words barely audible as you look at the big wall covered with all your pictures with him. A soft smile graces your lips when your eyes fall on your wedding picture. 14th October, 1949.

Then you cackle, recalling the realization and terror on that guy's face. “Oh, you should've seen his face.” Jeonghan laughs along with you and resumes his ministrations on your legs. You relax on the cushion and let out a blissful sigh.

He sighs and zeroes in on the blood spots on your vintage slip. One of his many gifts to you, and it's something you've treasured for over seven decades.

“Ugh, it's fine. You can always buy me a new one.” You say, and a smirk adorns your lips when your eyes fall on the Johnny Cash vinyl on the shelf. You stand and walk towards it, pulling it out gently.

You flash your husband a grin, and he mirrors your visage. Placing the vinyl on the platter of the vinyl player, you move the tonearms and set it on the vinyl.

The world tunes into a buzzing background as you dance with him. His hands are gentle on you, holding you delicately. The setting is all a little too familiar to him, and before he knows it, he takes a trip down memory lane.

But the only one he can remember is the time when he almost lost you to death. The image of your bed-stricken figure flashes through his mind. He holds you a little closer.

In his life plan, Jeonghan never even imagined that you'd be diagnosed with cancer fifteen years into your marriage. Nothing held out, and it was hard to be optimistic with his wife on the lifeline.

And as he was holding your pained body in his arms, he cried and cried. What kind of god would allow this? Why should you be taken away? He felt life slowly slip out of you, and he couldn’t stop it. 

They say to never pray to the gods that answer at night, but that’s all he could do. Turning his back on religion and righteousness. His love for you blinded all reason, and he yearned to be in your embrace once again. He could never live without you—what he feels is an immortal desire, lust, love. Even if he is to die, the ground around him will flourish and sprout your favorite flowers—an amaranthine yearning. 

So he did it. He prayed and prayed, and when He finally answered, he vowed to do anything and everything that He wished for. Immortality for the curse of bloodied hands. He cringed at the sight of blood staining his skin, but as your bloodied hand intertwined with his, all felt right and in place. 

His hands take purchase on your hips, holding you as you sway to the gentle hum of the music. You smile at him and lean on his shoulders, content in his embrace. He mirrors your smile and kisses your forehead. 

What a blessing it is to be here with you? To gently sway to some music in the living room of your home with your blood-stained slips and his stained soul? 

He kisses you, and you kiss him back. You bite his lips just enough to draw blood. A thousand ways to bleed, but you are his favorite.

⛧spooktober taglist !

@verogonewild @blancflms @chromequette @junniepookiedookie @kyeomiis

@jeonghnie @scoupsieee @xuminghaes @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ririesna

@monstacheol @hoshiskimchi @miyx-amour @woozidanisms @choco-scoups

@cookiearmy @shadowyjellyfishfest @wonwoossecret @strxwberry-skiess @iamawkwardandshy

@merakilles @vitaminkyeom @okiedokrie @armycarat2612 @gyuguys

@idubiluranghae @goodforgyu @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @gyubakeries @nonuify

@aaniag @4cheezflatbred

[muddyorbsblr]

onyx pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)

An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.

Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.

Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.

And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.

Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.

You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.

Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.

"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."

"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.

Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.

You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."

You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.

"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"

The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.

"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."

You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.

"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"

It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."

Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"

"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"

The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"

His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."

"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."

You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.

"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.

Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.

"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."

He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.

"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."

Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.

"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.

"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"

"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."

"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."

Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."

"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.

The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.

"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."

With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.

The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.

"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"

You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."

"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"

"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.

"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"

"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."

"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"

Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.

"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.

Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.

"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."

The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."

A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"

He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."

In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[i-wanna-write]

Stupid Plan - Billy Butcher x Reader

Prompt: You hate Billy Butcher and you hate his stupid plans.

Wanting: 18+ ONLY. SMUT. Rough Smut. Choking. Mention of strangulation. It’s The Boys guys. Swearing. Lots of use of the word fuck. Some use of cunt. Mentions of blood and gore - again, it’s the Boys

Word Count: 3130

Disclaimer: I find all pics off google! This is the first ever Smut I’ve written. I’m so sorry if it’s trash!

————————————————————————

You hated Billy Butcher with every fiber of your being starting with the first moment met him. When you first met him all those years ago it was like mixing oil with water. Your boss at the CIA partnered the two of you together and you wanted to kill yourself then and there. Years of working with the foul-mouthed borderline rogue agent only further fueled your mutual hatred for one another.

You hated how he always called the shots and barely listened to your input when it came to planning. You hated how he was a shoot first ask questions later type of partner. You hated how his vulgar language never stopped even when talking to his superiors. Most of all, you hated how attracted to him you were.

Chocolate brown eyes, jet black hair, jaw scribbled with facial hair. His broad shoulders meant for gripping onto and an ass meant for grabbing.

You really hated him.

When he reached out to you years after leaving the CIA, you laughed in his face when he asked you to join him in taking down Supes. But his serious face didn’t falter and your laughing quickly stopped, now cursing yourself for hearing him out.

Not only did he rope you into this rag tag team, but he got Frenchie and M.M to join too. As well as baby face Hughie who just had an unlucky hand dealt to him.

That’s how you find yourself now, fuming in a silent car sandwiched between Frenchie and Hughie on your way to your underground hideout. Butcher is driving, M.M in the passenger's seat. The Frenchman has the window cracked with a cigarette hanging between his teeth while Hughie bounces his knee up and down in anxiety.

You can only imagine the tight grip Butcher has on the steering wheel. The thoughts of anger going through his head. His plan was a stupid one and you called him on that the minute he proposed the idea. But one dark look from him had you shutting up and rolling your eyes, going along with the stupid plan with the other boys.

Emphasis on stupid plan.

Your goal was to attend a Supes charity event to follow the lead on a Supe dealing Compound V. Rumor was that he was going to make a big appearance and donate a shit ton of money to the charity, allowing him to gain more favors with the public as he wanted to join the Seven.

That’s when the stupid plan started. Butcher had you and Frenchie pretend to be married, which was the first stupid idea he pitched. The Frenchman is your best friend but the two of you work together on missions as well as a cat and a dog. He gets too easily excited at the smallest bit of action while you always go into things level headed.

You two were dressed to impress, Frenchie in an expensive suit and yourself in a revealing cocktail dress. While the two of you were to mingle and pick up comments of where the guest of honor would be, the other three boys were to be scouting the hotel rooms looking for him based on the information you gathered.

So, with the first stupid idea being you pretending to be married to Frenchie, the second was the revealing dress. Because the guest of honor wasn’t out preparing in his hotel room. No, he was mingling with the crowd when his eyes landed on you.

You told Butcher that you being on the floor was not a good idea. That you were the exact type of woman this man was accused of fraternizing with. But did he listen? No. You felt like you were reliving your CIA days - half cocked plans, shoot first, questions later, deal with whatever mess you caused later.

You had to use the restroom and informed Frenchie you’d be back in a moment. The Frenchman merely nodded, turning his attention back to those around him. Another reason why you two should never be partners in this sort of thing. Because any other partner would have gone with you but Frenchie just gets too excited in these sorts of things.

That’s how you found yourself, alone and cornered in the women’s bathroom, the guest of honor not letting you escape. You whispered into your com to tell the boys, Butcher telling you to stall, that they’ll be there soon. You learned not to rely on Butcher early on

So when the boys entered the women’s room to find you covered in blood, the back of a toilet seat in hand, to say Butcher was pissed was an understatement. The Supe made one to many advances, not catching the hint. He backed you into a stall and the two of you began to fight, him eventually encircling his hands around your neck. Reaching for the only thing you could grab, you found the back of the toilet seat and bashed his head in, repeatedly

“I told you it was a stupid plan.” You said to Butcher, dropping the seat cover and stepping over the body to leave the restroom and head to the car

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car door being slammed and look up to see that you’re back to the hideout, Butcher already having exited. You sigh and get out on the same side as Frenchie, closing the door behind you.

“Dumbing fucking cunt.” Butcher mumbles as you five enter the hideout.

You roll your eyes and push pass everyone to enter the bathroom, needing to get the Supes’ blood off of you. You close the door behind you and stand in front of the mirror, looking at yourself.

Your face is speckled with blood and your eye is starting to bruise, purple peeking out through your naturally tan skin. Your hair that was once in a neat pulled back high pony is frizzy, strands falling out to frame your face. You notice light purple marks already beginning to form on your neck, showing signs of the strangulation you endured only an hour ago.

Clenching your fists, you turn on the water, steam rising to the mirror. You place your hands under it and scrub, wanting your blood and the Supes gone.

“Fucking Butcher.” You mumble to yourself. “Fucking stupid fucking plan.”

“Well maybe you should fucking listen for a change, aye?” A British voice says from your right.

You jump and turn towards the voice, seeing the large frame of one Billy Butcher in the bathroom, door shut behind him. You shut off the water and then turn towards him. His face his angry, his arms at his sides as you watch him clench and unclench his fists.

You let you a chuckle. “Me listen for a change?” You ask incredulously as you throw you hands up in the air. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Is it?” He asks, cocking his head to his side and bearing his teeth. “How’s that now?”

“Your fucking plan was fucking stupid to begin with and I. Told. You. That.” You take a step forward and point a finger into his chest to emphasize the last point.

“What’s stupid is you going of on your fucking own and being dumb enough to get fucking cornered by the fucking Supe.” Butcher yells back, smacking your hand away from his body.

“It was your genius idea to have Frenchie and I go in together - which I advised against!” You yell back just as loud.

Yelling feels good. The past months of putting up with Billy Butcher and his always right complex has finally taken its toll on you. You could put up with him in the CIA, really you could. There your goal was mutual and laid out in front of you. But now, now Butcher only seems to have his own agenda and never shares it with anyone.

“It was your brilliant idea to have me go in! When I fucking told you it was a bad. Fucking. Idea!” You scream.

“Well it was your brilliant idea to fucking bash the cunts head in, losing our lead on Compound V!”

Butcher's face is in yours, so close you can feel his breath against your lips. So badly do you want to punch the asshole. In fact, you want to take the back of this toilet off and bash his head in. Maybe than his plans won’t be as stupid as this one.

“You know what?” You ask, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m done.”

You move past Butcher, wanting to leave the bathroom, leave the hideout, leave this rag tag team. Your hand is on the door and opens it about 2 inches before it’s slammed shut. You feel Butcher’s body behind yours, his hand on the right side by your face.

“No.” He says gruffly, turning you around so you’re now facing him, back pressed against the door. “You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

You have had it. He’s been walking over the four of you for months and you’re done. It’s always his idea, his plans, his reasoning. Not anymore. Fuck this. Fuck the team. Fuck the Supes. And most importantly, fuck Billy Butcher.

“You know what? Fuck yo-“

You’re cut off by Butcher’s lips slamming into yours, his body pressing against you to pin you between him and the door. His lips move roughly, tasting of whiskey he probably took a swig of before following you in here.

You immediately respond, kissing back just as hard. Your lips move sloppily together, both of you so angry at the other you want the kiss to hurt. His hands are placed on your hips, gripping tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. You bring your hands up to his hair and yank hard, wanting to do the same damage back.

He tongue pries open your mouth and immediately finds yours, tracing over it. You give back the same intensity he is, using your mouth to fight him since your arms physically can’t. An idea forms in your head and you pull away slightly, grabbing his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down. Hard.

Butcher immediately pulls away and you use the opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaves up and down and your body is warm, you’re positive your flushed. Butcher looks the same, his breath coming out in pants, cheeks red, hair going in all different directions.

“Did you just fucking bite me,” he asks, his hand going up to his mouth to check for blood.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking cunt I would’ve been gentler.” You goad him.

You watch as his eyes darken and he’s immediately on you again, lips on yours. This time his hands are on your ass and he pushes up, signally what he wants you to do. Your arms grip his shoulders as you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Butcher immediately pins you back against the door and you pull away to gasp as you feel his hard cock against between your legs. Heat immediately rushes to your core and you shift slightly so it hits the right spot, brushing against your clit.

“Fuck Butcher.” You moan, hands moving down his body to reach the bottom of his shirt, wanting it off.

His hips press against you harder, causing you to throw your head back against the door. You watch through heavy eyelids as he removes his shirt in one go before finding your lips again. You didn’t even get the chance to admire his shirtless body, his hands tightly squeezing your ass as your own grip onto his shoulders.

You feel yourself begin to move and pull away to watch as he carries you a short distance to the sink, placing you atop it. He shoots you a quick grin before pulling at your dress, sliding it down your shoulders before his lips attach to your neck, trailing down.

“Ahhh.” Escapes you as he begins to suck on your pulse point, your hips bucking to once again feel his hard cock beneath his jeans against you.

He sucks harshly before biting down, his tongue then swirling along the mark that will be there tomorrow. While starting a new mark, his hands further pull down your dress, freeing your boobs from their constraints. Both hands grab them, fitting perfectly in his hands as he squeezes roughly.

“Fuck sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent.” Butcher mumbles against your neck before traveling lower.

His lips find one of your nipples, sucking and biting causing you to scrape your nails up his back and latch onto his shoulders. A sensation shoots down your body to your core and you buck your hips again, wishing his jeans were gone and he was already inside of you. One hand finds your free breast and squeezes the nipple tightly, another moan escaping you.

Sweat beads on your skin as his mouth switches its attention to your other nipple, his hand venturing further south before it meets your thigh. He bunches your dress up so it’s now only wrapped around your waist and presses a hand against your mound.

“Oh my God.” You groan as he pinches your clit, another sensation moving through your body.

“No underwear aye sweetheart?” Butcher starts, pulling away to look in your eyes. “If I knew you wanted me that bad all you had to do was ask.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck yo-“

But Butcher cuts you off again, this time because of his finger entering you. His thick digit moves in and out slowly, your core so wet it can easily slide. You slide one of your hands down to the front of his jeans, blindly searching for his button and zipper.

You feel his other hand touch yours, helping you get his cock free. You pull his jeans down just enough for it to escape and immediately grab it, noting how your whole hand can’t fit all the way around.

“Ah Fuck.” Butcher groans, his hips rocking to allow his cock to slide through your enclosed hand.

He adds a second finger and you throw your head back, eyes closed. He starts to set a pace and you try to follow it with your hand on his cock, your hips slightly rocking to the motion. His fingers curl up, finding the spot you desperately needed him to find.

“Fuck Butcher.” You gasp, your hips starting to increase their pace.

Only he immediately pulls his fingers out of you.

You open your eyes and begin to lift your head but stop as a hand wraps around your neck. Your body tenses, your gaze meets Butchers. His eyes are dark, face flushed and sweat coating his skin.

“You say my name when I’m inside of you.” He states, his grip tightening slightly to emphasize the demand before loosening.

You can only nod and that’s enough for him as he guides his cock into you. You gasp at the intrusion, his two fingers not even coming close to the size of his cock. You feel it stretching your walls and try to take in air as it touches every crevice inside of you.

Billy doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out before ramming back into you. You feel slight pain at the repeated intrusion but it quickly turns into only pleasure as he sets a fast and rough pace. His hand doesn’t leave your neck, his other tightly gripping your hip to hold you in place. Both of your hands grab onto his shoulders, squeezing tightly, nails digging into them again.

“Fuck Billy. Fuck.” You say as his cock reaches a deep place inside of you.

“How’s tha’ sweetheart?” He asks, his lips attacking your neck in kisses and bites. “This why you’re always such a bitch? Huh? Needed me to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You don’t respond. Instead, you move your hands to his head, guiding his lips to yours. You move just as roughly as before, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as you both try to fuck the fight out of each other.

Billy’s hand on your neck slides down to reach your clit, rubbing your juices over it. You pull your mouth away, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

“Fuck that. Look at me.” Billy starts, his hand leaving your clit to grab your chin roughly. “Look at this.” He guides your head down, your eyes watching as his cock exits and enters you, coated with your juices. “Look at how wet you are for me. How good my cock makes you feel. You like tha’ sweetheart?”

You nod, looking back up to meet his gaze, his brown eyes so dark they appear black. His hand returns to rub your clit and you stare into each other's eyes as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your panting breaths fill the room.

“Billy. I’m- I’m close.” You tell him, feeling that familiar sensation creep deep into your stomach.

Billy’s response isn’t verbal but you know he’s heard you as his pace picks up and he rubs your clit harder. You moan a little louder causing Billy to kiss you again.

“Don’t want the boys to have dinner and a show aye.” He grins as he pulls away.

His hips continue to snap, his cock sliding out of you only to hammer back in, hitting the deep part of you repeatedly. Your core begins to tighten and you squeeze your eyes shut as the familiar feeling starts to take over.

“Fuck, Billy. Shit. Billy.” You chant, the feeling now taking over.

Your eyes remain closed as your body tenses and you feel yourself come undone. Your channel squeezes his cock as it continues to move in and out of you, Billy not stopping as you ride your high. You hands latch onto his neck and you pull him back to a kiss as the feeling slowly begins to die down.

Billy feels you unclench and pulls out, his mouth still connected to yours as his hands pump himself once, twice, before he releases a groan against your lip as he cums onto your dress and stomach.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Billy says as he pulls away from your lips.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, both of you panting as you come down from your highs.

“It was still a stupid plan.” You whisper to him, a small smile on your lips.

Billy just gives a disbelieved laugh before leaning down to kiss you once more.

If all his stupid plans of the past ended like this, maybe you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do.

[leahsgirl]

star girl | lucy bronze x reader

based off the request ‘maybe one with Lucy, that the r scores in the euros final like the winning goal’. let’s imagine it’s the 23’ world cup final again and leah + beth never tore their acl’s xx

—

It’s safe to say tensions were high in the locker room as you and your fellow England teammates prepared for one of the biggest matches of your careers. Sarina had opted for the same line-up that secured your team the european championship a year prior, just a few changes here and there.

Yourself was on the bench as a substitute, however, it didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking. Double knotting the laces on your boot, you walked over to a familiar brunette.

“it’s totally normal to feel sick to my stomach right?” She chuckles, as if she isn’t about to go out to a crowd of 75,000+ people. “The life of a footballer love.”

“How have you played three world cups? I feel like a heart attack is going to hit me any minute.” Sitting next to her, she squeezes your hand and kisses your temple. “Calmer?” The older girl asks. “Calmer.” You confirm, leaning your head on her shoulder for a brief minute.

You would describe your relationship with Lucy very much black cat x golden retriever; while you was often energetic and switching through emotions like tv channels, lucy was the opposite. While she liked to have fun and be sarcastic and all, she was actually a very chill person who would just go with the flow.

Lucy and you had been dating for just over a year and a half with only close friends and family knowing. You’d be lying if you had your doubts if the both of you would even last - with Lucy playing in Barcelona and you for your childhood club Manchester United, but you stuck it out and recently just bought your first place together.

It was 7:45pm over in Sydney Australia, both opposing teams beginning to line up next to each other in the tunnel. You and the other substitutes were to come out after the starting players. You prayed to God you could come away with a win tonight - you knew how hard each and everyone of you worked and to win the world cup would just be the cherry on top to an undefeated championship run youse had going.

Walking out, it all suddenly got very real. The cheers from the crowd made you smile as you took your seat.

The referee blew her whistle; it was go time. You watched the game intensely, weighing up the stats of your team and the opposing team. Spain was playing good and the nerves in your stomach were intensifying with each passing second.

“Oh shit look!” Ella pointed over at James who was now running down a practically free pitch. “Come on, come on.” You muttered under your breath as you see Spain’s goalkeeper take her stance. James went to hit the ball, it travelling at a good speed. Unlucky for you and your team, it just narrowly missed the goal and instead hit the crossbar - the goalkeeper catching it as it fell back down, opting to roll it to one of her Spanish teammates.

Ten minutes had passed and your team was yet to make another chance, Spain players literally tackling left and right. It all came crashing down however when Carmona scored twenty-nine minutes in, managing to slot the ball into the corner of the net. As the opposing team celebrated you couldn’t help but feel bad for your girlfriend who you know would be blaming herself for the goal after she gave away the ball taking on three players at once.

The game carried on with a profound feeling of desperation. While Beth, both Laurens and even Keira had a shot at goal, none of the attempts made it into the net. You was happy to hear the half-time whistle blow, running down the steps and back through the tunnel.

“It’s not your fault, don’t even think it.” Knowing exactly the thoughts going on in your girlfriend’s head, you rubbed her back supportively. “I got too bloody cocky, I should’ve just passed it back.” Lucy ran her slim fingers through her tied back hair.

“Hey hey, we still have another forty five minutes to show them what we’ve got. And I don’t know about you, but I think Bronze over here shouldn’t stop aiming for gold.” Her lips tugged at a grin over your partially lame joke. “You’re right, as always. Don’t know what I’d do without my woman.” She quickly pecked your lips.

“Okay lovebirds, keep it in your pants - we have a game to win.” Keira piped up, giving both you and lucy a little smack on the back of the head.

It’s safe to say after the pep talks the squad received in the locker room, England was on top form. It also helped that Spain had let go of the reigns a little, clearly thinking they were safe with the one nil advantage.

The 68th minute. That’s when the crowd started to get a whole lot louder and players were charging down one side of the pitch. Hemp had control of the ball, slowing just before the box and passing it to Beth. The blonde hit the ball with her left foot sending it straight into the back of the goal. Cheers roared through the stadium as you celebrated with the other girls on the bench. The scoreline now 1-1, you was still in this.

Your time had come to make a debut in the game, walking onto the outskirts of the pitch, Sarina going through the plan with you. James was the girl who was making way for your appearance, giving you a double high-five and pat on the back.

Running onto the pitch, adrenaline rushed through you as you made eye contact with a certain someone and sent her a wink. You hadn’t even managed to get three passes before you were caught with studs pressing into your ankle, sending you down onto the ground “What the fuck was that for?” It’s not like you was massive threat to the Spanish team at that moment considering you was about to pass the ball back up your end.

Luckily you were awarded a free kick, having alex take it. The match was getting more tense the longer you played, both teams creating good chances. Spain was even awarded a penalty which thank god Mary saved.

91 minutes. The game had entered extra time. Scores still level.

You watched as Keira dribbled with the ball, passing to Leah who kicked it up the pitch. Weighing up where the ball was in the sky and where you was near the goal you saw your chance; jumping up in the air you threw your body back, your left foot getting a hit on the ball which sent it flying into the net. Getting up off the grass, you look at one of the assistant referee’s to make sure it wasn’t offside.

His flag staying down, you dropped to your knees in disbelief. The girls ran over to you cheering and shouting your name while practically assaulting you with hugs.

The final whistle was blown about thirty seconds later with your whole squad now coming into the pitch. Familiar hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you into the air, carrying you bridal style. “You’re fucking incredible you know that?” The brunette spun you around grinning like a little child.

Once put down you cupped her face in your hands, overcome with emotion and smashed your lips onto hers. Although the defender was taken back, she gave into the moment and kissed you back with just the same intensity. It wasn’t the way either of you was planning to make the relationship public but hey, you just won the biggest tournament of your lives and wanted to celebrate with your special lady.

it wasn't long before you was ambushed by your team shouting compliments left right and centre. the crowd was also off on one, the volume making your ears ring.

walking back through the tunnel and into the locker room you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when a voice whispered into your ear "follow me."

obliging by the command and plodding behind the brunette, she dragged you into what appeared to be a storage room, miscellaneous sports equipment scattered around.

pushing you up against the cold wall which made you audibly gasp she planted a searing kiss onto your lips, hands having a firm hold of your waist. you reacted almost immediately, placing you hand on the back of her neck and bringing the two of you even closer.

"god i love you." the older woman breathed out as she moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking the skin to the point you was squirming in effort to not make any noise.

"i should score goals more often if this is how i get rewarded." forcing her to look at you, you reconnected your lips wasting no time in biting her bottom lip and snaking your tongue inside.

just as she slid her hand under your shirt there was a bang on the door. "lucia bronze and y/n y/l/n! if youse two are not out of there in ten seconds i will kick this door down myself!" tooney shouted.

you placed one last peck on lucy's cheek "i think we've been caught."

the right-back rolled her eyes. "we're continuing this later." she smirked, hitting your butt before unlocking and opening the door for you.

-

liked by youruser and 2,792,051 others

lucybronze Won the world cup and the girlfriend jackpot. On top of the world right now.

youruser 🤍

creator has limited comment access.

[berryz-writes]

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝒾𝓈𝓉

Main blog : @berryzxx

Requests are currently open!! <33

𝒜𝒞𝒪𝒯𝒜𝑅

Azriel

Game Night (Fluff, Game night with your mate and the IC) Better than cupcakes (Az is your mate and you're oblivious to it. Wanting him to try one of your treats could lead to disaster) Jealousy part 1 (You're forced to spend the weekend with the bane of your existence but little do you realize he doesn't completely hate you) Jealousy part 2 It's always going to be you (Az starts to spend more time with Elain and you distance yourself- apologizing/fluff ) You are divine (he's been busy on a mission and you've missed him so much. Will you reveal your feelings?) Not yet (you're not ready to tell Az's family you're mates in fear of them not liking you ) To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part (Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate) Peace (Azriel finally finds some peace with you in the morning. Literally just fluff) 

Azriel appreciation week: 2024

Blue (There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others) day 1 Maps (Azriels daughter finds his scars far more interesting than the map you're trying to show her, indirectly healing a part of Azriel he had left in the dark) day 2

Lucien

Home (Lucien and you are finally living the dream. A new house and the love of your life with you, what else could you ask for?)

𝐻𝒫

-headcanons

Draco Malfoy Theodore Nott Mattheo Riddle Mattheo x Hufflepuff reader Enzo Berkshire

Theodore Nott

Forgive me (You and Theo are in an argument and he tries to apologies but you don't listen, until he tries something different) Hogsmeade (a small argument with theo, fluff) I'll try harder (based off the 11th headcanon. He's been in the infirmary one too many times) You're mine sweetheart (Theo is the only one who can make you feel better after a shit day) It's only a game (convincing moody theo to have a snowball fight)

Mattheo Riddle

Cold nights (He has a hard time as usual sleeping but with you he might be able to) Perfectly serious (Mattheo can't keep his feelings and jealousy in check when he see's you with another guy) Faking it part 1 (fake dating the guy you like won't be too hard...right?)

Draco Malfoy

Darling, I'm yours part 1 (best friends in love except both of you are oblivious)

𝒯𝐼𝒢

-headcanons

Grayson Hawthorne Grayson Hawthorne- when he was younger Hathorne headcanons- if they had a younger sister

Grayson Hawthorne

Lazy Mornings (Waking up with you is the best thing possible, which is why he tries to keep you in bed longer, fluff) Completely fine (You're injured and Grayson is pissed, not at you but at himself) Special treatment (Grayson see's a black cat and adopts it while drunk, surprising you with it) You're the only one for me part 1 (You find something suspicious on Grayson's phone. During your argument you get hurt, will he be able to fix things?) You're the only one for me part 2

[littleocean-rose]

Our Little Star

Summary: While walking on the way to a pet store to look for a kitten you want to adopt, you trace your hand over your soulmate tattoo on your wrist, the black ink reading one little word on your skin. Byeol. You stare at it, like you’ve done countless times in your life, wondering if you’ll ever meet your soulmate one day.

AU: non-idol, soulmate Pairings: Choi San x reader Warnings: none Word count: 2.1k

A/N: words cannot describe how many people I would kill for Byeol. I love her, I adore, I want to hold and kiss her, she is the most precious baby out there. San I love you but I WILL steal your cat. (jk I’m stealing you both-)

The world was full of different ways for people to meet their soulmate.

Some had it easy. Seeing each other in their dreams, able to communicate their names and location to the other. Dreamers had it the easiest by far, followed by Inkers. Inkers had the ability to communicate to their soulmate by writing on their skin, the words and marks appearing on the others’ skin, allowing them to write down names and numbers and locations. Visionaries were the third lucky ones, getting to see a glimpse of what their soulmate was seeing every now and then, taking in the scenery of where they were, what they were doing.

Others weren’t so lucky. Stringers had that little red thread attached to their pinkies, leading them to their soulmate, but never knowing how close they were to them. For all they knew, that little red string could run across an entire continent or over an ocean. All they knew was what direction their soulmate was in. Phrasers and Tattooists also had it hard. They could go their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmate, hoping to find someone with a matching tattoo, or listening desperately for the words that matched the ink on their skin. Colorists were among that class, too—their world monotone and grey until they finally laid eyes upon their soulmate, their world suddenly bursting into color the moment they found their other half.

Then there were the unlucky ones. Counters, those with timers on their wrists, were ones you always felt bad for. While some times Counters had their timers counting down until the moment they met their soulmate, others had timers that counted down until the moment their soulmate died. There were those who felt their soulmate’s pain, or shared the same wounds as them. Those who bloomed flowers from their skin, flowers that matched the emotions of what their soulmate was feeling. Signs you did in fact have a soulmate but were never given any indication of how they would know they even met them.

You were in the class of Phrasers, your soulmate mark being the first thing you would hear your soulmate say. Some had whole sentences, but you? You had a single word. Byeol. You remembered when you were a child how you obsessed over the word, looking up the definition and seeing it was of Korean origin. So growing up, you learned to speak Korean, studying it every moment you could, until you were fluent in it by the age of thirteen. Your parents encouraged you, just as eager as you to meet your soulmate, and when you hit the age of eighteen, they tearfully drove you to the airport so you could catch your flight to South Korea.

While they supported your decision, they still were sad to see you leaving to live in another country.

It wasn’t like you didn’t visit—you did every chance you could, which was usually every other year, but you were still their only child, and they missed always seeing you in person.

But here you were, nearly seven years later, and you still hadn’t met your soulmate. While it did dampen your spirits, you decided to stop trying so hard to find them. Not because you were quitting and giving up on the idea, no. What was the point of stressing over it? You’d leave it to Fate—if you found them, hey, great! If not, then, well, that didn’t mean you couldn’t start a romance with someone else.

You glanced down at the word again, fingers tracing over the ink as you walked into the pet store. You had recently moved into a new apartment so you could be closer to your job, and you were beyond ecstatic to discover it was a pet friendly home. Wasting no time, you had run out of the house first thing after breakfast on your day off to get yourself a new little companion. While you were originally planning to get one from a shelter, it was on the other side of the city, and you didn’t feel up for the long journey.

Instantly you went to the pets section, face lighting up at the cute animals in their enclosures. You went by the birds, taking a moment to admire their pretty plumage and beautiful songs, and then past the fluffy bunnies. You passed by mice next, stopping to watch them run through their little tubes, and then stopped to watch one of the hamsters run on his wheel. Of course you had to stop and look at the puppies, cooing at how adorable they were, watching them tumble over each other as they played. You had thought about getting a puppy, but in the end you just couldn’t pass up the idea of getting a kitten.

Which was why you were now in front of the cat enclosures. You took the time to look over each cat, aww-ing over their adorable little faces and fuzzy paws that reached out past the bars of their cages. There were some adult cats, a pretty calico catching your eye as you walked by, and then a cute tabby who seemed hyped on caffeine as he bounced off the walls, smacking around one of his toys and making you laugh. Then you reached the kitten area, and your heart melted.

They were at different stages of growth, some bordering on young teen, while others still seemed to wobble a little as they stood. One kitten in particular caught your eye. It was a siamese, large blue eyes staring up at you as it rolled over on its back with a long stretch and yawn, having just woke up from its nap.

One of the employees approached you, a wide smile pulling at his lips. You glanced at his name tag. Wooyoung. “Hello! Did you see someone you wanted to go say hi to?”

You nodded, pointing at the little siamese kitten. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

The employee nodded. “Yeah, of course! Let me take you in.” Another employee passed the two of you, tall and blonde as he approached another customer that had also been looking at the cat display. You followed Wooyoung to the door where he unlocked it, letting you to get a closer look at the cats. As you entered, a barrage of mewls filled the room, and you couldn’t help but coo at how adorable they all sounded. “Hey guys, we have a visitor! Be on your best behaviors, okay?” Another series of meows filled the air, making the employee grin. “Anyway, go right on ahead and take a look! I’ll be right here to answer any questions you have!”

You thanked Wooyoung, starting with the cages at the back first. You heard the door open again, glancing over to see that same tall employee from earlier enter. “Hey, Yunho! Oh, another person interested in getting a– oh, it’s you again!” You tuned out their conversation, putting all your focus on the cats before you. An orange tabby, curled up into a ball, softly chittered in its sleep, and you nearly had to bite your fist from cooing as to not wake it up from its dream.

You looked over each cat, making your way slowly back to the siamese from earlier, until finally you were standing before its cage. It meowed softly at you, kneading the soft pillow it was sitting on. “She’s only been here a week, that one. She was left at our door in the middle of the night with her siblings in a box. The others have all found homes, she’s the only one left now.”

“Aww, that’s sad. At least they weren’t left on the side of the road or something,” you murmured. Wooyoung nodded.

“Yeah, I’m glad we could find them all good homes.” You heard quiet murmuring from behind you, the employee Yunho talking to his customer. Wooyoung gave a hum. “If you had to name her, what name would you give?”

You thought for a second, looking back into her big blue eyes. You swore you could see stars in her eyes, a hint of a pink galaxy, and one word came to mind. You smiled softly.

“Byeol.”

“Byeol.”

Your eyes widened, turning around to the other person who had uttered the word. Your focus landed on the other customer, his expression full of shock just like yours. At the same time you both looked down at your wrists, and with a quiet gasp you noticed that your soulmate tattoo was now red. This was him. This was your soulmate. After years of searching, you had finally found him.

You locked eyes with him, taking in his features as he did the same with you. His eyes reminded you of a cat’s, and at the corners of his excited smile were two adorable little dimples that you couldn’t look away from. His hair was pink, and you wondered if that had been the pink you had seen reflected in the kitten’s eyes earlier. You never thought you’d find someone who could rock pink hair so well, and it seemed you were proven wrong in the best way.

“Hi,” he breathed, smile growing, turning his eyes into cute little crescents. It was an absolutely adorable sight, your heart doing a little flip at it. You were sure your cheeks were a light pink, matching his, and you barely registered the fact that Wooyoung and Yunho were quietly squealing to themselves while watching the two of you.

“Hi,” you replied, cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. “So, Byeol, huh?”

The male grinned, chuckling lightly as he looked over at the kitten. “Yeah, I swear I saw stars in her eyes.”

“Me too…” You faded off, and the male sheepishly scratched at his neck.

“Sorry. San, my name is Choi San.” He held his hand out to you, and you spotted the red tattoo on his inner wrist. Byeol. You smiled again, taking his hand, noting how small and soft it was, and how perfectly yours fit in it.

You gave him your name, his eyes lighting up. “What a pretty name,” he murmured, cheeks flushing at realizing he said that out loud. You laughed, finding his behavior sweet, warmth blooming in your chest at knowing you’d probably get along with San just fine. He cleared his throat, motioning to the kitten. “Since you’re adopting her, I am demanding visiting rights.”

Amused, you fought down another smile, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Demanding visiting rights?”

“That’s correct. I’ve had my eye on that little baby since yesterday, but it seems you unfortunately beat me to adopting her. So, therefore, I am demanding visiting rights.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, pretending to think over the decision. You could see San trying to fight down a smile as well, loving how you were playing along. You tapped your chin in thought. “Hm, I think I can allow that. How does Thursday sound?”

“Perfect,” he answered. He pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “I’m going to need your contact information to know where the visiting rights will be held, and how to get ahold of you for said visits.”

You held out your phone for him to take as you took his. “Of course.” The both of you exchanged contact information, handing each other back your phones, and you couldn’t fight off the smile any more. “San, it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you.”

“It really has been. I’m so glad I decided to wait until today to come back for Byeol.” He offered you a shy smile. “I’ll… text you later, then…?”

“Please, any time you want.” Your fingers traced over your tattoo. “I’ll see you Thursday the, Mister Choi. With Byeol in tow, of course.”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears, and you decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life listening to it. He rubbed at his neck again, your eyes flickering over and spotting the smattering of freckles along his skin. Everything about him was so cute. “Alright then. I’ll see you Thursday.” San gave you a little wave as he left the room, and you waved back, watching him leave until he was out of sight. As you gave a happy sigh, the two employees beside you gave quiet squeals.

“Oh my god we must be matchmakers, I have never seen two soulmates meet before in my life!”

“That was so cute, I wanted to scream! You two are so cute!” You blushed at their words, ducking your head as you gave a shy laugh, thanking them. Wooyoung cooed over the moment a little longer before finally moving on to the adoption process for Byeol.

As you walked out the store with your new little friend, you found yourself smiling as you looked at the notification on your phone.

Sannie Hey~

Sannie Be careful with the little star now! She’s our fragile little baby after all!

You shook your head with a laugh.

You couldn’t wait until Thursday came around.

A/N: heeey! Don't worry, I'm still working on Guardians! It's just longer than I expected it to be, and motivation to write has been a little low lately. But! Here's my first tumblr post! Hope it was alright, please leave some feedback if you liked it!

Thank you, have a good night/day everyone! ♡

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 4)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Being Arrested

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Stella is now four years old and Rafe gets to celebrate that first milestone with her.

Masterlist

Four years old. His little girl is four years old and Rafe finally gets to be there for one of Stella’s special days. He was quick to say yes when Y/N asked him to help plan the birthday party. She can swear he is more excited about the celebration than Stella as he pitches big and wild ideas. By the time May 17th comes around, she is able to talk him down from hiring someone to bring in safari animals to a Halloween-themed party with family members and daycare friends. With his excitement, the party also brings in the nerves of meeting Y/N’s family. He knows she told them the truth about him, but she said she explained how much he has changed for Stella. So he is a little on edge about what they are going to think about him and vows to himself to be on his best behaviour. 

Rafe finds himself setting up cauldrons filled with candies on a fold-out table in a black cat costume. Witch Y/N comes out to the backyard with a black cat-shaped piñata and a wooden broom. “If I was really being a bad boy, then you could’ve just told me. You don’t need to beat it out of me,” he jokes. Y/N giggles, heading over to the tree, “I don’t think any amount of spanking could turn you good.” His cheeks redden and he walks over to help her tie the piñata string around the tree branch when he notices her struggle. 

His breath falls on the back of his neck and his chest is flushed against her back. It takes everything in her not to take a peek at his abs that are on display thanks to his shirt lifting up. She looks up to watch him dangle the cardboard cat. He finishes up and looks down at her. They smile once their eyes meet. The moment is interrupted by Benedict coming outside with Stella in his arms. Her older brother notices their body language, “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”  “Mommy, Uncle Benny said he and me can throw paint at his walls tomorrow. Can I go, please?” Stella begs, not noticing the position her parents are in. Y/N and Rafe pull apart. Rafe holds his hand out to shake, “I’m Rafe, Stella’s dad. It’s nice to meet you.” Benedict shifts Stella to one arm and takes Rafe’s hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Y/N’s older brother, Benedict.” Rafe isn’t too sure what to say next, but luckily Y/N is able to break the silence. “Benny, can you help Rafe finish setting up? I have to get Stells changed into her costume,” she directs, leaving Rafe and Benedict alone with Stella’s pleas to go over to her uncle’s house tomorrow fading in the distance.

Unlucky for him, she says exactly what he doesn’t want her to, but he nods anyway. Rafe and Benedict keep working on the decorations. A few minutes later, a man, a woman and a teenager come out back; they all look like Y/N in various ways. The woman exclaims, “I can’t believe my grandbaby is already four.” The trio notices Rafe and freezes. Benedict is the one to rescue him, “Mom, Dad, Josh. This is Rafe, Stella’s dad.” Her mother and father give an unpleased look at him and he feels his heart deflate. He paints a smile on his face and holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N, Mr. Y/L/N, and Joshua,” he introduces, shaking all their hands. When her parents don’t say he can call them by their first names, he feels he didn’t make a good impression on them. 

Joshua gives him a smile that helps give him some hope, “It’s good to meet you. Stella has told me some great things about you.” At least, Y/N’s brothers seem to be okay with him. Y/N returns before the conversation can continue and everyone finishes putting up the decorations. 

——

The party is just beginning. Stella is running around the backyard with her friends while the adults talk to each other. None of the parents want to talk to Rafe because all they know is he was Stella’s absentee father up until recently and none of them are keen to learn more about him. Benedict is busy playing with the kids and Josh is talking to some of the parents. “Hi, sorry we are a little late. The ferry wasn’t on time,” Rose apologizes, placing a gift on the presents table. Wheezie and Sarah follow her actions and they all go looking for Stella. She spots the three Camerons arriving, running toward them. “Grammie, Auntie Wheezie, Auntie Sarah,” she screams. The little girl throws herself into the Cameron women's arms, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. 

Ever since Stella met her grandmother and aunts, she has been hooked on being exactly like them. She wants to be as determined as Rose, as kind to the environment as Sarah and as funny as Wheezie. While watching the scene, Y/N heads over to her parents. “You guys need to start talking to Rafe. I can see you guys are making him nervous,” she demands, giving them the disapproving mother look she mastered thanks to Stella. Her father gives her a questioning look, “How can we let him into our lives when we don’t know if he is here to stay? When we don’t know if he is going to break your and Stella’s hearts?” She understands her parents' fear. They were so supportive of her pregnancy and continuing school. They knew how much she struggled with the decision not to tell Rafe because of the rumours of who he was and with being a single mother in general. And it’s understandable that they don’t want to go through that all over again. However, Y/N has seen the effort Rafe has put into changing and her parents need to give him a chance to prove that to them. “Yes, he may have needed to get sober before he met Stella. But he worked hard to do so and I’m proud of him. Watch how great he is with Stella. It will show you how great of a father he is,” she promises. 

They take their daughter’s word into consideration and watch as Rafe approaches his step-mom, sisters and daughter. Stella jumps into her father’s arms, “Daddy, can I open my present from you, please? It looks so pretty.” Rafe hates to tell her no, but he knows what Y/N would want him to say. “Little witch, if it was just me and you today, then of course you can,” he begins to explain. “But we are at your birthday party and it would be rude to open just one gift at the beginning. Before we played the games, had dinner and cut the cake. I promise when Mommy says it is time to open presents, you can open my gift first.” The little girl takes a second to consider what her dad said. She nods her head and runs off to play with her friends. 

Y/N’s parents are impressed by how Rafe handled the situation. They can’t deny he was great with their granddaughter and decide they should apologize for how they were treating him. They approach him with a timid smile. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, is there anything I can help you with?” he asks, looking excited because he may or may not have overheard their conversation with Y/N. Mallory gives an apologetic look, “Please, call us Mallory and Winston. We are here to say sorry for how we’ve been treating you. We couldn’t see that you changed before. You really are amazing with Stella.” “You are and we’d like to get to know you more in a more suitable environment. How about you come over for dinner tomorrow?” Winston offers. Rafe is overjoyed with their sudden change, “I would love that. If it is not too much trouble for you guys, then I would love to make your family dinner at my place in the Outer Banks.” “Winston and I would love that.” 

——

Stella sits with her presents surrounding her. Her excitement to open them all warms everyone’s hearts. “Which one do you want to open first, Baby?” Y/N inquiries, looking at all the bigger boxes Stella will probably want to open. Stella picks a more medium-sized box, “This one is Daddy’s. He said I can open it first.” She looks at her mother to confirm she is allowed to open the gift and immediately rips the dark purple paper apart when she gets the confirmation. The paper beneath shows a lavender cardboard box closed with packing tape. She struggles with pulling the flaps of the box open and looks up at her dad with pleading eyes. “Please, Daddy, help me open it.” Rafe jogs over to his little witch and pulls it open for her. 

He wraps his arms around her waist to lift her up, so she can see into the box. She pulls the tissue paper out of the box and pulls out the fluffy black stuffed cat. Her squeal is deafening, but her eyes widen at the pretty Taurus constellation necklace the cat is wearing as a collar. Each star is a small diamond. Y/N’s eyes bulge at the sight as well, knowing the necklace is expensive. She wants to demand that he takes it back, but she doesn’t want to ruin this bonding moment between the father and daughter. “Daddy, can you put it on for me, please?” she questions, holding it up to him. He gives her a kiss on the temple, “Of course. I want you to remember how much I love you every time you wear it. And know that whenever I look up to the stars, I’m thinking about you, little witch.” 

——

“Thank you so much for watching her. Benny got into a little trouble and uhh… he definitely isn’t in a place that I should take Stells. And my parents can’t get him because they are doing some college tours with Joshua,” Y/N thanks, getting ready to leave. She looks over her shoulder to see Rafe holding Stella in his arms, “Are you guys going to be okay? I know that this is the first time you are going to be watching her.” “We are going to be great! I promise I got this and if I need you, then I got your number,” Rafe guarantees, looking at Stella for backup. She gives him a grin, “Yeah. Now, go help Uncle Benny so I can spend time with Daddy.” Y/N shakes her head at her daughter chasing her out of her own house. “Okay, I’m going. Bye, I love you,” Y/N says, running out of the door. Rafe stops himself from returning her words when Stella cries out, “I love you too, Mommy.” He remembers that Y/N doesn’t love him, she loves her daughter. 

Once Y/N is out of sight, he closes the door and looks at his daughter. “So what do you want to do, little witch?” She gives it a thought before answering, “Let’s make popcorn and then watch a movie!” Rafe laughs at her excitement and brings them to the kitchen. He places her on the counter, so he can go looking for the popcorn. Y/N doesn’t have microwave popcorn, instead, she has just the kernels in a glass jar. He looks around for a popcorn machine, but it goes unfound. “Where does Mommy keep the popcorn machine?” he inquires, opening up a different cabinet to check. Stella gives him an inquisitive look, “Popcorn machine? Mommy makes it on the stove.” This makes Rafe pause because he has never made popcorn on the stove. “Do we really need popcorn? We can have chips instead,” he suggests. She shakes her tiny head, “We always have popcorn when we watch a movie.” “Okay, but you are going to have to help Daddy,” he gives in, taking the kernel jar and bringing her closer to the stove. He gets a pot, holding it up to his daughter, “Is this big enough?” 

“Yes, that’s the one Mommy uses. She uses the oil in that bottle and uses the blue spoon to put some oil in the pan.” Under her guidance, Rafe gets the olive oil and finds the blue spoon, which is a tablespoon measuring cup. He has to sneak a look at a recipe on his phone to check how many tablespoons of oils he needs, so Stella doesn’t think she is doing a bad job at explaining to him. She continues to instruct him on how to make it and when it starts popping he jumps a little. Stella giggles at her father’s fear, “Daddy, you got scared!” He exaggerates his surprise to keep her laughing. “I did. Can you cuddle Daddy to make him less scared?” he begs, moving closer so she can wrap her arms around his neck.

The popcorn finishes popping and he lets her put as much white cheddar topping as she wants. Rafe goes to examine their DVD collection and an unmarked box catches his attention. He pulls it off of the shelf, opening it up to reveal: The Love I Used To Have, starring Y/N Y/L/N. His mouth turns into a grin and he holds the box up to his daughter. “Do you want to watch this? Your mommy is in it,” he suggests to the toddler. Her excitement shines through and she jumps up and down while clapping. “Yes, yes. I want to see Mommy in a movie.” They get settled on the couch with her nestled under his arm. Stella pops some of the popcorn into his mouth and he has to stop himself from cringing at the amount of white cheddar in his mouth. “Hmm, this is really good, little witch. Good job,” he praises, giving her a smile. She grins at his words and eats some herself. He turns on the movie and they begin to watch.

The title of the short film fades onto the screen, disappearing to reveal the close-up of an eye crying. Rafe instantly recognizes it. How could he not when the image of those eyes rolling while he goes down on her is what haunts his dreams? Y/N’s eyes blink and the shot changes to a wide shot of her at a cemetery. “That’s Mommy,” Stella identifies with her finger pointed toward the screen. He kisses her head, “It is.” 

As the short film progresses, Rafe is blown away by Y/N’s acting talents. She is able to evoke the feeling of loss from him so easily and he truly feels like he is experiencing falling in love with her co-star and then losing her. He may not have lost Y/N in the same way as her character, but the emotion she displays makes it easy for him to match his loss with hers. It makes him want to ask her if she did have someone she loves die and if that is the feeling she is tapping into for this project. The movie comes to an end and he brushes his tears away to hide them from Stella. “Mommy is good at acting,” she whispers, looking up at her father, who can only nod in agreement. 

——

The rest of the afternoon turned into a Halloweentown marathon and halfway through movie number three, they had to pause for a second to wait for the food they ordered. Stella is held in his arms, playing with the gold chain around her father’s neck. “Daddy,” she catches his attention. He hums to show that he is listening. “Do you love me?” Rafe’s eyes stop looking out the open door to look at her, “Of course I love you.”

“Forever?”

“Little witch, I love you forever and always.”

The elation in her eyes makes him happy and she rests her head on his chest with a sigh, “I love you forever and always too.” 

——

Y/N comes home to find Stella asleep in Rafe’s hold while his focus is completely on the TV. He is so invested in Return to Halloweentown that he doesn’t notice Y/N walk in. “How is Marnie going to get herself out of this pickle?” he whispers to himself. Y/N joins him on the couch, “Don’t worry, she will.” Rafe, for the second time today, jumps out of his seat, but a little softer with Stella in his arms. “I did not see you come in. Is Benedict okay?” he leans in to ask so as to not wake up the sleeping girl. 

“Yeah, he got off with a warning this time. The police just wanted someone to pick him up so he wouldn't do it again. The paperwork was a nightmare though.”

“That’s bureaucracy, Buttercup. Let me just help you get her to bed and I’ll head out.”

Rafe lifts himself off the couch and at the movement, Stella wakes up. “Mommy, you’re home,” she mutters in a tired voice. Y/N smoothes the girl’s muddy hair down, “I am, Baby. Why don’t we go to bed and say goodbye to Daddy?” Stella hasn’t forgotten her plan to help her father out with her mother and decides this is the perfect time to put it into motion. “But I want Daddy to sleep over. Mommy, it’s so late,” she draws out the last vowel. Y/N gives her a tight-lipped shake of the head, “I know, but Daddy has to go home, Stells.”

 “NO! I want Daddy to stay.”

“Stella Rachel Y/L/N. I said Daddy can’t. Now, go get ready for bed.”

Stella disobeys her mother and continues to cry her head off. Y/N starts biting her nails, trying to think of how to handle this situation. Rafe can see how tired Y/N is and wants to help. “I can sleep over if you want. I don’t mind taking the couch,” he offers. At her father’s words, Stella’s cries continued, “No, I want Daddy to sleep with me in Mommy’s room with Mommy.” He doesn’t know how to help Y/N with that. Y/N is too tired to argue at this point and gives in to her daughter’s wants, “Okay, he can stay with us.” Stella’s screams immediately stop. She gets off of the couch and goes to get ready for bed. “Did I just get tricked by my four-year-old?” Y/N ponders, turning toward Rafe. He gives her a shrug, “If it makes you feel better, I thought she was having a real tantrum.”

——

Y/N and Rafe stare at each other awkwardly from over Stella’s head. She had insisted that she sleep sandwiched between the pair and that they hugged each other while they slept. Rafe never thought he would be in Y/N’s bed; he doesn’t really know what to make of it, but he isn’t complaining. “I’m sorry she threw a tantrum and now you have to sleep here,” Y/N murmurs, smoothing down Stella’s hair. He gives her a smile, “It’s okay. I have nowhere to be tomorrow. Plus, I like being here for our daughter.” “That’s great. I know she loves it when you are here,” she confesses. His eyes find the ones that were on the TV screen a few hours ago, “How come you never tried to get your big break at acting? I know you couldn’t move out to LA or New York because of the diner, but you could’ve still sent out self-tapes.” “It wouldn’t have been practical with Stella. I needed a steady income and acting couldn’t provide me with the stability I needed for her,” she explains, fidgeting with her nails under the blanket. 

“But you are such a good actress. It is your dream.”

“It was my dream, Rafe. But I was going to have a baby and she became my priority.”

Rafe wishes that he could’ve been there when Stella was born, then maybe Y/N wouldn’t have had to leave her dream behind. He promises to himself that he will help bring stability to his little family so that Y/N can chase after what she genuinely wants in life. He goes to express that feeling but finds Y/N’s eyes closed. Her soft snores are an indication he isn’t going to get an answer. “I love you both. Forever and always,” he vows, kissing them both on the cheek. 

——

The next morning, Rafe is the first to wake up and he decides to make breakfast for his girls. He wants to help alleviate some of Y/N’s stress because that’s what one does for the people one loves. It may be a little early to say he loves her, but just being with her makes him happy and he has never felt his way before. He should ask her out on a date. Stella and Y/N find Rafe cooking waffles for everyone. Their little girl goes running to him and wraps herself in his legs. “Good morning, Daddy! Can I have some waffles too, please?” He moves away from the waffle maker, kneeling to return her hug, “Of course, little witch. I’m making food for everyone. Why don’t you go sit at the table? There is some bacon already there. This is the last waffle that I need to make.” “Okay. Thank you, Daddy! Forever and always,” she yells. She runs back to the table and Y/N gives him a confused look. “Forever and always? What does she mean by that?” she probes, coming closer to him. He looks over at her with a smile, “She asked me yesterday if I loved her. And I said forever and always. I guess that’s how she is saying I love you now.”

“Oh, that’s cute. You didn’t have to make breakfast, Button. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buttercup. This may not be my house, but Stella is my responsibility too. Making sure she is fed is a part of my duties.”

The family eats breakfast in harmony with each other like they have always been together since Stella was born. She would do adorable things that would warm her parents’ hearts and they would do piney things that would give her hope. Y/N is washing the dishes while Rafe and Stella hang out at the table. “Daddy, you should ask Mommy out on a date,” Stella advises in a hushed tone. His eyebrow darts at his daughter’s words, “And what do you know about dates, little witch?” 

“Mommy and I watch lots of Hallmark movies. You look at each other like they do in the movies.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, and you smile whenever you see her. And try to touch her hand.” 

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Little does she know that her dad has already thought about it and is planning on doing it once her hearing ears are out of the room. 

——

Stella is in the bathroom, pooping as she announced to her parents. This leaves Y/N and Rafe alone in the living room waiting to see if she is going to need any help. Rafe finds the chain of his watch, playing with the link of the golden band, “I was thinking… maybe we could go mini golfing sometime and then we could go to dinner.” “Oh, that’d be great. Stella loves mini golfing. She says it’s like a tiny world perfect for kids,” she informs, giving him a smile.

“Actually, I was thinking it could be a date.” 

Her smile falls and Rafe feels as though his world stopped turning. “Rafe, I like you. I really do, but I don’t think we should date,” she breaks his heart with those words. “Some people suggest that you shouldn’t date when you are just getting sober. It’s not that I don’t believe you will stay sober. It’s that I think it would be better to focus on your sobriety and Stella.” He quickly nods his head, wanting to move past this awkward moment, “Right, I understand.” “Yeah, you are such a great dad to Stella and I really appreciate the effort you put into being with her. I hope you know that.” Their daughter’s call for help with wiping her butt causes Y/N to leave him alone in the room. He knows what she said makes sense and he probably shouldn’t jump head-first into another new commitment. But it still doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach at her no. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya

[4doras]

A NIGHT WITH YOU ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

what happens when you meet a black cat while trick or treating? ⊹♡

taesan x f!reader | strangers to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 0.8k

a/n. wrote this for halloween but i don't know if its enough so i might write another fic ><

you planned to stay inside this halloween, no different to the years before. you happily laid on your bed, scrolling on your phone.

“y/n?” your mother knocked on your door. “can you please go out this year? you can wear something simple.” your mom pleaded.

“something simple like what? i have nothing to wear.” you groaned.

“you could be a black cat. just wear a black outfit and cat ears.” she suggested.

“fine.”

a black cat, isn’t that unlucky?

more under the cut!

you wore a black shirt and skirt, paired with a cat ear headband. you drew whiskers on each side of your cheek and a circle on the tip of your nose. you found an old pumpkin basket and left the house.

you knocked on the close houses, collecting a few pieces of candy every time. you knocked on house 400, instead of the usual parent or grandparent, a boy around your age opened the door. he was also wearing a black cat outfit, as simple as yours but without the headband, his hair managed to stick in a way that looked like cat ears. maybe he really was a black cat.

“h-hey.” he stuttered.

“hi.” you responded, taken aback from the person in the door.

“taesan! what’s taking you so long? just give out the candy.” you heard a voice coming from inside getting louder. “oh! you’re y/n, right? i’m friends with your mother!” someone who looked like the black cat's mother walked up to the door.

“yeah, that’s me.” you bowed as you greeted his mother.

“you’re so pretty! do you want to come inside? you and taesan can become friends.” she held her son's shoulder tightly, making him quietly wince at the pain.

“of course.”

you followed the boy up to his room, which was well kept. it smelled really nice, too.

“you can sit on my bed if you want. i don’t mind.” he said, plopping himself onto the bed. “i’m taesan, by the way. han taesan.” he looked at you with his big eyes. he really was like a cat.

“i’m y/n. l/n y/n.” you introduced yourself. “you like music?” you scanned the room, it was decorated with posters, vinyls and a guitar.

he turned to you like a cat hearing its favorite word. “mhm, i play the guitar too.”

“what’s your favorite band?”

“i like The Beatles and My Chemical Romance.” he seemed so happy to talk about his interests, he really fit the cat persona. “i can play something for you.” he smiled.

“only if you’re good.”

“don’t pressure me.” he sulked.

he sang and played the guitar for a few minutes before stopping, burying his face in his hands.

“what’s wrong?” you said, concerned.

“it’s embarrassing…” he mumbled in his hands.

“no it’s not, you’re really good.” you tried to pull his hand away from his face. he removed his hands, looking you straight in the eyes. his eyes shone in the dim room, it was weird. you could see stars in his eyes. “seriously, taesan. it was good!” you giggled, brushing a piece of hair out of his face. a red glow forming on his cheeks.

“well, tell me about you, now.” he sat up straight.

“i don’t know… i don't do anything interesting.” you thought for a bit.

“there has to be something.” he tilted his head.

“there really isn’t, taesan.” you tilted your head as well, mirroring him.

“then i guess i’ll have to get to know you, hm?” he grinned

considering you two would be staying inside, you both removed your makeup and showered. taesan let you wear his clothes for the time being. though, they were huge on you. taesan came out of the shower and stared you down.

“you look cute, my clothes are so big on you.” he laughed.

“shut up!” you pushed his arm.

“you look cute,” three words that stayed in your head the whole night. that, and the smell of taesans shampoo was all you could think about. taesan had a twin size bed that you both squished on. taesan snuggled into your shoulder, trying to get comfortable. you could smell his shampoo with how close he was. his clothes smelt like fabric softener. his room was so cozy, and so was he. you let your hand linger in his hair, gently playing with it. what you didn’t realize was that taesan was wide awake. he didn’t dare move an inch in case you stopped. his heart was racing, the whole atmosphere engulfing him like a warm blanket.

when you woke up, taesans arm was sprawled across your body, keeping you against the bed.

“taesan? i can’t get up if your arm is on me.” you poked his arm.

“just five minutes…” he held you closer, hugging you tightly.

maybe black cats aren’t so unlucky.

[choose-wiselyyy]

he’s ok

—Close ups below the cut

[yaksha-lover]

Pink in the Night

i’ve always wanted to write a soulmate au :)

Malleus Draconia x Reader

wc: 5.9k

cw: reader is yuu, major character death, descriptions of violence/injury, mentions of fae heat (brief, sfw), pmmm inspired, yandere-ish

For the first few hundred years of his life, Malleus is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate. While other children gleefully show off small scrapes and bruises that magically appear on their skin, Malleus’ own remained blemish free. He wonders if perhaps his soulmate is simply being considerate; trying to save him from harm by living a careful life.

He remembers when Silver first got a scrape on his knee, how the seven-year-old had started crying when it appeared. Lilia had consoled him and taken care of the injury, telling his son what it meant. By the end, young Silver had shed tears of excitement for the future.

A bittersweet feeling climbed Malleus’ throat at Lilia’s words to his son - fate, destiny, soulmates - it seemed the world had simply forgotten about him. Perhaps that was his destiny: to rule Briar Valley undistracted and alone, concentrating only on his kingdom. While uncommon, it wasn’t impossible - there certainly existed some unlucky enough to be born without one.

Five hundred years later and the time in which Malleus wished for a soulmate has long passed. The thought rarely crossed his mind anymore - it was no different than any other loneliness he’d felt it in his life. Unlike other children, he’d grown up without his parents. Just the same, he’d do fine without a soulmate.

The morning of NRC’s orientation on his third year, Malleus feels a sharp scratch on his arm, like that of the cat which had scratched him as a child when attempting to flee his touch. It’s faint and quick, and his fae blood means any visible mark is gone within a second. Malleus pulls down his sleeve anyway, eyes scrolling over the area of his wrist where he’d felt it. His pale flesh is as unblemished as ever; he almost feels like he’s hallucinated it.

The feeling leaves him in thought and he decides to take a walk on campus. Absorbed by the morning’s events, Malleus barely takes notice of the bustling of the students around him, all preparing for something he can’t quite remember; he makes a note to ask Lilia about it later.

Malleus walks until that the sky darkens into a deep azure. The tranquility of nature is soothing to him; he feels like just another one of the trees. The birds chirp freely in his presence, uninhibited by fear or distaste. Eventually he runs into Shroud, talking to himself in the courtyard. Malleus is almost pleased at the encounter: him and his fellow dorm leader seeking to find peace in similar ways.

The pleasantries are quickly dispelled when he realizes Idia is dressed in his black ceremonial robes. Malleus is confused, and Shroud quickly becomes defensive when he questions his choice. He does not struggle with the idea for too long. Malleus figures that perhaps there are things that fae and humans simply cannot understand about each other.

His day is quickly soured when Lilia informs him that he’s missed the school’s ceremony again. The distraction of another lost opportunity means he forgets all about the strange incident from the morning.

*

Time passes quickly for Malleus, it always has. He blinks and Heartslabyul’s dorm leader has overblotted. He blinks again and another Spelldrive tournament approaches.

Another late night, Malleus escapes Diasomnia dorm to take a walk by himself. He only has so long before Sebek realizes he is gone, so the prince makes haste to his usual spot.

Ramshackle reminds him of why he enjoys nature: it is another place where Malleus can simply exist amongst the gargoyles, where his presence causes no disturbance and nothing to change. It seems this kind of peace can only exist for him in places abandoned by others.

The solitude he’s enjoyed so long is shattered when this time, the dorm is not empty. A child of man walks out from the gates of the dorm, rubbing their eyes and dressed in simple clothing.

You seem as surprised to see him as he is by you. It catches Malleus even further by surprise that you do not cower at his appearance.

You offer your name, and Malleus finds it unusual. He is certainly well read, having been educated on all major parts of the world since he was a child (it wouldn’t do well for a prince to be aware of only his own kingdom), and yet, he has never heard of your name. He doesn’t dwell on the details, certainly it could be the mistake of the outdated nature of Briar Valley’s texts.

Malleus decides not to offer you his own name. He wonders if perhaps keeping it to himself would help maintain the serenity of Ramshackle; without his name, perhaps you will still treat him as just another person. He silently mourns the loss of this space, and vows to find more ruins in which he can find peace.

*

The next time Malleus sees you, you call him ‘Tsunotaro,’ and he laughs for the first time in a while. He’d thought maybe you were bluffing last time, pretending not to know who he really was. Your bravery to call him by this nickname is delightfully baffling.

You tell him about Azul and the contract, and Malleus almost feels sorry for how pitiful and doe-eyed you look. It’s not as though he can’t understand the sentiment. In a way, he’s grown fond of Ramshackle too. He leaves you with words of encouragement and disappears into the night.

*

Three days later, Malleus drops to his knees in his room, feeling like his bones are being crushed into dust. The pressure is so overwhelming he passed out.

He awakens on the bed of his room, with Sebek standing by his bedside. As soon as the half-fae sees his eyes flutter, Sebek is yelling out for Lilia and Silver to come. Malleus groans at Sebek’s loudness and lightly chastises him. He immediately apologizes in a softer tone as the two others come rushing in.

The prince moves his arms and legs, relieved to find them in tact. Although he feels sore, his bones and tissue are not fractured and split as he worried. He wonders if he’s dreamt the pain; it feels like a distant memory. The only thing that remains is a sort of empty pit in his stomach, but he supposes it’s likely because he hasn’t eaten. Lilia checks up on Malleus, pressing his small hand to his forehead.

‘Strange’, his guardian remarks. ‘A fae’s first heat is often painful, but it shouldn’t have been for someone like you. Well, at least it seems you slept through the worst of it.’

Malleus isn’t sure what it should feel like, but the crushing of bones definitely seems extreme. Still, he accepts Lilia’s explanation for his condition easy enough. He retained no actual injury, so there doesn’t seem to be any explanation other than his own body.

*

When Malleus feels well enough to return to his duties as housewarden, Lilia explains the situation he had been hiding from Malleus while he was in his incapacitated state.

It seems Ashengrotto was more dangerous than Malleus gave him credit for. Kingscholar and a few other students had stopped his overblot, but during the fight, destruction to the nearby dorm building caused a student to be crushed and killed.

Lilia explains the chaos that the school has been thrown into while he’s been asleep, the attempt at damage control by Crowley, and Azul’s further breakdown once he’d realized what he’d done.

Ashengrotto was hardly Malleus’ favourite fellow housewarden, but his situation was terribly sad. He knew, despite his greediness and flaws, that Azul was not a bad person.

*

As he walks around campus, the courtyard is empty of students. Malleus loves the quiet, but not like this. This kind of quiet is constrictive, like oxygen has left the air and Malleus can no longer breathe. He spots a single student walk down the hall, so distracted that he fails to even notice Malleus as he walks past.

The next few days pass in a similar silence. It seems even those who did not know the student who was killed are shaken by the event. Ashengrotto has left the school and gone home; Malleus isn’t sure if it was by choice or not.

Lilia encourages Malleus to attend the vigil for the student who died, stating his attendance to be important both as a housewarden and the future king of Briar Valley.

The two of them walk to the vigil, accompanied by Silver and Sebek. Malleus is so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize they’ve walked the path to Ramshackle dorm.

It’s then that he spots the giant picture of you, printed on a canvas, set in front of the dorm gates. You smile in the picture, but he can tell you were caught off guard by whoever took the picture. It’s not unflattering, but he’s surprised they chose that one. It seems more like a causal picture taken by a friend than one meant for a funeral. When he asks Cater later on, he’ll learn it was one of the few anyone had of you. The picture is surrounded by white candles, probably twenty or so.

Blue hair catches his eye and Malleus notices the two freshman boys he’d occasionally spot with you standing off to the side of the portrait. The redhead keeps his gaze cast down, but the blue-haired boy is unable to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. Malleus imagines if he was any closer, he’d be able to hear the soft sobs spill from his lips.

Malleus doesn’t realize he’s stopped walking until Lilia is ushering him quietly to stand behind the crowd. At his height, he’s still able to see over the rest of the students. A blur of grey flashes by his eyes as something runs between legs to the front of the crowd.

Grim sits frozen at the bottom of your portrait for a moment, the rest of the students going silent as they watch him. Malleus notices Leona standing off to the side of the crowd beside Ruggie, the two of them looking as glum as he’s seen; it’s strange for him to see the prince without his usual smirk or sneer.

The cry that breaks the silence a moment later replays in Malleus’ head for days. Grim’s grief at your death haunts him; the more he remembers it, the more the pit in his stomach grows.

It’s the pity that sets Malleus on his next decision. This experience, this loss the campus has faced has undeniably changed things. He feels sorry for you and your friends, of course, but mostly Malleus hates the silence he can no longer escape.

Malleus doesn’t bother telling Lilia; his guardian would likely try to stop him, but Malleus knows he’s in no danger. His grandmother had given him the magic shield only because she knew he could handle it.

The prince straps the small, metal shield to his wrist, before spinning it’s round edges until it aligns with his designated mark.

*

Malleus finds himself two days before Azul’s overblot. He knows he’ll have to do something before his heat becomes too much of an issue for him to intervene. The fae sneaks away from his guards in the middle of the night to place magic-resistance charms on the Octavinelle building; he hopes it’ll be enough to prevent your death and all its fallout.

The next two days play out just as before. Malleus finds this part of time-hopping quite tedious; the repetitive nature of reliving the same days over and over again. Although he supposes it isn’t much different than how he normally feels through the school year. Without extra events to attend, his routine is rather simple. Unchanging, even. That is the life of a fae as old as him; every day feels the same.

Some minor things feel a bit different than before: Malleus hadn’t remembered Kingscholar glaring at him from across the hall the last time around. The behaviour isn’t unusual for Leona, so Malleus doesn’t think too hard about it.

Malleus mentions to Lilia about his ‘bad feeling’ regarding Ashengrotto; he hopes it will be enough to entice him to keep watch of the situation while Malleus is forced to stay in his room and face his heat.

The prince waits in his room, staring at his stone ceiling. He anticipates the pain, but as the sky turns dark and his room is only lit by candlelight, nothing comes. His bones do not crush and his head does not splinter. He wonders if he’s made a mistake; could casting a simple spell and telling Lilia about the incident change enough to not have his heat come?

*

Malleus goes to see you once more after Ashengrotto is dealt with. He doesn’t expect to feel so…strange seeing you alive again. You thank him for the advice he’d never intended, but he can’t help but feel an unusual happiness at hearing you bring up the gargoyles.

He doesn’t see you for a while after that, but it’s difficult not to think of you. Things become busy, and so he sends you a holiday card to make up for his lack of visits. He feels oddly upset at your lack of reply. Perhaps you’ve discovered his identity and no longer wish…Malleus perishes the thought and resolves himself to return to your dorm when he can.

*

The next time you meet, snow covers the ground around Ramshackle. Something else has changed too; you look happy. He finds that the faint red that dusts your cheeks and nips at your nose… it becomes you.

When you pass him the tickets, Malleus starts to hear his pulse ring in his ears. Surely he’s misunderstood your intent? Your casual demeanour does nothing to quell his surprise.

Malleus composed himself before thanking you and promising to attend. He goes back to Diasomnia and makes Sebek vow to ensure he makes it there. He hates to use the half-fae’s devotion for his personal needs, but Malleus refuses to disrespect you by failing to attend the first event he’s been personally invited to since coming the NRC.

There’s still days before the event, but Malleus can’t stop thinking about the encounter. He is…ambivalent about you. In a way, you’ve given him hope and that is much worst than those like Kingscholar who outright reject his presence. You don’t know him, and so you do not fear him. Is it truly possible that his name and his position is all that keeps others away? Or perhaps you are special; Malleus allows himself to believe for a moment that you might accept him anyway, before banishing the thought to somewhere it will not harm him.

*

The day of the SDC, Sebek reminds him repeatedly of it’s time, and insists on guiding him to the event. Malleus declines Sebek’s request when he happens to feel a dull pain shoot against his shoulder, like he’s been hit by something heavy. He checks his body but no bruise colours his skin. Still, Malleus grows increasingly restless as he wonders, so decides to head over early.

This time, he watches your death in real time.

Schoenheit’s overblot form rages above you all. Malleus approaches the group, intending to step in, but sees the release of the poison mist a second too late. As the purple haze consumes your body, Malleus feels an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. When you fall to the ground, he feels his limbs grow weak and heavy. Suddenly, any pain is gone, and you have grown still.

The others are distracted by subduing Vil, not yet noticing your fallen form behind them. Malleus approaches you silently, and his stomach begins to turn the closer he gets. When he catches sight of the blood trailing down your left shoulder, he does not stop to help the students that now call his name.

*

Malleus turns his shield and he’s back in his room. He’s left himself a couple days before the SDC, just enough time to fix things.

Malleus wonders if you have any idea that he is your soulmate. He wonders how you would feel. Pleased? Ambivalent? Afraid?

He pauses on the last possibility and stays there until he is overwhelmed by a tight feeling in his stomach.

Part of him is angry as well. Malleus is one of the most powerful mages in this world, but the universe has decided his fate was to be bonded to a fragile human, and a magicless one at that.

He dismisses the thought as soon as it comes. No, it all makes sense. Malleus is strong precisely because you are weak; he was made to keep you safe, to protect you from anything that would seek to harm you. He knows that now.

If destiny has ensured you be bonded together, he will ensure it is forever.

*

Malleus sees you again, but now he only watches from afar. It’s strange to see you in this new light.

You are his soulmate. Someone the universe designed for him; someone who would be forced to accept him.

He casts a spell of invisibility as he approaches you, sitting outside Ramshackle with Grim. The two of you bicker gently, but Malleus is too focused on his goal to really notice. He casts charms of protection and invulnerability on you, and slips away as quickly as he can.

Malleus intends to leave, but he’s held in place by the sound of your laughter; it rings free and clear. He flees the scene before he can think too long about why the sound replays in his mind.

*

When the day of the SDC finally comes once again, Malleus is sure to enter the stadium early enough to sit in the shadows in case he needs to intervene.

His protection spells work as intended, and he only reveals itself when it’s time to reconstruct the stadium - he still has a show to watch, after all.

The others’ shock at your friendliness with him is quite amusing. Malleus imagines the surprise they’d feel if they knew you were his soulmate too.

Although he hadn’t really wanted to do it this way, Malleus figured that it’s necessary to reveal his real identity to you now; if you are to be his forever, there’s no reason to spare you the details.

Your continued use of the former nickname you’d given him pleases Malleus. It confirms to him what he’d believed - soulmates were obligated to love each other, no matter what. Even the fearful reactions of your friends did not serve to deter you from him. How could they? The two of you were meant to be.

*

In the days following the SDC, Malleus contemplates how to tell you that the two of you are soulmates. The matter is rather delicate and although the two of you are in a good place, he’d rather not reverse his progress.

He decides to consult Lilia, who is both surprised and overjoyed when Malleus shares the news. His guardian advises him not to rush into things, but rather to begin a courting process before revealing the truth, so as to not scare you away. Unfortunately, Malleus doesn’t have much experience in the area.

His first strategy is one traditional of his family; the giving of gifts over a period of seven days. Malleus sends letters back to Briar Valley to bring him the most expensive and desirable collection of jewelry and artifacts in the royal family’s care. Malleus’ grandmother writes back in congratulations and sends what he requested.

Unfortunately, he failed to account for the cultural differences between fae and humans. One night as he stops to chat with you outside Ramshackle, you pull out one of the gifts he’d left at your doorstep: an ancient necklace, said to be blessed by the original thorn fairy herself.

Malleus prepares himself to finally reveal the truth to you, excited that you’ve finally acknowledged his courting.

Then you tell him that you’re afraid you have a stalker and ask if he’s seen anyone lurking around Ramshackle, claiming that ‘cursed’ objects have been left anonymously at your doorstep.

Malleus takes a moment to compose himself (it’s a little rude of you to call his gift ‘cursed’) before promising to keep a look out.

He goes to Silver that very night to ask him about human courting rituals. Silver explains the concept of ‘dating’ to Malleus, and that night, the prince asks you to accompany him to dinner at the Mostro Lounge.

Malleus feels the excitement bloom in his chest when, after walking you home from dinner, you ask him to attend a play with you the following week.

*

The two of you go on many dates, until he’s begun spending the free time he has at Ramshackle.

Sitting on your couch, he makes a mental note to make renovations to some of the older furniture when he has a chance. He’d like to preserve the ruins look of the building, but not at the cost of your discomfort.

The doorbell rings, and you’re jumping off the couch to answer the door. Ace and Deuce stand outside with bags of snacks in hand. They smile at you, but just a bit of that happiness drops at the sight of him on the couch.

Your best friends haven’t exactly taken well to his newfound presence. The feeling isn’t entirely not mutual - it’s them who should apologize for taking so much of your time. You’re his soulmate after all, not theirs. You usher them inside and they take a seat on the chairs farthest from the couch.

“Sorry, Malleus, I totally forgot I made plans with them to come over earlier. Is it possible for us to watch the movie another time?”

“Of course, my love,” Malleus says, watching intently as your friends wince at the pet name. “I will see you tomorrow for tea with Lilia?”

At your nod, a small smirk rises to his face as he approaches you, dropping a small kiss on your lips as he departs. He notes the embarrassed and disgruntled look your friends faces; as much as he hates to let them see you in any intimate way, he needs them to know their place before he leaves.

*

One day, Malleus walks in on Deuce holding you. Your arms are awkwardly grasping at his shoulders, and he grips underneath your arms. It’s clear you’ve fallen, and yet Malleus can’t help but let the picture freeze in his mind; it burns into his memory.

Deuce helps you stand properly before the two of you let go of each other. You apologize and thank him awkwardly; the two of you haven’t even noticed him.

Malleus greets you from the doorway and both of you flinch in surprise. You gesture him inside, telling him all about the ‘funny story’ that just happened with Deuce.

He tries to sleep that night, but every time he closes his eyes, Malleus sees you in Deuce’s arms. He knows there’s nothing between you; it was an accident, and you love him after all.

*

Malleus makes the decision to reveal that he’s your soulmate the next time you two are alone. That happens to be two days later, once again on the Ramshackle couch.

He told you he wanted to discuss something serious, and he feels terrible at how anxious you look from across the table. Malleus wordlessly takes a small needle he’d brought with him and gently pricks his index finger.

You just stare at him, bewildered. Malleus takes your hand, flipping it palm-side up. No red pools on your finger, and no indentation appears either.

It’s his turn to stare in confusion. Every time you’ve been injured, he’s felt it. All your deaths, he’s felt. You’re human, you should not be healing this fast. He tells you as much.

“Is-Is this about soulmates, Malleus?” Your eyes flick up to his, voice wavering a bit. You glance back down to your lap as your hand rises to scratch at your neck. “In my world, we don’t have soulmates. I’m sorry, I should’ve been honest with you before, but I was worried that if you knew I wasn’t your soulmate that you wouldn’t want to be together anymore.”

The words echo in his ears, but he can’t understand them. A world without soulmates…? But how?

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but will you prick your finger. Just a tiny amount will do.”

“Malleus, I-“

“And please, keep an eye on my hand.”

You frown but nod. You prick your hand, wincing at the sensation, eyes flicking down to his own finger, eyes taking in the slight prick that appeared before quickly closing.

Malleus holds his breath as your face blooms into a myriad of emotions: confusion, shock, uncertainty, and finally a smile.

You launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in his very first kiss, and for once, Malleus does not think. He only feels the brush of your soft lips against his own inexperienced ones, following your lead. The moment lasts forever in his mind, but you still pull away too soon.

“Malleus, I’m sorry you’re not my soulmate but I’m so happy you’re mine~”

Your words unsettle him, but before he can think of it too long, you pull him into another kiss.

*

Things pass normally for a few days; the two of you continue to go on dates and avoid the subject of soulmates.

Malleus fears the worst when the campus is invaded, but rushing over to Ramshackle, his anxiety is temporarily relieved at the sight of you still on campus. You cry to him about Grim and he frets over your injuries - however mild, any threat to you is worth dealing with.

He begs you to stay at Diasomnia since your dorm was destroyed but you refuse. You insist on staying at Ramshackle and even ask that he not stay alongside you, promising that you can handle yourself. Malleus almost does it anyway, but Lilia warns him to give you space in your grief and worry for Grim and your friends

*

He visits you one last time before he’s forced to stay with Diasomnia as their dorm leader. Malleus closes his eyes as he pulls you into his arms. Now that he’s had you close, being apart always feels like there’s something missing in his life, a lingering anxiety in the back of his mind that keeps scratching at his brain and ignoring the rational side of him.

The two of you stand in silence, wrapped around each other, until you pull away a couple minutes later. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you slip a pink, string bracelet on his arm, asking Malleus to keep it safe until you seem him again before encouraging him to return to help his dorm.

Malleus tries to leave but feels himself pause in the doorway. He looks back at you, sitting on your bed and staring at your phone, and gets a bad feeling.

It’s just paranoia, he rationalizes. You’ve been through so much, he can’t lose you again. But this time, you’re here and away from the action. Nothing will be able to harm you anymore while you’re on the same campus as him.

Malleus still silently casts a couple of protection spells on you before he takes his leave again.

*

He isn’t able to visit for some time after that, with his dorm leader responsibilities leaving him occupied. He knows your protection spells haven’t activated, so he tries to reassure himself while being away from you. He sends Lilia to check on you, and his guardian returns confirming your health.

Two days later, Malleus sits at a table with Lilia, Sebek, and Silver when he feels it. There is no pain, only a chill that seeps deep into his bones, stopping him mid-sentence. He feels everything at once: fear, despair, and finally, relief. The table remains silent as Malleus is struck with emotion, the others watching him in concern.

“Malleus? It is unbecoming for the future king of Briar Valley to be lost in thought mid-conversation.” Lilia speaks with a light-hearted tone, but Malleus barely hears him.

“Something is wrong with them. I know it,” Malleus whispers, mostly to himself. “No, no. They’re still on campus, that can’t be. You confirmed this yourself, right Lilia?”

Lilia’s pause kindles the fire of Malleus’ worst fear.

“I’m sorry, Malleus. They needed to help their friends, and they knew you would never allow it. But the rest of them are strong, I never thought-“

*

The confirmation comes three hours later when the rest of the students arrive back from the Island of Woe. Lilia and Malleus rush to the group of students gathered to greet their fellow dorm mates.

You are noticeably absent.

He barely hears their words, their explanation about your sacrifice, and your fall into the underworld.

He sees the shocked faces of the other students (even Kingscholar, lacking his usual smirk), and Lilia is ushering him away before he can even think about the wetness dripping down his cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye, Malleus sees Leona try to reach them, but they are too fast for him.

The tears come full force once they’ve teleported back to Diasomnia, but he does not sob. Malleus Draconia is not someone who cries. He wipes the wetness off his face, before turning to Lilia.

“We’ll need to wipe their memories as soon as possible. The future king of Briar Valley cannot be remembered to be so…emotional.”

The cold neutrality of Malleus’ tone shakes even Lilia. He continues to stand, staring at the wall in concentration.

Lilia places a hand on the prince’s shoulder: “Malleus, please sit down. You need to rest after what’s happened. The others can wait-“

“No, no, I won’t have to, I’ll go back again and fix things. It’s simple,” Malleus says, mostly to himself.

“Go back? Malleus, please, what are you saying?” Lilia grabs on to both of Malleus’ shoulders, but he does not break free of his conviction. “You don’t mean-“ Malleus’ lack of response confirms his suspicions. “That watch has never been meant to be used, Malleus! It was for world-ending emergencies, for a threat to your kingdom! You have no idea what you’ve done, the cost you’ve had to pay-“

“I’ll see you soon, Lilia, and all will be right again.”

“You don’t understand! If the prefect continues to die after you’ve already intervened, then that is fate! Nothing you do to change time will change the fact that they aren’t meant to survive.”

“…Change time? No, we’ve moved beyond that, Lilia. I’m not going to change time, I’m going to break it.”

-

“I will help the new prefect,” the student says. “I’ll show them to Ramshackle.”

You are sure that if Crowley’s face were not concealed by his mask it would be frozen in an expression of shock that mirrors the rest of the students.

“Uh, Draconia, that is very…kind of you, but it seems like a lot to trouble yourself with. You are very much needed here for orientation. Perhaps one of our vice housewardens might take care of it?” Crowley looks around but no one steps up to contradict this ‘Draconia.’

“I will be going now. Lilia, please handle the new students.”

Before anyone can further question his decision, Draconia puts a hand on your shoulder and guides you out of the room, leaving behind silence.

*

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Draconia? You think you can just- what, change the world to your perfect dream? Change time again and again just because of the prefect? These are people’s lives you’re playing with! We’re not here to be subjected to your stupid whims.”

Malleus turns around to face Leona.

“And what, pray tell, do you plan to do about it?”

“I’m not afraid of you, overgrown lizard. You know it isn’t right, forcing us to play these roles that you’ve designed. And the prefect? Forcing them to be with you? You think-”

“Do I need to remove those petty claws of yours, Kingscholar? In fact, I bet you barely remember why you’re here.”

Leona’s face tells all Malleus he needs to know: “I-I know you’ve done something. My head, it just won’t clear-”

“It’s best if you forget about it and play along. We wouldn’t want you to cause more problems for yourself and your friends. The prefect is easily upset - I wouldn’t want to have to do anything bad to keep the world perfect for my soulmate.”

“Hey Leona,” Ruggie says, jogging up to the group before noticing Malleus. He stays close to Leona as he whispers to him: “You got class in ten. You know Crewel will freak if you miss again.”

Leona glances back at Malleus before reluctantly following Ruggie.

*

You try to be subtle as you sneak glances at him, but you don’t think you’re very successful. You don’t have a clue why this- well you don’t know very much about him but considering everyone else’s reactions - probably very powerful fae has taken an interest in you. He doesn’t glance back as he walks in front of you. The two of you continue that way until you suddenly run into something hard. You squeak out an apology but Draconia does not turn around or explain why he’s stopped. His question breaks the silence.

“Are you happy, prefect?”

“…Happy? I-I mean, I don’t know. I have these memories but…something feels off. Something is missing or different and I have no idea what. The headmaster claims I was always a student here, I just had some kind of injury but - this person doesn’t feel like me. I know these halls but I was not the one to walk them. I feel- Ah, I’m so sorry! I don’t even know you, why am I going on like this! Please forgive me, uh, sorry again but I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Malleus,” he says, “Malleus Draconia.”

“Sorry Malleus. We can continue to…my dorm. Thank you for volunteering to take me.”

You wait for Malleus to continue walking down the hall, but he only turns around. You are taken aback by the piercing gaze of his eyes: he looks at you as though he is searching for something lost deep in you.

Malleus pulls a needle out of his robes, and you begin to sweat. He doesn’t look at you, only holding the needle to his hand before using it to prick his index finger.

You wince as you feel a prick on your own finger, swiping over the pooling blood with your thumb before looking back up at him in realization.

“You- You’re my soulmate? Malleus, that’s- How did you even know? Is this-”

You’re interrupted by a large form enveloping your body. Malleus’ arms squeeze you so tight it becomes harder to breathe. You struggle instinctively, wanting this stranger to stop smothering you. Regardless of being your soulmate, you barely know him.

He lets you go, pulling away before taking your wrist and slipping a string bracelet onto your arm.

“Everything is as it should be. There’s no need to worry, my soulmate, you are exactly where you should be, and with who you should be with.”

[slasherbvnnie]

Ordinary Love Story

Ghostface has his eye on you. You have your eye on someone else, someone who goes by the name Ethan Landry. The nerdy, curly haired boy who took your heart. Little do you know, he was one of three behind the mask.

Part II

Warnings: gore, dubcon, yandere-ish? ethan, somewhat naive reader,

Ethan Landry x f!reader

In his head, this was like any other love story. Boy goes to college, boy meets girl, girl befriends him, boy falls for girl, boy has a hard time making girl fall for him. But tonight, it was the first time you finally began to fall. When you saw him and his eyes locked onto yours, you felt that weakness in your knees. It wasn’t long before you fell, all because of him.

His eyes watched you, while everything around the two of you moved at a fast pace, his eyes slowed and focused on you. He took notice of the beads of sweat on your skin, the way your chest was heaving up and down- your struggle to breathe, he even noticed your piercing scream when he approached. Your arms flailed, trying desperately to fight him off as he stepped towards you. His hands grabbed your wrist, the black fabric leaving a stinging carpet burn against your skin at how tightly he held onto you. “Shut. Up,” The voice behind the mask seethed out, to you the words were filled with venom and a promise that you would be dead soon, to him- it broke everything in him to have such a tone when speaking to you.

You let out a cry, kicking your feet helplessly as his other hand clamped over your mouth. When you had stepped away from the group, you hadn’t expected to see a mangled guy in Quinn’s bathroom tub. You had to use the restroom and the others were taken in the apartment, so Quinn was your last resort, unlucky for you- this one was taken as well. Quinn was on the floor, you couldn’t even tell who’s blood was who’s, which only made you even more scared and nauseous. However, when you saw the masked figure in the corner, you fell on the bloodied tiled floor, and with no other experiences where you had to fight for your life, your bodied panicked and shut down. Panic attacks were common for you, you just wished that this once it had happened at a better time. “You want to survive, don’t you,” the killer asked, you barely understood them but nodded anyways.

“then shut the fuck up and play along,” they told you, your eyes darted to the black holes in their mask, searching for their eyes, searching for humanity. You weren’t lucky in finding it, your vision was blurred thanks to the adrenaline in your veins, so you stayed quiet and complied, hoping it would at least buy you time.

“Good girl,” a hummed praise made it’s way to your ears, you sucked in another breath as you felt their knife run across your body. “Don’t move,” they said, their voice once again harsh as they made tears in your clothes, their knife was still bloodied, leaving the warm liquid against your skin and clothes. “Just stay still for me, you’ll make it out alive,” another hum left them, another nod left you.

It seemed like a game, one a cat plays with a mouse, entertain your prey before the final killing strike. You didn’t know if they were toying with you, making you pliable and all that much more fun to kill when they see that look of betrayal on your face. What you never guessed however was their want to pull off the mask, to let you see his face when he told you everything would be okay, to promise to you that no one would harm you.

When he was done dressing you in the blood, making sure you looked like a proper victim of ghostface- one he didn’t get the chance to ruin yet- he got up. “Don’t make a fucking noise. One noise and you’re done, along with your friends,” they threatened, you nodded. You flinched as they cleaned the knife, a small chuckle leaving his lips. At that moment you two heard noises near the door, you closed your eyes, holding your hands over your mouth to ensure you wouldn’t let out a cry for help.

You heard the door open, screams, and the rest of your friends panicking.

It felt like hours passed by until you heard the sirens. You heard footsteps, you saw an officer. You saw him break down as he saw Quinn’s body along with the scene in the tub. Another officer helped you out of the room, you saw the black body bags being wheeled out of the apartment. It was a little longer until you saw the rest of the group, minus Anika.

Before you even had the chance to step out of the back of the ambulance and asked what happened, Ethan approached the group only to get manhandled and questioned by Chad. Your eyebrows raised in surprise at his accusatory tone, watching Ethan trip over his words and try to explain himself. At the mention of econ, you remembered the nerdy boy asked you a question about some of the assignments given to you, going up to Chad and placing your hand on his back. “He’s not lying, he asked me for help just an hour or something before, a-about econ,” you said, Chad looking at you with narrowed eyes before backing off of Ethan.

Ethan coughed, looking to you and moving closer. “Uh, thanks, I appreciate you helping me out of a beating,” he thanked you, making you smile slightly for the first time in hours. “Is…is everything okay, I mean. Obviously not but…” Ethan gave up on speaking, looking to you expectantly. You sighed, feeling your eyes well up with tears as you shrugged. “I mean, I’m…physically okay, they- it…it was weird,” you spoke, gaining his interest when he tilted his head up.

“weird,” he questioned, you nodded.

“They, they let me survive…this, the clothes- they’re not…from them stabbing me,” you explained, pointing to the tears and bloodied holes in your clothes. Ethan’s eyes tracked over your body, taking in the sight of you, his eyes sparkling as he looked you over. “Why?” He asked, you shrugged.

“I’m not sure…they just- told me to shut up and I would live,” a sigh escaped you as Ethan hummed, moving with you to the rest of the group. “I’m glad they let you live, it must’ve been hell last night for you,” he said as you brought your hand up to your face, wiping away your tears. “Yeah, felt like forever,” you said, leaning on his shoulder, feeling exhaustion take over you. He welcomed in the small touch, letting you rest against him, his hand slowly wrapping around you to help you stand. The rest of the group were talking, trading ideas on what to do, who it was, why they were targeting you guys. Even Ethan’s name came up a few times from Mindy and Chad, which didn’t sit easy in your stomach. You didn’t like their accusations, but at the same time it was hard to stomach the thought that the vicious killer was him.

“Shit, Ethan, can I use your phone? I had…I had a class today,” you asked, to which Ethan gladly gave his phone to you. You went to safari, going onto the school’s website and putting in your login information, not noticing that the one already logged in wasn’t under the name Ethan Landry.

[acupofinkedblood]

Hyperlaser x reader

Tw: Mentions of violence and death

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• The cold has never graced him with mercy, Hyperlaser is aware of it. How long has he been serving in Blackrock? How long has time went by ever since the last time he fought side by side with his comrades instead of these senseless machines? Blackrock’s snow is eternal, as unbothered with other’s pain as the heads of this faction. But even when the chill has never spared him a moment of peace, it brought him back to the time when he felt even just a hint of peace

• The snow brings him back to the memories of you

• Hyperlaser was born to be a weapon. His fate was sealed ever since he walked out of the Spawn fountain. Those days were hazy to him now, yet the pain was still there. He remembered going through various exams and enduring the gruesome beating whenever he messes up. He was just a child, but that child was doomed to grow up so fast ever since he made his way inside the training ground. Lucky — or maybe unlucky him — for Hyperlaser, his skill proved to be worthy enough to be kept around. How many people have died for him to have that spot? He didn’t remember anymore

• When he got to the mercenary group, it was then that he started to form a deep bound with the members there, who will accompany him on this journey. It was like a light at the end of tunnel. Those days could be nightmare to him, but he still had his friends — his comrades — by his side. As much as a loner he made himself to be, Hyperlaser knew that he had grown fond of this new group of his

• And among them, he remembered you the most

• You, who fought side by side with him when he was still a rookie mercenary. You, who looked out for him even when the toughest time fall upon him. You, one of his dearest comrades he has ever had the fortune to come across

• Even when the violence of this life had got to you, you have never let it get the best out of you. It was almost comical, how you went from such calm individual to a gruesome mercenary that followed orders. Hyperlaser knew that it was a do or die situation. After all, most of them were trying to survive in this line of work, and so did you. He understood you as well

• You were a pleasant memory in his mind. He enjoyed your company, or at the very least, he respected you and your skills. The two of you took your job seriously, as the feeling of the your life being hung up by a thread kept urging you to move forward. Yet perhaps it was why he felt drawn towards you. You never knew who is friend or foe in such jobs, but for some reason, he trusted his gut when calling you his close friend

• The bound between you two, ‘comradeship’ might be the word to describe it. You got each other’s back with no ulterior motives. It’s not like he didn’t trust his other friends, it’s just that he found himself trust you more than he normally would. It’s just a feeling, that you will never stab his back even when you have a chance. Trust is precious, and he trusted you

• When the two of you didn’t have any commission to follow after, the bar is the best place to find you guys. Alcohol and story, never a dull combination when mixed together

• Sometimes you just had this random urge in the conversation, telling him that when you finally reached a certain age, you would figure a way to retire from being a mercenary. Maybe adopting a cat as your companion while you were at it as well, a black cat sounded fitting. He had never understand the appeal of said animal, but the thought made him think

• You enjoyed taking a walk in the snow to clear up your mind. You have invited him to join you sometimes. Now it just hits him like an odd habit to take a stroll under the snowy weather whenever he needs to calm his mind down

• Every moment with you, he felt relaxed. As if you were a walking dose of sedative for him. Even with danger lurking every corner of your life, you were still here with him. That was all that mattered

• Until that day came

• The day when he lost everyone in the bloodshed. Blackrock had dragged all of his friends and him into this mess of a battlefield that it wasn’t even their fault. His friends, his comrades who have been through life and death with him, they have all fallen down. His everything, he had lost it. And you, he had lost you

• When he woke up on the medic’s stretcher, the news paralyzed him. The worst thing was that they had failed to locate your body, considered that you had been blown to ashes in that explosion. It was the cruelty of war. Just a while ago he was still wishing you good luck, and now you have disappeared without a trace. The state of his burn skin didn’t even let him cry in peace, there was no tear running out of his eyes, yet it hurt like Hell

• There is no room for love in the battlefield. He has realized his feelings for you too late. When you left, it’s like you have taken his love with you

• Time gone by with no remorse for the fallen one. You didn’t even have a proper burial. Everything moved on like nothing happened. His hatred for Blackrock just got fueled up even more, yet he had to stay. To figure out a way to avenge his friends and comrades, to avenge you

• Now that you are gone, Hyperlaser finds himself taken up on your habit. He lives with the memory of you. Every time he goes out for a drink, he makes an extra order of your favorite beverage beside his. Every time he goes out for a walk underneath the snow, he imagines your footsteps accompanied him

• To find cat is a surprise for him. Normally, he will be careless with any stray in his sight. Yet there was something that the little black kitten just calls out for him. In the end, he takes the little darling with him. Hyperlaser feels like if you were here, you would have laugh when he became a cat dad

• He has so many regrets. His memory is slowly blur out your face, your voice, and he finds himself cling to the memento you have left just so he can assure himself that he will continue to live with the appreciation of his shared memories with you

• But of course, you are gone, slipped out of his grip forever

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: My customers really love to torture themselves, don’t they?

[lizzyk137]

I'll Be There for You - A Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Description: You and Spencer had become friends since he moved into your building. Slowly you fell for him only for him to find someone else. Warnings: Mentions of- death, depression. Angst and jealousy.

Part Two! Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Perfection.

That's what you thought every time you saw your next-door neighbor. Pure perfection.

You knew who he was exactly. A FBI agent, part of the BAU, one of the greatest minds on the planet and he was your next-door neighbor.

He had just moved in a few months ago and ever since then, you'd catch yourself looking through your windows to see him walking off the bus and then running to the door to hear him walk up the stairs, only to open your door just as he was fumbling with his keys to do some mysterious tasks just so you could talk to him.

The first time you ever saw him was when he was unloading his stuff out of a moving van with a few friends, who you've come to know were his co-workers and practically his family. You were pulling up on your bike after a quick morning ride, to see the most gorgeous man turn to look at you as you braked the closer you got.

"Hello!" A cheerful blonde called out as you locked your bike near the entrance of your apartment building.

"Hi!" You had said quietly, suddenly getting nervous as four people, including the supermodel of a man, turned to look at you. You felt like they were looking you all over, analyzing you, which you had come to find out that they naturally do to everyone since it's their job.

"I'm Penelope! This is my friend Spencer; he's moving into the building!" The blonde said with the biggest smile plastered on her face. She was bubbly and confident which made you nervous since you were neither of those things.

"I'm Y/n, I live in 13B. It's nice to meet you." You briefly made eye contact with Spencer's sunglasses covered eyes before looking back down at your hands nervously.

"Did you know in most cultures 13 is considered an unlucky number and the bringer of bad luck? Most buildings skip the 13th floor entirely and most places don't number a house or apartment as the number 13 since it could bring bad luck to the area?" Spencer stated, looking at you.

"Um, I did know that actually. 13 is one of my favourite numbers and I also own a black cat too. So hopefully you don't have to be my neighbor." You chuckled trying to make a joke. The others laughed but Spencer just stood there looking at you.

"Actually, my apartment is number 11, and with how the building is organized with odd numbers on the left and even numbers on the right, I am more than likely your neighbor. Plus, I also don't believe in superstitions since there is no scientific proof that they harbor any bad luck."

You nodded. "Oh... well, um did you guys need any help with your stuff?" You motioned with your head to the van filled with boxes labeled books. "There is a service elevator just on the other side of the building that we can use to bring in the larger stuff."

"Thanks, that would be a big help." A handsome-looking gentleman said. "The name's Morgan." He said winking at you.

A dark-haired woman shook her head at Morgan, then said, "Why don't we pull out what we can and do an assembly line to the apartment then we can use the elevator for the larger furniture?"

"Sounds good!" Penelope said and everyone broke away from the huddle to start pulling boxes out.

After that day, the apartment next to yours was quiet. The front door never opened or closed, and you worried that your new neighbor was dead. Worried after the fifth day of not hearing anything you knocked on the door to no reply.

You had called your landlord and asked him if the next door was vacant since you were certain that no living soul was in there. He said Spencer was still renting and gave you his number to call.

You sent out a text two days later, hoping that he wasn't dead next door.

'Hi, this is Y/N from unlucky apartment 13. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since there's been no noise for the past week. I hope my bad luck didn't reach you!'

You tried keeping it light and friendly, hoping that your worrying didn't lead to the real thing happening.

You received a reply a day later to your surprise and relief.

'Hi, unlucky number thirteen. No, the bad luck has not caught up with me. I've been away on a case and have yet to be home. Thanks for checking up on me!'

You chuckled at the message and from then on you and Spencer exchanged texts every hour cracking small jokes.

It wasn't until you heard the keys jingle outside the door a few days later that you bolted out of your window seat and opened the door to find an exhausted Spencer trying to unlock his door.

He was so tired he didn't even realize you had been standing there watching him struggle for a few minutes until you cleared your throat making him jump, dropping his keys in the process.

You reached down to pick them up, and your hair flipped out of your face giving him the best view to see your beautiful smile light up your face as you handed him his keys back. He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't red even though it felt like it was burning. "Thanks." He mumbled and opened the door quickly only for it to open a foot.

Inside you could see boxes piled up blocking any sort of passage through.

Spencer tried to shimmy his way in but eventually had to put his back to the door, bracing himself as he pushed it open with his body.

"Did you want any help unpacking?" You ask chuckling as the maze of boxes piled up.

Spencer tilted his head to look at you then let out a tired breath. "Honestly, I'd love that, but I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in the past couple of days. If the offer still stands in the next couple of days, I'll take you up on it." He put on a small smile for you to show he appreciated your offer.

You nodded lightly, "Let me know when you're all set, I'd be more than glad to set a few hours aside to help you!"

And he did let you know a few days later. You heard a soft knock on the door and could hear him pace back and forth for a second while you pulled a blanket over your thin tank top and short shorts.

"Spencer?" You said surprised as you pulled open the door to reveal a very nervous man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "Does the offer still stand to help unpack? I tried unpacking myself and it is not going that well." His voice was barely a whisper at the end, and you ended up laughing a bit at how nervous he was.

He gulped at the sight of you laughing at what he said, hoping he didn't seem inadequate at something so simple as packing.

"I told you the offer would still stand so there is no need to be nervous, plus packing always goes better when you do it with someone. " You chuckled and closed your apartment door behind him.

He didn't move from where he was, so you ended up knocking into him a little bit. "Whoops, sorry!" You said trying to take a step back but there was nowhere to go with how close Spencer was to you.

He just continued to stare at you and then cleared his throat taking a step back. He headed back to his apartment as you followed behind in your fuzzy slippers. He opened the door as much as he could and held it open for you to shimmy inside. Your chest moving as you nudged your way inside made his face instantly heat up and his eyes go wide as he tore his eyes away from your thin top.

'Get it together Spencer. She's helping you out, it's not time to check her out.' He thought to himself shaking his head as the image flashed back into his head.

"So where do you want to start?" Your voice rang out to him, making the thought of your chest disappear.

"Um," his voice cracked a bit as he tried to control it, "I think we should start in the kitchen since it has the most breakable stuff."

He led the way to the kitchen and you both started tearing through boxes and pulling out items, asking him where he would want things to which he was clueless on what would go better where so he left it up to you. In fact, he left every part of his house up to you on how it should be arranged. He just followed your orders and moved items to where they needed to go, his face turning bright red when you'd catch him staring at you making you blush slightly.

After that, Spencer and you became close friends and frequented each other's apartments often for movie night, to play games, to talk or just to read each other's massive collection of books. After a while, you both had a key to each other's house and you'd often find Spencer in your reading corner, which you had put a special chair just for him in, and he would find you making something delicious in his kitchen as you sang along to some k-pop song off-key.

You both grew to be best friends, closer than he and JJ were, and he'd often take you to team functions as his plus one. You were slowly falling in love with the tall nerdy genius, and you thought he felt the same way until one day he mentioned a girl that he was talking to.

Maeve.

Movie nights turned into Maeve nights. Nightly walks were only to phone booths where you would sit outside on the curb waiting for Spencer to be done, and weekly bookstore trips were only to look for a book Maeve suggested in her nightly phone calls.

Soon everything you once did together started going away and Spencer wasn't the same guy you first fell for.

You'd make him dinners for when he'd come back home from cases only for none of it to be touched. Books you bought that you knew he was waiting to be released would be left untouched and piling up on the table by the door.

The team would fill you in and let you know he was okay at least once a week since you never saw or heard from him anymore.

Sure, you were happy that Spencer found someone, it broke your heart that it wasn't you, but you were still happy for your friend. But soon, Spencer didn't want your company as he used to want it. Everything slowly was crumbling, and you were left in the dark from him.

It lasted for ten months before it all stopped. No noise, no movement, not even a breath was heard in the apartment next to yours. The team would come by, and he wouldn't open up his door to any of them.

Maeve died and Spencer was broken.

It lasted like that for months. You tried not to linger by his door on your way to and from work. You tried not to care too deeply for someone that dropped you months ago. You tried your hardest not to think about Spencer Reid. And it almost worked.

You were putting on your heels for a night out with the girls. In the last few months, the girls of the BAU team became super close even with Emily flying in every so often to meet up. Penelope had suggested a girl's night out with dinner, drinking and dancing. The three D's as she liked to call it. And for someone lucky they got the fourth D at the end of the night, and in PG terms she called it dessert.

Looking into the mirror, you looked back at yourself checking every part of your outfit over. A tight, sparkly black over the shoulder sleeved mini dress with black strappy heels. You had gone all out on your makeup, something one of your friends from college taught you how to do to get extra money on the weekends, and you had curled your hair in loose waves.

You sighed, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a bit uncomfortable with how much skin was showing. You had been slowly building your confidence up the last few months you spent with Spencer since he showed you that it was okay to be you and that you didn't have to hide it, and you were trying to keep building confidence up even though he wasn't there anymore.

Your phone buzzed and you saw that it was Penelope messaging you that they were there. Grabbing your bag and stuffing your phone inside you headed out and stopped to look at Spencer's door, littered with baskets of self-care stuff and dead flowers. You missed him, but the door was a reflection of what he wanted, to close everyone out and drown out the world.

Dinner went by in a flash, full of laughter and drinks, and you were headed to the club when Penelope shrieked besides you.

"You okay, hun?" You asked chuckling at the girl next to you that was practically hyperventilating.

Instead of giving you an answer she just waved her phone around until JJ grabbed it and looked at what was pulled up. "Wow..." JJ mumbled. She showed you and Emily what seemed to be a picture. Emily blew it up and there all the guys from the BAU including Will were lined up on the wall dressed up in suits with stern expressions on their face.

"Daddy Morgan is looking so fine." Penelope whispered causing you to laugh loudly.

"Oh my god, is that Spencer?" Emily gasped.

All four of you leaned closer in to look at the line up of men. Morgan, Rossi, Hotch, Will and Spencer. Morgan had his best smolder on, Rossi did not look pleased to be there, Hotch looked tired, Will stood there like a deer in headlights and Spencer looked so tired that it broke your heart a little.

"I know, I know I said it was a girl's night but the boys were getting Spencer out of the house and at least out doing normal human things so I said they could tag along. Please don't be mad." Giving you her best pleading look.

"I think it's a good idea to get Spencer out of the house. Y/N is that okay with you?" JJ asked you concerned. She could see you tense up after Penelope said she invited them.

Nodding your head as a reply you looked back at the picture on Penelope's phone staring a hole into Spencer's digital self until you had to see the real thing.

You made it through the club's line quicker than expected, all thanks to Emily flirting with the female bouncer, and you headed inside, music blaring, to find the table the guys reserved for you. Emily could see you fidgeting with your bag, so she pulled you over to the bar and ordered a round of shots. "Liquid courage." She said as she handed you a glass. You ended up downing five shots and one mixed drink until Emily pulled you over to the table to drop your bags off to dance.

"Damn, princess, you are looking good." Morgan whistled to you, winking as you shrugged playfully.

"I see you girls are dressed up nicely, did we interrupt girls' night?" Rossi asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Kind of, but we can still pull in our catch." Emily winked as she replied back.

Your eyed slowly drifted around the table as everyone engaged in conversations with each other until your eyes landed on Spencer who was staring at you with his jaw locked. You stared at each other for a few minutes before you felt a light touch on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw a handsome man smiling down at you.

"Hi, Y/N, right? I'm Jesse, we met at the bookstore last week."

"Oh, hi!" The table growing silent as they eyed the newcomer at the table, and you knew they were unintentionally profiling him. You could feel Spencer's eyes drilled into your back.

"I just saw you and was hoping it was you. I wanted to thank you for that book recommendation for my class! Surprisingly the sixth graders enjoyed it."

"I'm so glad to hear that! I read it to my class not too long ago and they loved it!"

Jesse nodded and looked up at the table. "Oh, I'm being rude. I'll leave ya be to your friends!"

"No, no! That's okay!" Penelope practically screamed out. "Y/N was looking for someone to dance with, if you want to dance." You swerved in your seat to give her a death glare before politely smiling back up at Jesse.

Jesse chuckled, "Um, if you want to dance, I'd like to accompany you." He extended his hand out and you gently took it letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Spencer scoffed, as he watched you two walked away. Rossi eyed him and shook his head. "What?" He asked the older man. "The guy was obviously into her. He was practically eyeing her body the entire time. And the excuse of coming over here to thank her for recommending a book! Lame."

"I never thought I'd hear Reid use the word lame before." Morgan muttered to Hotch.

"I thought the guy was nice. I see him come into the station to help out with the toy drives and I hear he helps out at all the shelters around town." Will commented causing Spencer to roll he eyes.

The table grew silent for a few minutes and the girls went off the dance, Will in tow, and Reid was left with three men who knew him the best looking at him.

Spencer took a sip of his water, trying not to let on that he was suddenly uncomfortable with all three men staring at him.

"I think we have a jealous Reid." Rossi finally said, breaking the silence.

Hotch laughed, "I think you're right. Maybe you should just tell her you like her."

Spencer shook his head confused and took another sip of his drink. "I just got out a relationship, which did not end well. How could I suddenly be jealous of her? She just met the guy for a second time."

All three men laughed at Spencer's remarks making him more puzzled at what they were saying.

Morgan cleared his throat, "No, not jealous of her in that way. Jealous of the guy she's with. As soon as she walked in you have been eyeing her, and when Jesse showed up you got mad at her for giving her attention to another guy. Even now your eyes have been following her around." Morgan explained.

"And don't say it's for her safety. She's quite safe surrounded by two fully trained agents and one police officer." Rossi chimed in.

"You like her, just tell her that." Hotch spoke up next, "What you had with Maeve was meaningful and real, but it was also mostly through a phone and there was so many secrets she kept from you. You should be with someone that you don't have to hide from. Someone that can be your best friend when you need it and is always there for you."

Spencer just nodded and turned his gaze towards you, watching as you drunkenly swayed your body to the music.

"Maybe I will, but I also don't know what to feel, and she means too much to me to use to figure out my own feelings." He starred at you as you laughed and danced. He was happy you were having fun, but he always wished his arms were wrapped around you as you both danced the night away.