#these two are practically soulmates

[lionydoorin]

narcissists are too focused on themselves to realize they're being played.

click on the image for better quality cause tumblr fucked it up 🥰

#highkeu freaking out over posting this one im so anxious #this is what happens when my style plays w realism 😁 #rly proud of this one! #i also tried a new painting technique and oh mu god it was so fun #it's kinda messy and and i could've rendered and smoothed it out a little more #but it's meant to be more of a practice #expect better things in the future! 🥰 #gonna finish my other two wips in this style and then i don't know #im probably never gonna draw something this pretty again i've peaked #eleanor levetan #drea torres #fucked up soulmates #drea x eleanor #eleanor x drea #idk which tag the cool kids use #do revenge #do revenge fanart #do revenge netflix #fanart #ma ur arting #im so proud im pinning this on my profile for a while

[deus-and-the-machina]

Frothing at the mouth what do you MEAN pearl gave Scott a life in ll for their alliance to be sealed oh myg od THAT MAKES EVERYTHING SO MUCH WORSE AND SO MUCH BETTER

#pearl literally gave him part of her life and they ended up soulmates and he REJECTED her even still like. ow #what fascinates me about the divorce quartet and specifically pearl and Scott is how more than any particular slight the thing that stops #them from coming together is their stubbornness. scott was prolly too harsh on pearl but he’s not backing down no way besides she’s lost it #now and is hostile right back and so they hurt themselves to hurt each other and build up more and more animosity #cleo concedes a bit to martyn bc she knows it’s practical for survival but scott and pearl are the messiest of messy friendship breakups #you witnessed in hs because they’re both (mostly scott tho ngl) are so STUBBORN #and with how he and cleo seemed to be so eager to go off from their soulmates maybe it’s also like. it doesn’t really matter who their #soulmate was. at that point scott was sold on the two seasons in the making full time alliance with cleo and vice versa #they wanted to cause problems on purpose and they found the perfect reason to split from fate even if it was a tad of an overreaction #pearl and martyn were collateral. and with the context of what she did for him in last life you could argue she’s one of the reasons he won #at all by giving the yellow name a life. so no wonder it stings so bad they’ve done so much for each other. SHES done so much for him and #he throws her away over a nether excursion? did their bond really mean that little? ough. ough man #double life #pearlescentmoon #scott smajor #last life

[lunannex]

Everything about them drives me INSANE i hate them (affectionate)

#luna talks #not friends not enemies but a secret third thing #soulmates #perfect mirrors #practically married #thinking about that one part of kaveh’s character stories #where it says that the most unshakable part of one’s past is a friend that will never change #things that can never be integrated are what constitute the two sides of a mirror #<<<< LIKE????? #how can you expect me to be NORMAL about them

[koishua]

my tumblrinas,,, you're my only friends 🫶🫶

#tp #says me with just over a million irl acquaintances and quote unquote friends #maybe i am a friend to them idk idk anymore #severely lacking the ability to create meaningful and lasting relationships with people‼️‼️ #it's an entirely me problem #okay actually i did have a soulmate and two bestfriends during different periods in my life but i left them again lol #keeping contact who??? #someone beat some sense and remorse into me please i need to be a better friend to people #my fear of forever being alone bc of my parents' work (which has lead to me giving up on socializing) strikes again!! #now that i am 18 i am no longer obligated to move with them wherever they go #so this is a weird time for me #i can stay and go and i can keep growing up in a single city with a stable life and stable friends #in THEORY #in practice i am failing... as one may tell.. #forget about living in the same city omfg i can stay in the same fucking country (and continent??) for more than two years now olé!?!?!?

[justauthoring]

jerk.

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: wooooooohhhhh i love soulmate aus so much omg

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part two.

You’ve known he was your soulmate from the first day at U.A. 

When he’d bumped into you, steaming with anger in that way he regularly was and had spat at you; “move it, extra, or i’ll make you” – and you’d known then because those were the words written across you hip since you’d turn five and it had manifested with your quirk.

Because that was how the world was. Nowadays, it was odd to find someone without a quirk and even harder to find someone without a soulmate and you’d grown up your whole life having those awful words written on your skin. Had grown up knowing that for whatever reason, the soulmate you’d been given didn’t say warm, intimate words to you or even just simply generic words. Your friends had always had such nice sentences from their soulmates, with pretty words or a happy greeting.

And in yours you’d been called an extra.

Whatever the hell that meant.

You’ve never been excited to meet your soulmate. Not once. Not when you were five, or eight or twelve or when you started noticing people in a way you hadn’t before, more romantically. Not when you started maturing and growing up. Those words glared at you every time you stared at them and you didn’t want a single thing to do with your soulmate.

Not ever.

That is only doubled when you realize who your soulmate is. Maybe there was always a small part of you that hoped the words were misunderstood; you’d make scenarios up in your head about how those words could be teasing or even just a misunderstanding. 

When they’re spat at you by an intimidating blonde man that looks like there’s actual steam pouring from his ears, with piercing red eyes that cut into you like you’d done some horrible thing to deserve his anger… you understand then that they weren’t teasing and they aren’t a misunderstanding. They’re cruel and they’re mean and dismissive and hurtful and every horrible thing piled together by a man who is even worse beyond just his first words to you.

So you make it your goal that he never finds out you’re his soulmate in return.

You avoid him. Desperately. You’re barely a person in his own head so it isn’t all that hard to do. Even as the rest of the class grows closer and bonds, it seems Bakugou is just as content to ignore everyone else as you are to be ignored by him. Sure, some worm their way into his heart, like Kirishima or Midoriya and Shoto, but nobody else really seemed to matter. At least, you didn���t. You had the same friends, you were in the same class, and eventually, you ended up sleeping in the same building. 

You saw him everyday. You ate in the same kitchen and relaxed in the same living room. You trained in the same gym and overall, were consistently near each other. But you didn’t speak to him and he’d never tried to speak to you after that first day. Months pass and it continues on this way and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what your name is.

Or that you really even exist.

And you’re happy with that.

Content.

Because while the idea of a soulmate was romantic and heartwarming and something you dreamed about, him being your soulmate sounds horrible.

And it was best he just never even knew.

He was so focused on becoming number one, you’re not sure he even cares about finding his. 

Which is fine. Works better for you in the end.

-

“Y/L/N and Bakugou. You two are teamed up for combat practice today.”

You freeze at Aizawa-sensei’s words, body tensing as your eyes instantly shoot towards Bakugou. He’s already looking at you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he lets his eyes drag across you; it’s clear he’s assessing you. Maybe trying to remember your name or if he’s ever seen you before.

It wouldn’t surprise you if he was.

Somehow, in all your months of being in the same class as Bakugou, you’ve never once been partnered up with him for anything. You think once you may have been put in a group with him, but that was with several others so it'd been easy enough to avoid him.

One on one though? That was going to be harder.

Way harder.

“Good luck,” Mina calls from beside you, squeezing your shoulder before she moves to meet up with her partner; it looks like she’d gotten Jirou. Lucky. 

Watching everyone else disperse tells you that you can’t just stand there like an idiot anymore. You take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves that course through you as you make your way over to Bakugou. As you make contact with him again, you realize he’s not moving; obviously he expects you to come to him.

Jerk.

When you reach him, the two of you just stare at each other and since you’re certainly not going to speak first, there’s a moment of awkward silence before Bakugou grunts; “ready?”

You nod and he isn’t confused by your silence so the two of you walk off to an open area in the gym. He stands across from you, gives you a look and then is racing towards you. You’re not sure why Aizawa-sensei teams you up with Bakugou because your quirks definitely don’t mesh well together and it’s clear Bakugou is stronger, but you’re able to hold up well enough on your own.

You even manage to land a hit on Bakugou once that clearly surprises him and you take it as a win.

And a little payback for being such an ass.

Then, when the class is over and you’ve promptly been knocked on your ass in return, you’re surprised to see a hand stretched out in front of you, invitingly. You blink, eyes drifting upwards only to meet Bakugou’s as he stares down at you. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t look all that friendly, but he nods his head in recognition.

“Good job.”

The words are such a shock your brain short circuits for a minute. Not only are the words the nicest thing you’ve ever heard Bakugou say (which is saying a lot) but his voice wasn’t gruff or aggressive like it normally is–it was… soft, almost? Maybe not soft but… normal. Just… calm.

Your heart is lurching at the sound before you even realize and then you’re pushing yourself up to your feet, basically smacking his hand out of the way and running out of the room without another word.

-

After that, Bakugou doesn’t seem to leave you alone.

He’s everywhere.

And not everywhere in the way he had been before. He’s not there in passing or just across the room from you, he’s asking to train with you or deliberately making sure he’s the only one left for you to partner with. He seems to always be in the kitchen when you want to eat or in the living room when you want to vedge after a long day.

He’s constantly there.

Not to mention, gone are his glares or looks of indifference. He’s always looking at you, making sure you know he knows you’re there; even if the two of you are in class or with a group of classmates. He makes note of acknowledging you. The others seem to notice too because the girls start asking what you did to get Bakugou’s attention and you promptly tell them you have no idea.

Of course, they don’t know Bakugou’s your soulmate so they don’t really get the scope of your panic. And it’s not that you don’t trust them, especially after all you’d been through as a class, but more because the less that knew, the less likely Bakugou was to know.

But now? Now it was getting hard to avoid him and it was even harder not to say something without it looking obvious why you weren’t.

You were promptly fucked.

You are able to stall it for all of two weeks before you’re cornered by Bakugou.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Your wide eyes fall on him, not only shocked by his presence but panicked by his words because there were few things a sentence like that could mean. 

A quick glance around tells you there’s no way to get past him without Bakugou being able to block him and since it had already been made clear that he was in fact stronger than you, you knew there was no escape. Everyone else was gone since you’d snuck out of training to grab a bite to eat and it seemed like Bakugou had snuck out the same to follow you.

So yeah, you were screwed.

Bakugou lets out a huff at your silence and he takes another step towards you, further crowding you and you swallow thickly when he steps into your personal space. You move to walk back but then your back is pressing against the wall of the kitchen and Bakugou is completely shrouding you, it's hard to look anywhere but at him.

“Do you think I don’t know why you won’t speak to me?”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the right, determined to avoid his steely red eyes that feel like they’re piercing into your very soul. You focus on the handle to the cupboard to your right and try to ignore the growl he lets out in response.

He takes another step forward and suddenly he’s inches apart, close enough you can feel his breath drift across your skin, warm to the touch.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out after you ran from me that day when we were partnered up,” Bakugou continues. “Especially when I started to realize you’ve never talked to me. And then? Avoiding me for the last two weeks? It’s not hard to figure out.”

You halt, freezing, waiting for the words—

“You’re my soulmate.”

You refuse to look at him. You won’t look at him. 

Maybe if you just ignore him, he’ll go away. He’ll just… leave. He doesn’t like being ignored, that much you’ve gathered and so if you just refuse to–

Suddenly his hands are on your arms and his chest is against yours and he’s way too close. “Hey,” he huffs, “look at me.”

You don’t listen. Even as you tense beneath his grip, you refuse to do anything, to give him any sort of reaction. If you give him a reaction, he’ll get what he wants. And you’re not thinking straight. You need to just wait, wait until he’s bored and then you can think—figure this out because surely–

“Y/L/N,” he calls and you’re surprised he even knows your name, “look at me. Hey. I’m right, aren’t I? Why else wouldn't you fucking looking at me.” You continue to remain silent and Bakugou lets out a low growl. “Fucks sake. I’m not leaving until you say something so you might as well—”

“—I’m not saying anything to you because you’re a jerk!”

Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

The words leave your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. The second you’re done, your chest is heaving and you finally turn your head, eyes snapping to Bakugou’s, fearing his reaction at your rather blunt and rude words.

But, a second later, instead of being angry like you’d expected, Bakugou starts… laughing.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the boy laugh, certainly not that genuinely. His lips are parted and his eyes have squeezed shut and the laugh that leaves his lips is pure and genuine and loud and it’s so unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him you’re stunned stupid as you stare back at him with your lips left parted, jaw slacked.

As his laughter fades, Bakugou meets your gaze.

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years,” he starts, still smiling–actually smiling this time. Not a smirk. But an affectionate grin. “Wasn’t sure what I did to deserve those words, but it seems fitting.”

Blinking, once, twice, you sputter, snapped out of your stupor. “I–I… You jerk!”

“I think we’ve established that already, babe.”

You barely even notice the nickname. If it wasn’t for the way your heart races at the sound, you’re sure your stupefied mind wouldn’t have caught it because seriously, what the hell?

“You… this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything!” You cry out, not sure if you’re defending yourself for him or more for yourself. Why are you even defending yourself? And what against? “You’re insufferable. And rude. And cocky. And a jerk.”

Bakugou just snorts. “What are your words?” He asks, smile fading slightly as his expression turns more serious; almost solemn. Regretful. “Must’ve been bad if you had to avoid me.”

You’re surprised by the guilt in his tone, but it gives you the confidence to answer. “‘Move it, extra, or I’ll make you’,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands. “You said it the first day we started here at U.A.”

“Shit,” Bakugou curses, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve been avoiding me for months?”

Your eyes flick to his before lowering and that gives him his answer.

He shifts. “L-Listen… uh, sorry about… about cornering you like this.”

Blinking, you tilt your head up. You’re shocked to see a red tinge to his cheeks. 

“I just needed to know,” he finishes explaining. “And I’m sorry about that shit I said to you. My soulmate doesn’t deserve that crap but I can’t take it back, so I’ll just make sure I make up for it.”

You’re positive now that you’re hallucinating this whole thing.

“What?”

He blinks down at you at your screech before smirking.

“Well, I mean, as we get to know each other,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m shit with words but I’ll try for you. I'm good with showing though,” and he looks a little too pleased with himself.

But you can barely focus on the very blatant meaning of his words, you're still trying to catch up. “You…” and you hesitate, not sure if you’re hearing this correctly. “You want to get to know me?”

And he looks at you like you’re dumb.

“Duh,” he shrugs, “you’re my soulmate.”

“What about being number one?”

“What about it?” he argues, shaking his head. “That’ll still happen. You think I can’t do that while also dating you?”

Your eyes widen; “dating?”

“Yeah,” he says, again like you’re dumb. He takes a step towards you, once again closing the gap between you and his hands falling on your waist, pulling a gasp from your lips at the touch that causes him to smirk, as if proud. “You’re my soulmate. Of course we’re going to date.”

“I barely know you!”

“That’s why we’ll get to know each other.”

You just stare up at him.

“You really are insufferable,” is what you manage to say in the end, exasperated. Your shoulders fall and your body sags but you don’t pull away from his touch and even if you’re not fully aware of it, you’re pretty sure you end up leaning into him.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he shrugs, still grinning. “Now, let’s go back to training. We need to work on your defense.”

Blinking, you turn to him as he shifts the both of you, guiding you forwards. “Hey!”

“What,” he shrugs down at you. “It’s true. You were barely able to block my hits when we fought.”

You can’t find the words to say so you simply let him lead you along, trying to ignore the way his hands make your skin tingle and your heart race. Or, really, the way that despite everything, you really don’t mind.

If anything, you actually like it.

Fuck—he really is a jerk.

#my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight PT2

Alastor x doe!reader

PART ONE PART 3

this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you

Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think

wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei

Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.

“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.

Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”

Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.

Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!

“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.

At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.

“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.

“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.

“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.

Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.

Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.

“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.

“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.

You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.

Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.

Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.

Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.

“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.

“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.

Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.

You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”

A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.

Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

[smileysuh]

twisted fate

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

tw/cw. murder/blood, dickhead vampire wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping?, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, controlling!wonwoo, praise, dirty talk, fingering, mean dom Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, finger-licking, choking, unprotected sex, big dick Wonwoo, size kink, slight dacryphilia, gentle spanking, dumbification, begging, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) darling, brat, pet, etc.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.3k

🍭 aus. vampire/vampire hunter au, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I guess for October I just put out bangers, this one has a lot of blood play cuz it's vampire wonwoo, so be warned

There’s something different about you, and Wonwoo notices the moment you step into the bar. He has his fair share of experience with places that cater to vampires, and after over a hundred years, he knows how to spot humans with an interest in his kind. Many of the women swarming around him have a certain look in their eye, their pulses racing with excitement, but you… well, there’s something off about the way you hold yourself.

You certainly look the part of a fang bunny, your attire all black, but you’re dressed much more conservatively than the lingerie clad girls that normally frequent this place. Still, even with your form half hidden under a leather jacket, Wonwoo can tell he likes what he sees of you. 

Some of his friends like the hunt. They have big egos and take pleasure in chasing their food down, but Wonwoo doesn’t share in this thirst for a conquest. He won’t approach you, he’ll simply watch. It will be amusing to see what you end up doing tonight if nothing else.

His eyes follow you as you head to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk with one of the human workers. From a distance, and with the bar practically full of noise, Wonwoo can’t make out your words, but that doesn’t really matter to him. You’re interesting enough to watch, but Wonwoo’s not sure he’d actually care for anything you have to say, especially not when he can stare at your ass instead.

The discussion is a short one, and Wonwoo catches the bartender nodding in his direction. This is new behaviour, but the vampire supposes he shouldn’t be shocked at the loose lipped humans who work here. No one keeps a secret like a vampire, and as Wonwoo watches you slip a bill over the counter, he’s filled with annoyance at the money hunger of mere mortals.

You slip into the crowd again, and it’s clear you’re making your way over toward the elevated section of the club, where Wonwoo sits at a table drinking what appears to be red wine with two of his broodmates. 

“Who are you watching?” Mingyu asks, leaning forward to get a better look. 

“No one important,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, swirling the blood in his wine glass before downing it. He’s curious as to what will happen next, and if you are coming over in the hopes of being bitten, he wants to be satiated enough to not give into the temptation of draining you. 

Vampire bars generally have a strict no killing policy. The underworld has few sanctuaries like this one, and they can’t have human law enforcement going through their ‘wine barrels’ if a murder takes place in or around the property. 

Wonwoo’s eyes find you again. You’re much closer now, and your gaze is fixed on him. You’re like a cute little butterfly heading straight for the spider’s web, and it makes Wonwoo grin to himself. 

He stands up from the booth when you’re a few feet away, and Wonwoo notes your pulse quicken, your steps faltering. To your credit, Wonwoo is much larger now than when he was sitting, and he has to lower his gaze to meet your own. “Are you lost?” he asks, taking in your outfit at a leisurely pace now that you’re right in front of him.

“No, I-” You take a breath. “Are you Wonwoo?”

“Depends who’s asking,” he muses.

“I’ve been looking for you,” you try to explain, raising your voice over the noise of the bar. 

Wonwoo can hear you perfectly fine, but he knows the noise must be difficult on your weak human ears. He leans forward. “Sounds interesting. Let’s step outside to talk, it’s too loud in here.”

He watches the way you pause, considering the proposition.

You’re definitely not a fang bunny. Any vampire lover would jump at the chance to get alone with him. You’re much too guarded, and it intrigues him even more.

“Okay,” you nod. 

Wonwoo steps closer, hand finding the small of your back as he begins to guide you through the club toward the back exit. You stiffen under his touch, and Wonwoo’s fingers skim over the hilt of what he presumes to be a blade under your leather jacket.

He wonders how you got in with a badly concealed weapon, but he supposes the human bouncers can be just as susceptible to bribery as bartenders can. He’ll have to talk with the club owner about hiring vampire security, even if such jobs are ‘below’ his kind. 

Your heart rate is increasing with each step, but you’re doing your best to breathe evenly, and Wonwoo is amused by it. Either you know he’s a vampire, in which case, you should know you can’t fool him, or, maybe you’re just stupid, he can’t quite tell.

Wonwoo’s heart doesn’t beat. It hasn’t in too many years to count, but he gets that familiar tingle of excitement running along his skin as he gets closer to the door that will lead you behind the bar. You’re not a sure catch, not what Mingyu would fondly call a ‘cute juicebox.’ Wonwoo’s always been curious, and his interest is peaked by the unknown outcome of this interaction.

As you make it to the exit, Wonwoo holds the door open for you. With one last pause, you walk through. 

The vampire grins to himself, following you into the night.

The alleyway is deserted, the perfect spot for Wonwoo to figure you out. 

His eyes follow you as you put a few feet of distance between him and yourself, running an anxious hand through your hair. 

“You were just about to tell me why you’re looking for me,” Wonwoo says, pretending to be helpful, when in reality, he only wants to satiate his own curiosity.   

“I heard you might know someone I’ve been trying to find, a Mister Sung.”

Wonwoo’s throat tightens. He hasn’t heard his maker’s name in many years. It frustrates him that it still has an effect on him, and Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side. “I don’t know anyone by that name,” he lies. 

“I’ve been told you do,” you insist.

He’s tired of you now, anger growing by the second inside of him.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Wonwoo repeats, unable to say the name in question. He refuses to taste it on his lips again, and he can feel his fangs beginning to throb, his need to taste something sweeter growing as he stares you down. 

You begin to reach for your jacket, but you’re much too slow for the older vampire, who immediately catches your wrist in a vice grip. 

“Don’t grab your weapon,” he warns. “It will only make me harder on you.”

Your pulse is racing now. Wonwoo can see your carotid artery leaping against your skin. He holds back a groan, stepping closer. 

You move away, back hitting the brick wall behind you.

“Nowhere to run,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re a vampire hunter, aren’t you, darling? Shame. I’ve never seen a hunter move as slow as you do. But I guess these days there aren’t many people who could teach you the craft, I’ve killed my share of them.”

Your pupils dilate with fear, and it makes Wonwoo’s head spin. He’s going to enjoy this. 

The club might have a no killing humans policy, but vampire hunters are free game. He’ll be doing everyone a favour, and get his fill while doing it. 

“Stop-” You gasp, struggling against his grip, but Wonwoo’s hands might as well be metal, as there’s no way you’re breaking free of him.

He’s grown tired of this. As a curious human who may have walked into the wrong bar, you’d been interesting, but as a vampire hunter with no skill, you mean nothing to him. 

He’s amused when you try to punch at him with your free hand, but that only leads to him grabbing it and pinning it with your other wrist, squeezing you tight enough to have you gasping again. 

With both your wrists captured in one hand, he’s free to bring the other to your face, pinching your jaw. “Don’t scream,” he warns you, “and don’t struggle, you’ll only make things worse.”

Wonwoo’s gotten accustomed to staring into a person’s eyes as they realize they’ve just met death himself, and he’ll never get tired of it. He licks his lips, able to taste your fear in the cold night air. His self control has worn thin, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to hold himself back from an easy kill. 

With one sharp motion, he pushes your head to the side, giving him full access to your neck. Your artery leaps, pressing against your skin, and Wonwoo lets out a groan of relief as he dives in, sharp fangs piercing you.

You release a muffled gasp, clawing at his forearm while you struggle against the wall. The taste that erupts across his tongue is unlike anything he’s ever had before. It’s rich like fine red wine, but there’s something else too, dark notes of cherry and pomegranate- 

Suddenly, it feels like Wonwoo’s been roughly punched in the chest. It’s so startling that he pulls away from you, staggering back in confusion and releasing your wrists. Clearly you didn’t punch him, so what was that-

You take the moment of confusion to whip your blade out of your jacket, holding one hand to your bleeding neck while you defend yourself with the other. “Stay back!” 

But Wonwoo can’t stay back, not now that you’re more intriguing than ever.

He stands, licking his lips. He can still taste you on his tongue, and it’s practically intoxicating. 

Wonwoo’s eyes shift to the weapon you’re holding. It’s a black, triple bladed knife, used by vampire hunters and meant to emulate a stake. One good stab from that and there’s no stitching it up, he’d be scarred forever, even with vampiric healing abilities. And if you actually hit his heart? He’d simply be gone.

Maybe you have more bite than he’d given you credit for, but Wonwoo knows he can still best you in a fight, he’ll just have to be a little more careful.

“I swear to God-” you warn him, waving the blade.

“Darling, there’s no God here,” Wonwoo tells you simply, eyes assessing your every motion. It’s clear which side of your body you favour, and with one hand still pressed to your bleeding neck, he has an easy opening.

When Wonwoo moves to the left, you turn your body to follow, and that’s all he needs to abuse your weak point. With lightning fast speed, Wonwoo gives your abdomen a rough push, sending you careening back to the wall. There’s a harsh crack as your head hits brick, and you crumple to the ground, blade falling from your hand.

Maybe he’d pushed you too hard- he hadn’t been trying to- but he can still hear your faint breaths. You’re alive, and you might not be that way for long.

Wonwoo has never, in all his years of living, given another being his blood. He’s never wished to. But staring down at you now, that all changes. He can hear your pulse getting weaker-

The vampire falls to his knees next to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He brings his other wrist to his mouth, biting deep before holding it over your parted lips. 

 Wonwoo watches the dark red substance speckle your tongue and he presses two fingers under your jaw, closing your mouth in the hopes it will help you swallow. His wrist wound is already healing, and soon, you’ll heal as well.

There’s no medicine in the world quite like vampire blood, especially the blood of one as old as he. Wonwoo knows this. However, there’s still something inside of him that begins to worry about you. It’s a foreign emotion, worry, one he’s not had to deal with in a while, especially not in regard to a human.

Wonwoo grabs your blade off the ground, tucking it into his belt, then he adjusts you in his arms. It’s easier to simply throw you over his shoulder, so that’s what he does, standing up and looking toward the mouth of the alleyway. He can’t risk any humans seeing this, so he pulls out his phone, calling Mingyu.

“Bring the car to the back of the club,” Wonwoo instructs, leaving no room for argument as he hangs up. 

Less than two minutes later, Mingyu’s familiar black jeep is rolling down the alleyway. The car comes to a stop and Mingyu exits it, staring at Wonwoo in shock. “What happened?”

“Vampire hunter,” Wonwoo says simply, opening the door to the back of the jeep to set you inside. 

“What are you going to do with her?” Mingyu asks, watching through the rearview mirror as Wonwoo gets in beside you.

The elder vampire is quiet for a long while. “I’m not sure.”

Wonwoo is sitting in a chair near the bed, playing with your knife and watching over you diligently. It takes hours before you finally begin to stir. When you wake, you bolt upright, gasping. Your hand flies to your neck, but the wounds are already closed, your skin washed away of blood.

Your eyes find him next, and Wonwoo can’t help but be amused by the way you react, cowering away from him.

“So sleeping beauty finally wakes up,” Wonwoo muses, tossing the blade in his hand and catching it by the hilt.

You don’t say anything, but Wonwoo can see the cogs turning in your mind. “Why… why am I alive?”

“That’s a good question,” one he doesn’t know the answer to yet. 

“Am I a vampire?” 

Now Wonwoo is laughing. “No. Can you feel your heart racing? It’s a sign that you’re still human.”

You shift in his sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he confesses. “First, I’d like some answers.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Then I’ll tell you what I know,” he suggests. “This symbol on your blade, it’s a family crest. You belong to a line of vampire hunters.” You stay quiet, but to be fair, it hadn’t been a question, not really. “I recougnize this particular crest. It’s odd to see it again after so many years. I thought your line had been wiped out, but you’re still here, so I guess not.”

“Just kill me,” you state.

Your words cause an interesting feeling to bloom through Wonwoo’s chest again, and he cocks his head. “Is that really what you want?”

You bite your lip, then let out a heavy sigh. “No.”

The vampire stands from his chair. “At least I know why you were looking for Mister Sung now,” he says. “He killed your family, didn’t he?”

You stay quiet, but Wonwoo notes the small tremble that erupts through your form and it’s confirmation enough. 

“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo continues, “the vampire you’re looking for is dead. I killed him. Ten years ago.”

“He’s dead?” you ask, clearly shocked.

“It seems you’ve been running a fool's errand, darling,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “And you nearly died for it. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with you.”

It’s a low blow, and it causes a reaction. Your fists bunch in the sheets and your eyes narrow. “What do you know about my parents?” you spit. 

“I know they never got a chance to train you properly. I bet you’ve never even killed a vampire.”

Your shoulders slump ever so slightly and Wonwoo knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt,” Wonwoo laughs, “it’s cute you thought you could actually get me to be your first.”

“If you have everything figured out, what do you still need me for?”

“There’s still one thing I’m stuck on,” Wonwoo admits. “You did something to me, when I bit you. There was this… feeling, in my chest.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

He studies you for a moment. It’s true he hadn’t found any vampire repellents on you when he’d brought you back to his home. He’d kind of been hoping you’d tell him you’re a witch, and in a last ditch effort to get him away from you in the alley you’d used a spell of some sort. 

Wonwoo doesn’t want to consider the other possibility, he’s been refusing to even think about it, but now that the witch angle is off the table, the worst case scenario is at the forefront of his thoughts.

“I’ve got business to attend to,” he tells you simply, heading to the door. “You’ll be locked in this room until I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”

“And when will that be?!”

Wonwoo can hear the panic in your voice, and in some form he can sympathize with it. He’d been kept in a room for many years, under the command of a vampire sire he’d since revenged upon. “Not long,” Wonwoo promises, and it’s the most he can give you as reprieve before he shuts you into your fate.

“What’s so important we couldn’t do this over the phone or at the club?” Jeonghan asks as Wonwoo pushes into his home. 

“Give me a minute,” Wonwoo says, double-checking his friend's apartment for any fang bunnies or other vampires who could take what he’s about to say and use it against him.

“You’re so paranoid,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You wanted us to be alone, so we’re alone.”

Wonwoo turns to face the vampire in front of him. “Tell me about Luna.” 

“You-” Jeonghan falters. “You never want to hear about Luna.”

“But I do now,” Wonwoo insists. “Tell me.”

Jeonghan moves to sit on his couch, and Wonwoo can tell that the mere name of Jeonghan’s lost love is nearly too much for him to handle, even after so many years.

“What do you want to know?” Jeonghan asks finally.

“You said she was your soulmate.”

“And you called me crazy for it, everyone did.” Perhaps this is another reason it’s such a sore subject. 

“Not everyone,” Wonwoo points out. “Sung didn’t like it.” 

Jeonghan visibly flinches at the name of their old master, and it’s no wonder why. Sung had gone after anything his fledglings found beautiful, and much more. It’s one of the many reasons Wonwoo had found a way to kill him, ending their eternal torment… but he’d been too late to save Luna, and it’s something he’s always regretted. Jeonghan is a shell of who he was before, and deep in Wonwoo’s black twisted soul, he knows that the man he used to call one of his closest friends will never truly be whole again. 

“She was my soulmate,” Jeonghan says, but at this point, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact.

“How did you know?” Wonwoo presses.

“It was a feeling, I can’t really explain it.”

“Try.” 

Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “There was something about Luna, I knew it the moment I first saw her. I couldn’t describe it, especially not to any other vampires. She wasn’t just prey, she was more than that.”

She was enough for Jeonghan to turn her into a vampire, intent on spending the rest of eternity with her, an eternity that never came, for one of them at least.

“The first time I tasted her,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair. “She was like citrus and sunshine, I’d never experienced anything like her.” This is far off from the red wine and pomegranates Wonwoo had tasted when he’d had you. “It was the oddest thing- there was this feeling, in my chest-”

“Like a punch,” Wonwoo suggests.

Jeonghan’s eyes shift to him, and then he nods. “Yeah, like a punch.”

Wonwoo almost feels sick. “I still don’t understand how this made you realize she was your soulmate.”

“I couldn’t hurt her,” Jeonghan explains, “even if I’d wanted to. And when I tasted her again, when she let me drink from her, I realized what the feeling in my chest was.”

“What was it?” 

Jeonghan studies Wonwoo. “It was my heart.”

“Your heart?” 

The long haired vampire nods. “An echo. A memory of the life I once had. Luna made my heart beat again, if only when I was with her. She made me soft, like I’d been when I was human, before Sung and the eternal night.”

Wonwoo sits on the couch across from Jeonghan, looking down at his hands.

This can’t be true. Wonwoo had never believed it before- but now, well, now he’s experienced it for himself. 

How can a vampire’s whole long life change in one chance meeting?

Except, it hadn’t been chance, not really. Sung had ruined your life as he’d ruined Wonwoo’s, and fate had inexplicably tied you together. 

He truly can’t believe it.

“Why do you want to know all of this?” Jeonghan asks.

Wonwoo almost doesn’t want to admit it, for Jeonghan’s sake as much as his own. So he lies. “No reason.”

Jeonghan leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve found your own soulmate.” When Wonwoo remains silent, Jeonghan lets out a small laugh. “I feel sorry for any human unlucky enough to be tied to you.”

“I do too,” Wonwoo sighs. His indifference - and sometimes hatred - towards humans is well known in the vampire circles Wonwoo is a part of. He’s generally cold, unfeeling, a true vampire, the way his master made him. In fact, out of all twelve of Wonwoo’s broodmates, he’s likely the most successful by Sung’s measurements. He’d surely been the most strategically blood thirsty, and it had cost their former master his life. 

“You won’t be able to kill her,” Jeonghan warns. “Won’t be able to run away. If you’ve tasted her blood, if you’ve felt your heart, it’s only a matter of time until you give in again.”

Wonwoo hates that this is true. You’ve been on his mind the entire time he’s been away from you, and it’s already driving him insane. He’s not used to thinking about another being for long periods of time, least of all a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter.

“You’ll end up turning her,” Jeonghan concludes. “It’s the only way. Humans are fragile, and I know how much you hate to see weakness.”

You’ve been trying to find a way out of the bedroom for ages. There are no clocks, nothing to tell you what time it is, but you know dawn is coming, you can see it through the large windows that make up an entire wall of the room.

There’s safety in sunshine, and you’re extremely hopeful that it comes before Wonwoo does.

But your luck is not your own today, as you hear something outside the door just as the morning rays begin to creep through the glass. 

You make your way to the windows, pressing your body against them and waiting for the vampire to return. He takes his sweet time, and for that, you’re grateful. The room is half illuminated by the time Wonwoo opens the door, and he peers inside at you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, studying your seated form, back to the glass and morning sun.

“Protecting myself,” you fire back.

Wonwoo lets out a laugh, looking down where the sun reaches on the floor. Then, he steps into it. “Do you really think I’d have a room without tinted glass? The sunlight can’t touch me here. This is my safe haven, not yours.” 

Fuck.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me?” you ask, feeling defeated.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, walking over to the closet. 

He’s left the door wide open, and you eye it, wondering if you can make your escape.

“Don’t even think about it,” the vampire warns. “You won’t get far. I’ve installed an extra lock on my front door too, so even if you make it there, you have no way out.”

“How many people have you killed here?”

“None.” Wonwoo is looking through his clothing casually, back to you. You’re not sure if you can believe him. “Go on, check the doors.”

You dart from the room, quickly getting your bearings in the small but luxurious apartment. When you make it to the front door, you find he’s not lying. There’s an extra deadbolt on it, and try as you might, you can’t get it open.

You move to the kitchen next, looking for knives of any kind- but there’s literally nothing to be found in any of the cabinets. You suppose a vampire has no use for utensils or food- 

Instead, you unplug a lamp, picking it up to use as a bludgeoning weapon if the need arises. You stare toward Wonwoo’s bedroom, and he crosses your line of sight. He’s shirtless now, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips.

The sight is gone far too soon, and you wait, frozen with your lamp. 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t come out of his room.

After a few minutes, you go to peek inside. The vampire is laying in his bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep,” he muses almost lazily. “It’s been a long night.”

You’d heard rumours about vampires needing sleep, but you hadn’t actually believed the tales. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask.

“Get comfortable,” Wonwoo sighs. “You’re not going anywhere.” He opens his eyes when you stay standing in his doorway. “Put the lamp down.”

“No.”

The vampire lets out a laugh. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” you warn him.

“No you won’t.” Wonwoo rolls onto his side, facing away from you. The covers are around his hips, and you get a good view of his excessively broad shoulders. His skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight, only muscles for days.

You lower the lamp a little. 

This man is crazy. Absolutely batshit insane. 

You watch the vampire as he drifts to sleep, and as soon as you feel you’ve waited a substantial amount of time, you begin to tiptoe to his closet. Your blade has to be somewhere.

You’re hyper aware of the fact that at any moment, Wonwoo could wake up. You keep your noise level to a minimum, rifling through his things. Finally, after what feels like forever, you feel the tip of your blade under your fingers as you look through a folded pile of hoodies. 

The twisted knife pulls out from the fabric and you have to fight the urge to cry out in happiness. When you look over your shoulder, you find the vampire still asleep. He’s on his back now, and it would be the perfect opportunity to stake him.

You’re aware that if you kill him, it will be much harder to leave the apartment, but you’re confident that if you bang on the front door long and loudly enough, someone will come save you. 

You begin to tiptoe toward the bed, adjusting your grip on the knife. 

If there’s one thing you can say about vampires in general, it’s that they’re beautiful. Wonwoo looks absolutely angelic, even while asleep. You falter at the edge of the mattress, simply watching him. If he hadn’t nearly killed you last night, you might hesitate longer, but the memory brings your drive back, and you hold the blade over his chest.

But your hands can’t bring it down. You can’t pierce his skin the way he’d pierced your neck just hours ago.

Come on, you think to yourself. Just stake him. 

Wonwoo’s eyes open, and he simply stares at you for a moment. Then he grabs your hand, disarming the blade and tugging you roughly, sending you toppling onto the mattress next to him. 

“Fuck!” you scream, kicking and trashing against the vice grip he has on your wrist.

Wonwoo lets you go. “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t try.”

“I hate you!” you yell, sitting up only to be tugged back down again.

“No, you don’t.” Wonwoo straddles you this time, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other continues to hold your family blade. 

“I do!”

“I killed the vampire you were hunting, something you would have never been able to do. Some part of you must be grateful for that at least,” Wonwoo points out. “I’ve saved you from becoming a killer. Trust me, it’s not a weight you’d be able to hold easily.”

His words make your skin cold, and you stop wiggling beneath him, staring up at the beautiful vampire.

“There we go,” Wonwoo says, tone almost soothing. “If you’re good and calm, I’ll give you some information. Although, you won’t like what you’re about to hear.”

“Have you decided to kill me yet?” 

Wonwoo quickly shakes his head, releasing your wrists so he can sit straighter, staring down at your form. “I’m not really sure how to tell you this.”

“Just spit it out!”

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Wonwoo grins, tracing the tip of the blade across your collar bone and making you freeze. You’re breathing heavily, fighting every urge to try to push him off of you. “Fine, maybe I won’t tell you.”

He gets off of you, rolling onto his back again. He begins to play with the knife, gently tracing one of its edges.

“Tell me,” you press. “I’m being good.” 

Wonwoo laughs, and you hate how attracted you are to him when he smiles, his fangs all pointy and sharp. 

“Fate is like this blade,” he says finally.

“A killer?” you suggest after a moment of deliberation.

“Twisted,” Wonwoo corrects you. 

“Twisted how?”

“Sung. He ruined my life. Ruined yours. I killed him, thinking I knew everything there was to know, but there was still information he could have given me. Information that died with him, like the vampire hunter legacy that died with your parents. Now here we are, two remnants of the same past, our souls scarred, but entwined, twisted by fate.”

You’d definitely not pegged this vampire as a poet, but there’s something very genuine about the words leaving his pretty lips.

“What do you know of souls?” you ask, words dripping with vitriol. “You don’t have one.”

“It would appear I do,” Wonwoo muses. 

“Then what do you know about mine?” 

“Enough.” 

He’s told you something without telling you anything, and it’s infuriating.

“When I bit you, I felt something,” Wonwoo says quietly.

“Besides hunger?”

He grins at your sarcasm. “Yes, besides hunger.”

Wonwoo drags his finger across the blade again, but this time, it cuts him. You watch dark red blood bloom, and after a moment he brings it to his lips, licking it clean. By the time he pulls his hand away, you see the small cut has healed.

“When I bit you, my chest hurt.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I wasn’t sure at the time,” he admits. “But I know someone who’d felt something similar, so I went to talk to him. Do you want to know what he said?”

The anticipation is nearly killing you. “Yes.” 

“He revealed to me that amidst a world of vampires, witches and werewolves, there’s also such a thing as soulmates. And so, like this blade, fate is twisted.” 

You stare at the vampire, trying to process what he’s just said. 

But it doesn’t make sense to you.

“You can’t be saying that we’re soulmates-”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wonwoo shifts, holding the blade out to you. “Here, try to stake me again.”

After a moment of deliberation, you take the knife, lining it up with his throat. But try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to kill him, can’t even cut a tiny scratch against his perfect skin.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” you say finally, feeling completely defeated.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Wonwoo grins, but his smile tells you another story. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to sleep. You’re free to join me if you want.”

You take the knife away from his neck, releasing a loud sigh. “Just don’t bite me.”

“No promises.” Wonwoo rolls on his side again, back to you. 

You hate how calm he’s being about all of this, but you suppose that’s what happens when you’re the one holding all the cards. 

You can’t hurt him, but you’re pretty sure he can still hurt you, if that bite from last night is anything to go on. 

It takes an hour of letting him rest before you finally place the knife on the floor, settling into the bed with a huff. Your mind is completely full, but you’re exhausted too. Sleep finds you soon thereafter. 

You wake up cold, and it only takes a moment for you to realize why. There’s a vampire attached to your back, his chest pressed tightly to your form, skin like ice. 

You want to pull away, but you can’t. You’re stuck, trapped in his tight embrace. 

There has to be a way out of this, not only his arms but his apartment too. You’ll find a way, there has to be a way- 

With a few deep breaths, you’re finally able to get control of yourself, and you begin to shift away from Wonwoo- only for his grip to tighten on your body. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, voice groggy as if he’s just woken up.

“I have to get out of here,” you insist.

Wonwoo releases his hold on you, and you dart out of bed, looking around at the dark of the room. It’s evening already? How long did you sleep? When you look outside, you see the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple. 

“People will look for me,” you say, trying to reassure yourself.

“What people? Your family is dead.” 

He’s such an asshole. He can’t possibly be your soulmate, he can’t be-

You turn to look at Wonwoo, only to find him standing right in front of you. He’s so large, his chest perfectly muscled- and he’s staring at your neck.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn, clapping both hands over your throat.

He laughs. “But I’m thirsty.”

“How very enticing,” you say sarcastically. 

“I’ve been thinking.”

“You have?” you act shocked, picking up your blade.

“Put that down,” he tells you. “I’ve been thinking about something my friend told me. He said I’d have to turn you eventually.”

“Now I’m definitely not putting this down!” You brandish the knife at him and it only makes his grin wider. 

“You’re cute,” the vampire muses. “I can’t let you leave here while you’re human. It’s a dangerous world out there. Turning you would give me… security.”

“I’d still run,” you insist.

“You wouldn’t be able to. Not if I told you that you can’t.”

“I’d still try-”

Wonwoo bats the blade out of your hand, grabbing your wrists to pin them to your front while he steps closer. “You’re not listening,” he tuts. “Fledgelings can’t disobey their masters, and if I turned you-”

“You’ll never be my master,” you spit. 

“You might not like me now, but you’ll get over it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the fragility of your human body. I can turn you and you’ll be much more powerful. You’ll stay beautiful and young, forever.”

Blood is thrumming through your body, and so is fear. Your pulse is practically racing as you stare up at the vampire who thinks you’re his soulmate. 

How can he be so sure of this?

In the dark recesses of your mind, there’s some pleasure in being wanted, maybe even needed- but you push the thought away, struggling in his grasp. “Don’t do this.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, he simply steps closer, causing you to move back until you’re pressed between him and the wall. He stares down at you, an intensity in his eyes. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying, so be a good girl and try to be honest, okay?” 

“Screw you!”

He places both your wrists in one hand, bringing the other up to cup your cheek. “Would you hate me if I kissed you?”

“Yes!” 

“Lie,” he grins, leaning even closer. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me.”

“Another lie. Your heart jumped just now. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, your body always tells the truth.” 

You’re speechless, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” the vampire warns you. “It will be better if you try to enjoy yourself.” 

He gives you a moment to respond, but you can’t. There’s nothing you can say as Wonwoo closes the distance between your lips. It’s a soft kiss, much softer than you’d ever expected from him. Your body reacts, eyes closing, and you find yourself kissing him back.

Wonwoo grins, releasing your wrists in favour of grabbing your hip, pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, fighting the moan that bubbles in your chest. 

There’s something about this that feels electric, and after a mini battle with yourself, you give into the experience. Your hands grab at his strong shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as you kiss him back with more vigour, opening your mouth for him.

Wonwoo lets out a growl, deep in his chest, and the sound turns you on more than you’ll ever admit. His hand is bruising on your hip now, groping at your skin and slipping under your shirt. You shift in his embrace, pulling him closer when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck.

His hand on your cheek moves down, gently latching around your throat. The motion makes you gasp, and Wonwoo pulls away from your lips, staring down at you. “Thirsty.”

“You fucker-”

“Thirsty,” he repeats, pressing you against the wall and tightening his grip on your neck. You watch him drag his tongue across his sharp fangs. “Just say yes,” the vampire whispers. It almost sounds like he’s begging. 

You’re at war with yourself. Your body is clearly reacting to Wonwoo, but your mind still isn’t there yet. It’s almost torture, pressed to the wall by a man with a perfect body and power that practically thrums off of him.

You find yourself giving a small nod. “Don’t hurt me,” you plead.

“Never,” he promises, kissing you softly one last time before he arches your jaw to the side. You grab at his shoulders, ready to dig your nails in when you feel his fangs- 

His lips press to your throat and a shiver runs through your body. His tongue tastes your skin, drawing a circle that has you nearly dying with anticipation. When the bite finally comes, it’s not painful or sharp, it feels something like a hickey, and then it begins to throb.

A gasp tumbles out of you, and you cling to Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, closing your eyes. The vampire releases a groan, reaching for your hand so he can intertwine your fingers, squeezing gently. 

You’ve never felt close to someone like this, and the realization has your head spinning… or maybe that’s the blood loss. 

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, starting to worry at how long he’s been sucking on your throat.

The throbbing stops, and you feel his tongue gliding over the bite mark, an attempt to soothe your skin. Then he’s pulling away, looking down at you as he licks his lips clean of your blood.

“Good girl,” he praises you, letting go of your hand. “Your turn.” You watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, biting the tip before grabbing your jaw, pressing the digit into your mouth. “This will heal the mark,” Wonwoo explains, watching as you begin to suck on his thumb.

He doesn’t taste like blood. Instead, you’re reminded of strawberries and stone fruits. You swirl your tongue around his digit, sucking him deeper into your mouth-

“That’s it,” the vampire groans, slowly pulling his thumb from you. He drags it across your lip. “All better.”

When you touch your throat, you find only perfect skin. There’s nothing to suggest you’ve just been bitten by a vampire. 

“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo leans down, his lips ghosting over your own, “you taste delicious.”

“You-” you swallow thickly, “you do too.”

“Yeah?” He grins. 

You can only nod, leaning forward eagerly to capture him in a kiss again. 

You’re hungry for him, hungry in a way you’ve never been before, hungry for more.

Wonwoo gives into your needs, working his lips against yours harder while his hands find your hips again. Your own fingers trace his broad shoulders, dipping down to tease over his chest before finding his abs-

“That’s enough for tonight,” Wonwoo says suddenly, pulling away.

You realize you’d been about to grab his sweat pants, and you feel slightly embarrassed. You’re not sure what’s come over you-

“Sorry-”

“As much as I’d love to give you everything you want, as a human, I’d break you much too easily, darling.” 

Is he… is he going to withhold sex unless you become a vampire?

Jesus, are you actually considering this now?

What has this man done to you?

“I’m going out,” Wonwoo announces.

“Where?”

“The club. You were a tasty treat, but I’ll need more soon.”

For some reason, the thought of him biting anyone else makes you almost jealous. “Take me with you.”

“To the vampire club?” Wonwoo laughs as he heads to his closet. “No.”

“Please?” 

“No.”

“Why not?” you ask.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“What if I stick to your side all night?” 

He turns to look at you, cocking a brow. “Not thinking of running anymore?”

You shake your head quickly.

“Shame, a lie,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I guess… anywhere you go, I’ll find you.” He reaches out, wrapping his hands around your throat and pulling you closer. “You’re mine. If you run, the consequence will be a turning, does that sound fair?”

You feel like you’re gambling with fate, but you nod all the same.

“Say it,” the vampire tells you. 

“If… If I run, you can turn me.”

Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then he releases your throat. “Fine. You can come to the club. We’ll get you food along the way if you promise to be good.”

Entering the club with Wonwoo is extremely different from entering alone. The bouncers seem to know the vampire with his hand firmly wrapped around your own, and although they give you odd looks, no one says anything.

The crowd parts for Wonwoo, and you feel eyes drilling into your form. 

It had taken months to track down this specific club, there are few vampire safe havens like this one, and people tend to keep their mouth shut about this sort of thing. Yet, within the location itself, everyone seems to know who’s vampire and who’s human. It’s an unspoken hierarchy, one you’re disturbing by being so close to Wonwoo while still owning a pulse.

Wonwoo leads you to the booth section you’d found him in last night. There are three vampires already sitting there, and they all stare as you approach. “Shouldn’t have brought you here,” Wonwoo sighs.

“Why not?”

“They’re never going to let me live this down,” he explains. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

It’s an interesting notion, the idea that you’re bringing down this asshole vampire’s street cred. But at the same time, you didn’t force him to bring you here. You’ll never be able to force Wonwoo to do anything.

The vampire with the longest hair stands up from the booth as you approach, and you’re shocked when he smiles at you. “This must be her,” he says, holding out a hand. When you take it, instead of shaking, the beautiful man leans down to kiss your knuckles. 

“This is Jeonghan,” Wonwoo tells you.

You give the vampire your own name, and when you hear Wonwoo whispering it behind you, you realize he’s yet to learn it. Had you really gone this long without introducing yourself to him properly? Had you let him bite you, and kiss you, and call you good girl, all without knowing your name?

“You’re the vampire hunter,” comes the next voice, and the tallest vampire you’ve ever seen stands to tower over you. “I thought you’d be dead by now.”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo warns, his hand moving to the small of your back in an almost protective gesture.

“Vampire hunter?” The third man cocks his head. “I see you’ve brought us a pretty little juice box.”

“Joshua,” now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to scold someone, and you realize through the long haired vampire’s behaviour that he must be the friend Wonwoo went to see about soulmates. There’s definitely a softness to him that the others don’t have, an understanding.

“Is she not dinner?” Joshua simply blinks in confusion, unable to see what he’s done wrong.

“A fang bunny then, not dinner,” the final vampire suggests.

“Excuse Soonyoung and Joshua,” Jeonghan sighs, addressing you again, “looks don’t account for manners. How about I take you down to the bar for a drink and Wonwoo can explain to our friends what’s going on,” he leans closer, lowering his voice, “Wonwoo’s never brought a girl home, I’m sure you can understand the surprise.”

You’d promised Wonwoo you’d stay by his side all night, and you can’t help but look at him for permission to leave with Jeonghan. Your vampire mate meets your gaze with a steady look, and he gives you a quick nod before turning to his friends again.

Jeonghan takes your hand, pulling you away from the table and back toward the bar. “You two look good together,” he muses. “Fragility looks nice next to Wonwoo’s controlled chaos, it’s a good balance.”

“What’s with you vampires and hating human fragility?” you ask.

“I can’t speak for all vampires, but I can tell you it’s a trait of our fledgling group. Our old master was… brutal, to say the least. It left its scars.” Jeonghan looks down, and you can see an unreadable emotion cross his face. But he’s forcing a smile a moment later. “It doesn’t matter, Sung is gone, we’re free now.”

So Wonwoo hadn’t only freed himself and you when he’d killed his maker. How many people had he saved? You’d seen the act as something of a bloodthirsty move of defiance, but you  hadn’t been aware of the domino effect of it all, hadn’t been aware that Sung had been cruel to humans and vampires alike, even his own spawn. 

The bartender comes over with two glasses of red wine, and you reach for yours, only to have Jeonghan’s cold fingers latch around your wrist. “Don’t drink that,” he warns you, eyes shifting to the human bartender. “She’s not a red wine lover.”

“I can drink this-”

Jeonghan leans closer, voice lowering. “It’s blood, darling.”

Your eyes dip to the glass of red liquid and you pull your hand away, swallowing thickly. Something tells you this blood wouldn’t taste like Wonwoo’s had, there’d be no strawberries and stone fruit, only harsh metalics. 

“What would you like to drink?” Jeonghan asks.

You give your order and the bartender scurries away. Jeonghan moves both glasses of blood in front of himself, lifting one to his lips. 

“Stupid humans,” he mutters, only realizing his mistake a moment later. “Not you of course, as Wonwoo’s soulmate, you’re an extension of us.”

It’s very odd to be accepted like this. You’ve never met any vampires like these ones, and they’re reshaping your view of things that go bump in the night.

Your gaze moves back to the table of vampires, and you’re shocked to find Wonwoo standing with a new person you’ve not yet met. They’re comparable in size, and from your distance, it almost looks like they’re arguing. Then you see Wonwoo motion, pointing toward the hallway that leads to the alley he’d taken you last night.

“Jeonghan?” You tap on the man’s arm. “Who’s that with Wonwoo?”

“Shit,” Jeonghan cusses. “He’s bad news.”

And here you’d thought Wonwoo was bad news, can this new man be even worse?

You watch the two heated vampires begin to head through the crowd, clearly intent on taking this outside. Mingyu, Joshua and Soonyoung watch from the booth, but they don’t make a move to follow. 

“Does- does Wonwoo need backup?” you ask.

Jeonghan considers it for a moment. “Doubtful. He’d probably be mad if we went out after him.”

As you watch Wonwoo disappear, your heart clenches in your chest. “I think we should follow.”

“He’s fine,” Jeonghan assures you.

“I don’t care.”

“Wonwoo wouldn’t want you there,” the vampire tries to convince you. “You’re fragile, human, it would only make things worse.”

“Screw that.”

“Your drink isn’t even here yet-”

But you’re already moving away from the bar, and Jeonghan scrambles to follow you, grabbing both glasses of wine. “This is a bad idea,” he insists, but you’re done listening to him. “Wonwoo can take care of himself.”

To be fair, that might be true. However, there’s a pull, deep in your chest. Something tells you Wonwoo will need you soon, although you’re not quite sure in what capacity. 

Your pace quickens as you head down the dark hallway, and you push open the exit door, quickly looking around. 

Wonwoo has the other vampire pressed to the brick wall behind the bar, and they’re grappling at each other, practically snarling. You have no clue who’s the aggressor, but you know who the winner will be, and you reach into your jacket for your blade.

“Wonwoo!” you scream, catching his attention for a moment, but it’s all you need to toss the weapon toward him. He catches it easily, driving the stake into the other man without a second thought.

A choked sound leaves you, and a hand covers your eyes. Jeonghan presses against your back, cradling you while you hear the sounds of your vampire mate eviscerating his opponent. 

Jeonghan turns you in his arms. “Don’t look,” he urges, removing his palm from your view. He’s still holding a wine glass, and you see the other sitting on the garbage can a few feet away. The sight of the blood makes your stomach churn. You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but it’s difficult in a situation like this.

Something moves in the periphery of your vision and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, reaching for the wine glass. His skin is marred with red, his hair a tangle of curls. Your mate’s eyes are dark, and he closes them as he downs the red liquid, tossing the glass to the side when he’s through with it. The cup shatters across the alleyway. 

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, reaching for him, needing to check if he’s hurt.

“Why did you two come out here?” he asks, staring at Jeonghan.

“She insisted.”

Oh, to be thrown under the bus by a vampire.

Wonwoo cracks a grin, gaze shifting to you. “Brat.” 

“Killer,” you retort.

“He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. 

He’s covered in blood and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in-

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily.

At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. 

It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

Wonwoo lets you go, turning to his friend. “Help me with the body,” he instructs.

“The club owner isn’t going to like this,” Jeonghan groans, although he does as he’s told, following Wonwoo toward the body crumpled by the wall.

The vampire has been practically torn to pieces- you shift your gaze again, wiping at your mouth just in case there’s any blood on your skin.

“I’ll explain what happened,” Wonwoo says. 

“Explain it to me then.”

You focus on the ground, not wanting to look as you hear the two vampires open a large dumpster. 

Wonwoo has lowered his voice to respond to his friend, but you hear the words soulmate and threatened. 

Had this killing been over you? The thought makes your stomach tie into knots again.

“You can’t bring her here again, not while she’s still human,” Jeonghan muses.

“You think I don’t know that?” Wonwoo snaps. “I didn’t even want to bring her today!”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s hard to say no to her, something you should understand. Can’t believe you let her come out here-”

“I didn’t let her do anything,” Jeonghan insists. “That soulmate of yours has a mind of her own. Besides, my hands were full.”

Your eyes shift to the glass of wine still sitting on a small trash can, and you move to retrieve it. 

“You’ll get this properly cleaned up, won’t you?” Wonwoo asks.

“Yeah, I got you,” Jeonghan sighs. “But you owe me one.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” 

You hear them walking over again, and you turn to face the approaching vampires, holding out the ‘wine’ for Jeonghan.

“Thank you, darling,” he offers you a smile, taking the glass. 

You can only nod, gaze shifting to Wonwoo, who still looks gorgeous even while covered in blood. 

He takes your hand gently. “Come on, brat, let’s get out of here.”

Mingyu had come around with his car to take you home, helping avoid any uber drivers who would take one look at Wonwoo’s blood-speckled face and driven the other way. It had been a tense ten minutes, with hardly a word spoken.

Now, you’re in Wonwoo’s bathroom, helping him take off his shirt so you can wash him clean.

He watches as you ring out a warm soapy cloth, bunching it up and bringing it toward his shoulders first. It’s hard to focus with his intense gaze fixed on you, but you do your best, wiping away the blood from his throat.

“I have to turn you,” he says.

You sigh. “I know.”

“Are you upset with me?”

You shake your head, daring a look into his dark eyes. 

The vampire cocks his head, hands finding your hips while he leans back against the sink. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “One bite, I’ll nearly drain you, and on the cusp between life or death, I’ll give you my own blood. You’ll probably pass out, for a little while, and when you wake up, you’ll be like me.”

“Except you’ll be my master,” you point out, drawing the cloth across his bloody cheekbone. 

“I won’t abuse that power.”

For some reason, you believe him.

Silence fills the bathroom while you continue to clean him, but your mind is very much active. 

You’ve spent over ten years with one goal and one goal only, to avenge your parents. You’d been told it was a fool's errand, so you’d never quite planned for what came next. Part of you had always expected to die young- and if you’d been at the house instead of with a friend the day Sung had come for your family, you would have. 

The idea of living forever is a lot to grapple with, but Wonwoo’s the one that makes it possible.

He’d completed your life task, and now, he’s offering you a new path, one that’s rich with shadows, but also love. In a way, maybe you can’t ask for anything more than that.

“Do you think it will satisfy you?” you question. “Having me when you know I can’t refuse you?”

Wonwoo considers you for a moment, and his silence makes you anxious.

“I just mean…” you bite at your lip, cleaning the last speckle of blood from his skin before tossing the cloth down. “Wouldn’t it be better to have me for the first time while I’m still human? When you know I’m saying yes out of my own free will?”

“Darling,” his fingers dig into your hips, “are you asking me to fuck you?”

“I’m just- I know I want you, I think that much is obvious. I just think that if I wait to have you until after I’m a vampire, maybe there will always be a part of me that questions it. I want to experience you now, as I am, as a human.”

“It’s an interesting proposition,” Wonwoo admits.

“Just interesting?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

Wonwoo straightens. No longer leaning against the sink, he towers over you again, and it takes your anxieties away. 

“Is this really what you want?” he asks.

You take a deep breath and nod. 

“I’ll be as gentle as I know how,” he reaches out, brushing his fingers along your arm, “but I can’t make any promises.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I like rough.”

“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer. 

It feels amazing to be pressed against him now, your palms coming to rest on his broad chest. He’s so beautiful, you can hardly control yourself around him anymore. 

“I want you to ravage me,” you tell him. “And when we both finish, you can turn me. I think… I think I’m ready for my life with you. There’s nothing for me with the old one anyways, not anymore.” 

The vampire studies you, and you avert your gaze, only for his fingers to find the bottom of your chin. He tilts your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you,” Wonwoo whispers, and then he leans in to press his lips against yours.

You melt against his chest, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Your mouth parts much too easily for Wonwoo, and he drags his tongue along yours, earning a sigh of relief from deep within you. Your brain has been so full since seeing Wonwoo eviscerate that rival vampire, it’s good to be in your body now, mind going numb from your soulmate’s touch.

In one easy motion, Wonwoo turns you so you’re the one with your back to the sink. He bends down, tearing your pants off before grabbing your thighs and lifting you onto the counter, slotting between your legs while he kisses you harder. 

His hands find your shirt, and you break the kiss to tear it off, leaving you in your underwear. Wonwoo’s lips find your neck, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning. You throw your head back, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “Bite me,” you urge him, missing the sensation.

The vampire grins against your throat, and you feel his fangs a moment later. He doesn’t tease you with kisses or licking this time, he simply sinks his teeth into you. The throbbing feeling courses through you and you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders while Wonwoo drinks from you. 

You’ve never felt close to someone like this before. Wonwoo is grabbing your hips hard, leaning closer while he uses you for his own strength. He presses forward, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans, denim catching against your panties. Then his hands slip behind you, and he undoes your bra, tearing it off. 

Your nipples pebble in the cool of the bathroom, and Wonwoo’s cold hands don’t help any as they move up to cup your breasts. Your soulmate pulls away from your throat, releasing a groan.

Warm blood begins to drip down your skin, he’d bitten you harder than last time. As the track of red makes it to your nipple, Wonwoo bends down, capturing the sensitive bud in his mouth and licking roughly. 

You whimper at the sensation, tangling your fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up, collecting all the blood that’s just spilt from your neck. The vampire groans when he makes it to your bite mark, and he adjusts slightly, biting his thumb before pressing it into your mouth. “Need you healed or I might lose control,” he says, voice husky.

You can only suck in his digit, closing your eyes and enjoying the tingly feeling of your wound disappearing. 

Your soulmate pulls his hand from your mouth, bringing his newly spit-covered fingers to your panty-clad core. He applies a good amount of pressure to your clit and you cry out, grabbing at his jaw to bring his lips back to yours.

The vampire rubs you teasingly, working you up until you’re practically rutting against his hand. “Please,” you moan, feeling absolutely desperate now.

Wonwoo rewards you by pushing your panties to the side, sinking two fingers into your hot core while you groan into each other’s mouths. 

“Already so wet for me,” Wonwoo muses. “Is this how you always react to vampires, darling?”

You shake your head, whimpering as he strokes your inner walls expertly. “Just you,” you tell him.

Wonwoo lets out a growl. With his free hand he grabs your wrist, bringing your palm to his chest. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?”

At first, you’re confused, but then you feel something, a rough thumping, as if his heart is clawing to get out of his ribcage. “I’m doing this to you?” you ask in wonder.

“And this,” he guides your hand down further, so you can feel how hard he is in his jeans now. 

“Fuck, you’re big-”

Wonwoo laughs, working his fingers into you even harder. “Think you’ll be able to make it fit?”

“Uh huh,” you nod eagerly. “We’ll make it fit.” 

His digits crook up, stroking a spot that has your thighs quivering around his hips. You squeeze his cock through his jeans, hoping to drive Wonwoo even a fraction as wild as he’s driving you.

Your soulmate lets out a satisfied groan, and the sound goes straight to your core, which squelches around his fingers. “I’m close,” you warn him, nearly panting now as the orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo grinds his palm against your clit and you’re nearly seeing stars. 

You let go of his cock, needing to anchor yourself on his strong shoulders as he leans in to kiss your throat. He focuses on the spot he’d bitten, and even though it’s healed, you’re still sensitive there, sending throbbing tingles through your form.

“Fuck, Wonwoo-” You clench your eyes shut as you reach your high, your entire being now consumed with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. It’s almost an out of body experience, your cries leaving your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulders, throbbing ceaselessly with ecstasy. 

“That’s it, pet,” Wonwoo coos, fingers continuing to abuse your hole even as your walls contract around him. “Who’s my good little human?”

“Me,” you whimper, threading your hand through his hair so you can keep him to your throat. You almost want to ask him to bite you again, but you hold yourself back, enjoying the last moments of your orgasm.

You finish with a gasp, breathing hard. 

Wonwoo takes his hand from your core, pulling away from your neck. He watches you with dark eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. The vampire lets out a groan. “Everything about you tastes so fucking sweet, darling.”

God. You need him like you’ve never needed anyone in your whole life.

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?” he teases.

“Take me,” you whisper. “Make me yours.”

“Darling,” Wonwoo leans closer, his lips ghosting over your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He pulls you off the sink, tucking you close to his chest and carrying you back to the bedroom. The lights are off, and when he gently places you on the bed, his beautiful frame is illuminated from the glow of the bathroom. 

You can’t see his face, but you can see he’s smiling, and his fangs flash. His hands move to his belt and he undoes it. You bite at your lip, sitting up onto your elbows while you watch him. 

He pushes his pants down, and you can just make out the impressive size of his cock. “Wish I could see you,” you muse.

“I can see you,” he retorts. “When I turn you, you’ll be able to see in the dark too.”

“Are you really going to make me wait?”

“You won’t have to wait long,” Wonwoo reminds you. “You can be patient for this first time, can’t you, human? After tonight, we’ll have forever.”

You can’t even imagine what forever entails, and you distract yourself from it by pulling your panties down, tossing them to the floor. You spread your legs for the vampire at the foot of the bed and he releases a groan.

“You are beautiful,” he admits.

“Even for a human?”

“Even for a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo presses a knee to the bed.

“Thought you said I was a sorry excuse for a vampire hunter.” 

“I may have said something along those lines,” he grins.

“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt-”

Wonwoo presses his hand to the bed next to your head, leaning over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. “Are you looking for an apology, darling?”

“It would help,” you sigh, enjoying the way he ruts his cock against your hot core.

“I’m sorry I called you a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo smirks, “I was having a bad day, and I misspoke… you’re a darling little human who’s about to become a vampire fucker.”

“Wonwoo-” you push at his chest, hating how harsh his words sound.

“You’re right,” your soulmate concedes, “you’re not a vampire fucker, I’m the one on top.”

“You’re horrible!” you screech, but at the same time, you’re giggling now.

“Tell me you love it,” he insists, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you stupid. That you don’t want me to sink my fangs into this pretty throat and make you mine, my eternal mate, untouchable to anyone but me.”

It does sound nice, and you shiver as Wonwoo presses his cold body down against yours.

“I’ll enjoy it once you’re turned,” Wonwoo breathes. “You won’t be able to be bratty with me. I’ll ask you what's on your mind and you’ll have to answer.”

“I’m just thinking how nice this is going to be,” you admit.

“Nice?” He laughs, pulling away to look down at you. 

“Obviously it will be a lot to figure out,” you back pedal slightly, “but… I don’t know, you really are my soulmate, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

The vampire simply blinks. 

“What?” you ask, cupping his face.

“This is the first time you’ve admitted it,” Wonwoo points out. 

“I wouldn’t let you bite me if you weren’t,” you remind him. “Wouldn’t let you fuck me-”

“I haven’t fucked you yet,” your soulmate grins, pushing his hips so his cock brushes by your clit as if to prove his point.

“And I’m devastated,” you say dramatically. “Please, Wonwoo- just fuck me!”

Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you love that he’s smiling into the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his hair, hooking your legs tighter around his hips. You’re still so wet from his fingers, and each small drag of his cock between your pussy lips feels like heaven. 

He’s such a tease, but you kind of love it.

The vampire adjusts slightly, reaching between your bodies, and then his cock slides into you. It’s just the head at first, but it’s enough to have you gasping and clawing at him. He thrusts shallowly, pushing deeper and deeper until his hips are flush to your own and every impressive inch of him is stretching you open.

“Fuck-” you whimper, toes curling from how full you feel.

Wonwoo collects one of your hands, linking your fingers and pressing it down against the pillow. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, my pretty human?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “I told you,” you lean up, letting your lips ghost past his while you stare into his eyes, “ravage me.”

Your vampire lover groans, smashing his mouth to yours and squeezing your hand, then he begins to thrust into you and your mind goes completely blank. He fills you up perfectly- it’s like you were always meant to be full in this way. 

Now that you’ve tasted this, how can you ever get enough?

You can tell he’s holding back, can tell he’s still trying to be careful with your fragile form. You lock your legs tighter around his hips, a wordless encouragement to go harder. You wonder what it’s going to be like once you’re on his level, once you’re a vampire like him. If sex with him feels this good and he’s only at a fraction of his power, you bet undying fucking will kill you all over again.

Each snap of his hips presses his cock deep into your core, and your walls greedily eat him up. You’re moaning desperately against his mouth, squeezing his hand while tangling your fingers through his hair with the other. 

Wonwoo’s fangs drag by your lip, teasing you just enough to be on the verge of painful. 

You’re so lost in him you don’t even care, you bite him back, tugging on his curls and whimpering a sound of affirmation. This time, when his teeth make contact with your lip, it’s with enough force to pierce. 

Wonwoo groans immediately, suckling on your lower lip. It’s throbbing slightly, but unlike when he goes for your neck, his teeth aren’t still inside of you. He’s simply made a small incision, and now your vampire lover is making the most of it, kissing you so greedily that you can’t even taste the metallic proof of what he’s just done.

He simply can’t get enough of you, and you can’t get enough of him. You push on the hand capturing yours to the bed and Wonwoo relents, allowing you to grab at his shoulder while he fucks you harder, pressing you into the mattress.

With his fingers now free, he shoves them between your bodies, rubbing your clit and making your legs shake around his hips. 

With each lick and suck at your bleeding lip, he’s getting rougher with you. Your life’s blood is giving him strength, making him more feral, and you’re enjoying the show. 

Your pussy is throbbing again, just like your lip, and you know you’re achingly close to another orgasm. When has cumming ever been this easy? Wonwoo feels like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, you’re still not sure.

“Close, darling?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his tongue across your teeth. You taste something on him, and realize he’s bitten himself, allowing his blood to heal your lip wound just as suddenly as it had been given. 

You nod, crying out as he rubs your clit harder. He stares down at you, in the dark there are angular shadows on his face, his pretty cheekbones all sharp-

“You look…” he licks his lips, “beautiful.”

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, body shuddering at the praise, your core twisting and aching as he continues to fuck into you wildly.

“That’s it,” the vampire coos, “cum on my cock, I need to feel you.”

You literally can’t help yourself. His voice is too sexy, his cock is too big, and you’re way too deep into the kinkiness of bloodsharing vampire sex to refuse any command he gives you. You let out a cry of ecstasy as your second orgasm of the night slams into you, ravaging your form and making you see stars.

Wonwoo buries his face against your neck, teasing you with his teeth and tounge while he fucks you through his high. With each second of overstimulated pleasure, you hang on the edge of anticipation, wondering if he’s about to bite you-

But he doesn’t. He simply works you through your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.

You can feel tears in your eyes, but you’re not quite sure why they’re there.

When Wonwoo looks down at you again, he notices your tears, his brows furrowing. But he doesn’t question you on it, he simply brushes them away with his thumb while you shiver and recollect yourself after that mind numbing high.

You drag his face in for a kiss, pouring all your emotions into the merging of your lips. It must be clear to him that you’re okay, that you’re feeling just a little broken right now- but to be fair, you had asked him to ravage you.

There are underlying feelings being brought up, and in the periphery of your mind, you’re questioning your own mortality.

This is your last night on earth as a human, your last hour even- and although you know Wonwoo will take care of you, there’s something scary about it.

You’re diving into the deep, dark, unknown with your new soulmate, entrusting him as your guide after living an entire life without trusting anyone.

Trusting feels foreign to you, but you do trust Wonwoo, and that’s a scary thought in and of itself.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing thickly and letting out a shaky breath, “I’m ready for more.”

“I’d almost worried I’d broken you,” Wonwoo admits, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

“It was a good broken,” you tell him, heart swelling in your chest at the fact that he’d been concerned for you. 

“And now my little human wants more,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re not as fragile as you look, are you, darling?”

You shake your head.

“Think you can get on your knees for me?” the vampire asks, pushing his body weight off of you.

“Uh huh,” you nod, whimpering a little at the loss of his cock from your core. You get into position, turning your back to him and adjusting on your knees, wiggling you ass gently to entice him.

“Pretty human,” Wonwoo breathes, hands ghosting down your sides before taking two fistfuls of your bum and squeezing. 

You feel his cock at your entrance again, and he pushes into you, making you both moan. In this position it almost feels like he hits deeper. You go fully doggy, resting your face against his pillows and arching your back.

“I’d tell you to be good for me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked the brat out of you already. Isn’t that right, darling?” He lands a gentle smack to your ass that has you whimpering. 

He’s such a cocky asshole and it makes you groan. You can feel yourself throb around him at his words, betraying what you really think about the line he’s just used on you.

“That’s what I thought.” You can practically hear him grinning, and his hands move to your waist. His touch is almost bruising, but it feels so good as he begins to thrust into you again. Each movement has his hips hitting your ass, and the sound of sex fills the room.

You love the noises he’s making, soft, breathy groans, and deep rumbles that border on growls. There’s no time for talking anymore, your mind is much more preoccupied in the pleasure building within you both.

You’re still sensitive from two orgasms, so when you slip your hand under your body to rub your clit, your pussy immediately reacts. You clench tightly around Wonwoo, who lets out a moan at the sensation, fucking you even harder and faster.

Each thrust has you crying out now, whines of desperation slipping out of you while you rub your clit, eyes shut. 

Suddenly, Wonwoo is wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, pulling you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. His lips ghost by your ear. “So eager to cum again?” he asks.

You can only nod, grabbing at the forearm now pinned against your front while Wonwoo’s other hand tightens around your neck. He’s buried deep inside of you now, unmoving, and you’ve never felt this full.

“You know what happens when you cum, don’t you, darling?” 

“I-” You’re so delirious from his cock you can’t even think.

“‘When we cum, you can turn me,’ that’s what you said, wasn’t it, pet?” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “Are you really that eager? Or just a little dim with my cock buried so deep in this perfect pussy of yours?”

“I remember,” you gasp, head beginning to swim with how hard he’s gripping your throat.

“So you are eager,” the vampire confirms. “That’s cute.” 

He lets go of you, pushing you down to the bed. His hand finds the back of your neck and he holds your face down, grabbing your hip with the other. “I guess you can cum as fast as you want, little pet. I’d be happy to taste you again.”

You’re gasping against the pillow, enjoying how rough he’s being with you now. There’s something about having his hand on your neck, keeping you down while he begins to fuck into you again. 

“Are you close?” you ask, enjoying the groans leaving his own lips.

Wonwoo laughs. “When you cum, I cum.”

“Lucky me,” you whisper, reaching for your clit again. Your pussy pulses with ecstasy as you begin to rub the sensitive nub, your eyes closing from the pleasure. 

“Naughty human,” Wonwoo states, but there’s something like pride in his tone. “I guess I haven’t fucked the brat out of you just yet.”

“You love that I’m a brat,” you insist. “It gives you something you want to control, and we both know how much you like control.”

Wonwoo’s thrusts falter ever so slightly. “I didn’t realize you knew me so well, little soulmate.”

“I do,” you groan. “Just like I know that if I start begging, you’ll really lose your head.”

Wonwoo lets out a laugh, and you see it as a challenge.

“Please,” you whimper, rubbing your clit harder and cutting off your soulmate’s laugh. “Please, Wonwoo, I’m so close-”

The vampire behind you lets out a growl, fucking you faster. His grip on your neck pushes you down against the bed more, but it does nothing to muffle the begging that’s beginning to tumble past your lips.

“Want you to fill me up. Want you to make me see stars. Want you to bite me like only you can-”

“Fuck-” Wonwoo groans.

Suddenly he’s letting go of your neck and flipping you over. You’re not on your back for even a moment before he’s pushing into your core again, his lips eager against your own. His tongue invades your mouth, shutting up your begging while you tangle your fingers through his hair.

One of his hands is planted on the pillow next to you, and the other is on your hip, digging into your skin while he fucks you so hard the bed shakes.

“Please,” you whimper, so close to the edge you can almost taste it again.

Wonwoo’s mouth moves to your throat and your entire body tenses with anticipation, teetering on the edge of pleasure that you know is going to be nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before.

You drag your fingers against his scalp, panting hard. “Bite me,” you beg. “Bite me, please- I’ll cum so hard if you just bite me-”

The vampire lets out a primal groan, and then his teeth are sinking into your flesh. The throbbing sensation erupts through your entire body, going straight to your core, which clenches desperately around Wonwoo’s cock. 

A strangled cry leaves your lips as your orgasm overtakes you. Your grip tightens in Wonwoo’s hair, holding him to your throat as you ascend to a height of pleasure that has you weak all over- 

From the noises leaving your soulmate, you know he’s just cum too, and the thought makes your body tingle as he drinks steadily from your neck. 

His thrusts begin to slow, but the speed to which he’s devouring you remains a constant. Suddenly, you realize that there’s no coming back from cloud 9, you’re simply floating- floating, floating, with only his hair as your anchor, but soon, you begin to lose your grip on even that.

Your throat is really pulsing now, but it’s getting noticeably weaker, and the heat of the bite is dying down. Maybe it’s not the only thing dying, you realize, with your eyes closed and your lids too heavy to lift.

Something presses to your lips, filling your mouth with a familiar flavour. 

Strawberries and stone fruits.

You do your best to swallow, but it’s kind of difficult. You’re so tired, so very tired-

“Drink up, darling,” Wonwoo says. His voice feels far away. “Come back to me. I’m not done with you yet.”

Part of you wishes you could simply drift off, but your soulmate's words are enticing. You push yourself to do as he says, drinking the sweet nectar and regaining your strength, drawing you back to him. 

When you’re finally able to open your eyes, Wonwoo isn’t on top of you anymore. He’s laying in bed next to you, watching. 

You roll onto your side, mirroring him. “Did I pass out?”

“I warned you that might happen,” he reminds you, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from your face. 

His touch sends sparks through your body and you lick your lips, feeling pulled to the man in front of you. That’s when you realize, the lights are still off, but you can see Wonwoo perfectly. “I’m like you now,” you whisper.

“You’re like me,” Wonwoo agrees. “Do you have any regrets?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Do you?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Just one.”

“Yeah?” You shift closer, palms flattening against his cold chest. 

“After you passed out, I realized there’s one thing I never said to you while you were human, not in so many words, at least.” 

“It’s not like you’ve known me long,” you try to assure him.

“That doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo insists. “I still should have said it. Like you wanting to experience me while still human, I should have said it while you still had a heart that beats.”

“I hate to break it to you, mister vampire,” you grin, taking his hand and pressing it to your chest, “but my dead heart is beating for you the same way yours beats for me. Just say it now.”

Wonwoo takes his hand from your chest, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I love you, even though I thought I’d never love anyone. I thought I’d be alone forever, but now… here you are. And I… I love you.” 

You grin at your vampire mate, adoring how vulnerable he’s being with you. “I also thought I’d be alone forever,” you admit. “Thought I’d die young and bloody, which, I guess is kind of true, but you’ve given me something new, something I could have never imagined, and I can’t wait to explore this second life with you. I love you too, Wonwoo, as crazy as it sounds.”

Wonwoo grins, and you return the expression. His thumb moves up to drag past your teeth. “The fangs suit you, my love,” he muses.

The petname makes you smile wider, shifting closer and wrapping your leg around his hip, mounting the pretty vampire. “Hungry,” you whisper, leaning down to press your lips to his neck.

“We’ll have to go get you some food.”

“Not for that,” you laugh, licking his throat. “For you.”

“Are you sure you’re strong enough, darling?” Wonwoo asks. “You’ve just been turned, maybe you should rest-”

“I’ve got strength enough to have you again, that is… if you have the energy, my big, scary, vampire master.”

Now it’s his turn to moan at the new petname, even if it is said slightly in jest.

“Still a brat,” Wonwoo muses, fingers skimming down your sides. 

“You’ll be entertained forever,” you insist.

“And what if master tells you to be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth shut?”

You laugh. “Then you’d miss me after a minute and ask me to start begging again.”

Wonwoo sighs in defeat, then he’s rolling the two of you so you’re on your back, pressed between him and the mattress. “I guess we might as well start your new life off with a bang, shouldn’t we, my love?”

“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you admit.

Wonwoo only laughs, pressing his lips to yours. You might have forever with him, but right now, you’re as eager and needy as you’ve ever been, and he doesn’t mind catering to you, not one bit. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Vampire Wonwoo just bites different- I know I say that about every new fic but for real, I'd initially planned on this being a more slow burn but Soulmate sexy vampire asshole Wonwoo? as if we all wouldn't be climbing that man like a tree

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “Tell me what you want.” You kind of hate it when he uses his vampire master abilities on you, but at the same time, it allows you to dish out your darkest fantasies with no fear of disapproval. “I want you to make me cum so hard I can’t even think.”

cw/ tw. Oral (f receiving), blood play/vampiric drinking from each other, biting, roughhousing, fingering, orgasm control, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, overstim, man handling, pinning, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, size kink, soft dom wonwoo, mentions of wandering eyes, multiple reader orgasms, thigh grinding, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) brat, darling.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!reader

bonus

“Bratty baby is at it again,” Jeonghan says fondly, watching you saunter away from the table with Mingyu toward the bar. “Serves you right for staring at that juice box.”

“You’re not going to take my side on this one?” Wonwoo laughs, amused at the night's turn of events.

“Not a chance,” the long-haired vampire grins. “I don’t know why you’d even need to look at any of these fang bunnies with a soulmate like her.”

Wonwoo sighs, knowing his friend is right. He still can’t help but defend himself. “A man gets thirsty.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jeonghan retorts, swirling the liquid in his wine glass. “You gave up fang bunnies and juice boxes the moment you met your soulmate, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, eyes shifting to you again. He supposes it’s only fair that you get to flirt with the bartender after he’d just been caught looking at a scantily clad woman, but the fairness of the situation does little to lessen the fire building inside of him.

You should know by now that he only has eyes for you… even if his gaze wanders from time to time. He can’t help his predatory instincts, although, he should get more of a manage on them. In fact, he should stop bringing you to vampire bars altogether, but it’s difficult to resist a night out amongst his brood mates. 

“We all know this is a kink of theirs,” Joshua muses. “They fight a little, piss each other off, and then they fuck in the back of Mingyu’s car while he drives them home like a chauffeur.”

“That’s only happened twice,” Wonwoo insists.

Joshua scoffs loudly. “Mingyu had to implement a no fucking in his jeep policy, it definitely happened more than twice.”

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general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

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@kissesfrmwonwoo - @wonuskie - @yunjinified

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@hansoullie - @lovelyhyuka14

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #svt #svt smut #svthub #vampire svt #seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo svt #svt wonwoo #vampire wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #k-labels #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #*writing #*headcanons #i wrote this whole thing in under three hours it's like i'm on a roll or wtv #need to go lie down this destroyed me #sorry i made hyunjin’s so sad for no reason #he is too too fun to write angst for

[soldearestsoulmate]

💚 Solivan Brugmansia + Touches 💚

A couple SFW to suggestive headcanons about Sol and his show of affection through physical touches. Might write more when more ideas come to me finally. lol Reader is gender neutral.

Public physical shows of affection from Sol to you will usually be small and subtle. But he'll be straight and forward with his actions if the moment calls for it.

If anything, he really can't keep his hands off you. Whether it be a small caress of your cheek or moving a lose strain of your hair from your face. He'll one way or another, if he's close enough to you, will touch his darling soulmate.

He's not one for hand holding in public too often. But for you, he'll push past his comfort zone and hold your hand to keep you close. Will even squeeze his hold a little more as times passes, scared to let you go now. Your hand fits perfectly in his and feels warm, you were made for him, he just knows it. His mind is racing with ideas on other ways you two could hold hands more and longer now.

Along with hand holding, if he starts to get possessive, jealous or just protective of you. Expect him to wrap a arm around your waist or shoulder to keep you close. Did he just growl at someone? No, it must of been your imagination. Yet his hold on you just got tighter.

When in private however, he won't be shy to show his touches of affection to you. He'll cup your face in his hands and gaze lovingly into your eyes. Often telling you how much he loves you and showering you with loving words and compliments. Whether a kiss happens in that moment or not is up to you. But he really wants to kiss you right now. You're going to kiss him, right?

Cuddling together will happen almost always. In bed, on the couch, he'll always have you close to him. Running his fingers through your hair and often giving you small kisses on top of your head or on your face. Nuzzling his face into your neck and resting his head on our shoulder, taking in your scent as he softly sighs out happily. His heart is practically dancing in joy over the fact he has you all to himself now. You're all his, only his now. Now and forever.

If cuddling is happening in bed though, he'll try to control himself, but if you make the first move, he won't stop you or hold back. He wants you to be closer to him, practically fused if possible now. You want that too, right?

If you're doing any cooking for the two of you that day at your place while he's over. Expect him to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you from behind. Being unable to keep his hands off you as he gives kisses from your shoulder to your neck. Receiving a few giggles from you, as he lightly nibbles at you finally. He shouldn't be distracting you while you're cooking, he knows, but he can't restrain himself. You're too beautiful to not stay away from, and he just needs to show you often(always) how much he loves you.

Speaking of hugs, they will happen often. If you give him a hug first, expect him to hug you back just as tightly, or more. He knows he's quite strong, so will try to not ever harm you in his embrace. Once he has you in his grasp though, he might not ever want to let you go.

#solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back vn #tkatb vn #katb vn #tkatb sol #katb vn sol #tkatb mc #finally written something out. ; w;

[after-witch]

Check Out Time is Eleven [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Check Out Time is 11 [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: You're invited to a hotel for a warm meal and a place to sleep by a mysterious stranger. Soulmate AU.

Word count: 7100ish

notes: yandere, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, a really useless and non-philosophical reference to My Dinner with Andre

The red thread on his finger loses slack for the very first time in his life, and for the smallest of moments, Chrollo Lucilfer forgets himself. His steps falter, expensive, stolen shoes nearly scuffing on the sidewalk, and a startled breath quivers through his chest. His mouth gapes, ever so slightly. 

In surprise.

In trepidation. 

In realization.

The red thread was, had always been, attached to you. His soulmate. Whoever you were. The gentle tugging of the thread meant that after years of fruitless searching, you were finally somewhere nearby, close enough to reach. Probably, given the tautness of the thread, even within walking distance. 

How lucky for him. 

How unfortunate for you. 

You were finally discovered. You were finally within his grasp, fingers itching, warm satisfaction blooming through his skin. How often had he ruminated over the fact that you had yet to belong to him? How often had he wondered what you would look like, how you would feel under his touch? And what you might do to him when he had you in person? Would he find himself changed, however slightly, as the others in the Troupe had been? Or would he mold you with his own presence, looming over you like a shadow?

The mere thought of you is enough to get his heart racing, bring a bead of sweat to his neck. It was so unlike him, and wasn’t that a thrill? 

And then, just like that, the moment is over. He recollects himself and his mouth closes and his mind whirs back into focused gear. 

He needed to find you, first thing. The rest of the logistics could come later. 

His eyes track the movements of the thread, and without missing a beat, he turns on his heels to follow the direction of the movement. It was possible--no, highly probable--that you were close enough to reach on foot. Within the city, certainly, and he didn’t mind the exercise. 

As he continues to walk, the cold gleam of the business district turning into rows of glitzy restaurants and downtown attractions, he’s glad that you weren’t too close. It gives him more time to think about what he wants to do with you. 

The Troupe members that had already found their soulmates--and Chrollo feels a surge of pride in his chest, counting himself among them now, fulfilled in that goal--had taken on different approaches. 

Some merely kidnapped their soulmates and kept them in secure locations. Simple, effective in terms of security, but that would ensure it would take him a long time to win you over. And he knows that he will do just that, eventually, no matter how he decides to keep you. Others took their time, attempting to strike up something of an ordinary relationship before revealing their knowledge of the red thread, and persuading their soul mates to come with them for safety (and romance)’s sake. Surely the more appealing of the two options, but it did come with the downside of expended time and energy. 

What he would do with you depended on so many factors. Did you live in some stationary location, or were you prone to travel? What did you do for a living? Were you already in a relationship, some inferior partnership with someone who could never appreciate you the way that he could, as your only soulmate? 

All of these questions circle heavily in his mind as he walks, following the thread that was becoming tighter and tighter between the pair of you. The ritzy downtown buildings were now gone, replaced by rows of old buildings that had seen better days. In place of fine dining were small cafes and diners that practically exuded grease, laundromats with blinking signs, and the occasional busted out window. The scores of people walking, gabbing, waving around fancy handbags were replaced by only the occasional person walking with clear destinations in mind, eyes in front. 

As the thread becomes even tighter, it leads him down an alley that most people would have surely avoided. But he doesn’t worry about the glances of the people leaning up against heavy exit doors, or the people crouching on the ground with needles against their arms. He thinks about you. Will he find you here, perhaps, curled up in the arms of a drug dealer pumping you full of toxic chemicals that flushed you with endorphins and heat? Or you might be on the other side of the needle, pocketing cash and going on your merry way? 

But, no. Perhaps not. Instead of leading him further into the den of seedy dealings, the thread brings him away, feet crunching on broken bottles, towards some type of fenced-in parking lot. Or it had been a parking lot, once

From a short distance through the metal fence, he can see burning barrels, tents, carts. The smells of cooking grills waft over, greasy foods, easy to cook outdoors. It wasn’t a new sight, in this city or otherwise. Chrollo had seen worse. Had lived worse.

And then, there--at the end of the red thread that weaved in between one of the fence’s metal honeycombs: you.

He sees you for the first time and knows, with a burning intensity that threatens to knock him over, that he needs you. He needs you now. He needs you always. You have something that he lacks and perhaps possessing you will give it to him. 

Is this what the others felt, when they first saw their soulmates? Or is it something unique to you and him? Some unfathomable bond that has shaken him to his core? Not for long, of course, never for long. He regains his senses within moments and catalogs the feeling away for later analysis. 

It’s you that he focuses on, now.  And the fact he will have you, as soon as he decides on the where, when, and how. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Phantom Troupe if he wasn’t skilled at taking what he wanted. 

Today what he wants is not a gallery of paintings or a rare gruesome artifact, but a person. 

You.

What to make of you? 

You’re standing in front of one of the burning barrels, rubbing your hands together. They look red and chapped, even from his vintage point. Behind you is a shopping cart filled with odds and ends. On the side nearest the fire, you had clearly laid out clothes over the edge of the cart--wet ones, from rain or maybe you’d had the opportunity to wash them. Your current ensemble is a simple hodgepodge. Clearly, you wore whatever was cleanest, whatever was warmest, whatever you could find. 

He remembers such a living. 

You appear to be on the outskirts, avoiding the groups scattered around the encampment. No one approaches you and you don’t approach them. A loner… by choice, or not? You wouldn’t be alone for long, if it wasn’t by choice, and in time you might be grateful for it. If it was by choice, well, there were ways to tame feral cats. 

It doesn’t take much analysis to decide what to do with you, to decide how best to approach things. He’s glad that he wore something casual today. Just some simple slacks and a nice sweater. If he was overdressed, it might be more difficult. Not that he couldn’t manage it, but he enjoys advantages when he can get them. 

With no hesitation, he walks through one of the ragged gaps in the metal fence and begins to approach you. 

Your head jerks towards him the moment that his steps become even remotely close. He doesn’t mind. It’s only natural, especially for someone who has been living the way you surely have. There’s a tugging somewhere inside him--memory of himself and connection with you.

He smiles, not broadly, but in a way meant to disarm. 

“Hello,” he says, stopping a few feet away from you. 

You stiffen. 

“I’m Chrollo,” he continues. His voice is undisturbed and calm. As if he was meeting you on a sunny afternoon in the park while you were both buying ice cream from the same cart. That might have been a more charming meeting, he muses, but this one can work to his advantage just as easily. “Won’t you tell me your name?”

You snatch your hands back from the barrel and step, refusing to turn your back to him, behind your cart.

“None of your business,” you say. 

And oh, he thinks, it would be heaven if he could somehow bottle the first time he hears your voice and listen to it on demand. But he supposes, he has the rest of his life--and yours--to hear you speak.

“That’s all right.”  He gestures towards you, the cart, your life. “I see you are in need.” You frown at him, but he continues. “How would you like to go somewhere warm?”

Your lip pulls back in a sneer and you move yourself on the other side of the cart.

“I don’t do that. Fuck off.”

Ah. You thought he wanted you to--well. It wouldn’t be the first time people took advantage of others in less fortunate situations. There had been enough of that in Meteor City. 

“No, nothing like that,” he says, voice going soft. “I should have clarified. I’m a… missionary of sorts. I look for people in need and offer what help I can give. I’d like to buy you a hotel room for the week.” He notices your wary expression. “Or even the day, if that would be more comfortable for you. Somewhere you can get some safe sleep, a shower, something to eat. I wouldn’t even be there.” 

He recognizes the look on your face all too well. Wariness. Suspicion. The face of someone who knows that people are tricky and greedy and cruel. That people will take things that they haven’t earned. Oh, yes-- he knows all of that so well, from both sides.

And he also knows how to get your guard to drop enough for him to accomplish his goal. Sure, mistrust is essential in an environment like this. But mistrust can always be overpowered when there’s something essential within reach. Like comfort. Or food. A warm place to stay, even if it’s just for a few hours. A private bathroom, a toilet, a tub.

“I don’t know,” you say, finally, having given him the appropriate stare down.

He nods his head.

“I understand. I would feel wary myself, in your position. It’s perfectly reasonable.” It is more than reasonable, he thinks, but you don’t need to know that. You just need to believe that coming with him will be worth your while, worth ignoring what he’s sure is a growing pit in your stomach. 

“What I would like to do is accompany you to a hotel where I often book rooms for those in need. It’s a private room, of course. And I will pay for your meals.” He sees the gears turning in your mind at the promise of a bed. The promise of food. “I have my own room in the hotel, but it’s on a different floor, and I won’t have to see you at all,” he adds, and this is how he will make you step over that cautionary line. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everything is pre-paid on my card, of course, and you’re free to order whatever you’d like. What do you say?”

He lets his words hang in the air, wafting like smoke from the nearby barrels. 

You wet your lips. You glance around at the people around you. A few of them have taken notice of Chrollo, perhaps as a mark, perhaps more; but he pays them no mind. He could kill them in a fraction of a second and whisk you out of here just as easily, if he needs to… But he hopes it will not come to that. 

“All right,” you say suddenly, softly. “If… you’re just going to give me a room and feed me, then all right.”

Chrollo smiles. It is, he thinks, perhaps close to a genuine one.

“Wonderful. Follow me, if you please.”

--

The hotel is expensive, but thankfully not terribly ostentatious. Chrollo would hate to put you off by throwing you into some gilded lion’s den. But the hotel is more reserved, classy. Comfort and luxury without any of the ridiculous trappings that often come with them. 

Chrollo does bring you with him to the front desk, if only to reduce the chances that the security will kick you out for looking out of place. And you do look out of place, but perhaps that’s for the better. It will make you appreciate what he’s going to do for you more, won’t it? 

You’re quiet all the while, but that’s to be expected. You only hold tight to your backpack, where everything you hold dear has been crammed, and let him do the talking. A reservation is easily made under the guise that only you are to know the room number--you certainly don’t need to know that he’ll swing back and reserve the connected room next door--and the key is given without fanfare from the polite desk clerk who gives you curious glances but nothing more. 

Chrollo walks you to the elevator, ever the gentleman, and hands you the key. You stare at it. The uncertain expression on your face is unbelievably precious, he thinks. He hopes he can see more of it before it inevitably morphs into shock and anger and fear. 

“Would you like some new clothing?” Chrollo asks, after he pushes the button on the elevator for you. “I can have some sent up from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll tell the front desk, so they can give the concierge the room number. Ah, and I’ll need to know your size, if you’re willing to give it.” 

“You want to buy me clothes?”

You almost splutter out the words, and he has to restrain himself from kissing you right then and there. You are terribly cute, and there’s a slight disturbing tinge to how much he finds everything about you enticing so quickly. The way you furrow your eyebrows at his question. The slight look of embarrassment, the twitch of your lips. 

He needs you so much, and he’s only known you for a few moments.

You tell him your size, then glance at him before staring at the glossy metallic doors. “Um, I need something warm. No useless stuff.” Your head gestures back towards the hotel lobby, where a few women are walking on the arm of male companions, dressed in sleeveless dresses and likely heading for the restaurant. 

“Of course.” Chrollo does not tell you that he can envision you wearing all sorts of useless things in the future his mind is creating, brick by brick. You would look heavenly in something strapless, something slinky. Something that hangs off your shoulders. He would drape a fine wrap over them, were you behaving enough to go out with him--no one else but him will be privy to such delicacies. 

For now, though, he resolves to send you the clothes he knows you want. Things will be a little more seamless if your guard isn’t entirely raised. 

The elevator doors open.

Chrollo steps aside, and gestures for you to enter. 

“This is where I take my leave. I will let the restaurant host know your name, and you can order whatever you’d like. It’s on my card. Please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”

You take a step inside the elevator and ah, there it is. Just the slightest hesitation. The slightest jerk of your head as you look back at him. Do you feel bad, leaving him in a lurch when he’s giving you charity? Do you feel beholden to him in some way?

“I guess it’s okay if we share a meal. You’re paying for it, anyway. It’d be awkward otherwise.” You stare down at the elevator carpet as you say the words, and Chrollo realizes that he’s perhaps misjudged the gesture. Your sense of shame, maybe, outweighs your desire to be rid of him and his potential alternative motives for assisting you.

That might come in handy.

He nods, as you turn around and make brief eye contact with him. 

“Well, then. How about we meet here in 5 hours for dinner? I can send something dressy to your room, if you’d like.” 

You shrug your shoulders as the doors close, which is as good as assent in his view. The string on his finger rises with the elevator, but now there is no fear that he’ll lose you. The string, something which had been maddening in its slackness for so long, is now something of a treasure itself. A little leash, keeping you to him, wherever you go.

Which, for now, is your hotel room--meaning he needs to get moving. He won’t pick anything too flashy out from the boutique; something modest, something simple. There are delicate steps to take to avoid making you feel ashamed without offending your sense of dignity all in one go.

Thankfully--for you and himself--he’s attuned to such needs. 

5 hours. That would give you enough time to take a shower or bath, to change into the fresh clothing he’ll send up, to take a nap. Perhaps you’ll stare out the hotel window at the view or curl up in the bed, rolling on the fresh sheets. 

Five hours would give you time to freshen up and relax, yes. And it would give him enough time to get hold of Shalnark and procure anything he needs to make your removal from the hotel as smooth as possible.

--

The shower is running again. He doesn’t blame you. He remembers days where a hot shower was a luxury beyond imagining. 

He keeps his side pressed against the door connecting your rooms--not that you know he is on the other side with a key to yours, of course--and holds back a contended sigh as he watches the red string on his finger twirl and shift with your every movement. 

What are you thinking about? He wonders. Are you thinking about how long it’s been since you had a hot shower? Are you thinking about slipping the shampoo bottles into your backpack?

Perhaps more inviting… are you thinking about him?

He knows what’s on his mind, and has been for the last few hours now. You. 

What were you like, deep down, underneath your layers and justifiably guarded stance? Maybe you liked to read, maybe you once had a dream of being a dancer before life went to hell, maybe you were shy, maybe you liked to get drunk and sing your favorite songs at full volume. 

What would  you be like, once you were fully his? 

What do you look like, underneath all of your clothing? What has nature and nurture shown fit to bestow upon you, your skin, all those secret places you keep hidden? 

The thread bobbles again. Are you stepping out of the shower soon, or still scrubbing yourself? You’re so vulnerable, naked and unawares, just a few feet away from him. The water running is a delicious sound to his ears, because he knows that you’re underneath it. 

He imagines what you might look like naked. He imagines what sounds you might make, underneath him, gasping and--

Oh, but he’s getting ahead of himself. He smiles and shakes his head at the rush. He should slow down, yes. Slow down and savor it all.

He clenches both of his hands. In one is the duplicate key, in the other is a syringe. Both go into opposite pockets, awaiting their respective time to shine.

--

The dress that arrives at your door with a prim knock from a porter is not quite what you expected--which is a relief. You expected the stranger to send up something ridiculous. Something slinky and glittering, maybe with only a half shoulder. 

But instead it’s a simple dress with a flared skirt, all made from dark blue fabric. The sleeves are elbow length, the neckline isn’t too low, and there’s a matching black belt to go with it. He’s even sent up a pair of nylons, which are something you haven’t worn since you were a little kid, desperately trying to mimic your mother’s fancy outfits. 

He also--and maybe this is overkill--sent up a few pairs of shoes in different sizes, along with a transcribed note instructing you to call the front desk if none of them fit, or simply wear your own shoes if you are uncomfortable with it. 

This stranger--Chrollo--is awfully accommodating. And kind. And considerate. 

Which is exactly why, when the dress is on and your nylon-clad feet are resting in the shoes easiest to run in, you tuck your switchblade into one of the dress pockets for safekeeping. 

Maybe he is just kind. Or he’s one of those people that makes themselves feel better by occasionally being charitable; he’s harboring some sort of guilt that can be alleviated, however temporarily, by buying a person a sandwich or two. 

But maybe he’s not. You’ve known people who have been hurt or killed or sometimes worse by so-called charitable people. People that lure you in with showers and hotels, meals and clothing. People that slit your throat before or after they have their way with you.

Life was dark and life was shit, and you weren’t born yesterday. If this stranger had any nefarious intentions, you certainly weren’t going to walk into them like a bleating lamb. 

And yet, and yet… some part of you wanted to believe he had good intentions. You’re not sure why, exactly. You weren’t the type to look on the bright side or always see the good in people--or at least,  you hadn’t been that way since childhood. Yet something about this Chrollo made you hope that he was a good person. That you’d have a nice conversation and he wouldn’t do anything more than give you a nice afternoon and a place to sleep comfortably for a bit. 

It was an almost primal feeling, which made it all the more stranger. Your gut feelings usually told you something like: this place is dangerous, this guy’s probably got a gun, that alley’s too notorious to use as a shortcut. 

Your gut didn’t give you silly notions, like wanting to trust someone, hoping they would talk to you during dinner, wondering if they’d be pleasant to be around for longer. 

--

At least, not before today.

“And the lady will have the cailles aux raisins.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Quail,” Chrollo says, allowing the waiter to take the leather-bound menu from his hands. As if your issue was with the choice of food--okay, you didn’t know what it meant, but still--and not that he ordered for you. “Stuffed with shallots, grapes, liver, and ah, I believe, some cognac, if I’m not mistaken.”

“That’s correct, sir,” the waiter says, not giving you a second glance--you didn’t even get a menu, which irked you, but considering you had nothing to pay with and perhaps the hotel staff knew it, it was a practical snub.

Your lips twist into a frown, although you suppose you can’t complain. The dish does sound good.  Not that you’ve ever had quail. But it can’t be that different from chicken. Or duck. You had duck, once, as a kid. Your mother brought you to a hotel just like this for a Mother’s Day brunch and you sat at a table with an embroidered cloth and wore a pair of your mother’s white gloves, so that you would look extra fancy.

“I apologize,” Chrollo tells you. “I should have asked your preference first.” The strangest part is how sincere he sounds, like he really didn’t want to offend you. Like he actually might be interested in what you want to eat. Part of you can appreciate that, and part of you wants to finger the handle of your knife inside your pocket.

“It’s fine.” You shrug it all off. Because you can, and you choose to--but also because you’re famished and the smells wafting from the other tables is enough to make your stomach growl. “People usually don’t order things like this for me, anyway. If they do give me anything.”

Chrollo tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a particularly interesting painting on a wall. “No?” 

You smile thinly. “Nope. I’m lucky if I get someone’s leftover fries from a fast food shop.” 

“What a shame.” He places both hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. His gaze bores into yours. You look away, briefly, but find yourself wanting to look back. How odd. “I’m sure,” he begins, talking slowly, measuring out his words, “that must be demoralizing--to be treated as lesser-than.”

You can’t help the snort that comes out your nose, or the quick words that follow. “Yeah? And what would you know about that?” Your eyes rake over his outfit, your mind whirls over how much money he’s spent on you alone, as if it was nothing. A drop in the bucket. Some rich man playing with his money. Or daddy’s money, depending on the circumstance.

Of course, you expect him to get offended. You expect him to call you ungrateful and cancel the order and ship you out of here like yesterday’s trash. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has gotten angry that you didn’t play into their savior fantasies. Your muscles even prep to stand, your face goes stony, ready to block the anger that he’ll throw your way.

Only... none of that happens.

His face looks--it’s hard to describe, really. It’s almost like it glitches for a moment, and you see something you weren’t meant to see. You’re not even sure if he realizes it. And then his expression gets so remote and so quiet. He looks away from you for perhaps the first time, looking instead, at his hands.

“I know a lot about that, actually.”

It’s not offense in his expression but… sympathy? No, that’s not it either. You know “sympathy face” like the back of your hand, for all the good it does you. 

It’s empathy. Trace, but there. A shared experience between you. Maybe that’s why you’ve felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt all day. Why you went with him in the first place, hunger pangs aside. 

“So you’ve been…” You begin, but is there a need to finish. He’s been homeless, or something like it. Downtrodden. On the bottom. 

He nods.

“Sorry.” The word comes out blurted but soft. Well, I’m an asshole, you think. 

He smiles at you, a soft, thin thing--almost like a gloss that covers up his previous expression. “No, don’t be. You had no way of knowing, dear.” 

Dear.

The word hangs between you silently, as if it’s being dangled on some sort of invisible string. He opens his mouth slightly--maybe to apologize--but shuts it when you don’t say anything. Instead, he simply blinks, and watches you.

Perhaps a minute ago you might have bristled at the nickname, might have sought to cut it right down, in fact. But for now, you brush it aside. He’s being nice--he knows what you’re going through. And sure, there’s some sort of guilt relief in his actions, but it’s not coming from the place of a rich man making himself feel better. It’s coming, you think, from a place of not just knowing where you’ve been but having been there himself. 

Before either of you can speak, the waiter returns with your appetizer and despite the guilt in your gut, your hunger practically sings at the sight of the plate of bread and butter. It’s fancy bread, already cut, gleaming with what smells like garlic butter spread over the top. 

The flavored butter is shaped like a rose and it’s only after you childishly dip your bread right into it and take a loud, chewy bite of the delicious goodness that you realize you’ve committed a faux-pas. There’s a tiny butter knife on the plate, obviously meant to delicately smear the butter onto your bread. And here you are, gnawing on the piece like some sort of medieval peasant during a bad harvest. 

A pang of shame tingles over you. It’s a silly kind of shame--inconsequential, really. Who cares how you eat bread at some hotel you’ll never step foot in again in your life? But it lingers terribly. Until Chrollo picks up a piece of brand and dips it right into the butter, too, taking a chewy bite with far less graciousness than you imagined with his sophisticated appearance.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

You smile. You almost-snort. And the shame dissipates like ice crystals on a sunny day, as you and Chrollo both finish off the appetizer. He lets you eat more without saying a word, which you appreciate.

There’s a lot to appreciate about him, really. He’s been kind. He hasn’t been terribly condescending, dinner order notwithstanding. And he seems to know how to approach you with actual empathy and not just the sticky, coddling sympathy that most people do.

And you won’t lie--he is nice to look at. He even smells nice, but with the amount of money he had to spend on the clothing he sent up to your room, he can likely afford to buy expensive cologne.

If he notices you staring, he says nothing. Instead, he half-closes his eyes and appears to be deep in thought. Over… you? Or dinner? 

He hums a bit under his breath, and you realize: it’s the music. It’s a delicate song being played by a small group of musicians set up on a stage in the corner. It’s familiar… your brain strives to catch up with your ears. 

“You like this song?” You ask, because the silence has stretched too long, and the bread is now gone.

Chrollo opens his eyes and regards you with a sober smile. “Yes.” He pauses, then. “It’s--”

“Elgar's Chanson de matin,” you blurt, before he can. “I know it.”

His eyes widen, just a tad. Enough to show that he’s curious. A funny bit of pride thrums through you. It can be retribution for the quail earlier, you decide.

“You’re familiar with his work?”

You feel your cheeks heat up, even though you don’t get the sense that he asked to be cruel. He seems actually interested. Like he wants to know you. It’s nice, and confusing, and a little startling. 

You nod, wishing there was more bread to break up the conversation. “What, you think someone like me can’t be interested in classical music?

“Of course not.” He answers swiftly, resolutely.

 He reaches his hand towards yours and grasps it before you can think to pull away. It seems silly to yank your hand out of his, so you don’t. Even if the way he looks down at your interlocked fingers makes goosebumps dance up your arm. 

His expression is so strange. He looks… lonely. And desperate. And relieved. But why? 

Both of your gazes meet for one electric moment and for that moment, you feel like he sees you. And you see him. Not as clearly. But you see something inside him that is not quite on the surface. Something which does make you pull away, but not with distaste. You withdraw your hand from his slowly, like he’s a wild animal that you don’t want to startle.

The waiter, impeccable timing as ever, arrives with the main courses just as your hand makes its way into your lap. 

And just like that, the spell is broken. Ripples of water dash whatever it was between you, and he’s speaking charmingly to the waiter, who appears swiftly again with a glass of champagne for each of you. You weren’t intending to drink, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It could calm your nerves.

Neither of you talk much for the rest of dinner. It’s not tense, exactly, but you can tell there’s something in the air. Questions unspoken, maybe, or just an awkwardness between two strangers who seem to both understand and misunderstand each other in equal measure.

The hotel’s restaurant begins to thin out after your main courses are taken away. A dessert menu is brought, and Chrollo orders a simple slice of cake for both of you. 

Real vanilla bean frosting is on your lips when you ask your question. Quiet, but with most of the other guests gone, he has no trouble hearing it.

“So you were… homeless, before?”

You’re not sure why you need to know this. To confirm that he’s not some rich boy playing with his father’s money? To see how much he can really understand you? Maybe the champagne went to your head. You don’t normally drink, it wouldn’t be impossible.

His fork stalls as the question comes out. He glances up at you and there’s nothing offended or hurt in his eyes. He seems to weigh his answer before he gives it. It doesn’t really surprise you; he could be just as mistrustful of you as you are of him, couldn’t he?

“Something like that.” He rests his fork on his plate. “I suppose you are trying to decide just how much I can sympathize with your… situation.”

Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re grateful the water brought another glass of champagne that you can sip from to loosen the tightness in your chest.

If he notices your flushed countenance, he doesn’t remark on it. You like him better for it. He continues speaking, looking at you with a measured expression. Like before, his words come slowly and carefully, given to you with something akin to grace.

“Our situations were not exactly similar. I don’t find it terribly useful to compare them. Better in some ways, worse in others. Like anything.”

“Better?” You dab at your mouth with a napkin. 

“Ah.” He seems to weigh his next words with even more scrutiny before he decides on them. “I had something you didn’t, which surely benefited me.”

“Which was?”

There’s something wistful in his voice now. It makes you lean forward over the table. With most of the other guests gone, it feels strange to talk so openly about clearly delicate matters. Chrollo mimics your lean, and while he doesn’t take your hands across the table into his, you get the feeling he’d like to, if you let him.

“Companionship,” he says simply. The word settles in the air like a brick that seems to land right on your chest. You blink and feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes. You really did have too much champagne, and this is all getting to be a lot. You start to lean backward when he speaks again.

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“No,” you lie. The shock of the question does make you lean back fully. Then, to be spiteful. “Are you?”

He doesn’t answer. He only looks down at his hands and the empty spot where yours used to be, and then back at you. 

Nothing more is said on the matter. He pays for the meal and leaves a nice fat tip for the waiter--who has, you think, been lurking nearby either to witness your drama or to make sure no one swipes his tip from the table--before escorting you back to the elevators.

Shame slams back into you while you’re standing in front of the elevator doors.

“I’m sorry.” Sure, he asked it first, but fuck--you hate being rude. If you were rude. It was hard to tell how Chrollo felt about anything. The champagne making your head fuzzy doesn’t help. Not at all.  

He tilts his head a little. “What for?”

Your eyebrows furrow together. “You know, for asking… for being…” You wave your hands around a little. It’s too hard to put into words. You’re tired, you feel out of sorts, and you’re tipsy bordering on drunk. You can give yourself some forgiveness in a lack of coherency in this matter, at least.

Chrollo regards you for a moment before he shakes his head, scoffing a little as he smiles.

“For being yourself? Or at least showing some small part of it to me? I don’t mind.” He holds out his arm and you, unsteady champagne fuzz in your head, take it. “I’ll escort you to your room, if that’s all right. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go there alone.”

You should tell him that you’ll be fine. You should. But the champagne in your brain and the way you feel drawn to him--however slightly--makes “should” fly out the window. So you nod and let him lead you into the elevator, where the ride up makes you dizzy enough that Chrollo has to steady you carefully, and you mumble out another apology. 

He only chuckles a little and helps you walk out of the elevator without stumbling over the threshold. Your room is just down the hall and he keeps a steady grip on you the whole way, even though you’ve told yourself that you won’t stumble anymore. It feels weird, to have someone so close to you; to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin.

It feels weird, yes, but giddy too. He is handsome. And he did buy you dinner. And clothes. And he’s not as shitty as you thought he might be at first. The way he ate the bread in solidarity with you earlier--you can’t forget that, can you? It was… cute, even. If someone like Chrollo could be called cute.

Is it the champagne, the newness of this stranger-but-not-entirely, the rich disarmament that comes with a full stomach and freshly washed face? All of the above? Whatever it is, it’s got you thinking too much about Chrollo as he gently takes the key from your hand and opens your hotel room door.

A gentleman, he only sees you just inside before taking his leave, promising to meet you for breakfast in the morning--if you’d like.

You would like, you tell him, and the door shuts and locks swiftly afterwards. Chrollo’s cologne lingers in the air, or maybe it rubbed off on you from all the steadying he had to do. 

The hotel room is just as you left it. Clean and pristine, smelling vaguely of lemon. Your duffel bags and personal belongings are shoved in the corner. Maybe you’ll try to read one of your books tonight, before you sleep? It would be the first time you read on an actual bed in ages. Maybe you could even call for room service? A little midnight snack? It’s not like Chrollo would mind, or at least, he probably wouldn’t. It’d be something small anyway, nothing wild. 

Unless you wanted a bubbly nightcap. 

Full of ideas, you take your giddy champagne self back to the bathroom to change into pajamas that he sent up earlier, humming Elgar’s Chanson, thinking about bread and quail and… Chrollo. The knife in your dress pocket gets left on the bathroom counter. It was silly to bring it, now that you think about it. 

Still humming, you flop on the bed and grab the menu for room service. It wouldn’t hurt to order some extra dessert. And another glass of champagne. Maybe two… 

You’re so out of sorts that at no point for the rest of the night, before your weary head hits the soft pillow, do you stop to wonder how Chrollo knew your room number.

--

There are few things Chrollo truly regrets in his life. One of them, he knows, will be that he couldn’t plant himself in this town for a few months in order to properly court you; to introduce you, gradually, to the concept of nen. To the knowledge that you were his soul mate.

But it can’t be helped. He has to leave tomorrow night, come hell or high water. And he certainly won’t let you drown here a moment longer. It’s for your sake. You’ll come to realize that eventually, just as you will--in time--come to forgive him for what he must do.

You’ll no doubt regret letting down your barriers in the morning. But if you hadn’t been so keen to trust in someone, to trust in him, then he wouldn’t have gotten to see something of the real you underneath all of that built-up survival instinct. And didn’t you see something of him, too? He thinks you did. Just a moment, a spark, but it was there. 

You sweet thing. He could hear you humming through the door earlier; heard you order room service (champagne and desserts) and he regretted not having Shalnark swoop in during dinner to set up some security cameras. 

The key to your room feels heavy in his hand. On this side, he is simply himself, staring ahead as the red thread of his soulmate leads away from him. But once he turns it into the lock and quietly opens the door, there will be nothing between you but sleep.

He opens the door and relishes in the way the thread sags even further downward. If only you could have seen how beautiful the thread looked during dinner, all tangled up as he clasped your hand in his. That’s how the thread was meant to look. Not tight and taut and unforgiving.

You’re fast asleep when he silently enters the room and unlocks the deadbolt so that Shalnark can help him remove you from the premises. Curled up underneath the covers, you look like you’re in bliss. It’s likely the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time. Months? Years? 

How awful for you, to wake up tomorrow and realize that you’re no longer in the hotel bed. And that he’s the one to blame for it. How awful for him, too, to lose his grasp on the tentatively pleasant and revealing evening you had together. But he doesn’t think you’ll be empathetic on that matter. Not for a while, anyway.

He sits down on the bed next to you and it takes a considerable amount of self-control not to curl up against you. It’s not worth the risk of you waking, although the tranquilizer in his pocket could be jabbed into your thigh early, if need be. 

Besides… you’ll have a lifetime of nights together after this. 

There’s no need to rush what is finally his to keep forever. 

#yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere chrollo lucilfer #afterwitch writes

[k1ngpin42]

You two aren’t dating but she thinks you’re hers.

Note: The fics pretty long so I'll have the smut in bold as per usual. I also take requests. Enjoyy

Warnings: Fingering & fisting, dominant Abby, cunnilingus, thigh riding, rough, restraints, scissoring, possessive Abby, hickeys 

You’ve been best friends with Abby as long as you can remember. Her dad loves you, you go on all assignments together and she trusts you more than anyone. 

As you’ve grown older, in turn you have also gotten considerably prettier, stronger, and others have definitely noticed. Men and women alike have been flirting with you during and after assignments. Most attempts at courting you were unsuccessful though. Ever heard the term ‘if a look could kill?’ Well if anyone sent so much as a smile in your direction, she would return their affections with a look so intense they might as well be dead.

It had been a few days since you had been assigned somewhere with Abby. You knew she loved doing the more strenuous stuff with Manny, so you had been partnered with a nice man named Ryan for most of your recent missions. He had been helping you adjust to long shipment assignments and high risk activities such as defending areas rich in supplies, but a lot of the time Ryans patrol were assigned to what WLFS call “ghost missions,” (scanning large perimeters of land for trespassers, even when 9 days out of 10, the only people trespassing were infected stragglers.)

The two of you were closer than the other’s in his patrol group, likely because most patrols were so fucking boring and you two needed a way to pass the time. It was becoming clear he had certain affection growing towards you, and after being so…distracted by Abby all these years, you decided the attention was nice.

You made your way to the dining hall for breakfast. You never ate anything that early in the morning as a result of your night-person-only demeanour, however you enjoyed sitting at the table with a hot cup of coffee and listening to the white noise of people eating and chatting before going out into the cruelty of Seattle. The dining hall felt like a sort of safe haven for you in the mornings, a time when there weren’t so many people as to make you feel overwhelmed but just enough to convince you that you weren’t entirely alone. 

You were surprised to see Abby and Manny getting trays of food and chatting in the line. Your face involuntary flushed when they approached. It wasn’t noticeable, but you felt the heat under your skin. 

“Manny!” You exclaim, happily. You two had always been platonic soulmates. His irritating puns and smooth way of talking was refreshing in a place with so many serious people. You supposed that’s why you liked Abby too. Aside, of course, from her arms that could, and you would happily let, crush you with ease. 

“Hey Abs.” You say, more quietly and with less excitement. She smiles widely at you.

“It’s good to see you again, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!” She remarks, sitting across from you. Manny sits next to her.

“So what’s new?” Manny asks, and before you can answer Abby looks at your empty tray with mild concern.

“You’re not eating?” She asks. You’re taken by surprise a little and take a beat before answering.

“Just coffee.” You reply, still feeling more nervous than you should. 

“You should eat before assignments.” She instructs. 

“I’ll be fine.”

You notice a reaction of either disgust, irritation, or both appear on Abby’s face and you turn around to see what it could be. You smile when you notice Ryan approaching.

“Ryan! Good morning!” You say. Abby rolls her eyes.

“A lot of excitement for 9 in the morning.” She mumbles to Manny.

“Hey!” He speaks with excitement, pulling out the bench slightly and sitting beside you. Abby practically groans.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was someone sitting there?” He asks politely. Abby grunts.

“Well…no, but-“

“No one’s sitting there.” You reassure him, looking deeply into his eyes as he gets comfortable in his chair.

“I got you some of those packaged cornflakes you love to snack on. I knew you wouldn’t be hungry enough for breakfast but the sugar should you give you enough energy for the day.” He explains, passing you a packet. 

“What a gentlemen.” Manny claims with amusement. Abby’s face now depicted an expression that the word “annoyed” wouldn’t even justify. 

“She doesn’t eat breakfast.” Abby speaks, almost like a warning. You just smile softly at her, then back at him.

“No, no it’s very sweet, I’ll have some.” You say, peeling off the packaging and taking a small handful of some. 

“You’ll need the energy, we’ve got another one of those long cargo shipments ahead of us. It’ll finally just be us today.” He says, pushing a spoonful of some sort of porridge into his mouth from the bowl in front of him. 

“Isaac’s trusting us to be alone together?” You ask with delight. He nods his head and Abby gives another appalled look.

“Why wouldn’t you be? Can you two not focus together or what?”

You look at her, confused at where this attitude is coming from. 

“Aha…no, it’s just we usually go in a four person patrol, I guess he trusts us more now.”

“Or he just doesn’t want to waste too many men for such long periods of time-“ Ryan tries to say before getting interrupted.

“Actually-“ Abby begins abruptly in a way that seemed to startle even herself. Everyone turns to look at her and she doesn’t let this intimidate her, too deep in it now to stop talking.

“I came to tell you that you’re with me today. Manny’s swapping with Ryan.”

“I’m sorry, what??” Manny starts. Abby gives Manny a pleading look. He sighs.

“It’s true.” He agrees through gritted teeth.

“Oh…” Ryan murmured. You put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s no problem, Manny’s a great ally to have for shit like this.” You offer, now rubbing his arm gently. He nods.

“I was hoping to spend more time with you.”

“Well we don’t need patrol for that.” You say, somewhat flirtatiously. His whole attitude seems to shift and if auras were visible, his would be golden right now.

“Then, do you want to hang out when you’re back?” Once again, your chance to respond is taken from you.

“That’ll be impossible, it will probably be night time by the time we’re back.” Abby explains. His smirk widens, still making eye contact with you.

“Even better.” 

This is Abby’s final straw and she gets up and grabs your wrist which appears to vanish completely under Abby’s large fist.

“She’ll think about it.” She says, guiding you away. You look at her, not annoyed, just confused.

“Abigail…” You start, softly. She doesn’t say anything, she seems too angry with life to process words right now.

“I mean no offence by this question, but Abs, are you okay?” She doesn’t respond for a while, still guiding you to the wagons. She sighs before answering.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asks, as if the question were aimed towards herself, rather than you.

You shrug. “Must have been my imagination.” She doesn’t say anything and just lifts you up onto the wagon. There are two other men there and Abby tells them you’re ready, the wagon leaving swiftly at her command. 

“So what was with the swap?” You ask. She seem’s happier now, or at least less tense. She lets out a deep breath. 

“I missed you.” She replies, nonchalantly. You feel your heart do things that can’t be healthy inside your chest at these words. You nod, trying to keep your composure. 

“Cool.” You say, finally allowing yourself the courage to look her into her eyes again. 

When you reach a block in the road, you both get out decide to look for alternate ways across. There’s some debris blocking the road that appears almost impossible to clear from this side. You also notice that there are some buildings you could potentially cut through. You walk up to one and a runner runs out at you. You desperately pull it away from your neck, stabbing it with your pocket knife. 

Abby runs in at the commotion and see’s the dead runner on the floor. 

“Are you bit?” She breathes out, her face consumed with panic. You laugh.

“No.” You say, giving her a comforting smile. “Of course not.” 

“Let’s keep mo-“ you start. Abby pulls you in without the faintest of warnings, hugging you tightly.

While blushing ferociously at the feel of her large body against yours, the refinement of the muscles on her arms, the feeling of her chest against yours, you manage a strained.

“I’m alright.”

She doesn’t let you go at this. Instead, she snakes her arms around your body, moving her arms down to your hips. You feel the lower part of your body quiver and you quickly press your legs together, some part of you believing she could know the things you thought about her somehow. 

“What are-“ She moves her hands to your ass, then hips, then she runs them back up again. 

“I missed you.” She breathed out. You break away from the hug and look at her directly in the eyes.

You search desperately for any indication of deception. This has to be some kind of prank. If Abby liked you back you would know, wouldn’t you? 

The thought occurs to you that she didn’t know you liked her, so why couldn’t the same thing apply?

No. There was no way. Abby was straight, probably…

“Abby?” You question. She eyes you slowly. 

“Mm…” She hums, clearly in her own world. 

“Why…” You pause, and it feels like that girl has taken every breath from your body body before you can take it.

“Why did…you want me to come with you today?” You feel the heat of the air from both your mouths. You’re so fucking close to each other, it would take almost nothing to- no. Focus, you keep telling yourself. 

“You’re a good shot, good company too, I missed it.” She declares, matter-of-factly. You nod and she puts a large hand on your face.

“Or maybe I didn’t want you doing assignments with that boy toy.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way her hand is making you feel.

“And how is Ryan a boy toy?” You ask, stammering a little.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She demands, and her tone startles you. Her eyes soften when she notices your reaction.

“He clearly wants to sleep with you, I’m just looking out for you cause I mean, men like that they only want one thing, you know?” She asks softly. You give her a provocative look.

“What if I only want one thing from him too?” You watch as Abby’s eyebrows furrow and that same look of disgust splashes over her.

“You CAN’T be serious.” She spits, removing her hand and stepping away from you.

“What’s wrong with that? It’s not like anyone else wants me-“

“I-“ Abby practically yells, her words trailing off.

“He’s not good for you. He wouldn’t know…how to treat you.” You sigh.

“Well, I need to sleep with someone.” You admit “Why does it bother you?”

“Because, you belong to me.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground. You’re stunned at her words.

“What? I…don’t belong to anyone-“

—————————————————————————————

✨Smut✨

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, the question sounding more like an order. 

You don’t allow yourself to consider anything else before grabbing her face and mashing you lips against hers. 

Still stunned by the situation, you feel her lips part obediently against yours and you gain the chance to suck on her tongue, tasting the inside of her mouth as the kisses became deeper, more intense. 

Your head is racing, but you ignore the scrambled thoughts, letting yourself moan slightly into the kiss, feeling her hands tracing your shirt.

“Please.” She says quietly. You don’t know what’s happening, she’s never treated you like this, never wanted you. You’ve heard her say please maybe once- actually, you’re not sure you’ve heard her say that at all, but now here she was, practically begging to see more of you. 

It’s Abby fucking Anderson after all, so despite logic dictating that the reasonable decision would be to talk things out and see if her feelings are genuine, you comply without even taking a breath, practically tearing your shirt off for her. 

She practically stares at your chest, mesmerised by the way they sit perfectly in your well fitted bra, deep blue and black lace. Once she manages to close her jaw, she gapes, “you wear this on all your patrols?” You shake your head.

“All my others were in the wash…” you stammer. She says nothing, grabbing you forcefully and putting her lips on your neck. 

You moan involuntarily, knowing your neck is your sweet spot and now, she knows it too. Instead of just kissing it now, she sucks harshly at your skin like you’re a goddamn lollipop, running her tongue over different areas as she went.

“Take yours off too.” You say, feeling heat grow between your legs at even her simplest of  actions. Her smirk makes you go feral. 

“Already desperate for me, hm?” She asks. The back of your neck is hot and you feel your stomach doing summersaults.

Deciding actions speak louder than words, you lift her shirt off her shoulders and you could melt right fucking there. In all her glory, a perfect chest covered by a pale coloured bra. A stunning set of Abs with a light shine of sweat from the travel and heat and you can see her arms fully now, and they were just as you had imagined, if not better.

“Fuck, Abs, you’re so-“ You whimper when she bites down unexpectedly at your neck before moving her mouth away. Then, she kisses your stomach, all the while moving her fingers down into your underwear.

“Take this shit off.” She instructs, motioning at your jeans by pulling aggressively at the fabric. You sigh at how obedient you’ve become, kicking your shoes off, then lowering your pants to the floor. 

“Good girl.” Abby grinned, putting her whole hand in your underwear with no warning.

“Mm…” A high pitched moan escapes your lips in anticipation, it’s quiet, but in the small room Abby could hear the sweet chorus of your moans in her ear, making her speed up her pace. 

She found your clit immediately, using two of her wide fingers to draw painfully slow circles across where you were most sensitive. 

“A…Abby” You shut your eyes tight as she feels you, fucking with all of your senses for sport. 

‘Look at me when I’m fucking you.” She demands, using her left hand to cover your throat. She doesn’t squeeze though, she doesn’t want to hurt you, at least not yet. 

“Stop….teasing me.” You plead as she continues having her way with your cunt, fingers already drenched as a result of her torture. She smirks.

“You shouldn’t have let that slut sit with us.” She says, stopping what she’s doing and putting them inside you this time, moving her thumb quickly over your clit in their absence. She start’s fucking your inner walls as rough as she wants to, not giving a fuck how overwhelming it feels. You lean your head back, gripping at her biceps and clawing them slightly with your nails. She gasps at the feeling of this, and you can tell she’s getting off on it. 

“That’s what this ’s about? Mmm….” You moan, still looking into her eyes as best you can. “You’re jealous?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” She says, removing her fingers from your neck and putting them in your mouth instead.

“Put that pretty mouth to use and be grateful for the pleasure I give you.” You suck gratefully at her fingers and instead of the slow pace she was doing before, she goes so fast you feel your stomach start to swirl immediately. “MMM” You moan through her fingers. She doesn’t stop, not even when you claw at her arms so hard they make imprints in her skin. You can’t fight the need to close your eyes this time, and suddenly, right before orgasm, you feel nothing. Her long, wide fingers go out of you and your pussy pulses, as if to complain in morse code. She removes her hands from your mouth.

“Why?” You gasp. She kisses you deeply again, throwing you against a wall and protecting your head with her hand.

“I told you, look at me when I’m fucking you, or I stop.” She warns, putting her hand into your underwear again.

You cry out as she does so, you were already so sensitive. She smiles innocently at you.

“Aw, too much baby?” She asks, still refusing to switch up her speed, moving fast and hard in and out of your cunt. The slick from inside you leaks off her fingers, painting the inside of your thighs. She keeps going. And going. Until you are clutching onto her and throbbing as you release on her hand. 

 You let out a satisfied sigh, but Abby is far from reaching that point herself and looks around the room, spotting an empty couch. 

She picks you up effortlessly, your legs clinging onto her. She throws you onto the couch, moving on top of you and ensuring you have no where to go. Once in a good position, she’s moving her knee dangerously close to your cunt. 

“It’s too soon…” you breathe out, moving your legs together to protect your dripping pussy. She ignores you, circling your clit and entire pussy with her concealed knee. The tough material of her green cargo jeans manipulating yet another painful orgasm from her is a feeling second to none, and she already has you moaning her name.

“A…Abby…” you cry. She moves faster.

You let out a shaky gasp. “…bby” she moves wider.

“A-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before bucking your hips into her knee and another orgasm floods your body. 

“You’re so wet for me baby.” She hums, taking off her belt and pants. 

“Put your arms up.” She commands,her expression neutral and portraying that same look she always gets when she has something she needs to get done. You just look at her, admiring her body. Her eyes darken at your behaviour and she grabs your arms, tying her belt over them with one hand, tightening your hands together.

“Don’t want to listen to me, huh? I’ll show you what happens when you don’t behave. While gaping over the fact you can no longer move your hands, Abby pushes her head in between your cunt and you practically scream as she tastes you, flattening her tongue on your clit and moving her head around and around to explore every bit off your pussy like it’s the most important thing she’ll ever do.

She moans out as she does it and your pussy throbs in her mouth at this. You can tell this has swiftly became Abby’s new favourite activity, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this becase a regular hang out routine.

Your confined hands make it harder for you, as you can’t grab on to Abby’s hair or even the leather couch. She continues moaning and sucking sloppily, her hands on either thigh.

“I’m, I’m gonna-“ You start, and Abby takes this as an indication to give you everything she has, putting three fingers into your tight hole all while not coming up for air.

Abby slows down the movements with her tongue, still giving you enough to feel fucking heavenly, but not enough to make you cum just yet.

With every bit of care, Abby slowly puts a fourth finger in and tears dwell in your eyes.

“F….fuck….mmmhm” You cry. She moves her head away so she’ll be audible.

“Think you can take my whole hand baby?” Feral was an understatement of understatements. This question made you feel so fucking insane you probably wouldn’t even remember your own name if you were asked it right now. You look at her hand, her wide fingers, her massive fist you had seen use to bash people’s skulls into the floor, her whole fist would probably cause some sort of damage to you, surely…

“Yea..” you whisper. She smiles widely.

“That’s my good girl.” She says before returning to her previous position, licking your glistening slit as she eased her hand inside you. 

“Mmm fu- mmmm Ab- oh m- fuck” The feeling of her tongue was electrifying. To think Abby could have liked you before, to think you guys could have been doing this ages ago, fuck there was nothing like it in the world. You always dreamed of this, always wondered what it would be like if she used those hands for more than just violence or working out, and now you got your answer. Now you truely knew how fucking good she was. 

That sensation she had made you experienced several times in the last hour or less was returning and as she continued doing tricks with her tongue and hand, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.

“Abigail….” You moan. She moves her fist in and out slightly faster.

“I’m gonna fucking….Abby~~” You gasp, releasing hard as your body cried out for a break. It takes a while to take back your breath as Abby eases out of you, admiring her now coated hand.

“Was that good, baby?” You don’t reply, blushing ferociously at the site of her hand and fingers.

“Come on,” she says, untying your hands. “You’ve got one more in you my gorgeous girl.” She chants, and now that you can actually see again, you have the opportunity to see her entire body. She’s wearing boxers that look so fucking good on her you want to tear them off with your teeth. 

She notices your staring and smiles. 

“Like what you see baby?” You nod excitedly.

“God, yes.” You exclaim. She has that cocky fucking smirk on her face again. She knows she good. 

“You’re hands are free now, you can touch.” She explains, her voice low. Before you even have a chance to touch her, though, she grabs your arm and does it for you, placing your hand there and allowing you to feel the shape of her cunt through the smooth material. 

And fuck. She’s wet. You don’t why you thought she wouldn’t be. Maybe you had assumed she was above that, or maybe you were still in denial she had any kind of feelings for you at all, even if she only wanted sex or whatever the fuck it is Abby wants. 

You start feeling her up through the fabric and she tilts her head.

“You first.” You let out an annoyed breath and she laughs at how adorable she finds you.

“You’ve already made me…well…a lot.” You say, your face a deep red. 

“Why can’t I let you feel good?” You ask. She picks you up and places you on her thigh, leaning herself back against the sofa. 

“Pleasuring you does make me feel good baby. So I’m gonna do anything and everything I want to you unless I hear any objections.” Still blushing, you nod.

“You won’t get any from me.” You declare quietly.

“I’m gonna teach you better than to question me.” She insists, grabbing your hips and moving your clit over her bare thigh. You can’t help but smile as pleasure surrounds you again.

“Fuck Abs…” She keeps guiding your hips, breathing heavy herself at the sight of you.

“Look at you, my pretty girl fucking herself on my leg. I wonder, does it turn you on?” Your still throbbing cunt feels amazing against her quads and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her neck and pull yourself in closer.

“Yes.” You admit in her ear. She kisses you hungrily while increasing the pace.

“Yes, what?”

“A…abby.” You say, and her eyes roll back, her head hitting the wall at how turned on she is. You could cum at the sight of it.

“Will you please let me make you cum?” You ask, just wanting her to feel even a fraction of what she’s made you feel. She takes one hand off your hip and puts it on your neck, her hand fitting almost completely around it. 

“Look at you.” She whispers, enticingly.  “SO fucking desperate. The way I love.” Abby coos. You roll your eyes.

“Will you at least take your bra off?” She shoves you down onto the couch, pinning your hands down with her over you.

“Do you want to see what happens when you keep making demands before I’m done with you?” She asks. 

Still gasping for air from the shock of the situation, you don’t answer, instead you just shake you head. You want her too fucking bad, you can’t wait to be fucked any longer, even if painful and slowly drawn out orgasms with her hands and mouth were arguably as good right about now.

“Don’t make me tie your hands again.” She warns, retuning you to the position before and watching you get off on her thigh. You remain like this for some time, just slowly feeling yourself on her bare thighs.

“Tell me how good it feels baby.” 

“S’ good Abs.” You say, and she increases the pace. 

“Tell me what you think of Ryan.”

“What? N-now?” You breathe out, already closer to the edge than you should be right now. Before she can make another one of her remarks, you stop her.

“Alright, alright, I- I don’t know, he’s okay-“

“Do you think he’s hot?” She asks, sucking on your neck as she guides your hips. You moan loudly when she does this, fuck you love when she kisses your neck. You would let your entire neck be riddled with hickeys for her, you wouldn’t even care who saw. 

“I asked you a question.” “No. No I don’t think he’s hot.”

“So you were gonna use him for sex, then? No attraction?” Abby asks. Fuck you’re so close. 

“I….yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Abby, I…was gonna use him for sex.” 

“Why?”

“Abby I’m gonna c-“

“WHY?” She yells. Fuck you’re cumming. 

“C-cause I n- ugh~”  She hugs you tightly, still not removing you from her thigh. You breathe out desperately. 

“I needed a distraction from you.” You blurt out, teary eyed from all the sex. She actually looks surprised at this.

“Wait, what? From me?”

“I’ve liked you for….mmm…a while.” You say. She kisses you deeply for a long time, several minutes of just entangling your mouths in each others throats, if that were even possible.

“I…wanted you so bad that I- I thought he would distract me, make it hurt less that you didn’t want m-“ “You shut the fuck up. I’ve never not wanted you. You’re fucking mine.”

“What? But you never said anything.” You exclaim. She shakes her head dismissively. 

“Yeah well I’m a fucking idiot. Let’s see if there’s a bed in this place, I wanna fuck you properly.”

You look down at the infected on the floor not too far from you.

“Ah yes, the bed belonging to that dead guy over there, romantic.” She can’t help but laugh at this and you both walk through the building, (you practically limping you’re that sensitive). There’s a bedroom. The bed doesn’t look exactly comfortable, but it’s better than a couch or floor.

In saying that though, you would let Abby take you anywhere on any surface at any time if you were truly being honest with yourself. 

She places you carefully on the bed. 

“It’s not that bad?” She asks, and you both smile. She takes her bra off and you try your best to keep your composure but in your mind you’re smiling like a little girl.

“Go on then.” She says, and she doesn’t need to tell you twice. You pin her down, (something she definitely let you do rather than something you did yourself) and start kissing her tits, sucking only for a few seconds on each of her hard nipples. The actual flesh there is soft and you let your hand explore her exposed chest too.

She just watches, amused. Your hand reaches into her boxes and she opens her mouth to stop you, but bites her tongue. She’s not used to anything less than rough, quick sex, all of which she was usually the dominant one, but then again, she’s never been with anyone she cared about until now. She lets out a surprised and satisfied gasp when you find her weakest spot quite easily and rub circles over the area with two fingers at a swift pace.

“Mmm.” She speaks, happily. You position your head in between her legs, still moving your fingers and letting consequent moans and gasps leave her pretty lips. You kiss her inner thigh, licking the muscular skin and eventually sucking it too, leaving dark purple marks there. You go to suck her off through the fabric but she puts a hand on your chin and pulls you back up to eye height. 

“I don’t think so. My turn.” You don’t fight her on this and she pulls her underwear down, tossing it on the floor. Then, she takes off any of your remaining clothes and licks down your entire body. She spits on your pussy, as if it weren’t wet enough, and positions herself cautiously. 

She moves her leg up over your shoulder and pulls you into her and fuck. She fits in you like a fucking glove. You both gasp at the contact. Your arms are up straight to support yourself and your head tilts back, both moaning in unison.

“Mmm….fuck, baby” 

“A…Abby.” You both moan. You move faster and somehow you both manage to keep a perfect rhythm, feeling heat and various other things between you.

“Tell me I’m…fucking yours.” Abby orders between moans. 

“I’m yours Abby.” “You belong- ah~”

“I belong to Abby…Anderson.” You breathe out. She leans her head back.

“Fuck baby keep doing that and I’ll come.”

“There’s no-one else but you Abby.”

“Mmmph~” She replies, shutting her eyes. You can tell she’s so close.

“No one….can fuck me like y- ah~~”

“Fuck I’m c- mmm.” She let’s out, and you both feel each other’s orgasms in addition to your own. 

You don’t stop right away though, you ride it out until there’s nothing left and the sheet’s below you are drenched. 

When you finally regain consciousness or, at least a grip on reality, you look up at Abby who’s stroking your hair with her middle fingers.

“That was probably my most eventful patrol yet.” You say. She kisses you deeply.

“Sorry I was so rough on you.”

“Yeah, where did that even come from? I mean…do you fuck all your friends when you don’t like someone they talk to?” You tease. She huffs.

“Call me your friend again and I’ll fuck you into next week.”

You grin. 

“Deal.”

#abby x reader #abby anderson #smut #abby tlou #18+ content #tlou2 #tlou2 smut #abby the last of us #the last of us #female x female #tlou

[anantaru]

MR. & MRS. RAGNVINDR

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — following your wedding with your soulmate diluc ragnvindr, you find yourself celebrating your new bond on your wedding night.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.2k

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — repost of one of my favorite fics of mine <3

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, very soft but also rough idk, he calls you: my wife

"d—diluc.."

a short heaved dwindle of air runs over diluc's neck as he sensually places a kiss on your cheek— right then you taste the transparent love his person held towards you and it flickers and bleeds into your skin featherlight, bodies intertwined and moving in a passionate conjunction.

the crawl of his longing for you wordlessly webs and adjusts to both your saturated cunt and his cock pressing close, breathing clear wrecked with your pulse heightened.

"it's not necessary to use my name." he corrects you, slurred, "i'm your husband now, don't tell me you forgot already?"

and diluc shyly smirks into your lips as he pulls himself into your spongy cunt and expertly wiggles his hips to make sure you're sensing it, all of him, but most efficiently his need and desire to make you, his precious wife, cum and thoroughly pleased.

you try again, trying your utmost hardest to voice anything with your wet lips being perked up all prettily in a well formed pout, holding yourself tight against your husbands body as he worked you both to an everlasting climax. your nails clawed on his defined back and wielded razor sharp scratches on his skin— while between you and him, diluc loved the burn on his flesh the second you claim and mark him up in that precise manner.

"my husband.." the red haired cocks a brow and lifts his head off your neck upon gathering your words, "yes, my wife?"

his cheeks are flushed and couldn’t possible be hidden from you while his pace on you had gotten steadier and pathed faster, and he makes sure to circle his hips whenever he pushes himself in completely, whenever your warm and wet walls would shape and set just right around his shaft.

"i love you." a shaded stream of higher pitched whines and sniffles float around the humid room as diluc groans at this one particular sentence that would always manage to give him the purest kind of intimacy and love. "i love you too."

of course he does, diluc ragnvindr has been making it very obvious each and every day. but tonight, he wanted to make this special day even more extraordinary— while most importantly, was diluc eager to show you all of his skills and tricks in a whole different scenario.

by all means, as one might have already deducted, you two have been intimate in the past, many many times before, while now the pleasuring feeling was growing a tenfold and much more intense, as if you were going to explode from his tip pushing and passing the tight ring of your pussy.

diluc silently wraps your body into his arms and pushes himself forward until you‘re practically squished in between the mattress and his chest— well, breathing room although limited, with the new acquired position he was now able to reach deeper and better into your cunt. his eyes are flickering down on where your softness was constricting and spreading nice and wide, he was so big and you tremble when he began to move once again.

his hips too, were unstoppable and skilled in what they did and your honeyed cries— your moans and begs, fuck, they were his all out favorite if he had to choose one instance, especially when you spelled out the new title he only took possession off tonight.

"this.." it's disgustingly delightful when he speaks within groans, "this is forever." you gush on him and a silent scream rumbles in your belly.

"we're forever."

lustfully— and punctuated, he rolls his girth back into you and scratches your walls, the pink tip repeatedly mushing in your wet spots and interlacing with you. underneath his bangs, you find his eyes aflame, warm and flowing because diluc couldn't get enough of watching you— your squeezed eyes reeking in crystallines from an unfaltering overstimulation, or those lips he had kissed many times before now apart and gifting him with hazed hordes of winces and moans.

sweat matted itself on your coruscating bodies but it only forced your hips to retract their position and close a little up, so you could fuck yourself into him and meet his piercing pace half way. "archons— fuck!" you can feel every twitch on his length and you're clearing his shaft with your liquids, subsequently leaving it to prance down your thighs and stick on the mattress.

"fuck— diluc!" your body suddenly jolts in a manifold of cabling tingles at your lovers following thrust, it was rougher than his usual ones, as if he was trying to silently tell you that you, again, addressed him wrong.

"I'm sorry." you throw your hips upwards and hear him groan repeatedly, signaling his climax benching in his core, "my husband." though you whimper, you spread your legs apart for him more and left it to diluc and his new feral pace to taunt you wider, convulsing on his creamy cock plastered with your slick.

"where— where do you want me, my wife?" his nails sink into your thighs to practically push you back and forth his cock, his head thrown back and exposing his well formed adams apple bobbing up and down. "inside, need it inside, please!"

changing the angles, diluc shifts on the bed, after all, he wants to obey to your requests and split your entrance to make proper space for his smooth cum stuffing you right. he tilts his head back towards you and suffocates the distance of your lips to kiss you when you both deliriously moan into each other and nod frantically, his first spurts of thick cum rushing into you.

the large wave of your own climax was then sneakily closing on your body as you shivered under the towering hold of your lover, your screams loud and hazy, jamming hard as you both fucked yourself through your orgasm.

your toes curl inwards as your legs flew up to clench around his hips, barely comprehending the soul touching stir as he kept fucking you through it all, your bodies drenched in cum and slick but none of you seemed to care, it was the least of your problems, if anything, it wasn't to be called a problem at all.

"fuck, fuck!" it's such a shame you couldn't listen to his whines forever on end, how filthy someone so well behaved like diluc ragnvindr himself could sound at times.

"kiss me again." he asks and you listen, pulling him close for a wet, sloppy peck that was more teeth and tongue than anything else. you snap your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, smiling as he grunts into you.

no matter how many times you'd do it together, diluc would always end up shy afterwards, as if he didn't just fuck you into oblivion and beyond, right now, he can barely look at you— eyes closed as he continued to search and suck on your bottom lip.

you're hyper aware of this, on what you were able to inflict on him, but now, you can't say anything, voice lost and throat hurting from your on-going moans and cries. with that, he holds his hips still before slowly pulling out of you, his cock semi erect and gradually softening, utterly spent.

glowing red eyes, now fluttering apart and finding yours, unraveling all at once. diluc certainly could never get used to this, not even after making you his wife.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #diluc x reader #diluc smut #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #diluc x you #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr smut #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact fanfics

[star-sim]

supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 1

☆ non-idol! spiderman! jay x fem!reader

☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'

☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so

☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age) , this is very suggestive but there is no smut

☆ word count:  13.7k

☆ a/n: my dumbass didn't factor in character block limit when i wrote this shit so i'm gonna split this fic up into two parts... sorry guys :( lmk if you want me to tag you in part 2, also this has a diff style so lmk how we feel abt it 😇

part 2

“Oh, thank you so much, Spider-Man!”

It was a warm spring evening, and Spider-Man had been on his evening city patrol. When he found a little old lady calling for help, who was he to refuse her? Her cat had been stuck in a tree, and she needed someone to help her. Hopping up on the tree, he safely retrieved the ball of fluff.

“Of course, Ma’am,” the superhero chuckled. If only she could see him through his mask, he would be grinning. “Get home safely.”

Watching the little lady’s retreating back, Spider-Man shot a web to the top of a building, and hoisted himself up into the air.

On late-spring nights like this, it was peaceful. He liked the breeze that hit his masked face as he swung from building to building. Around this time, rush hour would be beginning, and all the university students would be getting out. Speaking of…

Peeking over a billboard, Spider-Man peered down to the university campus. His own university campus.

There was no reason in particular for this, but he liked to watch the university around evening time. Most people were beginning their commute home or to the dorms, but campus crime was not rare at all. It could be small offenses like graffiti or theft, but he would prefer those types of things to just not exist at all at a place like the university. And, he just liked to check up on his friends or people he knew, to make sure they were getting home safely.

His eyes narrowed at a familiar figure that made its way across campus. Even from a tall building, he could recognize that head. His jaw clenched, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip before shooting another web and slinging away.

By the time it was fully dark out, Spider-Man had finished his night patrol. 

Sitting on the roof of his apartment complex, he didn’t quite want to go in yet. He liked freedom: the physical freedom yielded from spider-like abilities– practically flying through the air– and the social freedom of anonymity. Leaning back on his palms, Spider-Man took a deep breath.

The clouds were beginning to clear up because of the weather, so the moon and stars were extra visible tonight. Clothed fingers creeped up to his neck, carefully pulling up the red mask that covered his face.

He was lucky that no one else casually sat on top of apartment complexes, or else his identity would be revealed.

Jay Park.

The moonlight glimmered on his honey-gold tan skin. The night breeze was cool, kissing his hot cheeks. He ran a hand through his tousled coal-ebony hair, letting his sweaty forehead that had been covered for hours air out.

Truth be told, he was a tad exhausted. It’s not common for the safety of a city to lie on the shoulders of a struggling university student like himself. Throwing his head back and letting dark locks fall over his eyebrows, he let out a huff.

Shit, there’s a party tomorrow.

Everyone liked to boast about the idea of soulmates. 

The idea that fate existed as the binding force that drew lovers of all disparate backgrounds together was prolific, pervading in all parts of history. From severed limbs that shared the same primordial origin, to congenital tattoos containing initials, to even timers that counted down every second until meeting, the concept of soulmates has been longed for, craved for, lusted for- for centuries.

Unfortunately, for you, the notion that everyone had an innate and pre-destined lover was a tad ridiculous.

There was no way that you could believe in soulmates.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

But you did believe in natural enemies.

“I can ask you the same thing, Park.”

Tonight was the soccer team mixer, an end-of-the-year party that the university’s team hosted to celebrate yet another exciting school year. Courtesy of your friends, you and your thick-ass glasses ended up attending. 

Tonight was supposed to be a nice night. It really was. Junior year of university was a stressful one, and you were more than ready to party all your worries away: you figured that you earned it. 

Much to your misfortune, though, there was someone else that decided to attend: the most insufferable, loud, and obnoxious person to ever exist, Jay Park.

There were several reasons to despise him and his funky, tousled hair. He was loud, rowdy, fiery, rambunctious, unruly, uncouth, uncivilized, hot-headed, talked way too much, had no sense of volume, and in your very personal opinion, just sucked. And, apparently, he was a total freak. He would show up to parties and socials, cause a ruckus with his presence, and then randomly disappear. He stood weirdly, and his mannerisms were just strange.

If you could go back and change history, you would have never allowed yourself to even meet such a person. Unfortunately, you two had intersecting friend groups and many mutual friends; there was no avoiding him given your social circles.

It started back in freshman year of highschool. The two of you were sat next to each other on the first day of fourth period English Honors. Your teacher must have seen something that you didn’t, because it was almost impossible for you to even talk to each other. Jay, the pubescent boy he was, would crack a few jokes. You, though, would stare at him vacantly, as if you were expecting him to add on. 

“Can you stop talking?” you asked him once. “Your jokes aren’t funny.”

You had meant it in a helpful way.

“If you want to make it funnier, maybe have a set-up and punchline? Your jokes don’t land.”

Really.

You were genuinely trying to be helpful. 

The only issue was that, like everyone else in the world, Jay didn’t take that well.

From then until the second quarter, you and Jay would only talk to each other if specifically asked to. You would turn around to the girl that sat behind you, and Jay would talk to the guy that sat diagonally in front of him. And when you guys did speak Jay would be unnecessarily dry, and in response, you would get irritated and snap at him.

When you finally moved seats next quarter, you still managed to see each other around. Too much. Your only interactions were limited to a few judgy glances, and occasionally, glares.

During the fourth quarter, Jay made an attempt to mend your relationship when you guys were placed adjacent to each other again. 

Except, now it was your turn to be offended. 

“Hey, I know I was a dick and you were a bitch, but-”

“I was a bitch?”

You’d kick his chair in class, and when the two of you were inevitably forced to talk, it’d be short and curt.

Truly, it was the summer of freshman year that really catapulted your relationship into what it was today. 

When you hung out with your friends over the summer, Jay was always (and truly, always) there. 

Initially, it was awkward.

But when you learned that Jay liked the same band as you– Muse– you thought that you could finally put your terse relationship to an end. 

“You listen to Muse?” You had tapped his shoulder one day at the beach. He was hunched over, listening to his music with earphones jammed into his ears peacefully. He looked bemused, cocking a brow at you.

It must have been the way that you said it. Poor, slightly socially-inept you, who, up until that point, couldn’t control your tone of voice. It was no surprise that Jay thought you were making fun of him.

Brusquely standing up, he snatched his earbuds up to go somewhere [Name]-free, grumbling something under his breath.

From then on, you two rarely got along.

“Something about his face pisses me off.”

“I don’t like how she says things.”

“He makes me so angry for some reason.”

“She’s a total nerdo freak.”

“I need to fight him.”

“I need to fight her.”

For the first two years of high school, there was non-stop bickering. Not necessarily malicious in intent, but it was clear that neither of you liked each other.

The closest thing to a “friendship” that the two of you formed was during the second semester of sophomore year, when your friend started liking his friend, and vice versa.

Both of you were getting tired of seeing your friends so cluelessly in love with each other, so you and Jay joined forces to push them together. Secret in-class texting, after-school discussions, shared knowing looks, and when they finally got together on the last day of school, a perfectly-timed fist-bump. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you and Jay Park made a wonderful team.

After that, you were just on your way to becoming great friends. Obviously, not as close as other friends, but it was undoubted that you had incredible potential to become very good friends.

Until one midsummer night.

“You knew that Taehyun Kang was cheating on Isa– with the girl that he swore up and down she shouldn't worry about– and said nothing?” 

It was a difficult night. Especially when you had to console a weeping friend on one call and yell at Jay Park on the other. 

“He’s my best friend, too,” was all Jay had said.

“And?” You had been incredulous. “Taehyun’s been making googly-eyes at that girl since way before he got with Isa! You knew. You’ve known this entire time and you still-”

“I didn’t know.”

You remembered the anger that began to bubble inside of you. You had spent the past few weeks trying to fix your aggression issues, because it was Jay that told you about your first interaction that got you guys off on the wrong foot. But now, you really couldn’t suppress it.

“Yes you fucking did!” you yelled over the phone. “I know you did. Don’t try to pull this shit on me, Jay.”

He didn’t respond.

“You’ve known this entire time, and you didn’t say anything.”

He had huffed over the phone, grumbling something incoherent. “I didn’t know until a few days before school ended.”

“A few days before school ended?--” You had sunken your teeth into your bottom lip, for the anger that was just beginning to heat up was now rising to a boil– “That was a few days before they got together! You had time to say something– but you didn’t.”

“What did you want me to do?” Jay was now getting angry. “You wanted me to speak up and ruin everything?”

“You could have. You should have. But you didn’t.”

“It’s not my responsibility, [Name]. It’s not your or my responsibility.”

The boiling anger was now seething. “Yes, it fucking was!”

“No, it wasn-”

If Jay could have seen your face over the phone, it would have been twisted with both disbelief and indignation.

“When you and I teamed up to get Taehyun and Isa together,” you asserted through clenched teeth, “there were some things we took responsibility for. And when they got together, we had the responsibility to be good friends. Good fucking people, Park! You–”

You had to take a few moments to breathe. “You had the power– You had the knowledge that your best friend was a cheating bastard that would– You know what? You’re just like him. You could’ve been a normal fucking person and did things the right way, but you lack responsibility and basic intelligence to do so.”

Through the course of that messy break-up, a few more screaming matches between you and Jay came about. Really, it should have been an argument for your friends to have, but you and Jay had had enough of each other. The floodgate that had held your relationship finally broke.

For the rest of your high school years, every interaction would just be blows at each other. It started as subtle, harmless jabs. But over time, those jabs became hostile. Petty actions, like light shoves or stealing pens, evolved into spiteful and calculated attacks, such as purposefully tripping the other or intentionally cutting the other out of a group photo.

Eventually, your friends made up and the break-up rift was resolved, but not you and Jay’s rocky relationship. 

The horror you and Jay must have felt when you found out you were going to the same university.

At the present, pushing up the metal-framed glasses that delicately laid on your nose, you could feel Jay’s dark eyes boring into you. Giving him a once-over, your nose scrunched. Once again, you’re reminded of why you could not stand this guy.

Tonight was a soccer mixer. A college mixer. Looking around, everyone was dressed as if they were college students at a college party. Because that’s what they were.

Girls, including yourself, wore small dresses and short skirts with plunging necklines and fat, wedged heels. They did their hair in all kinds of elaborate styles– you tied your hair into a half-down-half-up style. The guys wore ripped jeans, form-fitting button-ups, leather jackets, and if you were a soccer player, the iconic soccer team jacket- but really anything that was casual and easy to move in.

Jay Park, on the other hand, swore a deep-green hoodie with ripped jeans, like the uncultured villain he was.

Okay, maybe you were being biased.

A few of your friends did come in wearing hoodies and ripped jeans, and you did, in fact, come through the door of this frat house with an oversized hoodie draped over your shoulders. But, the difference was that this was Jay Park. Everything that he did was uncultured and barbaric.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” you remarked, glaring up at him through your lashes. You were on your way to grab a few drinks for your friends in the kitchen when you bumped into none other than Jay Park. “You hang around Jake Sim, I hang around Jake Sim. Use your critical thinking.”

Jake Sim was a mutual friend between you and Jay, who just so happened to be on the university’s soccer team. Great guy, but the only thing that you would complain about was the fact that every time you hung out with him, you would inevitably meet Jay.

Jay scoffed. “Didn’t think a prude like you would actually show up to a party like this.”

“Prude?” Of all times to be calling you prude, it really shouldn’t be now, when you were wearing possibly the shortest and tightest dress with the most risque neckline that you’ve ever worn in your entire life. Those thin spaghetti straps were not doing you any justice. And especially because you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes would linger around your silhouette. “Who’s the one who hasn’t been laid in months? Who’s the one with the worst box-dyed hair on the entire campus? Who’s the one that lacks any social awareness and says the most uncomfortable shit in a voice at 260 fucking decibels? Who randomly disappears? Who moves around like a goddamn insect?”

“That’s not even fucking true!” The man waved his hands in front of himself defensively. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”

“I’m annoying? You’re the creep that follows me around everywhere.”

“You said it yourself! We have a mutual friend so we always end up-”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling that we end up in the same places because you choose to follow me-”

“I can assure you that no one wants to follow your nerdo freak ass-”

“Oh wow! How creative. You’ve been calling me that since we were fourteen–”

“Because that’s what you are! A nerdo freak that can’t do shit–”

“Why are you even here? You always have that job that you leave to-”

“Hey, hey, hey, party people!” a new voice interjected. 

Jake Sim, your mutual friend, with sleek sunglasses resting on his nose and a beer in his hand, suddenly appeared between your arguing bodies, throwing an arm around each of you.

“Jakey!” you exclaimed.

“‘Sup.” Jake was a suave guy, not a wonder that so many people liked him. “What were the two of you talking about? Looked like you were having fun!”

Jay cringed, his lips curling. Of all words, ‘fun’ would be the furthest from a good descriptor of your interaction. You seemed to think the same.

“Nothing,” you said through clenched teeth and brief glare to the ebony-haired man. 

Jake frowned. “Awww, don’t tell me you guys were fighting again!”

You and Jay locked eyes.

‘Don’t you fucking dare,' his eyes said.

‘Wasn’t going to,’ yours replied.

Jake Sim was a sociable guy. Unfortunately, it made him a little obsessed with making everyone get along. So when he found out that you and Jay deeply disliked each other in junior year of high school, he made it his life’s mission to make you get along.

Didn’t work. It really only made you hate each other more.

“We weren’t,” Jay affirmed, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip. 

When Jake cocked a brow, you added, “Yeah, we weren’t.”

When Jake left you two alone again, there was a thick silence that fell over you (as silent as a rowdy college party could get). You took your drink, and turned to leave.

“Go fuck yourself, by the way,” you spat.

There’s many issues with college parties. A few hundred bodies of sweaty late-teen-early-twenty-somethings all squished together in a single frat house with alcohol and drugs was just a recipe for disaster. Alas, that was simply the college way.

To Jay Park, other than the fact that there was, ahem, usually the presence of people that he didn’t like at college parties, there was the fact alcohol was practically everywhere. No matter how many times he could vow to not drink on one particular night, he always ended up slightly buzzed or full-out drunk.

Like right now.

It was late into the night, but the party hadn’t died down even a little bit. His friends pulled him onto the dance floor. Normally, he would scurry off, probably scared that he might lose control of his spider abilities, but with the booming techno music, blinding LED lights, and alcohol that had happily found its way into his system, Jay’s mind was completely hazy. He could barely feel his own feet below him.

The next thing he knew, there was a body up against him. Definitely smaller than him, but plush and soft, moving fluidly to the music. His mind was completely fuzzy, but Jay could smell a familiar scent. Sweet and almost citrusy, like a summer orange. His arm slithered around the person’s waist, pulling them closer to his own body. His fingers found themselves snaking toward the person’s hip. His larger hands gave it squeeze, earning him a barely-audible squeal. 

If only he knew that the person was you.

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to him, but he felt a shock of fervor and excitement rake through his body.

Bodies moving closely together, he could feel a ghost of your warmth where there was clothes; where clothing was, he could only feel a touch of warmth. 

Jay could feel everything, thanks to his heightened spidey senses and the alcohol. Every motion of your body against his, every breath you took. Which is why even when intoxicated, he could clearly hear the song change from techno to punk rock– Muscle Museum by that one band he’s liked since freshman year of highschool. Muse, was it?

“Fuck, I love this song,” he heard you mutter in your own tipsy state.

Jay was sure you couldn’t hear him, but he slurred back, “Me too.”

His hands explored.

A bare thigh, soft and creamy. An exposed neck, an unclad arm, an ample uncovered chest. Something metal on your face– a piercing? glasses? You must have been wearing jewelry, because he could feel cold metal hanging from your neck and splaying across your chest.

(The amount of practice it took for him to be able to ensure no sticky webs came out of his palms was out of this world. Sober Jay would have been a little more careful, but it was a good thing that he practiced so much.)

When his hand gave your waist another squeeze, something must have clicked in your mind, because you slid your arms around his neck, turning your body to press your chests together. Pedicured fingers ran across his chest through the fabric of his hoodie, ending up at his shoulders. Another jolt of warmth and electricity coursed through his veins.

Jay’s head was way too blurred to really take a look at you in front of him, but again, that familiar scent filled his senses. 

When the lights dimmed and music slowed, you rested your head on his shoulder. He could feel your breath fanning against his neck, lip brushing against his skin. Your lips were half-moist; it must have been gloss that made it sticky, but there was a hint of dryness that he could tell was from being swollen– you were biting your lip so much it was becoming swollen. A warm chill rushed down his spine. 

How drunk was he at this point? He didn’t care, because the next thing he knew, he was pushed up against a wall in a dark hallway.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath, as you shoved your pedicured hands up his hoodie and played with the belt loops of his ripped jeans.  Throwing his head back against the wall, he heard you giggle, before you ghosted your hand over his lower abdomen, effectively sending waves of warmth down his body. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, flinching. He cursed his spidey senses for making him so sensitive to touch. “Don’t fucking do that- don’t tease me.”

He heard another giggle, before he felt a few nimble fingers grasping his chin gently, pulling his face down for a better reach.

It was a soft, but crazily attractive, voice that whined in his ear, “But you’re so cute like this.”

And then you continued, slipping your hand up and down his bare abdomen, occasionally stopping near his collarbone to tug on the metal necklace that laid so delicately. Meanwhile, you pressed open-mouth kisses on his neck, eliciting the softest sighs of satisfaction.

Truth be told, Jay had no idea that it was you who was all pressed up against him, but for some reason, the fact that he didn’t know turned him on even more. 

The wet kisses, which he was sure left sparkly pink traces of lip gloss, littered all over his skin, trailing from the part where his jaw and ear met, to his collarbones, to his Adam’s apple, and finally, to his chin.

With a squeeze to his bicep, you gently cupped his cheek, pulling him closer. With an experimental hand, you swiped your thumb over his bottom lip, pressing onto the cold metal piercing that adorned his lip.

It was a dark hallway, but it was now that Jay noticed the light that reflected off of your glasses’ lens. When he tried to look for your eyes, he was only met with the sleek shine that reflected off your glasses.

“Let me kiss you,” you purred into his ear as you ran your thumb over his lips. It was now that he could smell the tequila from your breath. “Please?”

Jay, all in his equally-drunken glory, threw his head back again against the wall, making a thud sound. “Fuuuuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Yeah. You’re hot.”

You giggled. You gave his lip piercing one more tap of the finger before entangling your hands in his dark hair, giving it a soft tug. It was a good thing that he was pushed so close against a wall, because Jay swore his knees were going to give out. 

“Thank you, baby.”

You gave his hair another tug, staring straight into his eyes. The half-panicked expression that spread across his face made you crack a small grin of satisfaction, and Jay felt embarrassed under your gaze. Gently holding his face, you pressed soft butterfly kisses along his jawline before you ended up at his chin. You pulled him closer so that your chests were pushed all the way against each other, the majority of your weight on him against the wall.

Jay swiped a tongue over his lip, sucking in a sharp and shallow breath. His chest rose and fell, swallowing so hard in anticipation that his Adam’s apple bobbed. You brushed your nails along his bicep before clasping hands with him; in a swift movement, you pinned his hands flat on the wall next to his head. 

The gap between your faces was closing. You were only a few inches apart at this point. Hot breaths and glassy eyes.

Hands still pinned against the wall, Jay could not tear his eyes away from that glossy sheen on your glasses. He wanted so badly to see your eyes, lock onto them. Usually, the inability to see someone’s eyes would make a kiss less appealing, but for some reason, it only made things more intimate for him. Combined with the darkness and intoxicated state, the anonymity was a turn-on.

Almost as if to tease him, you peppered soft kisses along his chin and around his lips. Freeing his hand from your grip, Jay snuck it around your waist, pressing you all the way up against him. He could feel every curve and divot of your body now; with the softness and plush skin, he wanted to explore it once again with his touch. His big hand traveled down your waist to your hips, caressed your ass, and ended up on the backside of your thigh. He freed his other hand to do the same, resulting in two hands on your thighs.

Jay parted his lips, peering down at you through lidded eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The music had faded in the background, but his heart pounded to the beat of the slow R&B. 

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

So close. You were so close.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Sliding his hands up your back to your shoulders, Jay gave it a squeeze. In a swift movement, he flipped your positions around, pushing you gently against the wall and placing a flat palm above you head.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

You giggled, grappling for his hair once again. 

Again, he could smell that sweet, citrusy scent.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Jay leaned in. 

There was a sort of tenderness—intimacy— that he suddenly craved for. Closing that gap, having skin on skin, lip to lip, he needed it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

If he just got a little closer… a few more centimeters, and your lips would-

Beep beep!

What-

Beep beep!

Bewildered, Jay flinched back.

It was his watch, which lit up the dark hallway.

You held his bicep, trying to pull him back in. He resisted.

Beep beep! Time to go! his watch went on.

“Baby,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

Jay bit his tongue. As sensible as an intoxicated person can be, his eyes narrowed at his glowing wristwatch. 

Fuck.

“I-I have to go.” Jay pushed off the wall, turning toward the hallway entrance. He was feeling dizzy.

“What? But-”

He eyed his watch, which was now glowing a red color.

“Shit, shit-” He turned over his shoulder, slurring out, “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t see your face but he could feel disappointed and confused eyes boring into his back.

On his way out of the frat house, Jay took a bottle of water and chugged it, sobering up (though still feeling shitfaced and nasty). He rushed out of the house, and the moment he stepped out onto the pavement, his phone rang.

“What happened this time, Jungwon?” he grumbled into his phone, still catching his breath. His hand came up to touch his neck. Even out here and sobered up, he could still feel the sticky kisses pressed against his skin, setting his cheeks aflame against the cold night air.

On the other side of the phone, a childish voice spoke. “Doctor Discotheque!”

“What?”

He heard a huff. “Doctor Discotheque! Remember? That villain guy! He’s here!”

Jay scoffed. “Where’s ‘here’?”

“At home, you dummy!”

Sometimes, Jay wondered why he employed his eight-year-old kid brother, Jungwon, or Wonnie, to help him with his Spider-Man endeavors. Given the fact that the kid was literally eight years old, it might have been a little pathetic to enlist the help of someone who couldn’t even do basic math. But honestly, Wonnie was the best he had– the kid was terribly excited to find out that his big brother was a superhero and he promised not to tell anyone only if Jay 1) told him everything that happened (correction: everything cool that happened, the kid didn’t want to hear about helping old people use the subway) and 2) let him be intel. There wasn’t much a grade-schooler could do to be a valuable informant (what was Jay going to let him do, run around the street at night?), but he sure did have a lot of time on his hands.

“Okay, okay,” Jay rubbed the scar on his nose. “Where at home? Like, in the complex? Outside?”

“Two floors below us.”

“What.”

Just as Jay was outside the general vicinity of mixer-goers, he heard a slew of heavy footsteps and then suddenly felt two arms wrap around his torso.

“What the-”

A very, very, very familiar voice began sobbing into his back. “Why’d you leeeavvvvveee?”

You.

You tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his hoodie-clad back. “Whyyyyyyyyyy?” you drawled.

“The fuck-?” Jay, cringing into his skin, tried to pull away. However, his nose picked up a scent that he was more than mortified to recognize. It was sweet and citrusy. And when his eyes caught the outline of your metal-framed glasses and the illumination that was strewn across the lens, all hell broke loose.

“Jay?” Wonnie’s voice called over the line. “Jay! Spider-Man! Is everything okay?”

“Hold on-” Jay replied. “Fuck, just give me a second.”

You, [Name] [Last Name], possibly one of the most insufferable people ever, was the one that he was all over just five minutes ago. You were the one that had him pressed up against the wall. You were the one that was touching and kissing him all over. You were the one that sent chills down his spine. You were the one that he was minutes away from taking into a spare bedroom and-

He sucked in a sharp breath. Not the time to think about that.

Now that he had soaked in the fresh air outside the frat house, the smell of alcohol was strong on your person. It consoled him that everything happened because both of you were drunk, at least.

“[N-Name],” he muttered. “[Name], let go.”

You were fuckfaced drunk, holding and clinging onto him like your life depended on it and wailing. Jay never thought that he’d find a day where you would be like this to him.

“I want youuuuu,” you slurred. “Come baaaaack insiiiideeee.”

“Jesus Christ, you college kids,” Wonnie clicked his tongue on the other side of the line. “Get a room.”

“Shut it,” Jay spat. Turning his attention to you sobbing in his arms, he figured that you had no idea that the person you were all over was him. If you did, you would be kicking and screaming at him. 

As much as he needed to go, he didn’t feel great about leaving a drunk woman (no matter how much he disliked you) alone at night at the side of a road.

“[Name], where are your friends?”

You sniffled. “I don’t knowww.”

Jay huffed. He couldn’t find your phone, and he wasn’t going to hang up on his brother– who he honestly really needed to get to, like, right now.

He had a few options: fail at his job as Spider-Man by leaving a drunk woman unattended, go inside and physically look for your friends which will delay him going to Wonnie, or take you home himself. He did not have a lot of time.

Which is why he was currently carrying you, his worst enemy, bridal style as he shoots webs across the sky, all the while being on call with his kid brother.

“When are you getting home again?” Wonnie asked.

“Give me, like-” Jay looked around the city- “Five minutes.”

A lucky feat of being Spider-Man was that he had incredible speed and agility. 

It wasn’t going to take much longer to get to your apartment, which he now realized was very close to his own apartment complex.

Actually, he was heading straight towards his apartment complex. 

Weird. 

Maybe yours is the one behind it? 

Nope, there’s just an old construction site behind it.

Wait, so then where’s your apartment…?

Oh my god, you lived in the same apartment complex as him.

Speaking of, you were asleep in his arms. 

“Won, what is Doctor Discotheque doing?”

“Having tea with our downstairs neighbors.”

“What?”

“What kind of question is that?!” Wonnie yelled over the phone. “He’s a supervillain! What do you think he’s doing? Wreaking havoc, duh!”

Jay took a deep breath so as to not yell back at this kid. “Yeah, I know. What in particular is he doing?”

“He’s being rude to the apartment staff.” When he was met with a judgmental silence, Wonnie groaned. “I’m serious. I think he’s waiting for you. He’s just being super mean to people right now.”

Damnit.

Jay took a look at the unconscious you in his arms. “Wonnie, I’m going to drop someone by the balcony. Take her in, will ya?”

Before Wonnie could blow up on him for bringing a ‘her’ home, Jay brusquely said, “I’m going down to kick Doctor Discotheque’s ass.”

Of all things in the world, you did not expect to wake up in Jay Park’s bed. 

The next morning, you woke up with probably the worst headache you’ve ever had. You were never one to drink, but maybe the university stress was really getting to you. Groaning, you sunk your face into the freshly-washed white sheets. All seemed normal, until you realized a few things:

First, who took you home last night? You had no memory of anything that happened at the mixer that night. If you thought about it hard, you could probably remember getting ready for it, meeting some, ahem, unpleasant people, talking to a few friends… and really nothing more. In fact, the bedroom you were in right now didn’t look like it belonged to any of your friends. 

Second, you were still in your clothes from last night. And makeup. And hair.

How did you get home last night? 

This was probably the worst hangover you’ve had in a while. Nevertheless, when you realized that there was talking outside the room, you got out of bed to investigate. 

Which led you to possibly the worst thing to ever witness.

Jay Park, with wet hair, shirtless on the couch.

The shrill scream you let out was enough to get a complaint from the neighbors.

“Oh my fuck, calm down,” Jay, in all his bitch-faced glory, rolled his eyes.

“You- You want me to calm down?” You were scandalized. Horrified. “You’re literally- You’re-”

“This is my house,” his eyes bored into you. “I can do whatever I want.”

“This- This is your house?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

There was another ear-splitting scream before Jay convinced you to sit down so he could explain.

“You don’t need to sit so far away from me,” Jay dead-panned when you sat at the very edge of the couch.

“I don’t want to be near you,” you murmured.

“That's rich coming from someone that was all over me yesterday.”

The utmost and utter horror painted across your face was nearly laughable. 

You?

All over Jay?

Was that why you woke up in his home…? In his bed?

“Oh my god,” you clasped a hand over your mouth. “Did we…”

“No.”

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Then how am I here then?”

Jay sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

If you weren't completely stunned into silence from the fact that you woke up in Jay Park’s bed, then you were now. Jay recounted a rather detailed account of what happened the night before– the two of you got drunk, and ended up more than touchy with each other. Your face heated up, with both embarrassment and… anger? 

Frowning, you asked, “Then why’d you bring me home?”

“You were crying and begging me to come back inside with you, but I had to go.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms.

“Go on.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you out there drunk, you know,” Jay shrugged. “I was going to bring you to your apartment, but I had to fight– I mean– Spider-Man had to fight some.. Um, villain downstairs.”

You nodded slowly, but skeptically. Sensing your cynicism, Jay added quickly, “You can check the news. The fight was on the seventh floor.”

Your ears perked up. “Seventh floor?”

“Yeah-”

“That’s where I live.”

Jay’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shit.”

A great thing about being Spider-Man was that he was technically a government worker, a public service provider. The government paid for all the casualties caused by his work, luckily. Gone were the days that he’d be considered a masked menace.

As great as this was, it led to Jay being more or less reckless. Not that he was throwing shit around and purposefully breaking property when protecting citizens, but he had the freedom to do whatever was necessary. If he had to break down walls to save people, then so be it.

Speaking up, Spider-Man went a little.. Err… crazy last night. Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in his system, or the fact that Doctor Discotheque the supervillain was literally insane. Safe to say, when fighting in the hallway of the seventh floor, Jay got a little aggressive and broke a few more things than usual.

If you found out that he-- Jay-- was Spiderman, a.k.a. the one that probably damaged your home, he’d be dead. Luckily, you wouldn't find out. Unluckily, your apartment was among those that were damaged last night.

“Can you stop that?” Jay said.

There were many reasons that Jay Park deeply disdained you. You were nit-picky, snobby, arrogant, pretentious, overly-critical, fussy, and extremely judgmental. Everyone thought you were some sort of genius, and he could tell that you liked the fact that they did. 

“I’m fuckin’ stressed,” you spat as you paced around the floor. “I don’t think I can really ‘stop.’”

Not that he was a sick person, but the expression of genuine distress spread all over your face was almost satisfying. But then Jay realized the situation you were in and he knew it was his fault, so he felt just a little bad. 

You lost your phone last night, and your apartment was more than a little damaged, the entire seventh floor being tarped and taped off. Sitting on the couch, you chewed on your bottom lip. It wasn’t even noon yet. Given your group of friends and the events last night, it wasn’t likely that any of them were awake at this time. And you didn’t have your phone- it wasn’t like you could just easily phone someone that wasn’t there last night.

You had a massive headache, feeling lightheaded with a throbbing sensation up there. You felt gross, with smudged makeup and the same tiny dress from last night. You could definitely walk to a friend’s place and wait there, but the heels you wore last night were the tallest, most painful, party-purposed stilettos. You were absolutely not walking around the city in those shoes.

The worst part about it all was that you were stuck in the apartment of none other than Jay Park. 

Could you appreciate the fact that he looked out for you by taking you home? Yeah, sure.

But could you stand him? Absolutely not.

“Why are you walking around like that?” He was getting persnickety, as payback for all the times that you’d been nit-picky towards him. “You’re going to ruin my floorboards.”

You sent him a glare. Some empathy would be nice, you thought, rolling your eyes.

There really was only one person that was accessible to you if you wanted to get out of here, and it was Jay himself. You never really thought that there would be a day where you would need to ask for his help, but here you were, practically stranded. Speaking of, he was ignoring you, occasionally looking up from his phone to give you a weird look.

If you wanted to go home, you would need to swallow your pride and just ask for help.

You prided yourself in your ability to be blunt. You were a natural leader, ambitious and aggressive. You never had an issue with announcing your wants or needs. But now faced with the piercing silence of Jay Park, you simply could not open your mouth to speak. It wasn’t like you couldn't ask him, but that you wouldn't. Curling your lips, you let the glum, nearly shameful, feeling fall over yourself.

Eyes tracing the man’s outline carefully, you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

‘[Name], you can do this,’ you recited to yourself. ‘You can do this. Just talk to him, just talk to-’

You pressed your lips together, before taking a deep breath and opening your mouth to speak. As you attempted to say his name, no sound came out. When he glanced up at you suspiciously,you quickly averted your gaze and closed your mouth.

When he looked away, your eyes flickered back to him, simply drilling into him. You licked your lips. For the second time, you opened your mouth to say his name, bracing yourself for the sound of your voice, but Jay spoke before you did.

“What are you looking at?” 

You stood up straight like a board, pushing up your glasses clumsily.

“I- Well-”you cursed yourself for stammering. You never stammered like this. “I…”

He looked at you expectantly.

Your ego, that fat chunk of an ego, was crumbling.

“Park,” you brusquely said. 

He leered at you. “What?”

You stared at him awkwardly, lips pressed into a line as thin as paper. “I… I.. um.”

He clicked his tongue impatiently. “On with it.”

You huffed loudly. 

“Can I please use your phone?”

The second last thing that you expected to happen ever was to be sitting on Jay Park’s bed with wet hair wearing his hoodie and sweatpants. And that other than asking him for help.

Never have you felt so ashamed of yourself, sitting on the soft bed with your knees up to your chest. 

The judgy glance that Jay gave you was absolutely soul-crushing, and after a humiliating stutter-filled explanation, he simply said, “Go take a shower.”

Were you initially mortified? Absolutely. But after soaking in the warm water for a few minutes, you begrudgingly thanked him. But only in your head.

Staring at a spot on the floor, you pressed your face into your knee, reflecting upon everything that had happened. As you were lost in thought, what startled you was a loud beeping sound, the slamming of a window, and yelling. You jumped to your feet in reaction, but before you could creep out of the bedroom, someone else came in.

Instead of a tall, well-built man with black hair, it was a young boy no older than ten holding a massive walkie talkie.

“Who- Who are you?”

The boy blinked owlishly, before cracking a grin. “Oh, it’s you!”

You recoiled. “Wh-What?”

“You’re the lady from last night!” he laughed, revealing sharp canine teeth. When you only looked more bewildered, he continued, “The lady that Jjongsaeng brought home last night!”

Jjongsaeng? “You mean Park— er, Jay?”

The boy frowned. “He didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend,” he murmured to himself quietly, before turning over to you. “Mhm!”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You were a little concerned. Who was this child and why was he in Jay Park’s apartment?

“Oh!” The boy laughed again, throwing his head back. He came closer to you, extending a small hand towards you. “Jungwon! But just call me Wonnie!”

Okay, but your question wasn’t answered exactly. “Are you…” you took a better look at Wonnie. He was just so small! Though, he looked an awful lot like Jay Park… – “Are you his son… or…?”

The boy put an offended hand over his chest, scowling deeply. 

“Son?” he gawked. “I’m his brother!!”

Your lips formed an ‘o.’

“And what’s your name?” Wonnie looked at you curiously.

“[Name] [Last Name]– Just– Just call me [Name].”

A silence fell over you two.

“Do you- Do you know where your brother is?” When Wonnie gave you a suspicious look, you quickly added, “I need to use his phone.”

He gave you another long stare, before saying simply, “He’s not here.”

How could he not be here? Jay was just here, like, twenty minutes ago? “What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.

“He-” Wonnie’s large eyes hovered over to the window quickly, before fluttering back to you. “He went to work.”

“Doesn’t he have a night internship?”

Wonnie grumbled something under his breath, almost looking stressed, gripping the walkie talkie. “Yyyyyessss,” he nodded slowly. “But he has a day job too…. As an.. Um, photographer?”

You nodded slowly. “Right. When do you expect he’ll be back?”

Wonnie glanced at the window again. “In, like, fifteen minutes-”

Crash!

You two rushed over to the living room window, peering across to the construction site behind the apartment complex. There, there were news reporters, blaring ambulances and police cars, and rubble and dust everywhere. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Spider-Man and two criminals.

“Oh my god, is that Spider-Man?”

Wonnie didn’t seem as impressed as you, opting to toy with his walkie talkie. “Yeah, he’s here all the time. Cool guy.”

You frowned. You lived only a few floors down and you wouldn’t say that Spider-Man was ‘here all the time.’ 

“Really? This is my first time seeing him.”

Fingering the window handle, you pushed it open.

You’d heard all the stories. Your friends talk about seeing the red-and-blue-clad hero with his iconic spider logo. He was some neighborhood hero. According to a few of your friends, he’d help them fight off muggers and creeps, swinging in with his sticky white webs just moments before all hell broke loose. Apparently, he was a super suave guy, and according to a few, really hot. 

“As hot as a masked hero can be,” you would laugh with your friends. Now watching from a few stories up, you could definitely see the appeal. The sun was out, casting a harsh shadow on Spider-Man’s defined back muscles. The skin-tight suit hugged his strong arms and sturdy build. 

There was something so fascinating about Spider-Man. He was strong, friendly, dutiful, sure. But what made him so alluring was that you wanted to study him– dissect him. It was only in your nature to want to know every single inner-workings of a figure like him.

You then felt a poke at your side. It was Wonnie.

“What, are you in love with him or something?”

You tore your eyes from Spider-Man’s figure. “What? No!”

Wonnie raised his brows. “Hmmm… Okay.”

You turned back over to the window, except when you scanned for Spider-Man, he had disappeared completely.

“Hey, where did he-”

The front door of the Park apartment flew right open, revealing a disheveled Jay Park. 

“Y-You’re back already?” Wasn’t he just at a job….?

Jay waved his hand in front of him, taking off his shoes. “Yeah. Why? Were you gonna do something?”

Your nose scrunched. “No! I just thought you were at a job.”

Jay scoffed. “Who told you that-” He cut himself off when he noticed the awkward expression painted across Wonnie’s face. 

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” he muttered.

Jay Park would have never guessed that you would be sleeping in his bed. For the second night. In a row. None of your friends had enough space for you to crash, and if not, they just didn’t pick up the phone. 

“You need better friends,” Jay had told you in a matter-of-fact way, earning a sharp glare. 

And it wasn’t an easy decision to let you stay with him either.

The apartment was a 2-bedroom one. One for himself, one for his kid brother. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make Wonnie leave his room or you and Wonnie share a room, and he most definitely was not sharing a bed with you. He’d make you sleep on the couch, but the Spider-Man in him told him not to. So very grudgingly, Jay let you take his room.

He was only allowing this because it was him that practically destroyed your apartment. Even if he didn’t like you, he did take responsibility for what happened.

Maybe that one argument you had the summer of sophomore year got to him. 

And plus, he could not stand you. All the little jabs you made at him, even down to your facial expressions, had him riled up. But, for the sake of the child in the room, Jay made no big attempt to fight back.

Curled up on the couch, Jay couldn’t shake off the glum feeling that settled on his chest.

Jay Park never realized how many qualms he would have with another person living in his house. 

He was okay with Wonnie, because Wonnie knew his identity as Spider-Man. And plus, Wonnie was his brother– that little squirt was tolerable. When it’s just the two of them, Jay could do basically anything he wanted. Wonnie was more than enthusiastic when he would use his webs to pull objects toward him or hang on the ceiling just because he could, and it was a rather common occurrence for you two to make a ruckus whenever there was crime in town. Jay could go do Spider-Man things whenever he needed to, and Wonnie would be okay with it.

But now with you living with him temporarily, he had to be a lot more careful.

Especially with your nitpicking everything he does.

“Why do you cut your bread like that?”

“Ew, your butter is so hard.”

“Can you stop chewing so loud?’

“Why does your face look like that?-- Oh, hi Wonnie!”

“Hi, [Name]!”

It seemed like Wonnie and you got along better. 

“Hey, where are you going?” you asked from the kitchen table.

Jay, who was putting on his coat and shoes at the door, made a face. Swinging his backpack over his shoulders, he took Wonnie’s hand. “What do you think we’re doing?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you answered matter-of-factly. “Class doesn’t start until nine though!”

Jay pointed to Wonnie. “Gotta take him to school.”

That was only partially the truth. He did indeed take Wonnie to elementary school, but like every morning, he went on a morning patrol. The amount of small robberies and little school children walking into traffic was a bit staggering, but not to worry, Spider-Man was on his way.

Like right now.

As Jay swung from building to building, he carefully scanned the alleyways and streets to possibly catch any crime. When he stopped to rest atop a mix-use flower shop, crouching in his iconic pose, he spotted two children and a man.

Jay’s enhanced senses allowed him to hear the conversation-

“Let go!” one of the children pleaded, pulling away from the man. The other child, clearly the younger one, confusedly held onto the other.

“Kids, kids!” the man chuckled, continuing his tightened grip. “Just come with me. I’m your parents’ friend!”

The older of the two scrunched her nose, continuing to resist the man.

Jay observed from above. Clearly, these children had no idea who this man was. By the looks of it, there wasn’t anyone else around. Even if the kids screamed, no one would come to the rescue quick enough. This weird kidnapper guy could definitely take these kids without a doubt.

Cue the screaming and crying.

Panicked, the man tightened his grip on the kids, jerking them along as he began to walk towards the alleyway.

Fuckin’ creep, Jay thought before shooting a white web at the lampost a few meters down the pavement, swinging down. Extending a leg, he held onto the web as he suspended across the air. As he closed in on the man, he heard the two children let out shrill gasps just as Jay's foot made impact with the man’s cheek.

The brief moment of surprise made the man loosen his grip on the two children, allowing for them to scurry back. Now on the ground, Jay stood over his fallen figure.

Disgusting, he thought as he peered down at the man. Just thinking about what he would have done to the children made him angry. The man groaned in pain. Jay leaned down to the man, bringing a masked, yet somehow patronizing, face to him.

“Hey, buddy!” His words were ordinary, but very clearly filled with contempt. “Whatcha doin’ over there with those kids?”

When the man didn’t answer, Jay stamped a foot right between the man’s legs, impossibly close to his crotch. “C’mon, man. Wontcha explain?”

The panic in the man’s eyes was satisfying, as he began to draw out a pocket knife. 

“S-Spider-Man?!”

Under his mask, Jay cracked a smirk. “Honored to be at your service.”

The man ogled at Spider-Man’s built figure– he stood no chance against the hero. Regardless, he stumbled to his feet, pointing the blade at Jay. “Stay back!”

Jay laughed.

“Oh no! A knife! Anything but the knife!” Jay feigned fear, cowering into himself. “I’m so scared! Please! My biggest weakness is a tiny little knife!”

The man faltered, staring hesitantly at the hero. Jay took this moment to shoot one more web at the street light, giving him momentum to jump in and kick this guy in the face again.

“Oh, man,” Jay chuckled. “That knife really got me.”

“I-I’m sorry!” The man gawked at the hero’s figure standing over him, spluttering as he struggled to his feet and finally scuttling away.

Jay watched his running back carefully.

“Thank you so much, Spider-Man!” he heard the children cheering behind him. Turning over his shoulder, Jay gave them a salute, before shooting a web and swinging away.

When classes for the day ended, Jay Park wanted a head-start on patrolling. The sun was only beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the city. He liked this time of day the most. There was always a faint citrusy smell in the air, and he wished he could take off his mask to feel the wind rake through his hair. 

He checked all the important places– the bank, the university, the bus station, and especially the central business district. The alleyways were crazy notorious for being crime-ridden, so he was extra attentive with the patrol. 

Speaking of, there seemed to be a bit of a conundrum right now. From the top of a high-rise building, Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the figures a few hundred feet below him. It was no uncommon occurrence for there to be some sort of assault (with Spider-Man here, attempted assault) in a dark alleyway. Jay always followed a basic procedure:

Step one: identify what’s happening.

From above, he could see that– oh shit– a woman was going to be mugged. 

Little did he know, much to both of your luck, that woman was you.

Step two: identify the threat.

Two guys, both disheveled, one with a pocket-knife. Even though he couldn’t see your face, just by the looks of it, you were clearly disadvantaged– these two guys were massive compared to you.

“We see ya wallet, girl,” one of the men said. For two people who were very much advantaged, they were rather shy with the knife, holding it low and with little confidence. “Hand ovah the money.”

When you didn’t respond, they got a little more vindictive, slamming the rusted brick wall, demanding for money.

Step three: swoop in and-

Jay was bewildered by the raucous clanking of metal trash can tops against the dirty pavement. Gaping down, he could see one of the men crashed up against the trash cans, and the other one taken aback. 

Did you just…?

Jay was taken by surprise once again when he heard grunting and groaning in pain. You were kicking these men when they were down. With heeled shoes. And it was now that he finally noticed your physicality: [H/C] hair. Glasses. Big attitude. Oh my god, how did he not realize that it was you?

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you landed a kick at the crotch. Jay hissed in pain just at the sight of that. “Huh? You think you own this fuckin’ place?” Another kick. “Fuckin’ scum.”

Jay was contemplating whether or not he should go down there and give you– [Name]-fucking-[Last Name]– a hand. He was going to decide against it, when his spidey senses picked up the very crisp sound of a blade scraping across the pavement. While you were busy cussing out one of the assailants, you didn’t notice the way one of the men unsheathed the pocket-knife. 

Jay could see it— In a matter of seconds, the guy’d bare the blade and shank your right in the abdomen. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, tongue swiping right over his metal lip piercing.

“Hey, fuckface!” In one fell swoop, Jay landed a powerful punch to the blade-bearing assailant’s cheek, sending him flying down the alleyway. you let out a shriek. “Spider-Man?!”

It was weird to see you startled like this. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

In his defense, there was not a bone in his body that thought that you were gorgeous. It was simply a habit he took on when he assumed the role of Spider-Man. He said that to everyone.

The second assailant, the one that you had basically beat up with words, was still keeled against the trash cans, eyes widened and fearful of what the friendly neighborhood hero could do.

Jay leaned down to be at eye-level with the man. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

The man spluttered, and Jay sneered. The kick that the hero gave to the man square in the chest subsequently propelled him down the alleyway, joining his friend at the back. 

“Maybe don’t try to mug someone in broad daylight, bud.”

When Jay heard a few clanking sounds and groans of pain, he turned to you.

You were looking at him with large, shiny eyes, utterly consumed in admiration. Jay cringed at the silence that fell over the two of you. It wasn’t normal for there to be such a calm silence between him and you. If there wasn’t arguing, then there’d be an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere.

“I- Spider-Man…” you said, looking up at him through your glasses. The way that your eyes were practically glued to his masked face had Jay scrunching his nose. After a long silence of you just staring at him, you quickly avert your gaze, finding interest in your shoes instead. God, why were you getting so shy? Seeing the abashed expression on your face was like seeing a police officer get a parking ticket– so fucking out-of-character and just pure unnatural.

Jay wanted badly to make a jab at you, to say, “Hey, Jay Park just saved your sorry ass.” 

But he didn’t. 

Because that’s not what friendly neighborhood Spider-Mans do.

You bit your lip before glancing up at him. It was almost like you could feel his eyes questioning you from behind his mask, and once again, avert your gaze, pushing up your metal frames. 

It was now that Jay truly realized what was going on– Did you have a crush on Spider-Man?

You were acting really shy, and you were looking at him like he was some kind of god. 

The thought made him want to shrink into his own skin, but for some reason, it also made him grin. Grin a smug grin. Because now he had something to dangle over your head.

He didn’t have any sinister intentions other than the fact that he wanted an opportunity to be petty with you.

“Thank you, Spider-Man,” you finally blurted, that bashful look still casted on your face. 

Jesus Christ, the way you were acting soft-spoken and coy was so weird. 

He could do one of two things to fuck with you.

He could be extremely cold and distant, making you feel embarrassed. It would definitely be satisfying to see you panicked and flustered. But then again, Spider-Man’s job was to keep the city safe, not be mean to civilians. Even if said civilian was someone he couldn’t stand.

The second he could do was fluster you in a different kind of way: enthrall you with charm to mess with you. It was certainly a more ethical way to fuck with you, but Jay wasn’t sure if he’d be up for practically flirting with the person he hated more than anything else.

You shyly looked at him, expecting a response.

On second thought, he might be up for it.

He didn’t want to break you. Just fuck with that strong head of yours a little bit.

“Anything for you,” Jay took a step closer to you, just close enough that you would be taken aback, “Beautiful.”

Okay, maybe he should never do that again. Jay was not a lady-charmer. He had no game. There was a reason that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and it was because he could not flirt for shit. His skin was crawling with cringe– what he would do to have the ground open up and eat him whole because that shit was the worst thing he’s probably ever done.

His internal squirming was cut short when he saw the way your eyes widened a fraction, before letting a slight abashed curve settle on your lips. 

“Oh- I-” you lowered your head, your glasses laying on the very tip of your nose. 

“Thanks,” you stammered.

.

.

.

Now it was awkward.

What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No! What the fuck?

“I’m gonna go now,” Jay muttered. Extending his arm and aiming it at the top of the adjacent building, he prepared to shoot a web. However, he was stopped when you gently grabbed onto his bicep.

“Wait.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet, meek almost. “I-I don’t feel safe going home now.”

Jay blinked.

Jay Park never seemed to expect anything. 

For the second time ever, in the same week, he was carrying you across the sky to his own home.

This time, though, you were wide awake instead of black-out drunk.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you clung to him as he held onto your body tightly in the bridal-style. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be carrying a damsel in distress like this, but Jay never thought that he would be carrying you of all people. 

With you clinging so close to him, Jay could smell that sweet, citrusy scent again. He grimaced when he was once again reminded of the events that had transpired a few nights ago. Whenever he thought about it, Jay could almost feel his skin crawl, remembering the wet and sticky kisses placed on his skin.

Jay tried to ignore the way you stared at him so incredulously, wide and glinted as if he was some sort of idol.

As Jay approached the edge of the high-rise office building, he noticed you bracing yourself for the jump You’d been shutting your eyes tightly and letting out a little peep every time he’d jump across buildings.

Maybe he should try fucking with you right now.

Launching off his feet, Jay had propelled the two of you into the wide valley between office buildings. Usually, he’d shoot a web within a few milliseconds of just being the air. However, with you in his arms…

“S-Spider-Man…!” you squeezed his bicep. You were falling…! 

Jay was taking his sweet time with shooting another web, waiting for them to be just a few hundred meters from the bustling and traffic-filled road, giving you the illusion that you were about to topple to your death. 

“Spider-Man, we’re gonna–!”

When you were practically dangling over the cars, Jay shot a web up to the next building, hoisting you two up and away.

“What, you don’t trust me, Beautiful?” Jay got some sick satisfaction from shaking up the usually-controlled you. If he was Jay, he probably would have made a jab, say something like “I told you so,” but since he was Spider-Man he stuck to the flashy and charming persona that the hero built himself.

“I… I trust you, Spider-Man, just– Eep!” 

Jay threw his head back, laughing. It was funny when you got scared.

“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--”you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”

Jay gave your waist a squeeze. “I got you, Angel.”

It was weird to pull up to his own apartment and pretend that it wasn’t his.

“This your place?”

Jay was curious as to what you would say. He dropped you off on the balcony, before going into his iconic crouching pose on the thin metal railing.

You shook your head. “It’s my… friend’s. I’m staying with him because….”

You trailed off, before your eyes fluttered over to Jay’s masked face. “Hey, didn’t you fight some villain the other day?”

Oh.

Right.

The reason that you were even staying with him was because… Well, him.

Jay nodded slowly.

“Oh- Well, um,” you wrung your fingers. “My apartment, it got… Yeah.”

It was like you could sense the uneasiness behind the mask. 

For the heinous amount of crime-fighting that Jay did, he did feel a little bad for the amount of infrastructure that got ruined. It seemed like every other week there were glass shards strewn all across the streets. He couldn’t imagine the type of work that would go into rebuilding homes and infrastructure after so much damage.

That, he will take responsibility for.

He lowered his head. “Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry about that.”

A civilian is a civilian.

“No, no, no!” you said rather brusquely, almost in a hostile way, waving your hands in front of yourself. 

Ah, there it was. The [Name] that he knew.

When you realized your tone of voice, you quickly back-tracked, clearing your throat and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean- It’s okay, Spider-Man,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “You did what you had to do.”

If you knew his identity ,you wouldn't say that. You would probably file a lawsuit against him.

But he appreciated the sentiment.

“What’s your name, Pretty?” He needed you to formally introduce yourself so he could stop using those cheesy nicknames.

You smiled bashfully again. “[Name].”

“Then I’ll see you later,” Jay jumped to his feet, balancing on the metal railing. He looked over his shoulder, raising a hand up, “[Name].”

With that he began swinging away.

You blinked slowly, eyes trailing his slowly disappearing figure.

When he was out of your sight, your lips immediately broke out into a wide grin. Taking off your glasses, you used a hand to cover your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up and pull upward. 

Oh, you understood it now. Why everyone said Spider-Man was so charming.

Using both hands to cover your warm face, you let a few giggles out into your palms. 

God, Spider-Man was attractive.

Your momentary fluster was cut short when the screen door of the balcony slammed open.

“Are you gonna come in or….?”

You turned to look over your shoulder.

Jay Park. Always had to ruin everything, didn’t he?

You huffed, removing your hands from your face. “Yeah… Just, give me a second.”

“Okay.”

When you turned back, you failed to notice the smug grin plastered across Jay’s face.

You heard from many people that Jay Park had an issue with disappearing. You understood what they meant. In the classes that you shared with him (which was few because your majors were different but similar enough), he would be absent for a few days at a time. At parties, even if you didn't actively seek him out, you’d see him at the beginning and after a few minutes, he’d just completely vanish. Even at some get-togethers that your mutual friends hosted, you’d hear some people complain about Jay always needing to “go to his job.” 

Now that you, more or less, lived under the same roof as him, you understood to a whole other degree what people meant.

According to what his own friends said, Jay had a night internship, and according to his brother, he also had a day job. He didn’t show up to his classes some days, but you would see him in the morning before class alive and well, so he clearly wasn’t having health issues. How crazy was his schedule? You had friends in his major with jobs of their own, and they weren’t flaky in the way that Jay was.

Jay would be up early, completely disappear for the entire day, and come home late.

It was weird. 

Not that you cared.

You could care less what happened to him.

You just found it strange.

Like right now.

It was late at night. Finals were coming up soon, and you simply couldn’t sleep. 

See, Wonnie was normal. Wonnie had an ordinary, completely sane, schedule. In the morning, Jay would take him to school, and in the afternoon (you assumed that) Jay either picked him up or Wonnie walked home. Either way, the kid had a much more tangible daily schedule, yet his brother’s was the complete opposite. But it didn’t seem like Wonnie questioned anything either.

You saw Wonnie come in and out of rooms, heard him get a glass of milk, you even said good night to him. 

The yellow-white lights that illuminated the apartment were blinding now, wearing down your eyes to the point that they felt watery. There was a sort of morose feeling that set over you as you sat at the cold kitchen counter. From final exams to the fact that your apartment was under reconstruction to the fact that you were practically intruding on our greatest enemy’s home was frustrating.

It would be completely bitchy and ungrateful of you to not recognize the sort of generosity that Jay displayed toward you. You really, genuinely, truly, could not stand him. He was someone who constantly made your day worse, someone who you'd never been able to agree with for years, someone who went out of his way to bother you– and vice versa. It wasn’t like you had no idea why he’d try to help you: he might be a supervillain to you, but he was no monster. It was clear that you were on a “I-only-doing-this-because-it’s-courteous” basis, but even then, for him to give you his own bedroom was more than courteous.

You didn’t like it.

Of all people in the world, why did he have to be so… hospitable?

You didn’t like the fact that you felt so dependent and almost helpless. 

You must have sat at that kitchen counter for a good chunk of time, because the next time you really moved from your lethargic position was when there was a sudden bang against the window. Lost in thought, you violently jerked up, jumping to your feet.

Eyes quivering to the windows, which were blackened by the dark night sky, there was nothing there. 

Strange.

You had your tongue dig into the inside of your cheek, frozen in place. Just when you thought your mind was just playing games, another loud bang against the window resounded through the room, followed by a few jumbled curse words.

You weren’t exactly happy that the one time you would get robbed it would be in your enemy's house.

Shit.

Except, instead of a masked burglar comically dressed in black, someone completely unexpected bursted through the window.

Red and blue spandex suit, complete masked-over face, and that unmistakable spider icon.

“Spider-Man?!”

Oh.

My.

God.

Why was Spider-Man landing in Jay Park’s apartment at this time?

And when you looked down at what you were wearing– a thin tank-top and pajama shorts–you suddenly became a lot more alarmed and self-conscious than you initially were.

“[Name]?” Spider-Man gaped. Except instead of that friendly and playful tone he was known for, it sounded sour. “What are you doing up at this time?”

You, who was now very consciously covering yourself up, gawked. “I’m– I was studying– What are you doing here, Spider-Man?”

“What do you mean? This is my ho–” Spider-Man stopped himself, before clearing his throat. Like a switch had been flipped, the hero began again, “I’m, um, stopping by to see my friend.”

You blinked.

“Y’know, Jay Park– dark hair, lip-piercing, super handsome and cool.”

Your nose scrunched at the description.

“I didn’t know you lived with him, Beautiful,” Spider-Man continued. “You said you lived with a friend, right?”

You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I wouldn’t say friend. We’re like, acquaintances… by association.”

“You don’t sound like you like ‘em very much, yeah, Gorgeous?”

You weren’t about to lambaste Jay Park in front of Spider-man, who was apparently his friend. That would be discourteous, and you weren’t about to flame the guy that was letting you sleep in his house.

“He’s…” You didn’t want to make it seem like you were buddies, especially in front of Spider-Man. “He’s all right.”

Spider-Man was now inching toward you. “Just all right?”

You eyed the hero’s well-built figure as he came closer and closer to you, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. You felt even more shy and exposed when he very clearly lingered around the sight of your silhouette. The way his voice resounded throughout the room, slightly raspy from the yelling he must have done and low due to his exhaustion, sent a chill down your spine. 

“He’s okay,” you responded curtly. “How– How do you know him? How do you know Park?”

You could feel Spider-Man’s eyes on you even through his mask. 

“How do I know him?” Spider-Man crouched down next to your feet at the kitchen island, looking up at you. You could hear the grin in his voice. “He met me in senior year of high school.”

Oh wow. They’ve known each other for a while.

“A spider bit him, or something,” the masked hero continued. “And I found him all sick and sad when his uncle passed.”

That’s right. In senior year of high school, Jay’s uncle, the person who took on a father figure after his parents unfortunately passed. It had taken a toll on him at the time. You remembered passing him in the hallways, seeing the messy black hair overgrown over his brows and dark eye bags. The one person that you regularly debated in AP Macro was no longer interested. At the time, you had contemplated whether or not to reach out to him, but he’d completely shut everyone out.

“That’s great,” you murmured. No matter how much you didn’t like him, it didn’t mean that he should lose someone important to him. “That’s great that he had someone there for him. I remember–”

Spider-Man looked up at you.

“I remember– I tried to talk to him about it once, in… I think it was in Stats?” you recounted. Your lips pressed together before forming a slight curve. “He yelled at me.”

“He yelled at you?”

You almost laughed. “Yeah, he did. Oh man, we never got along in high school– even now– but… It’s not nice to lose someone you love, is it?”

Spider-Man stared at you silently, before quickly agreeing– “Yeah, it isn’t.”

You bit your lip as you recounted. “I wanted to comfort him, but I don’t think he wanted me of all people to do that. At least I tried.” Your eyes fluttered over to Spider-Man. “I’m glad he had someone like you to be there for him.”

Spider-Man didn’t speak.

“Are you and Park close?” you asked.

“Yeah, we are.”

You hummed. “Oh. Do you see each other a lot?”

“Everyday.”

.

.

.

Spider-Man got to his feet.

“[Name], do you want to go on an adventure with me?”

Sometimes you thought you were stupid. Not all the time because you knew you were smart, but some time like now, where you allowed a masked man who may or may have not broken into your enemy's apartment claiming to be his friend to take you around the city at night. And you did it without even telling anyone, so if you got killed in an alleyway no one would know.

Not to worry, though.

Jay Park thought he was pretty stupid, too.

Staying out late at night right before finals week and completely forgetting about the workaholic nerd freak that lived with him temporarily (you). And to make it worse, he mentioned his own civilian self!-- and he obviously couldn’t be in two places at once. 

He needed a way to deflect.

“Wooooh!” Jay hooted as he swung from building to building.

“Spider-Man– Slow down…!”

Unlike the last two times he’d taken you out on some sort of aerial excursion, you had your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his neck and torso, hugging him from the back instead of Jay holding you bridal-style. 

It was nice for a change. For the first time, you were hanging off his back instead of being directly held by him. Jay couldn’t help the snicker that he let out when you would squeeze him and squeal in his ear out of fear.

“I thought ya said you trusted me,” he beamed. Jay could feel the way your face pressed into his back as you dangled in the sky. “C’mon, Gorgeous, don’t get all scared on me now.”

“It’s not fair- Eep!”

“What’s not fair, hm?” He shot another web. You didn't respond, opting to squeeze him harder. “What’s not fair, [Name]?”

“This!” you chided in his ear. “You-You’re not scared because you do this every day!”

“Well, maybe you should do this more then.”

To Jay, it was really weird to carry a frightened you around. He never took you for the clingy type, but maybe there’s a lot he didn’t know about you. It was especially weird when he was Spider-Man, because you were oddly nice to him. When he’s Jay, there’s no denying that you’re hostile.

“Why are you so nervous?” Jay sneered when you two landed on top of the central clock tower. You’d sat down at the top, letting the cool late-Spring night hit you. For someone notorious for their crazy confidence, it was absurd to see such a person all feeble and fiddling with their fingers.

 “It’s just finals,” you mumbled.

Jay nearly laughed. “Wow, you really are a nerdo freak.”

Your cheeks visibly heated up, folding your arms over your chest. “Hey! I’m not a nerdo fre–” You stopped yourself, before you brought your eyes up to the hero. “Did he tell you that?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “W-What?”

“Park is the only person that calls me ‘nerdo freak,’” you frowned, raising up your fingers to make air-quotes. “He’s been calling me that since highschool.”

Oh.

Shit.

“Y-Yeah,” the man responded, sucking in a shallow breath. “He talks to me about you a lot.”

Not true. 

Jay Park doesn’t talk to Spider-Man about anything. 

Because they’re the same person.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip. “Really? What does he say about me?”

Oh, this would be awkward.

“Jay thinks you’re really… Uhm…”

There’s two things Jay could do. Tell you his (Jay’s) honest thoughts about you as Spider-Man and effectively make the entire atmosphere both now and at home awkward. Though, it wouldn’t be much of a loss because he (Jay) already made it loud and clear how he felt about you through his words and actions toward you. It would only be awkward because he as Spider-Man was the one expressing it.

The second thing he could do was lie.

“He thinks you’re hot as fuck.”

Oh my fucking god what was he doing.

“Oh… uh… Really?”

Jay wanted to kill himself.

Of all things he could have said, he said thats?– Oh my god, and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat– What does he do?

Jay Park was not attracted to you and he will never be! Never! Ever!

It was the first thing that came to his mind! He doesn’t mean it! Jay Park hates you! He thinks you’re ugly and- Well, actually, that’s not true. You’re a very pretty woman, he did indeed get crazy butterflies the night of the soccer mixer, and he did catch himself staring at you a few times, because let’s be honest, the tiny tank-top and pajama shorts looked good as fuck on you– but still-!

“Did he tell you that… or…?”

“Yeah, that’s a direct quote.”

Jay Park! What are you doing?

part 2 here

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #park jongseong #park jay #jay x reader #jay enhypen x reader #jay fluff #star-sim #vanya-writes #enhypen smut #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong x reader

[spiderwcd]

sense | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x medium ! f ! reader

summary: colby meets a new medium for their video, but he didn't expect to have a crush on her 

w.c.: 5.4k

warning(s): talk about paranormal, creepy activity, a lil steamy moment

a/n:  like sleep tight, the hauntings are made up and the story line does not exist. i do want to add that, i suck at writing a lot of like investigative stories so please don’t judge me. also I had requests for this type of story, ironically I was already working on it so hope you guys enjoy it

images from pinterest !

"Is anyone gonna join us?" Colby asked, packing his camera into his bag. 

"Actually, yeah, some girl that Celina referred from the home town," Sam replied. "She's supposed to be a medium." He added. 

The two guys finally we're going to investigate the infamous orphanage that is supposedly haunted by the spirits of the children that died. They had finally done the research and were ready to go investigate. 

"Cool, what's this girl's name?" Colby inquired. 

"Uhm, I think it's y/n?" Sam stopped to think, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I texted her this morning letting her know we're going to catch a flight there, she's our ride." Sam chuckled, putting away his phone into his pocket. 

Colby let the name sit in his brain for a little, hoping to remember it later. It wasn't long before they were on their flight there. It was quite a while, editing and looking over their notes. 

When they landed, Sam kept searching for her face and Colby totally lost who they were supposed to look for. Sam's eyes soon lit up, recognizing her in the crowd. He waved at her, bringing her attention towards them. 

Colby finally noticed who they looked for, catching a glimpse of her. He felt his body heat up, flustered at her beauty. She was gorgeous, her hair running down her shoulders and her smile radiating through the crowds of people passing, he was surprised he didn't notice her earlier. She'd look like your typical medium, having a great style in all black, wearing an oversized band shirt, black sleeves underneath that hung over her jeans. 

"Hey guys!" Y/n greeted them, hugging Sam then moving over to Colby.

Colby felt his heart flutter and couldn't help but take her scent in, practically intoxicating. As she pulled away from her embrace, Colby couldn't help but feel disappointed. She offered them a smile and a hand with their luggage, but they declined the help. 

They moved their things into her car, ready for the trip over to their hotel. On the way there, she played music that practically matched Colby's taste. He felt as if he found his soulmate then and there. 

Sam kept asking her about herself and getting to know her. 

"So tell me, what type of medium are you?" Sam wondered. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." 

"It's okay, I like answering these, well, it's weird but I sorta have different types of abilities," Y/n began, steering the wheel. "I can let spirits communicate through me, so I'll channel them into my consciousness, letting them talk." She answered. 

"Other abilities? like what?" Colby asked, curious as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Well, I'm sure you have other mediums with my ability to see beyond what you guys can see," Y/n chuckled, amused at their curiosity. "I sort of have a heightened sense and I can see actual spirits walking around and hear whispers." 

"You know, I think you're the only medium we met who can just surrender themselves to let spirits talk through them." Sam chuckled. 

"Oh well I don't do it often, only with spirits I trust." Y/n added. 

As she finished her sentence, they had finally made their way to their hotel. It didn't take long before the three of them were inside the room, talking about random stuff. Colby couldn't help but watch her as she laughed and moved around the room. 

"What's so interesting about Nebraska?" Sam joked, starting a conversation. 

"If i'm being honest," Y/n sighed. "Nothing." She laughed. 

"Oh, that's great," Sam laughed back. "I don't want to get into the video already, but tell me, why is Nebraska so significant with orphanages?" He continued, pulling out his camera and beginning to record. 

"Well, do you guys know about the Orphan Train Movement?" She asked, leaning back on the bed she sat on. 

"No, never really heard of it." Colby replied, shaking his head. 

"Well, Nebraska is like the center of all the railways, so in the 1850's all the way until the 1920's, people would send orphans on the train from like the crowded East Coast cities into the midwest, mostly Nebraska," Y/n explained. "So, we used to have a lot of orphanages just like Haven Orphanage." She continued. 

"Really? that's really interesting." Sam commented, facing the camera towards her. 

"Yeah, again I don't really have much knowledge about it but that's what I know," Y/n corrected. "Hopefully the guide will explain it better." 

Y/n decided it's best if she lets them settle in, letting her also collect herself and prepare for their investigation. she said her goodbyes before leaving. She had to admit, she had a crush on Colby for a while. But she didn't want to feed her delusions and say he felt the same, telling herself he was probably being friendly. 

When she had left, Sam turned over to colby. 

"You so have a crush on her." Sam laughed. 

Colby turned red, covering his face, "Shut up." He muttered. 

"Hey, I just never seen you so quiet around a girl," Sam admitted. "Come on, you gonna make a move?" Sam enticed him.

Colby sighed for a second, looking at his best friend, "I-i don't know, she's only being nice, I don't want to embarrass myself and get rejected." 

"Really? Colby Brock getting rejected? Haven't seen that happen yet." Sam teased. 

Colby rolled his eyes, playfully. "Whatever, let’s just focus on this investigation for now." he averted the subject. 

Sam just gave him a look, as if it wasn't over just yet. He agreed to his friend's idea, pulling out his notes and taking more notes. 

Six o'clock came a lot earlier than they hoped, making their way to the orphanage. As they pulled into the building, they noticed y/n already waiting out front for them. Colby felt his heart beat a bit faster seeing her there. He examined her outfit and her demeanor, admiring her. 

They began making their way up towards the front doors, seeing the guide also there. It didn't take long for y/n to turn around and notice them, putting a smile on her face and her heart to melt a bit seeing colby. 

"What's up guys?" Y/n offered them a smile. "I was just talking to Morgan here about the building." She pointed towards the other woman. 

They greeted their guide, offering a warm greeting. They all introduced themselves, joking and laughing a bit. 

"Well, are you guys ready for the tour?" Morgan asked them. 

"Yeah, for sure lead the way." Sam nodded, following her. 

"Well this building was built in 1863, it was originally an orphanage named Haven Orphanage for Moved or Unwanted children," Morgan started, pointing towards the building. "It's said to be haunted, due to cruel conditions like overcrowding and shortage of supplies. The government didn't really want to pay for any orphanages, unfortunately causing it to be absolute hell for the children and staff." She continued, clasping her hands together. 

"Yeah, off the bat I already feel like some negative energy," Y/n motioned with her hands towards the building. "Like I feel a negative spirit lurking." 

"Yeah, so that you're feeling is Ruby," Morgan clarified. "She was one of the staff, she was very cruel to the children and it's rumored she sold her soul to the devil for the place to keep standing, but unfortunately she passed away from unknown causes." She continued. 

Everyone looked around, widened eyes painted on their faces. 

"Wow, okay so more demons." Sam chuckled.

"Well, it's not all bad energy," Morgan stopped him. "There's a lot of children spirits in here, they're rather playful and kind. But they do like to mess with you so don't get too scared from it." She added. 

"Wait, why am I kinda excited," y/n replied, covering her smile. "I never talked to children's spirits before." She admitted. 

"Well, it'll be a new experience for everyone then." Morgan chuckled, "Shall we start the tour then?" She suggested. 

The group agreed, making their way into the building. Immediately everyone looked around the place, noticing the different decor and admiring the ceilings. 

"So, as you can see, the building has a lot of character to it," Morgan pointed out. "But don't be fooled, there are a lot of dark corners of this building." 

Aas they went deeper into the hallway, they looked around seeing the admission office and different classrooms. 

"This was the classrooms, they would attend school here but the staff wasn't very kind," Morgan began. "A lot of the staff would use punishments that were unorthodox, like paddling which was spanking with a wooden paddle." She added. 

Colby looked over to Sam, "Maybe I should be punished." He whispered, causing y/n and Sam to laugh a bit. 

They soon wandered up the stairs, examining the stained glass on their way up. Y/n smiled as her eyes traveled around the beautiful structure, while Colby couldn’t help but watch her move and how beautiful she was. 

When they made their way up, they noticed the many bedrooms with bunk beds. As y/n began following the guide, she heard a loud metallic thump in one of the rooms. She jumped a bit, surprised by the sound. Unexpectedly, she jumped back into Colby's arms, causing her to become embarrassed. 

Colby's hands were wrapped around her for a moment before y/n, releasing her when she cleared her throat and looked down flustered. “Sorry, that just scared the shit out of me.” She muttered, placing a hand on her chest. 

“That's probably Billy,” Morgan mentioned, pointing towards one of the darkened rooms. “He likes to mess with tourists, he’s a prankster but he’s harmless.” She added. 

Y/n couldn't help but notice a small figure move out of her eyeline, causing her to swing her head towards the room. The guys followed her swift movements, examining the dark room. 

"Did you see something?" Colby asked her, looking back at her. 

Y/n tried focusing her eyes into the darkness, but nothing came up, "Could've sworn I saw something..." She whispered. 

As Sam pointed the camera towards the darkness, he zoomed into the room. "Well we definitely have to come back here for something," he commented. 

As they continued making their way further into the building, Colby couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful at every angle, he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. Y/n noticed his gaze, being a medium and all, and turned to him. Colby quickly averted his gaze off her, flustered yet again and awkwardly kept walking. 

Y/n blushes as well, trying to rationalize. She cleared her throat as she began making her way towards one of the bedrooms. 

"This was one of the girls' rooms," Morgan explained, pointing towards the different bedsheets of muted pinks and purples. "This doesn't have much activity besides a little girl who likes to sing from time to time, she's a rather sweet ghost." 

"Sam, this one should be your favorite," Colby teases, mentioning the Sallie house. 

Sam laughs, facing his friend, "I think I'm okay without another attachment." 

They all exchanged laughs as they averted their attention towards the sudden faint sounds of footsteps, followed by the rocking chair in the corner slowly creaking as it rocked back and forth. 

They went silent, looking at each other and back at the scene. But the chair just ceases its movements. 

"Okay, what the actual fuck." Colby whispered, covering his mouth in shock. 

Y/n felt a cold touch travel down her arm, as if someone swiped her arm. She looked around, trying to find the source. She felt a faint whisper in her ear, a name. 

"That was the little girl, her name is Beth if you would like to talk to her." Morgan suggested.

Y/n's jaw flew down, realizing what the name was. "You're kidding," she gasped. "I literally heard like a whisper or something with that name." She announced, crossing her arms as she felt the cold begin to engulf her. 

Sam and Colby turned to her, eyes widened in surprise. 

"Oh my god, maybe Beth wants to talk or something?" Sam considered, pointing the camera towards her direction. 

Y/n nodding, agreeing. She had experiences like this, but never this strong. She felt like her body was vibrating and buzzing with the constant movements and voices. 

"Are you okay?" Colby asked, furrowing his brows as he noticed her body shake. 

Y/n nodded slightly, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yeah just there's so much happening right now, I keep hearing different types of voices and seeing figures around the corner of my eye." She mentioned. 

Colby's eyes washed over with concern, having the need to protect her. "Did you want to take a break or anything?" He asked her, worry coated in his voice. 

Y/n smiled at his empathy, "I'll be okay, just my body is buzzing a bit, but thank you." She breathed out, flustered at his concern. 

Before they knew it, they had made their way to the darkest part of the building. The basement was where supposedly a lot of the children died from cruel punishments, creating a lot of angry spirits. 

"Okay, so before we make our way around," Morgan began, turning back to the group of people. "There is a lot of negative energy here, they will try to hurt you. People always leave here with scratches and even have been pushed off the stairs going to the basement." She warned. 

The group felt tense, nervous about what comes next. When they entered the dimly lit room, they could barely navigate through the dark basement as they stayed close to each other. 

Y/n heard something fall, causing her to jump forward and instinctively grab the person's hand. That person being Colby. She blushed as she realized who it was, clearing her throat and mumbling an apology. 

"It's okay," Colby assured, smiling but she couldn't see it. "You can hold my hand if you want, I'm sorta shitting bricks right now too." He chuckled, stretching out his hand to her. 

She felt her heart skip a beat, hesitantly reaching for his hand. As she grabbed onto his hand, she felt her body rush with electricity. Y/n was glad that the room was too dark to see her flustered face. 

"Alright guys," Morgan sighed, stopping under a lightbulb. "This was where most of the children actually died." She mentioned. 

Y/n felt a wave of sadness coarse through her body, her lip beginning to quiver. Colby looked over to her, seeing the glisten of her tears. 

"Hey, you okay?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with worry. 

"Y-Yeah, I just felt this wave of sadness," she sniffled in response. "like I feel them telling me something so horrible happened to them." She added. 

Colby felt sad to see her cry, wanting to wipe her tears away. Instead he gripped onto her hand firmly, reassuring her. 

Morgan nodded at her comment, "It was actually gruesome," she began. "The kids would be punished here, starved, even beaten. A lot of that resulted in death." 

Everyone in the group frowned, so much remorse for the poor children's lives that were lost. 

"But," Morgan cut in. "Like I mentioned before, there is an adult spirit who haunts here, Ruby. It's rumored she was murdered down here or the other theory was she was pushed out of one of the windows." 

They thought for a moment, feeling a cold chill rush through them causing them to shiver for a bit. 

"Did you guys feel that?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards them, ignoring their grasp on each other. 

The two nodded, their eyes darting throughout the basement. 

"Man, I don't like the vibe I'm getting here." Y/n whispered, trying to inch closer to Colby. 

Colby agreed, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer to his body. He felt so protective of her, wanting her to be safe. 

"Yeah, we don't want to be down here for too long," Morgan began making her way back to the exit. "People get seriously hurt here." She added, sternly. 

Y/n's eyes widened, looking up at Colby. He looked back once he noticed her glance and smiled as he guided her towards the exit. 

Once they exited the creepy basement, y/n let go as she thought Colby wouldn't want Sam to see their hold, causing Colby to become disappointed. 

Morgan led the group towards the front of the building, Y/n walking alongside with her as Sam and Colby hung behind them. 

"Dude, I saw you guys down there," Sam smirked, grabbing Colby's attention. "You know, holding hands," He teased. 

Colby rolled his eyes as he flustered at his best friend's teasing, "So what?" He murmured. 

"Admit it, you like her, don't you?" Sam asked, wiggling his brows slightly. 

This only caused Colby to get more embarrassed, looking away from his best friend. 

Sam only chuckled, reaching the doors to the building as they parted ways with Morgan. They thanked her, offering her farewells, and advice. 

As soon as Morgan left, the group looked at each other. Y/n tried to avoid her gaze on Colby, not wanting to seem desperate for his attention. 

"Alright, I think we should use the spirit box," Sam began, rummaging through his bag. "And I have some toys that might interest the kids." Sam added as he pulled out various children's toys and the infamous Alice box. 

"Okay, sounds good." Colby agreed, nodding with the plan. 

Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out something she heard in the building. She figured it was nothing, brushing it off slightly. They began making their way back towards the doors they just exited, seeing the dark hallways stretch down. 

Y/n froze for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Soon, she started making her way towards the two who had already made it halfway down the hallway as they discussed plans. 

She tried to catch up to them, but stopped when she saw it. She stopped at the intersection of hallways, staring down the much larger hallway. 

Colby looked behind him, seeing y/n stuck in a trance like state. He made his way back to her, nudging her to see what's wrong. 

"Y-You guys don't see it don't you?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the other side of the barren hallway. 

Colby and Sam looked over to where she was staring, unable to locate the problem. 

"No, Y/n we only see the hallway." Colby shook his head, worry creeping into his skin. 

As Sam tried to begin his sentence, Y/n quickly cut him off. 

"Holy fuck, that thing just moved." Y/n whispered, her hands shaking a bit. 

"What? What did you see?" Sam asked, looking around the hallway. 

Y/n turned to the two, her eyes widened slightly. 

"Okay, as I was about to make my way towards you guys," y/n explained. "I stopped because I heard this whisper, almost telling me to come over here kinda. So I look down the hallway and I see this fucking thing, it was like tall and black and clothed with some weird black clothes, it kept staring at me even when you guys came over. Then it grinned and walked away." She elaborated, her voice beginning to shake as she covered her mouth a bit with her shaking hand. 

Sam and Colby look at each other for a moment, worried. 

"Yeah, okay so already a lot of shit is happening." Sam sighed, feeling a pressure build up in his chest. 

Colby nodded, licking his lips as he began to speak, "let's just get this investigation over with so we can leave," he suggested. "Are you okay to keep going?" He asked Y/n, his brows furrowed. 

Y/n nodded her head, exhaling a deep breath out. "Yeah, just that freaked me out but i'm sure it's nothing." She convinced herself. 

With that, the three made their way to one of the bedrooms, trying to contact one of the nicer spirits. 

"Okay guys, so we have the new Alice box," Sam pointed the camera to the machine. "It's like a spirit box, reading through channels and frequencies so the spirits talk through it." He explained. 

Y/n looked around the room a bit, examining the surroundings well. Colby couldn't help but stare at her face, watching as her eyes darted around. Y/n looked over to Colby's glance and Colby smiled a bit, causing her to blush yet again. She's lost track of how many times she caught him doing things that she keeps reading into. Clearly he's being friendly, but really how friendly?

"Okay let's ask some questions for the little girls that stay in this room." Sam began, clasping his hands after he turned on the small device.

"...hello?..." 

A female voice rang throughout the room, the echo bouncing off the walls. Y/n furrowed her brows, pulling out her notebook as she began to scribble words that came up in her mind. 

She stopped at the word, she looked down and thought of it for a moment. She noticed something, a pair of eyes on her notebook. But it wasn't a spirit, just colby snooping. She smiled a bit, turning her notebook over to Colby. 

He looked at her then lined the pieces of paper with the random ink on letters and drawings. As he read the words, suddenly the Alice box answered. 

"...chair..."

Colby's jaw hung open, looking over to Sam and the paper. Y/n's actions mimicking his. 

"Dude," y/n gasped, displaying her notebook to Sam and the camera. "I wrote that not even 2 minutes earlier, Colby saw it too." She explained. 

Sam’s mouth hung open a bit, shocked. "No fucking way." 

But before they could say anything else, the Alice box spoke again. 

"...girl..." 

"I mean, this is the girl's room." Y/n explained. The two guys nodded, still confused what the spirits are trying to say. 

"...man... hallway..." 

Y/n froze, goosebumps running down her body. "Oh my god, it's talking about that thing I saw." She whispered. 

"Do you know the thing that Y/n saw in that hallway?" Colby asked into the open air. 

The Alice box stayed silent for a moment, occasionally spewing random words that didn't make sense. But as they were about to turn it off, it spoke. 

"... can't say..." 

"Can't say? Why can't you say anything?" Y/n asked yet again, scribbling into her notebook. 

"...won't..." "...let us..." 

"He maybe has a hold on them," Sam suggested, rubbing his chin slightly. "It's possible it's a demon." He added. 

"...evil..." 

They looked at each other and didn't say anything for a moment, Y/n turning her notebook over to reveal the word written on the paper. evil. 

Then the rem pod near the door started going off, a chill running down Y/n's back as the room became cold.

"Okay, this is actually so freaky," Sam chuckled a bit, pointing the camera towards the door. "The rem pod went off after Y/n wrote evil AND the Alice box said evil." 

Y/n sat up, ears perking up a bit as she listened carefully to the air. "Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but the room went completely freezing, and I feel something negative in here." She blurted out. 

"Yeah, I feel the cold," Sam agreed. "Could it be that thing you saw earlier?" He inquired. 

Y/n shook her head, "No, that was like paralyzing fear," She noted. "This one.. it's just mad." She whispered out. 

Concern painted on Colby's expression, clearly reading her body language as uncomfortable. 

"Hey, maybe let's end it in this room," Colby proposed. "A lot more places to investigate." 

Sam nodded, reaching for the equipment as he turned it off. Y/n sat up, but quickly recoiled forward. Colby noticed it, confused. 

"You okay?" he asked, helping her stabilize herself. 

Y/n looked around as Colby held onto her arm. "Y-Yeah, just something pushed me," She answered. "like I was standing up, and I felt a shove on my upper back." 

The group quickly exited the room, making their way down to the basement. They were going to explore more of the place, but seeing how y/n kept being targeted clearly for her abilities they weren't comfortable making her go through it. 

The feeling of uneasiness returned, entering the frigid basement. The dim light still remained on, barely illuminating the space around them. 

"Alright guys, we're going to the basement," Sam mentioned into the camera, showing the dark room. "We're going to do the Estes method down here, Colby is going to do it today." he spun the camera towards Colby's direction, zooming into his face. 

"Wow, face of excitement right there." Y/n joked, causing Colby to break his monotone expression to light up with laughter. 

She felt her heart jump, hearing his laughter brightening her spirit up. She could listen to it all day if she could. Colby soon sat on the barren concrete floor, Y/n handing him the blindfold followed with the headphones. His hands brushing up against her, followed by a smirk on his face. 

She cleared her throat, backing away from him. 

"Alright Colby, can you hear us?" Sam asked, testing out the volume. Colby doesn't say anything, listening to the random static coming through the headphones. 

"Okay, whoever dwells in this basement, are you the supposed member of staff that passed away?" Sam questioned, awaiting Colby's answer. 

"Perhaps." Colby replied. 

"So it's a bit sassy." Y/n chuckled a bit followed by Sam's chuckles. 

"Well, is it true you did rituals to keep this place running?" Sam added. 

Colby stayed silent for a moment, trying to listen carefully to the voices ringing through. 

"Force." Colby blurted. "protect," he continued. 

They looked at each other, trying to decipher what was spoken. 

"What did you do to protect this building?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brows. 

"Colby." Colby said. "Crush." 

Sam looked over to y/n and smirked a bit, "I think it's speaking for you." 

Y/n smacked Sam playfully, a blush covering her face. 

"Kissing," Colby furrowed his brow under his mask. "Tree." 

Sam bursted into laughter, nearly dropping to the floor. Y/n covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Colby, still oblivious to what's happening, is still spewing out words. Sam tapped him, alerting him to pull out of his trance. 

Colby removed his blindfold, followed by the headphones. He noticed Sam's laughter and Y/n's embarrassed face behind her hands. 

"What? What happened?" Colby asked, curious why Sam was practically rolling on the floor. 

Sam calmed down, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “It said kiss and then tree,” Sam coughed a bit. “It was teasing you.” He pointed towards Colby. 

Colby's face became warm, blushing until his face was red, “Yeah real funny, Sam.” Colby muttered with a sigh. 

Y/n cleared her throat, cheeks still flaming hot. "Well, let's just continue what we came here for." Y/n grumbled, her arms folded on her chest. 

Sam wiped his eyes, cooling down from his laughter. "Wow, that was too good."

Sam began making his way towards the stairs, leaving Y/n and Colby behind his trail.

"Sorry about him." Colby let out with a sigh, rubbing his neck. 

Y/n smiled up at him slightly, "I-Its okay, I know he's just teasing." She blushed. 

Colby simply nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. It wasn't too long before they had explored the whole place, investigating where they could. But then the time to sleep in the actual building came, which y/n began overthinking about. She knew she agreed to sleep alone, but she was too scared after her encounter with that thing in the hallway. 

"Alright guys, it's time for us to split up and sleep in separate rooms," Sam urged. "We figured with the whole Y/n seeing the spirit in the hallway, we're going to sleep in rooms next to each other just to ensure safety." Sam explained. 

Y/n fiddled with her fingers slightly, anxiety beginning to heighten. She bit her lip as they began setting up camp in their rooms. She grabbed her sleeping bag, making their way towards one of the girl's rooms. her heart began beating against her chest as she sat on top of her sleeping bag, listening to every crack and noise around her. 

She rubbed her face, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. But then she heard a faint knocking on the window directly behind her. She just stared at the moonlight that illuminated through the glass in front of her. She quickly sat up, quickly walking towards the closed door. As she opened the door, Colby's chest pressed up against hers. She yelped as she got freighted by the unexpected visit. 

Y/n pressed her hand onto her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Holy shit Colby, you scared the fuck out of me!" She lightly slapped his chest. 

Colby chuckled a bit, trying to lighten up the mood, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep, plus I knew this was your first time staying alone in a haunted place so I wanted to keep you some company." He admitted. 

Y/n felt her heart softly flutter, touched by his gesture, "Yeah, I sorta kept hearing things, I was gonna go to you." She confessed. 

Colby smiled, glad she found comfort in his presence, "Mind if I sleep in the same room as you then?" He requested. 

"Not at all," Y/n quickly replied, walking back to her sleeping bag onto the floor. Colby followed, his pillow and sleeping bag in his hands. "I wonder if Sam is shitting himself alone." She chuckled as she hugged her knees close to her chest. 

Colby sat next to her as he laid out his temporary bed, chuckling at the comment, "He'll be fine," He waved off, "After he laughed at us,he can sleep by himself." 

Y/n laughed a bit, looking down towards the floor. Colby couldn't help but stare at her, admiring her features in the moonlight. She noticed his gaze, moving her attention back towards him. 

"W-What?" She asked him, confused. 

"Nothing," Colby shrugged. "You're just really beautiful." He whispered. 

She flustered as she looked away as her cheeks painted with a deep color, "Oh, stop it." She muttered, playing with her fingernails. 

Colby's fingers landed on her jaw, moving her to face back towards him. She looked up into his eyes, seeming to get pulled closer towards him. 

"Well, it's true," He added, but couldn't help but lean towards her lips as his eyes kept glancing to her eyes and back to her lips. "I couldn't stop staring at you all day," he revealed. 

She felt her body heat up, unknowingly pressing closer to him. "Well, maybe I knew," She replied, feeling his hand on top of hers. "Maybe I was staring too." 

With that, Colby's lips landed on her. She gladly accepted as her lips pieced together perfectly. Colby's hand laced with hers, like previously that night. He lightly held her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

But soon, Colby pulled away, leaving them panting as they rested each other's forehead on one another. Y/n couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, causing Colby to wonder. 

"What?" He wondered. 

"Nothing," She added, rubbing her thumb on his hand. "Just, there were at least three little girls in here giggling." She confessed. 

Colby let out a laugh, pulling away as he looked around the room, "Well, you guys should give us some space." He announced into the room. 

The next morning, the sun began to shine through their window. The rays of light hitting their eyes, causing their eyes to flutter open. Y/n was the first one to notice him, seeing his wide smile on his face. Sam pointed the camera at the two, giggling as he noticed her to wake up. 

Y/n looked over next to her, noticing the boy clung onto her as he laid onto her chest. She threw her pillow towards Sam, causing him to laugh loudly which woke up Colby. Colby rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the bright room. 

"What the-." Colby grumbled, looking up towards y/n's tired face. 

"Dude, how long have you guys been cuddling?" Sam exclaimed, putting away the camera. 

"Shut up sam." Colby muttered, his head landing onto his pillow. y/n sat up, covering her face. 

"Sam, it's too early for this, can you please leave us alone." Y/n groaned.

"Fine, fine I'll let you love birds be." Sam teased, wiggling his brows a bit before he shut the door behind him as he left. 

Y/n looked over to Colby who was laying on his side. She smiled a bit, still exhausted. He returned the smile, still amazed by her beauty. 

"Does this mean you'd go out with me? or do you already know that I was gonna ask you out?" He finally asked. 

Y/n chuckled dryly, "Colby, I’m a medium, not psychic," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But yes, I will go out with you."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #sam golbach #xplr

[screeching-bunny]

Hey! If I can stil request,

*pulls out menu*

Can I have the yandere ceo with a shopaholic darling?

Oh, and a side of headcanons?

Yandere! Ceo Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I’ll be starting with the Hcs first! Hope u don’t mind!!!

🌟 Yandere! Ceo is willing to buy you anything you want. Money is not an issue to him so use his credit card as much as you like! He definitely finds joy in giving you things that you like and is obsessed with the way your face lights up when you see something that you like. He’s definitely a people pleaser and can’t say no to your cute face. Even if you do end up running his credit cards, (which will be never), he’d happily accept this fact and gush at you. If anything, he probably gets offended when you don’t spend his money.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo has one priority and it’s you. There is nothing that this man wouldn’t do for you. He often spontaneously decides to book weekend getaways to unwind stress with you. You both have been around the entire world together and there is no place that you haven’t visited. His office in his company is practically filled with just photos of you and souvenirs of places that you’ve visited together. He gets so enraged when your photos either get damaged or lost. He’s so scary that even his employees are afraid to even step in his office in fear of accidentally damaging something.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo has no idea what boundaries are. What do you mean he can’t come into the bathroom while you're taking a shower? Don’t you know that he just wants to spend time with you? PLEASE LET HIM IN HE’S SO DESPERATE!!!! He loves being near you all the time and finds your presence to be very calming to him. Whenever he has to leave your side, he feels so mentally drained.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo relishes in the fact that you financially depend on him. It fills him with so much joy of how needed he is to you. He happily forks over millions of dollars to you and expects to be praised in some type of way. Feels a sense of pride whenever you do. There is a tiny bit of urgency in him that feels the need to have you validation and love. He’s the type of person to put your needs before his own.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo is extremely two faced. He always has a superficial mask when he engages with others besides you. Oftentimes he uses people for his own benefits and hardly even acknowledges others. If they have no way of being any use to him then why should he care about their well beings? He can hardly even remember the names of the people he’s working with nor does he even care about them. If they aren’t you then he won’t give an ounce of his attention to them. Most people you meet will tell you that he is an extremely charming man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. This is of course an obvious facade that he has built up over the years.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo financially ruins anyone he sees as a competitor for your love and affection. Money rules the world and he can easily turn anyone against them. Anyone you’ve shown even the slightest bit of romantic interest in has turned up homeless and unable to get a job. There was even a time where you thought you were cursed because all of your crushes ended up having so much financial debt. Like damn can you believe all of your crushes had their house foreclosed on them?!?!?!

🌟 Yandere! Ceo is definitely delusional and refuses to see that there is something wrong with his love for you. Even if he kidnaps you, he justifies it by saying that you’re better off in his mansion and the only reason that you're resisting is that you don’t realize all the good it’s doing for you. Wholeheartedly believes that the two of your are soulmates which is why he feels the need to be by your side 24/7. When he’s not he spies on you using security cameras. There is nothing that makes him feel better than knowing where you are at any given time.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo is an aggressive guy when you're involved in something. He hates the thought of you being with someone else and being happy with someone who isn’t him. Truly believes that there is no one good enough for you other than him. He’s a bit of a narcissist, often telling himself that there is no one as perfect as him in this world for you.There are definitely times where he treats you as someone who is naive and knows nothing about the world. He refuses to believe that you can have a single bad bone in your body and will fight to defend your name.

“Your honor, I know they ran over someone with their car but don’t you see that they were just in a bad mood at the time? I think it’s best if we just let them go”. He’d probably somehow still win this case by bribing the judge and the court.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo allows you to pick out the clothes that he wears for the day. No matter how goofy the outfit might look, he wears it with pride and struts like a model in it. Although he is an extremely busy man he always makes time to reserve room for you in his life. You are what his world revolves around, without you he would be nothing but an empty shell of a man. Your presence is something that never fails to brighten his day and enlighten him.

🌟 Yandere! Ceo would never do anything to hurt your mental wellbeing but would manipulate you enough so that you could fall right into his arms. What's that? You got rejected from your fifth job interview? It’s alright, why don’t you just come live with him instead? He has an abundant amount of money that most people could only dream of, and you’d never have to work a day in your life if you lived with him. Now what do you say? Won’t you stay with him forever?

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere ceo

[dcxdpdabbles]

Master Post

All the dabbles I have posted on my DC x DP account. Under a read more due to how long it is. Broken into three categories:

Multi-parts - Dabbles that have more than one part written.

One-shots- Dabbles with only one part written.

Requests- Dabbles written for the requests of readers. (Note: If a request is for a continuation of the other two categories, they will be filed in Milti-parts)

(Updated as of 02/10/2024: Master Post 2 has latest)

Multi-Parts

The Royal Consort: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The Bakery is a Front!...right?: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Child Support: Part 1, Part 2

Alfred's Boy: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The Adoptive Son: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Phantom's Number 1 fan: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Part 4

Passion for Fashion: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Danny and The Fan Blog: Part 1, part 2, Part 3

Congratulations! It's Triplets!: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Ghost King Summon dare: Part 1 , Part 2

The Dauntless Matchmaker: Part 1 Part 2

One-Shots

The Assistant: Part 1

The Ghost Trio's Food Trip: Part 1

Legal Compensation: Part 1

Love Among Fans: Part 1

Lex Luther's Youngest: Part 1

Misplace Baby: Part 1

The Infinite Realms Hobby Store: Part 1

Obsession Runs in the Family: Part 1

Farm Hand: Part 1

Vague Threats: Part 1

Game of Deadly Love: Part 1

Retired-Rouge: Part 1

The Real Blood Son: Part 1

The Kid of Candles: Part 1

Magic Older Brother: Part 1

Keep The God Kid Busy!: Part 1

Dog walker: Part 1

Clockwork's Cookbook: Part 1

Respawn and Relive: Part 1

The Summoning Conditions of the Ghost King: Part 1

Finders Keeper: Part 1

What's the rule again?: Part 1

The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord: Part 1

Big Fish in Gotham Pond: Part 1

Immunity system: part 1

Wrong Number: Part 1

Timeline Prevention Squad: Part 1

Requests

The Masters are Aliens: Part 1

Ghost Zone Read: Part 1

Red Hood's Snow: Part 1

Jason Sees Dead People: Part 1

Ghost Dad: Part 1

Wayne Manor Ghost: Part 1

The Siren of Iceberg Lounge: Part 1

Single Dad: Part 1

The Orginal: Part 1

The Ghost King's Fibs: Part 1

Red ParentHood: Part 1

Woo thy Butler My Lord: Part 1

Jason's Doll: Part 1

Double Vision: Part 1

Dealeyed Soulmates: Part 1

Rescue Mission: Part 1

Danny's Online Persona: Part 1

Practice makes perfect: Part 1

Alley Boyfriends: Part 1

Demon and Angel Brat: Part 1

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #mun speaks #Master post