#yet another fic i'll probably never finish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlightxsvt · 11 months

Text

Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles

#seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #kpop smut #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

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godslino · 4 days

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IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway.

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges.

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned.

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip.

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron.

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind.

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched.

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.”

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.”

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant.

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find.

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful.

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.”

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain.

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf.

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all.

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun.

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way.

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season.

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.”

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones.

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs.

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today.

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later.

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach.

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears.

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat.

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.”

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember.

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong.

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides.

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time.

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them.

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family.

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake.

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable.

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep.

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own.

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.”

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world.

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.”

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head.

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own.

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning.

“But I can’t.” you choked.

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you.

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair.

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend.

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night.

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles.

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?”

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you.

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.”

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.”

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?”

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going.

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking.

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?”

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater.

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder.

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin.

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others.

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it.

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub.

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear.

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias.

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by.

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm.

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating.

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this.

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting.

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view.

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers.

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance.

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything.

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does.

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible.

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused.

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away.

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes.

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust.

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile.

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench.

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul.

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?”

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!”

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back.

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with.

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate.

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him.

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt.

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest.

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.”

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set.

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays.

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight.

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets.

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat.

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh.

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face.

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further.

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine.

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out.

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything.

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat..

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him.

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm.

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics.

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot.

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points.

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?”

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home.

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true.

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin.

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick.

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life.

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him.

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home.

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways.

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover.

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip.

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand.

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual.

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet.

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass.

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon.

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no– I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment.

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.”

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair.

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I love you.” you say first this time.

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony.

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless.

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter.

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?”

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin.

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room.

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.

You nod, slowly.

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds.

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.”

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock.

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving.

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around.

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded.

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked.

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle.

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving.

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere.

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored.

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks.

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say.

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.”

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals.

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place.

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips.

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

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sansaorgana · 7 months

Text

— NEW MEMORIES

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — You're excited to celebrate holidays for the first time in a long time and you prepare the school for Christmas and Hanukkah but your husband's attitude differs, which leads to an argument. You accidentally reveal too soon that you're expecting, which ruins a surprise.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — As usual, Reader’s mutation is NOT specified. I checked online Hanukkah's date for 1973 and I hope it showed me right that it started December 19th, which means it would overlap with Christmas. I also tried not to specify if Reader would celebrate only Hanukkah with Erik or Christmas, too, so I hope it's not very exclusive, because I imagine that even if she is not a Christian or Jewish, she would still want to celebrate Hanukkah because of her husband. In this fic, Erik and Reader are both teachers at Xavier's School, probably after Days of Future Past happened but with less shitty ending for Erik 😂 I also wanted to write a part when the baby is born but I decided the time difference between the scenes would be too big so I'll just write another fic 😁

WARNINGS — mentions of parents' death (Reader's backstory is similar to Jean Grey's)

WORD COUNT — 2,220

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

NEW MEMORIES

December has never been your favourite time of the year. Most of the time it was a reminder that you weren’t normal, that your life wasn’t usual and that whatever all these people in Christmas commercials had was out of your reach.

But in 1973, for the first time in your life, you were actually excited. And since Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was open again, you had plenty of people to share your excitement with. Lots of students volunteered to help you with decorating the place for the upcoming Christmas and Hanukkah celebrations. That year was one of those when the two of them overlapped.

After all your classes on Friday, you worked on yet another room of the house with the help of a few students. When you finished it was almost ten pm so you told them goodnight and went straight to your bedroom. Erik was already there, reading a history book and making notes.

“What is it about?” you asked him with a smile as you began to take off your clothes. You were so tired that you decided to take a shower in the morning and now just change into pajamas.

“Napoleonic wars,” your husband answered without looking up. “I have a feeling he might have been one of us.”

“Aren’t we, like, a product of this century?” you asked and put a nightgown on. “Come on, it’s late, let’s go to sleep,” you stood behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“I’ve only just begun,” he explained. “I need these notes for Monday.”

When you managed to convince Erik to join you at school and teach history, he was unsure about it but he promised to give it a try. Just like you promised you would leave with him to live in peace somewhere else if he wouldn’t like the life at Charles’ school. But one semester later he was already very engaged in his work. Students respected him although you could see that they were also a bit scared of him, which was understandable.

“You’ve just begun?” you laughed a little.

“I was playing chess with Charles earlier,” Erik answered with a nod and hummed after underlining a line in the book.

“Is this why you’re so tense?” you asked as you slightly squeezed his stiff shoulders. “Did you lose?”

“I’m not tense,” he tried to shake you off.

“Talk to me, Erik. It’s not gonna work if you refuse to talk to me,” you reminded him sternly and he sighed before putting the pencil down and closing the book. “We need to be open about what is bothering us, you promised me we’d make it work this time,” you added.

“Yes, I know. But I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Erik turned his head around to look at your face. You took a step back and furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean, Erik?” you asked.

He hesitated before saying anything and a million of possible scenarios started to come up to your mind.

“You don’t like it here?” You inquired. “You want us to move out?”

“No, it’s not about that… But…” Erik swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in. “I don’t like what you’re currently doing. I’m sorry. I don’t want to take your happiness out of it.”

“What am I currently doing?” you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Christmas and Hanukkah preparations,” he explained and you blinked a few times as your brain needed to process that information.

“Wait, what?!” you raised your voice a little. You didn’t want to scold him for expressing his feelings but you just couldn’t understand his reaction. “We’re going to celebrate for the first time in such a long time, and what’s more important, we’re not gonna be alone in this. We have our friends and students here. For the first time December is a positive time of the year to me… to us,” you tried to explain your point of view nervously. Erik was only looking at you and blinking slowly, patiently waiting for you to finish. “But I don’t do it for myself. I mostly am doing it for you, Erik. I wanted you to be happy, too. I wanted you to enjoy something that had been taken away from you a long time ago.”

“It reminds me of Hanukkahs with my parents,” he finally spoke up and you pursed your lips for a moment before opening your mouth again.

“So you don’t want to ever celebrate again?” you asked to be sure.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head.

“Why can’t you let yourself be happy, why are you torturing yourself further? I don’t get it, I’m sorry,” you tried not to be irritated but you felt utterly disappointed. You sat on the edge of your bed and hid your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a killjoy.”

“Too late,” you murmured, fighting your tears back.

“I know that most of the students will be celebrating. I think I’ll just leave for a week somewhere. I have already discussed it with Charles and he said there are a few things I can do for him at that time,” Erik’s voice sounded casual like he was discussing business for you.

“You want to leave us during Christmas time?” you moved the hands off of your face and looked up at him angrily.

“(Y/N), please, I don’t want to fight about it…” Erik sighed. “Why can’t you just understand that I don’t want to…” he clenched his jaw and looked away. “I don’t want to create new memories like this because it would remove the ones I already have… with my mother.”

“And you think she wouldn’t want you to celebrate holidays with your new family? You don’t think she’d want you to be happy?” you stood up and looked down at him. You felt like a bitch but his explanation made you even angrier.

“I don’t know what she’d want because she’s dead!” He stood up and raised his voice.

“So, I won’t be able to celebrate ever?! Because you don’t want to create new memories?” you put your hands on your hips.

“I’m not forbidding you to celebrate.”

“I don’t want to celebrate without you, don’t you understand?!” you yelled and rolled your eyes. “And when our child is born, you won’t celebrate Hanukkah with them either?” you asked and then you closed your mouth quickly. Your anger made you reveal a few things too early.

“What child?” you could see Erik’s face becoming pale within a second. “(Y/N)?”

“It was supposed to be a Christmas surprise… But since you won’t even be here, I guess I can tell you now,” you shrugged your arms. “I’m pregnant,” you announced and turned around to avoid looking at his face. You were scared of his reaction.

You didn’t know how long it took him to finally do something. Was it a very long minute or was it ten minutes of a heavy silence between you two…?

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. Apologizing wasn’t his strong trait. You sensed him standing behind you and putting his hand on your shoulder shyly. You didn’t push him away but you didn’t lean back towards him as usual either. “For how long do you know?”

“Two weeks. It’s the second month,” you answered, your eyes focused on the wall in front of you as you tried to fight the tears back. “Are you even happy?” you dared to ask and your lower lip trembled because asking it out loud made your heart break.

You were trying to give him a normal life, to give him family and happiness, joy around Christmas time and all that. But he seemed to prefer to dwell on his past. You didn’t expect him to forget about his mother or about the pain, of course not. Your past wasn’t exactly pleasant either. But you wanted to be happy despite that, you wanted to have a family, you wanted a new start in life, another chance.

“Of course I am,” Erik answered and gently turned your body around so you would face him. However, you tried to avoid his eyes. “But I’m terrified,” he confessed.

“And you think I am not?” you looked up eventually as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. “I’m a monster, Erik. You think I’m not scared of hurting them by accident?” you asked.

When you were about twelve years old, you caused your parents’ death after having an argument with them. Your powers were out of control and you were locked in a mental institution for underage girls by people who didn’t understand that you weren’t crazy nor really dangerous. That was where you met the person who made you realize who you were and who was the only person there who wouldn’t treat you like a monster; although that was the word you could easily call him with. His name was Sebastian Shaw – but he introduced himself as Doctor John Smith. He was experimenting on you for a few years and although it had been a traumatic experience, you learnt how to control your mutation thanks to him. That was also how you met Erik – he found you not so long after you turned eighteen years old and left the institution. You started to work as a waitress and he was hunting for the man who had used your pain and suffering to perform experiments on you to deepen his knowledge about the various mutations. You decided to join Erik because your life didn’t seem to have any purpose anyway.

“You’re not a monster,” he sighed and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you. With one of his hands he held the back of your head and caressed your hair. “You were just a child and now you’re older, you can control your powers. You’re extraordinary,” he whispered the words of comfort and kissed your forehead. “I’m not scared about you hurting our baby, I would never. I trust you with my life,” he assured you and it was comforting to hear that.

“Creating new memories doesn’t wipe out the old ones,” you cried out and pressed your face deeper into his chest. “Believe me, I wish it worked this way. I wish I could forget. I begged Charles to make me forget but he refused to do it to me,” you confessed and Erik raised your chin to make you look at him again. He hadn’t known about that before.

“You haven’t told me that,” his face was full of pain and worry.

“It was when you were in jail. I begged Charles to remove all the pain, the memory of my parents, the memory of Shaw… Even you. I begged him to even remove you from my head. But he told me I wouldn’t be myself any longer. He was right and I hate that. I hate that what I am is made of pain and suffering,” you sniffled. “That’s why I want to make good memories so badly, do you understand? I want to celebrate with you like we never have before. I want to laugh and feel safe. Like I belong somewhere, surrounded with friends and students, with my husband by my side and my baby growing inside of me. Do you understand my point of view now, Erik?” you bit on your trembling lip.

“Yes, my liebling, I do,” he nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead and then the tip of your nose, which made you giggle through the tears, until eventually he pecked your lips.

“But I don’t want to force you either,” you sighed. Now, when all your emotions were finally out and you calmed yourself down, you decided there was no point in pushing him into something that would make him feel uncomfortable. “If you don’t want to celebrate, it’s alright. We both have our right to deal with whatever that has happened to us in our own ways. I’ll still have fun with all the rest, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.

“No, you were right. About me choosing to torture myself instead of allowing myself to enjoy my life,” Erik caressed your cheek and you cracked a smile. “And I can’t miss my child’s first Hanukkah either.”

“I want them to have a happy childhood,” you told him. “Like we never had.”

“I know. I do, too,” Erik placed his hand on your belly and caressed it gently, like it was made of glass. “I will protect them from everything, I promise. No human will hurt our baby.”

You smiled at him and cupped his face before leaning in to give him a proper kiss this time.

But you didn’t tell him that what you feared more than humans hurting your child was actually the child turning out to be perfectly normal. You were afraid that a man so prejudiced towards humans as your husband wouldn’t love his child fully if they weren’t a mutant. You couldn’t tell him that, though. You didn’t want to fight with him anymore that night. Instead, you just kissed him. After all, you’d still have a few years before you’d find out if the baby was a mutant or not.

MASTERLIST

#erik lehnsherr x reader #lilysfiction #magneto x reader

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seangelfish · 2 months

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I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME YEIII amh I could ask for headcanons for bae and kanata with a cute mc fem from the town who just arrived in the city therefore she doesn't know anything about paradox or hiphop or the city in general je but she is open to learning new things uvu that would be all ~ thank you

MEETING A NEWCOMER

Featured characters: Allen Sugasano, Hajun Yeon, Anne Faulkner, Kanata Yatonokami ♡ Tags: Headcanons but also a bulletpoint fic, mutual crush, casual romance, she/her pronouns, not really proofread! Not really sure what to write for Hajun, so I'm sorry if it's not up to standard! ♡ Word count: 1,895 ♡ Synopsis: You, a newcomer, was introduced into a city of hip hop. You didn't quite understand it, but you were eager to learn from the people around you.

You have moved here for university, not knowing what this city was actually known for. You just assumed it was any other ordinary city...

Allen, who was one of your fellow classmates at university was an odd one. He didn't look friendly so you didn't try socialising with him at first, but when you saw how he acted towards his friends, you decided to at least try.

You found out that he was just awkward. He greeted you in return when you introduced yourself, but his eyes started sparkling when you mentioned that you were new to the area. He asked whether you're into hip hop, but if you weren't, he had some recommendations for you to listen to.

"Is hip hop that big here?" you asked him curiously.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "There used to be this place called Club Paradox where..."

You listened to him ramble on and on about hip hop and these legends called 'Buraikan' who founded these so-called 'Phantom Lives.'

It was all a little confusing, but it had you intrigued. Because of this, the two of you had exchanged contact info so Allen would be able to send you his recommendations. When you were finished listening to them, you would text him your thoughts. Gradually, you started having a taste for hip hop that in your free time, you'd visit record shops looking for songs that you haven't heard of yet!

Allen was always so appreciative of how willing you were to indulge in his interests — in his life. He wanted to show you more about the city and about hip hop, but he also just wanted to spend more time with you.

"I also produce and write my own songs!" Allen said one day, hoping that would impress you. "Would you like to listen to them?"

"Seriously? That's so cool. Of course, I'd like to listen!"

"Alright, just meet me at the club! I'm performing there as BAE with Anne and Hajun."

"C-Club?"

"Oh, haven't you been to a club before? Then I'll accompany you before our performance starts. It'll be fun!"

Why not? you thought.

Allen picked you up before his performance and showed you around the club. It was an interesting yet fun experience, but what you found kind of weird was how he kept holding your hand throughout it all. You didn't think too much of it though. He was probably doing that in consideration of you, so you wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

"So yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it!" he said. "Will you be okay here? We're starting in ten minutes."

"Yes, I'll be fine," you replied. "I can't wait to see you perform!"

"Alright, see you later, (Y/N)!"

Watching him perform live was amazing. You finally understood why people here liked watching 'Phantom Lives.' They were incredible! You were so drawn into Allen's performance that you couldn't see anything else but him.

"Haha, how was it?" he asked you, panting.

"It was so cool!" you chirped. "And that was the song you wrote too? It was great!"

"Hahaha, thanks, (Y/N)!"

So whatever Allen did with hip hop, you were there too. You became closer to him than before that he no longer was a classmate to you, but someone even more special.

Just like everyone else, you were drawn to Hajun's prince-like charms, but you never dared to speak to him. He was definitely on another level than you, and you didn't want to disturb him with your plain, ordinary presence.

However, fate brought you together when Hajun spoke to you first. He picked up clues that you were new around here and wanted to help you familiarise yourself.

Confused but thankful, you accepted his offer. He was like a tour guide, bringing you in his limo around the city. It was kind of awkward at first, but he eased you into it when he would ask you where you came from and why you decided to move. He was friendly, but you could taste the way he teased you too.

After bringing you to so many places, Hajun had asked you if you knew about hip hop or anything to do with phantom lives. When you denied it, he merely chuckled and said that you should watch him perform. He didn't go further than that, so you had to find out yourself what he meant by it.

BAE was his hip hop group where they performed phantom lives at clubs. You entered by yourself, waiting for the show to begin. Hajun was up there on stage accompanied by Anne and Allen. Their performance was spectacular. The way Hajun rapped was something you didn't expect coming from him, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

"So you made it," he teased. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Y-Yes, it was good!" you exclaimed. "Those were the illusions you talked about? They were pretty! How were you able to do that?"

"With my phantometal, of course," he replied, showing you the feather ring on his finger. He let you touch it due to curiosity. "Isn't it cool~?"

"It is!" you giggled. "Can I watch you perform again next time?"

"Haha, sure."

Not only did Hajun help you with familiarising yourself with the city, but with university work too. You should be grateful though because he wasn't doing this for just anyone. However, he was also questioning his actions when he thought about it.

He supposed that he was helping you out so much because he was also in a similar position when he arrived in Japan. He just wanted to make your experience here easy for you.

Plus hanging out with someone cute like you was actually fun. He loved answering whatever questions you threw at him especially those relating to hip hop. He always looked forward to your daily greeting in person and text.

Anne had caught an interest to you almost immediately. Of course, it was because you were cute, but it was also because your outfits were embarrassingly plain. They wondered if you'd allow them to dress you up. So one day in class, they introduced themselves.

Once Anne took in the info that you were new here, they were even more excited to become your friend. They wanted to show you everything! Entertainment, fashion, music, everything you were interested in!

And that's how you were introduced to hip hop too.

Taking in the knowledge of the city from Anne was like homework. They dumped everything on you so quickly that it was hard to grasp, but as they pulled you around the city, it was always so exhilarating.

"Oh, I'm also a part of BAE," they said. "It's the hip hop unit I'm in with Allen and Hajun. We usually perform at clubs, but we're going to be competing in Paradox Live next!"

"P-Paradox Live?" you queried. You knew of phantom lives since Anne mentioned those before, but this was different.

"Yep, it's gonna be huge! We're going up against other hip hop units to win ten billion! You'll come support us, right?"

Of course you were.

But standing in front of Club Paradox was intimidating. Everyone around you looked excited out of their minds, but you were the opposite.

"(Y/N), over here!" called out Anne. As you turned, they linked your arm with theirs and led you inside with Allen and Hajun. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to leave you here," they continued. "But watch us closely, okay?"

Watching Anne perform that night was thrilling. Even when the rest of the units performed their songs, Anne's performance was something you couldn't shake off. The illusions that they described to you through words could not compare to the real thing.

After that, you would always watch Anne in person whenever they were performing with BAE in Paradox Live; cheering them on and voting for them. Anne would always look for you in the crowd too, happy that you appeared in their life.

Unlike BAE, you didn't meet Kanata at university. You bumped into him on the streets to university. You were lost and that's how you ended up at the slums. He thought you were an idiot, but he helped you out anyway.

You explained that you were new to the city, so you still didn't know your way around. Kanata was disinterested, but when you asked him why hip hop was so prevalent around here, his ears perked up.

He explained everything, but he also mentioned how there's 'real hip hop' and those who desire to make hip hop but fail. You were curious about what he meant by this, so you pressed him further into showing you what 'real hip hop' was.

He was about to refuse. He didn't really want to get close to you to begin with, but seeing that sparkle in your eye made him think otherwise. It also didn't help that you were kind of cute.

"Fine," he breathed. "When do you finish uni? I could show you today."

And so he did. After dropping you off at university, he picked you up straight after you were finished. It was evening by then, so the streets you walked on were crowded with people waiting for a team called 'Cozmez' to perform.

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you into some shady underground business, situating you in a corner where he was sure nobody could disturb you.

"Just stay here," he said. "You'll be okay."

"W-Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm performing."

Before you could say anything else, he grinned. "You'll see what real hip hop is, (Y/N)."

And he was gone. You noticed that he was with someone else too, someone that looked oddly similar to him that you just knew he was his brother. When they were on stage, the crowd cheered louder than before.

That's when Kanata started rapping. You watched him intently, your eyes following his every movement, his every word. The music was loud, but it was exciting.

"So this is a 'phantom live'..." you murmured to yourself as you watched the illusions the twins were creating. "It's beautiful..."

You didn't expect Kanata to come back to you right after performing, but he did, asking you what you thought of it. You caught the slight bit of excitement in his question which also surprised you because even if you had just met him today, you already had his character noted down in the back of your mind. He was rude and aggressive, but he was also kind in a way.

You smiled. "It was awesome! I can't believe this is what I was missing out on!" you replied. "You were amazing, Kanata!"

His cheeks heated up, but you couldn't tell as it was dim. "Thanks," he said casually.

"Eh~ who's this?" asked his twin. "Kanata, I didn't think you were that type of person–"

"I-It's nothing like that!"

Nayuta introduced himself because if his brother was willing enough to bring a random girl to a place like this, he was sure that Kanata was a little interested in you.

"Be good to my brother, okay?" he whispered into your ear teasingly.

From then on, you became close to the Yatonokami twins, but you were even closer to Kanata, the boy who helped you on your first day. He became a lot more patient with you as he introduced you to even more places around the city, familiarising yourself with hip hop and the story behind it. It was always so fun learning more things when it was with Kanata.

And perhaps, Kanata was a little thankful that you got lost in the slums that day too.

Intro page | Paradox Live masterlist | Request rules

#paradox live #paralive #paradox live x reader #paralive x reader #bae x reader #cozmez x reader #allen sugasano x reader #hajun yeon x reader #anne faulkner x reader #kanata yatonokami x reader #x reader #x y/n #fanfic #fic #paralive imagines #paradox live imagines #paradox live headcanons #paralive headcanons

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love-hatred-stuff · 10 months

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》 hey, hi~ here's a draft that I wrote instead of continuing other fics that I wanted to write, lmao I hate myself :')

》 Eddie Brock(Venom) x (f)Reader

⚠ a little warning; age gap (10y), daddy issues here we goooo, just a tiny bit spice and some sprinkle de dinkle ★angst★

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Eddie hadn't had sex in what felt like centuries. Actually just one or two years but who's counting when all he can do is use his hand and Venom mostly doesn't even let him finish. That monster doesn't give shit about it, he claims that Eddie wouldn't need it. He needs food and water but not a jerk off.

Well if he knew why he'd been going on it so much lately, maybe Venom would let him, but he's not ready to give that up yet. It's probably the only thing about Eddie, Venom hasn't completely figured out yet.

It was you. You were the reason he was slowly but surely losing the mind he shared with the compatible slimy alien inside of him.

•••

"Eddie thanks for checking, but I can manage." You told him on the other line of the phone.

Eddie just wanted to help you pack and carry your things since you were moving to another apartment. You've been able to get promoted again and now you were at the very top of the not even so small company you've been working at for about five years now. You could say you were pretty good at your job.

"I habe plenty of strong people here, helping me out. I don't even have to carry anything, I just decide were the furniture and boxes are getting placed. You don't need to worry, darling."

Eddie had a smirk dancing on his lips. You knew he could do everything they were doing, at least twice as fast.

"I should come over later then. I'll bring dinner." He suggested.

"Great idea. But don't let Venom choose take out again, please Eddie." Ugh the way you were saying his name made his brain go blank and suddenly Venom was hyperaware of what was going on.

"Promise. See ya." He immediately ended the call, leaving you a little confused. Ed could sense what Venom felt, just beneath the surface.

"Holy Shit!!!" Venom growled.

"You kidding me? She's the reason you've been going to the gym and eating healthy now? Why you've been completely desperate to stroke your dumbass dick?" Then he laughed. Finding it hilarious that Eddie was in love again. After his last woman, Anne, he'd been taking a while to open up again. Actually he didn't talk to any other woman besides you.

The thing was just, that you were ten years younger than him and he'd practically seen you grow up. Of course he never saw you the way he does now, back then. But it was quite bad how hard he had fallen for you in the last few months.

"I KNOW! She's too young for me. I'll keep my distance, okay? It wasn’t my intention to develop feelings." He tried defending himself.

"As if I cared, you nasty human. Get you dick wet if that's what you need." The symbiot snarled.

Eddie was surprised, to say the least.

"You're not gonna disturb us?" He asked in suspicion.

"Thought you wanted to keep your distance? Not anymore? Kidding. Do what you gotta do. Since you're my host I gotta let you have at least one thing."

"That'd be great." He smiled to himself.

"Now get your ass up at get her something nice, if you wanna get inside her pants."

"I don't wanna get inside her pants! Well- maybe a little, but I care about her more than that."

Eddie sensed, by Venom's silence, that he doesn't wanna get involved in his love life any further. Although he couldn't blame Eddie, you were gorgeous little human. A young one at that.

So he showered and grabbed his keys, so he could get dinner and some flowers. He was a little nervous buying these, because he knew that would be the first romantic move he's ever made on you. You probably only saw him as like an uncle or something, nothing more. Knowing his luck, he didn't even expect you to like him back.

He would know soon.

•••

Well, but who knew, he's gonna find himself underneath you instead?

Eddie was sitting on the couch, the only thing that wasn't completely packed with stuff and boxes. You were straddling him, taking his breath away with the way you moved your skilled tounge against his. He was a little hesitant though, barely touching your hips with his hands because he didn't know were to put them. He wanted so badly to grip your sides tight and push you closer against his crotch.

But he was unsure. Even though you clearly gave him all the signs that you wanted this, he felt like he was using you. Venom's earlier words spiralling in his mind; '-if you wanna get inside her pants.' No! He didn't! He wanted so much more than that. So it felt wrong to just jump you the moment you said you liked him back- well you didn't really say anything, you just smiled to yourself as you accepted his flowers and began to stalk towards him, until this moment, where you plastered him with marks and kisses.

Despite all those doubts, he felt heavenly, holding most of his sounds back, almost impossible. You were a woman with so many strengths, kissing and grinding being apparently one of them. Glad, he found out.

He only realised seconds later that you'd stopped and were looking straight at him.

"What's wrong?" Your worried look scratched at his heart instantly.

"Nothing." He lied.

He was a good liar. But you weren't buying it, you knew him well enough.

"You don't want this? You should've said so, Brock."

Ugh, another pang shooting through him stronger than he'd expected. The usage of his last name? Nah. You only did that when you were seconds away from switching your emotions. You were gonna tell him to piss off and stay away from you, until you forgave him, unless he would tell you the truth right f*cking now. He knew because he'd disappointed you once before. That was a complete different scenario, and now you felt personally attacked. He could feel it, even Venom could.

"No! I really really want this! Or else I wouldn't have told you what I did earlier. It's just, that it feels wrong touching you, with my hands."

Oh. No.

He just made it worse, didn't he? Judging by the way your face went blank, his speech definitely went sideways.

"Get lost." You were pointing to your door with your finger, giving him a stern look.

He felt like a little scared kid again, being scolded by his mom. Only ten times worse.

"What? No! I'm saying this because I'm so much older than you, y/n! I swear on my mother and the symbiot living inside of me that I've been craving you for the longest time now. I love you, god damn it! But I shouldn't and I know that, alright? But I can't help it. I'm sorry if I send you the wrong signals. I'm just worried that people will take you away from me, because of that." Eddie stood up and slowly walked towards you, trying to not make you even more uncomfortable than he already had.

You looked a little more relaxed now though.

"So you denied me because you feel a little perverted? God, Eddie you're not a grandpa and I'm a grown woman with a good life ahead of her. Do you think I would throw that away for a forbidden romance? You and I are perfectly okay to be with each other. Nothing's gonna happen, it's only ten years, Brock." Eddie flinched again at the end. Seemed like he had to soothe you a little more.

"Could you please stop addressing me with my last name, it scares me a little. I get it now. I'm sorry for worrying so much, sweetness." Eddie gently touched your cheek, caressing it and putting a strand of hair behind you ear.

"You have a lot of making up to do, you grandpa." You glanced up at him, allowing a tiny smile to dance on your cherry lips.

-----

To be continued...?

Love, love, love

~ love-hatred-stuff ♡

#eddie brock #eddie x reader #we are venom #marvel imagine #eddie brock x reader #daddy issues

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wildlife4life · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @diazsdimples @thewolvesof1998 and @theotherbuckley Thank you so much! I'm super excited for all your upcoming works!

Going to be honest, the biggest reason I have been working on NFL Buck so much is because my favorite team (Kansas City Chiefs) has been doing very well in the playoffs. So fair warning, if they don't make it to the Super Bowl after this Sunday, writing for that fic will probably taper off and I'll switch to another. But until then, here is another snippet from NFL Buck and I'm hopping back to the end of the dosed arc. (All things NFL Buck can be found here)

Eddie gives him a nod of encouragement and Buck takes a deep breath, then releases it along with the majority of his nerves. He turns his full attention to Athena, her head still cocked with curiosity and her eyes gleaming with intrigue. Buck saw no hint of malice and with a squeeze to his hand from Eddie, his tongue finally loosened, "Eddie and I met when I was still in college. He was one of the paramedics on hand when I was knocked unconscious by a cheap shot from an Aggy. When I came to, Eddie was hovering above me and I literally thought he was an angle." Buck chuckles, remembering the moment his eyes opened and seeing the most beautiful man with the softest brown eyes surrounded by a halo of lights. "That was the concussion." Eddie snarks, but Buck can see the light blush on his boyfriend's cheeks from the corner of his vision. After all these years and Eddie still gets flustered by Buck's enamored compliments. "Well despite the head injury, I had a very hard time forgetting him and I tracked his fine ass down at our next home game. Asked him to dinner, and besides a few bumps along the way, here we are almost ten years later." Buck finishes and flashes a small smile towards Eddie, who returns it.

"And you've kept your relationship hidden all this time?" Athena questions sounding mildly impressed, but also a little sad. Buck deflates slightly, he always does when the whole secret part of his and Eddie's relationship is brought up. "We had to, or I had to. By the time Eddie came into my life, I had put in so much work and sacrifice to be where I was. I had dreamed of playing in the NFL since I was little and football was my greatest love at the time. But I also knew that the world I wanted to be apart of wasn't the most accepting of those who don't fit in the typical heteronormative box. Being an open bi-sexual man would lessen my opportunities and could have put my mental and physical health at risk. So I stayed closeted." "Yet you made the decision to pursue a same sex relationship." He gives the police sergeant a wistful smile, "The moment I met Eddie, I felt this amazing connection and then after our first non-date date, I knew I couldn't let him go, football career be damned." Buck looks over at the man who's held his heart since he walked though Red's door, "Eddie is the one person I know will always have my back and he knows I will always have his. He has never made me choose between my childhood dream and my future ones with him and Christopher." Eddie's warm brown eyes soften through Buck's declaration and the gleam of his adoration only brightens. The hand intertwined with Buck's squeezes three times and Buck squeezes back with the same iteration. Hidden I love you's that have no lesser value than visible one's. "I don't want Buck to lose one of the biggest parts of who he is because of bigots. And I don't see hiding our relationship as a sacrifice. Loving Buck isn't a hardship and part of that love is wanting to see him happy. Playing in the NFL makes him happy. Being with me and Christopher makes him happy. He makes me happy. A few lies and secretes aren't going to diminish that." Eddie states his gaze unwavering on Buck and his chest fills tender warmth at Eddie's proclamation.

Their relationship may be a secret but its real and true. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @hippolotamus @devirnis @jesuisici33 @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @try-set-me-on-fire @fortheloveofbuddie @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @disasterbuckdiaz @bekkachaos @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley

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wonwoonlight · 1 year

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there’s not a single star in the sky | xu minghao & kim mingyu

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader // not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 12k

➝ notes, warnings: my sorry attempt of an angst <//3, it doesn't end badly i promise, curses, food, mentions of death, OC is trying to hold back her tears for like.. 80% of the fic, probably some grammatical errors and typos, not beta-ed D: i purposefully write some stuff vaguely. that's it, tell me if there's more!

➝ summary: he’s your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he’s not the one you’re going to spend your forever with?

or, alternatively:

Minghao was there to fill the space Mingyu left behind; but you'd never expected to what extent he was meant to do it for.

➝ A/N: it's late and i didn't mean this to be your bday fic but.. happy bday hao!! i'll shut up and say more at the end. pls enjoy and tell me what you thought!!

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건 the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마 is probably because it has traces of you [Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

When you first met Minghao, he was there to be your roommate.

It's been months since Mingyu left, almost a year, really, and as much as it still hurts and the thought wells up tears in your eyes, Jeonghan is right when he said it's time you need to pick up the pieces broken by the love of your life.

–the first step being moving out of the place you had bought together with him. Saying it hurts is starting to get repetitive at this point, but it really does and you have no idea how many times you’ve broken down crying the more you pack, your eyes red beyond measure and your chest physically aches that it’s hard to breathe.

The apartment is practically empty except for the furniture, nothing inside screams you or Mingyu anymore except for one single photograph and it sends you into a spiral of sadness that you can’t comprehend how to handle. Your eyes wander to the empty wall on top of the TV, already rid of photographs Mingyu had taken and decided to frame because “angel, this is a masterpiece!” like he didn’t say it everytime he decided to frame more pictures and hang them on the walls (mostly of you both together).

You close your eyes and exhale a deep breath at the memories, hating the way your lips still tremble at the thought of him, then gently wipe the tears lining up your eyes before they turn into yet another waterfall.

There’s only one big picture left on the wall, a photograph of a daffodil field you both had gone to two years ago and is easily the most beautiful place you’ve ever stepped your feet on. You insisted that the picture stays though Jeonghan said it’d be better to take everything down. But as much as you know his memories hurt you, you don’t want to erase him just because you’re struggling; that picture is the one Mingyu loved the most and you think it’s only right to let it be.

So it can guard your home once you’re no longer there.

Kim Mingyu is still the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in your life and you want to keep his memories with you no matter what.

“When is your cousin moving in?” Jeonghan asks as you put the last of your belongings. Most of your stuff is already in your new place, and while you couldn’t bear to sell the apartment, you heard from your mom that your cousin is looking for a place in your area because she’s starting university soon; so she’s going to move in and rent your place at least until she finishes her study.

You’re not that close with her, but know her well enough to know that she’s nice and isn’t the type to mess around. Which is good, because if you’re close with her then you’d be finding reasons to visit just to be in the apartment. This way, you know your place will be in good hands and, for now, that’s the only thing you can ask for.

“In two weeks. She’ll start moving her stuff next week though.” It’s weird to be talking about someone else living in a place where your love bloomed, but it’s really for the best and you understand that it’s getting more unhealthy for you if you continue your way of living the way you do. Even one year is already pushing it.

“You’re still moving tomorrow though, right?” your best friend nudges you, and you nod as you try to shrug the weight lingering on your chest. Your silence concerns him despite your nod, so Jeonghan takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“It’s okay, Han.” You smile weakly. As much as you want Jeonghan to hold you through the night because you know you’ll be crying, you want to spend your last night here by yourself. You want to cry one last time so you can let everything go. You want to bask in Mingyu’s memories, in his fading scent, and in the place where the love you shared with him grew the most.

And as you cry yourself to sleep that night in your empty bedroom, screaming for Mingyu’s name into your pillow again and again like it’d bring him back to you, you think you can feel his arms holding you once again the moment your consciousness gives up, almost like a dream you wish you never wake up from.

Your new roommate is perceptive and you’re not sure yet whether you like it or not.

“You look tired.” He smiles politely, though you can tell that the look in his eyes is closest to what you’d describe as pitiful.

Of course you look pitiful, you woke up with your head pounding due to your excessive crying the night before and you could barely open your eyes because of the very same reason.

“I was going to talk to you about rules and all that but I think that can wait.”

“Thank you,” you say without offering any reason, you don’t owe him any explanations anyway. “I just need some sleep though, can we talk about it later tonight?”

Minghao nods, the smile on his face so warm that your heart would probably skip a beat if not for your current predicament. You wince at the way your heart clenches, Mingyu’s name once again echoing in your head. Feeling heat creeping up against your neck, you reach up to touch the skin behind your ear, a habit you always do, something Mingyu teased you about since the time you went on your first date together.

Ah, fuck. You really should stop yourself from thinking about him too much.

“It must’ve been hard moving all that stuff. Have a good rest,” Minghao ushers you before you can say anything, which you thankfully nod at, and you immediately bolt to your new room before you embarrassingly cry in front of him out of nowhere.

You don’t need to know Minghao hears your cry because you didn’t close the door properly, his concerned eyes rooted to the floor as he closes the door for you, the soft click barely even a noise upon your heart silenced sobs.

It’s later that night that he sees you again, already fresh in new clothes and looking comparably better than earlier though your puffy eyes are a dead giveawa. Minghao has never been one to pry, but his heart is made to care for others and he’s trying hard not to ask if you’re okay, to pretend like the sound of you crying didn’t tug something in his heart.

Xu Minghao is born to care for those around him but he’s not sure why you crying hurts him this much when you’re practically a stranger renting the available room in his house.

“Want to order something?” He forces himself to say, wondering if he’s crossing any line; do you even have any intention to befriend him? He’s still not sure why you’re moving into his place, the most he has heard from you was you’re simply looking for a new environment, and Junhui, a mutual friend of the both of you, has only told him that you’re going through a lot so he might want to be careful overall.

When Minghao asks if there’s anything he should know out of concern, the older guy has simply said it’s not his story to tell and reminds him to be mindful if you’re ever visibly struggling in front of him.

“I was wondering what to eat for dinner. You can join me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, though.”

Unexpectedly, you send a soft smile his way with a nod, then make your way to sit on the single sofa next to him and hug the cushion on your lap. “Sure. What’s good around here?”

“Mmm. What do you feel like eating?” He turns to look at you, only to find your fingers playing with the skin near your ear as you purse your lips in thought. It’s the first time he has the chance to actually look at you, and he scolds himself for being a teenager when it pops into his mind how soft your skin looks followed by the question of how it’d feel under his touch.

“Anything’s fine except for pasta.”

“You don’t like pasta?”

“I do. I think they’re too heavy if we eat them now though.”

Minghao hums in agreement, but you say he can order whatever he feels like eating because you can eat just about anything as long as it’s not too creamy at the moment. “Surprise me,” you tell him, your voice a little too cheerful for someone who was crying a few hours ago. He tries to get it off his mind though, because it’s none of his business and you’re not even friends yet at this point.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him that much. Perhaps he’s been thinking about Junhui’s words too much, be careful and be mindful. As someone who’s used to catering to other’s feelings, Minghao finds it hard to stay still when he knows someone near him is struggling. It’s obvious from your body language though; the way you’re internally exhausted but are trying your best to look okay.

Maybe moving to his place is your first step to overcoming whatever you’re going through. Whatever it is, Minghao decides that’s where he should stop assuming and reminds himself once again that it’s none of his business.

“So,” he starts after ordering food. He figures he should at least talk about the house rules if there’s no other topic at hand. “I’m not very strict about rules, to be honest. Some of the rules I always tell people are just basic ones like: let me know if you’re going to have friends around, though I’m not too comfortable with anyone staying overnight, so just make sure to ask me first before you let anyone stay over; don’t be too loud; and let’s clean after ourselves? These apply to the both of us though, so I promise I’ll stand by them too.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod in agreement. He’s right. Those are basic rules, he’s just asking you to have manners and be aware that you’re living with someone else. But you can tell from his first impression alone that Minghao is the kinda person that’s considerate and proper. He didn’t ask for anything too personal when he first met you to talk about your possible coliving situation, and it was easy to tell that Minghao was just looking for someone that’s…, well, also proper.

He was just the right amount of friendly. You didn’t talk with him for that long that day, but you could tell that you both passed each other’s vibe check and you were glad when Minghao called a week later to say you’re welcome to move in anytime the month after if you’re still looking for a place to stay.

“I don’t have that many friends so you don’t have to worry.”

He chuckles at that, glad that you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. "We'll get along just fine then."

The silence after that is a bit awkward, though it's not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. You wonder if you're simply imagining Minghao's extra careful words and gestures or if he’s simply that type of person to begin with.

He does seem the type to be certain with his lines.

"You're home a lot, then?" He tries to stay on the housing topic, a very safe topic that hopefully wouldn't cross any line.

“Yeah. I really mostly go out when my friends invite me or if I want to take a walk, else I’m basically holed up in my room.” You shrug then return the question, though from the few times you dropped by the house when you moved your things over you can already tell that Minghao is about the same.

“Mmm. I enjoy both my time inside and outside,” he purses his lips in thoughts, a tilt of his head accompanying his words. “Depends on the day, I think. Sometimes I actively try to find places to try out, sometimes I’m happy to be in my studio and paint for the whole day.”

“You paint?” Your tone is more excited than you intend it to be, though it really makes sense because you notice there are a lot of paintings throughout the living room. And now you wonder if those are his own paintings, which Minghao shyly nods to, the sheepish smile on his face growing the more you sing praises to his talent. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to paint, you know? But my hands are not made for art so…”

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise.

Minghao brushes the mark near his collarbone, its jet black color reminding him of things he’d rather not remember anymore. It used to be so vibrant with color, then they bleed out at once one day, turning into such a dark black it contrasts against his skin.

There’s something else Junhui said that has been bothering him, something that he thinks is the main reason why he’s more attentive to you than anything.

‘I can’t say much. But if there’s anyone who understands her struggle, it might be you. Just… don’t push her, yeah?’

He’s not sure how close you are exactly with Junhui. But if the older guy is able to say that, he supposes you’re either closer than he’s assumed, or you’re related in more ways that he could imagine. You did find out he had an available room from Junhui.

It doesn’t feel right to go through yours or Junhui’s social media just for the sake of it. But, from what he remembers, you definitely don’t appear enough on Junhui’s account for you to be in his close circle. Plus, if you’re actually close, the older guy would’ve probably brought you to hang out with him a long time ago; Junhui likes to blend all of his friends, after all. So you’re probably a friend of a friend, or there’s a situation that Junhui happens to know.

Whatever it is, it bothers him. Are you struggling like he was?

Minghao bites his lip and grazes his soulmate mark again, why is he talking like he’s over it now? As much as he’s coping, said that he’s okay now because that's all he’s managed to be, he’s still far from acceptance.

He’s still far from making peace with it.

His eyes flicker to you again as you return and sit back down on the sofa. You force a perfect smile, one that would fool anyone into thinking you’re actually fine. Not him though, because if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s the emptiness in your eyes despite the way they turn into crescents. He’s practiced the same exact smile way too many times not to recognize it on others.

If there’s anything Minghao knows, it’s the eyes of people who are hurting.

And if there’s anything else he understands, it’s that they don’t always want to talk about it. That everyone hangs on differently and he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you cope and how you hurt.

So he does what he usually do: offer comfort in the subtlest way possible by change the topic.

“But, then again, it’s not for everyone,” he shrugs almost nonchalantly. If anyone else is in the room, he’s sure they would notice the way he’s blatantly staring at you in worry. But, fortunately for Minghao, there’s no one and you’re too busy calming yourself down to notice. “What do you do in your spare time?”

“Actually,” you shake your head like you’ve made a resolve, like you didn’t even hear his question. Your voice falters a little as you say your next words, but Minghao listens attentively as he pretends not to notice the quiver in your gaze. “I would like to try painting. I did it a long time ago but… maybe it’s time to try doing it again.”

“You sure?” he questions, something weird stirring in his heart at how determined you look. It’s most likely the romantic side in him; he’s always liked seeing people doing their best. There’s just something so beautiful about people who try, and he supposes it’s the fact that he knows the look in your eyes, recognizes a similar kind of pain reflected in them, then knowing that you’re doing your best to be okay again.

It’s almost like he’s seeing himself a few months back (has it really not been a year since he’s started to learn how to accept?), and while his heart warms at the fact that you’re trying, it makes him wonder if this was how people felt when they saw him before.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun,” you say vaguely, knowing that your tone itself sounds unsure. Still, you’re thankful that Minghao doesn’t say anything about it as he nods and says that he’d send you the address of a cafe that allows their customers to draw on a paper and turn the result into a keyring; that he thinks that would be casual enough for you to try and have fun because an actual painting studio might feel suffocating if you’re not into it

You falter at the mention of the familiar cafe, one that you haven’t gone to but remember Mingyu had mentioned before. You can probably still find its name and address somewhere on your phone, because Mingyu had insisted you make a list of places you should go together to, though you gave up updating it along the way

“It’s the one with a sloth mascot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you been?” Minghao bites his lip at the slight tremble of your lip, did he say something wrong again?

“No, actually.” You force a small smile, one that looks sad, if anything, and Minghao’s heart is so close to breaking that it’s almost stupid. Why is he so emotional today? You’re just his new roommate, for God’s sake. “But I… I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

A heavy silence envelopes the room after that; you, deep in your mind, and Minghao, unsure what to say. Considering Junhui’s words and the way he sees himself in you, he dares to jump into conclusion and wonders what could possibly happen to your soulmate for you to be this way; to be constantly in and out of your memory in the span of thirty minutes he’s been talking with you.

Did they leave you like his soulmate did? He winces at the thought of her, the urge to reach for his mark makes his fingers ball into fists. But he waves it away and, thankfully, the bell rings indicating the arrival of your food.

Fortunately, the food is enough distraction for you two. You hum in delight once Minghao opens the packaging of the food, the smell filling the room immediately that your stomach growls a little. You’re both more hungry than you thought also, because the food is gone faster than the time it takes to arrive, and the both of you wish each other good night after cleaning up.

You’re not exactly sleepy, but you’re mentally drained and you’re afraid at how many times you almost poured your struggle to Minghao. You don’t like crying in front of anyone but Jeonghan, don’t like the feeling of anyone looking at you in pity or even concern. You really don’t.

But there’s something about Xu Minghao that makes you feel okay about being vulnerable; something about him that makes you want to open your heart and serve all its content on a platter for him to see. Or perhaps you’re just more emotional because you’ve officially moved out of your place and it’s your first day in your new home.

You hope that’s really the case.

Because the first scenario scares you a little too much.

You don’t want to feel that way.

So you spend your night talking with Jeonghan until you fall asleep, talking about nothing and everything so you wouldn’t think of Mingyu or how easy it is to be off guard in front of Minghao.

You tell Jeonghan you want to go to the sloth cafe and he offers to come with you, his voice wavering when you mention you want to try painting.

You dream of Mingyu in front of an easel that night, painting a field of yellow flowers with a smile on his face and the stars in his eyes.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Minghao asks when he sees you all dressed up on the sofa, though the way you’re slumped against it makes him doubt his question. “Or did you just come back?”

You scrunch your nose at the question, then sit up and hug the cushion against your chest. “I meant to go to the sloth cafe today. But Jeonghan is suddenly called for a work emergency, so…”

The words come out before he thinks it thoroughly, and Minghao almost hits himself in the head once they escape his lips. “I can go with you if you want?”

Unexpectedly, your face lights up as your eyes meet his, making him a little taken aback at the enthusiasm.

You really do want to go there, but the thought of going there by yourself scares you a little but you know that if you don’t go now when you’ve made up your mind, you’ll push it back over and over again until eventually you decide you’d just not go.

“Will you, really?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind going with me.” Minghao shrugs. It’s too late to back out and he’s glad if he could help you one way or another. It’s been quite some time since he visited that cafe and he doesn’t have anything to do, anyway. At your nod, he asks again. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m free the whole day, if you don’t mind going today…” You trail off, feeling a little awkward if you’re being completely honest. It’s been two weeks since you’ve moved in, and while you’ve passed the awkward phase, you’re still not there yet when it comes to favors.

“Let me change real quick then.” He definitely didn’t expect you to say yes when he offered, but now that you’ve asked him… Might as well, right?

The ride to the cafe isn’t as awkward as you suppose it would be, the radio filling in the silence between the two of you when you’re not talking. Minghao asks if you have anything in mind you want to draw already, and you say you actually have no idea, that you want to see if there are any easy examples you can follow because you’re not gifted enough to draw anything by yourself.

“What about you?”

“Hmm… Any requests?”

You laugh at this, and then hum to yourself to see if there’s anything you’d like to see. For a second, you wonder if you’re crossing the line by asking him to draw for you in a way, but if it’s Minghao himself who asks, it should be okay, right?

“Flowers?” Your voice falters as you think of the last dream you have of Mingyu. Yellow flowers, wasn’t it?

You hear his smile before you see it, and when you turn to him curiously, Minghao offers you a nod and asks again if you have any flowers you prefer. But you don’t really know your flowers, so you tell him you want to see anything vibrant, that it’s up to him whatever flower exactly.

“Vibrant, huh?” You wonder if you imagined the slight curt in his tone, but Minghao nods once again and says he’ll see what he can do.

“You don’t have to, though!” You say, suddenly conscious that you’re making him draw something for you.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what to draw, anyway.” He grins to assure you, but you can tell that there’s something going on inside his head that you don’t dare to ask.

“Alright… But don’t feel bad if you want to draw something else, okay?” You manage to say, hoping that you don’t sound like you’re putting a distance between the two of you. Minghao changes the topic from then, and it’s not long until you find yourself arriving at the cafe.

It’s weird, what you’re feeling. You’re both afraid and excited, as art has always been something that you associate with Mingyu. You never do it with anyone else, or even by yourself, for that matter. Mingyu was the only reason you’re even interested in it, and you’re pretty sure you would never even try if it wasn’t for him.

And now you’re here. About to go to a cafe where you can draw at, a cafe you had promised Mingyu you’d go together with…

And now you’re here.

With someone else.

“Let’s go?” Minghao’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, something you’re incredibly thankful for because you’re just about to spiral into a hurricane of emotion otherwise.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting side by side with Minghao as the busy sound of the cafe fills the silence between you two. You straighten your back as you exhale a deep breath, the sound of it makes Minghao chuckle from beside you.

“What flower is that?” You glance at his drawing, intrigued by the amount of details Minghao pours into it despite not having any reference whatsoever. He’s drawing by memory, you assume, as you can’t see his phone anywhere near him, and now that you really look at his drawing, you think you’ve seen the flower before.

Minghao pauses before he answers you, his gaze fixated on the paper in front of him. “Forsythia.”

You hum as you take out your phone, looking up the flower to see pictures of them. It’s when you quietly mutter to yourself that Minghao turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees you admire the flowers.

“You know them?”

You shake your head, then close your phone and return to the paper in front of you. You’ve drawn nothing but the night sky, poorly drawn hills, and a few street lamps along the street. It’s nowhere near good drawing, but at least you can tell for sure that those objects are identifiable and that’s enough win for you.

Like going here trying to draw.

Like going here without shedding a tear even though your lips trembled when you step into the cafe.

That’s enough win for now.

“Can I ask something?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts, and when you nod, his voice is hesitant despite your okay. “Why… is it so dark?”

“What is?”

“Your drawing.”

Huh. Is it?

“Is there any reason you’re not drawing the moon or stars?”

You blink at the question, then look again at the night sky you’ve been drawing the past thirty minutes. The constellation mark behind your ear suddenly stings a little; have you come to hate astronomical objects so much that you end up drawing nothing but the sky without even realizing?

“It just… didn’t occur to me.” You offer him a small smile, your colored pencil hovering upon the night sky. “I can’t draw them now though, can I?”

He hums as he skims your drawing, then his eyes glance at the pack of colored pencils next to you.

“Yeah. It’d be hard to draw the moon because you’ve colored most of the night sky.” He nods and smiles your way, one that you return with a tilt of your head. “It’s okay though. It’s still pretty as it is. Some nights we can’t see the stars and the moon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, right?”

…Doesn’t really matter, huh? You bite your lip as you ponder over his words, your mark feels like it’s tingling behind your ear.

“Can I ask something too?” You say after some time, eyes still focused on the flower he’s drawing.

“Sure.”

“I notice there are a lot of flowers in your paintings back home. Is there a reason why you like painting flowers so much?” His movement pauses at your question, and, for a second, you wonder if you’re intruding. But Minghao answers before you can retract your question, his hand moves again to fill in the color in the petal.

“It’s my soulmate mark.” His tone is much too nonchalant for such a topic, but as much as Minghao can tell you’re hurting by the look of your eyes, you can also tell he’s hiding by the tightness in his voice.

It’s very subtle, but from your point of view, it can’t be anymore obvious that Minghao is also struggling, presumably about something along the same line as you. Soulmate isn’t a sensitive topic for most people, but now that you’ve seen him this way, you can tell at once that you both share the same reluctance towards the issue.

At least it’s also clear that he’s coping far better than you are. Whatever’s happened between him and his soulmate, you hope it’s not as bad as what befell you.

“You wouldn’t know which one though,” he jokes to divert the topic. It’s more for your sake than it is for him, you feel like. He probably knows you’re not sure what to comment on that.

“I’m sure they’re pretty either way.” You comment vaguely, suddenly itching to touch the constellation behind your ear. You hesitate before you continue, unsure if it’s okay to bring it up again, but you also feel bad and you let your feelings override yourself for once. “I’m sorry I made you draw flowers.”

Minghao completely stops at that, and even though you’re not sure what you were expecting, you surely didn’t expect amusement clouding his face when you meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry though?”

“Just felt like I needed to apologize.” You shrug, your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue. “Seems like it’s personal to you.”

“It’s fine. Like you said, I do paint a lot of flowers.” His smile is genuine, and you’re glad that he really does sound amused if anything.

Your conversation shifts from there, the two of you swift through light-hearted topics as you finish your drawings. You watch as the staff turn your drawing into an acrylic key ring, a happy smile on your face as you look at the result in your hand.

It’s definitely much better than you expected, and you think it’s good that you went with Minghao because, had it been Jeonghan, you would’ve cried thinking about Mingyu the whole time. You’re glad you went with your roommate, someone between a stranger and a friend, someone that you need to be careful with but close enough that it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yours is so pretty…” You mutter in fascination as you peek at Minghao’s, happy to take the key ring from him when he asks if you want to look closely.

“You can take it.” He says with the entirety of his heart, the grin on his face painted with pride. It’s one thing to have people sing praises to his work, but it’s another story altogether when he sees someone like you who looks at his creation like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. When you ask if he’s sure you can have it like it doesn’t make sense for him to just give it away, he chuckles and nods. “You look like you’d appreciate it. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you!” You clutch the keyring between your palms, telling him you’d take good care of it. “I’d offer you mine but…”

“I’ll take it.” He offers you his palm, and then chuckles some more when you ask again if he’s sure about his choice. “You doubt me a lot, huh?”

“It’s just… Mine isn’t as pretty though.” You scrunch your nose as you hand him your result. Yes, it’s better than you expected, but still…

“I saw how much effort you put into that.” He begins, his thumb caressing your keyring. “And I did say it looks pretty, no? I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

Whispering a small thank you, Minghao almost laughs at how shy you look at his compliment. He looks at the keyring again, a picture of street lamps beneath the night sky. Then his mind pictures your focused frown when you were drawing them, and then to the conversation he had with you almost two weeks ago about this very cafe; how you were holding back tears and how you had reacted when he brought up the cafe.

And now here you are, talking animatedly about how the experience has been much more fun than you expected it to be. And even though he did catch you spacing out from time to time, he notices how determined you are from the beginning. Determined to do what, he can only guess.

He thinks he’ll think of you now everytime he looks at the night sky.

He gazes at the keyring yet again, and then at you next to him.

He thinks he has never seen an effort so beautiful.

Mingyu loved seeing you with your hair up; a pony tail, a bun, anything that let him see your whole face and didn’t cover your soulmate mark if only a little. The location of your soulmate mark doesn’t really allow you a lot of hairstyles that won’t cover it, but if you have your hair up, you’d at least be able to see half of the constellation that stops just a little below your ear.

That said, you wear your hair down most of the time after he’s left, having developed a habit of hiding the black constellation scattered there. The most you’d do to your hair is to tie half of it, which doesn't happen a lot.

“I have a question.” Minghao says as he pours your empty glass of wine once again. Minghao was chilling by himself when you returned from the convenience store, and when you saw the wine bottle on the coffee table, you had been quick to ask if you could join his little routine.

“Shoot.” Undeniably, you’ve gotten closer with him the past few months. You hadn’t expected to find a friend when you first moved in, but Minghao clicks with you in ways you haven’t really clicked with others that you can easily say he’s one of your close friends now.

It’s different, what you have with him.

Jeonghan is your voice of reason as much as he is the devil’s advocate; he’d push and push and push but he also knows when to pull you back when necessary. He cares for you like a best friend and an older brother, having his own way to change between the two roles accordingly.

You’re not the closest with Lisa. She’s not the kind of friend you’d look for first when you need someone to talk to, but you only have good memories with her since high school and it’s always laughter filling your cheeks everytime you meet up with her. You trust her when it comes to it, and she’s a token of happy memories you keep in your life.

Mingyu… Mingyu is–was your soulmate. He understood you without you saying anything, he knew when to leave you alone and when to coax you into telling him what’s bothering you. He spoiled you like there’s no tomorrow, listened when your rambling didn’t make any sense, and held you in his arms on nights you didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’s loud with his affection, never hesitated to show you his love even though he knew you’re never insecure when it came to that.

But Minghao… he observes and hypothesizes. He’s calculated and he’s silent with his concern. He doesn’t always ask when he thinks something might be up, simply leaves you be and you’d find a cup of iced chocolate or an ice cream with a note that lets you know they belong to you the next day. He pretends he doesn’t know you’re crying even though you’re sure you look like a mess, he’d just ask if you want to eat something or if he should just order online.

You don’t have a lot of friends, but from the few that you have, Minghao is the most like you.

And now that you think about it, you somehow gravitate towards those much different that you are; people who are loud in the best way possible. Which is why your friendship with Minghao feels different in ways that you can’t really describe.

“Why do you never tie your hair?” You have expected Minghao to ask this question sooner, if you’re being honest, as you’re sure that he’s noticed this since before. You’ve caught him eyeing your long hair from time to time, mostly when you two are out and it’s hot outside while you stubbornly let your hair down for the sake of covering your ear.

“Does it bother you?” You ask while sipping on your wine. It’s your fourth glass already, and even though you’re not usually a fan of alcohol, there would be days like this when you just feel like letting loose and crave for some.

Minghao shakes his head and changes the song playing in the background, finding something softer than the jazz instrument he played earlier. It’s another lazy Saturday night for the two of you, and between liking to stay at home and your somewhat similar personality, it’s really not surprising how easy it was to be close to Minghao in the span of five months.

How could you not when the two of you almost always spend your days together, even more your weekends? Jeonghan would join you from time to time, or he’d drag you out and there would be days when Minghao also tags along.

So, really, it’s safe to say you’re with Xu Minghao almost 70% of the time except for the time when you’re at work.

“Not really. Just wondering because it looks hot to go around like that all the time.”

You hum as you contemplate your next words. You could’ve just brushed it off like you always do when people ask, but a part of you has finally arrived at a place where it wants to let him know about Mingyu even only a little.

After all, there are days when you share your pain with him. None of you really talk about it, but you’d both vaguely mention about sad romance from time to time; enough for the two of you to be almost sure that, yes, there’s something wrong about the soulmate situations upon you both.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system. Or perhaps it’s the dream you had of Mingyu last night, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

That’s probably why you feel like drinking today.

While moving in with Minghao proves to be a good step towards moving, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped crying when Mingyu appears in your dreams, which no longer happens quite often. There are still days when you’d read his old messages and stare at old pictures. When you’d open his Instagram account that’s no longer active and scroll through his aesthetically arranged feed.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still get choked up for obvious reasons.

At least he no longer resides in your mind on a daily basis, though the thought also weighs like a boulder upon your heart.

You… want to move on from him, but you also don’t.

The amount of love you hold for Mingyu is more than you think possible, it’s overwhelming and it’s a burden at times. You didn’t think you could love someone like you did Mingyu, soulmate or not.

You don’t mind though. Even though the love is heavy and you don’t think you can ever love anyone–anything as much as you love Mingyu, you don’t mind and you still want to do it.

You still want to do it now even if he’s no longer with you. Even if his scent has completely faded from every single belonging of his that you bring with you to your new place.

The fact that you’re actually getting used to a life without him hurts.

It hurts almost as much as the day you lost him.

It hurts because you’re close to forgetting how he even sounded if not for the hoard of videos of him in your phone.

Aren’t you supposed to be together forever? To hold each other every night and spend the rest of your life basking in each other’s warmth?

Aren’t you supposed to be soulmates? What the fuck went up there that decided you’re not going to have a happy ending with your soulmate?

You want to be okay without him.

You don't want to be okay without him.

Minghao’s concerned voice brings you out of your trance, and it’s only when you taste something salty in your lips that you realize you’ve been crying.

For all the time Minghao pretends he’s never noticed you crying, this can’t be one of them. Not when your tears come out of nowhere when you were spacing out for a few seconds upon his question. And when he asks in a hushed whisper whether you want him to hold you, you don’t even answer as you dive straight to his embrace, your tears refusing to stop now that you’re in someone’s arms.

He doesn’t seem to mind though and, for some reason, the way his arms gently circle around you makes you cry even harder. It’s such a contrast with Mingyu’s tight embrace, he always made sure to hug you hard, something to remind you that he’s there and you have him with you.

Minghao's hold is careful but sure, the way he hugs you is almost ticklish, like you’d break if he hugs you just a little too tight. Except for the few times you fell asleep on his shoulder upon movie nights, this is the first time you’ve ever been this physically close with Minghao.

You end up telling a gist of Mingyu that night, tying up your hair to show him your soulmate mark. If Minghao’s surprised at its color, he doesn’t show it, and it’s you who gasp in shock when he tugs the neckline of his shirt to show you his own blackened soulmate mark near his collarbone.

IMinghao starts talking first, as he figures it might be easier for you if you know he’s been through something along the same line. He never really likes talking about his soulmate, doesn’t really have any reason to do so either. But looking at you like this, it’s the urge to comfort you that overrides his usual reluctance.

If his pain can be anything other than pain… if it can even help someone in some way, perhaps it’d be better to share the story he’s been holding to himself.

“She left me for someone else.” You want to wipe the weak smile off his face, want to tell him that he doesn’t have to act like he’s okay because you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Minghao went through. “Said she found someone better and she doesn’t believe in soulmates. That we’re too different and believed the fact that we’re soulmates just proved that fate is nothing but stupid games.”

You know whatever words you offer him wouldn’t be enough.

You know.

You know because nothing anyone says would be enough to comfort you.

So you share him your pain, show him that he’s not alone and you know how it feels to be left behind.

The story you tell him is a very oversimplified version of the whole thing, that your soulmate is no longer with you and it’s still hard even though you’re coping. Though you do tell him that you did move into his house due to the same person.

Minghao’s gaze doesn’t falter as you tell him a very small part of your story, just enough to know you’re both hurting in the same way. That you’ve both lost the people who're supposed to be your destiny regardless of the reasons why. He doesn’t hesitate when he wipes your tears with his thumb, the look in his eyes is anything but pity.

Your lips still tremble despite your tears stopping, making it hard for you to continue talking even if you’re not sure how much you’re going to tell Minghao that night. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze falls to his lips the same time his eyes fall to yours. And when your eyes find each other a second later, you have no idea who makes the first move and how your lips end up upon his.

The kiss you share with him is soft; your lips upon his over and over again, your palms firmly planted on his shoulders as his stays on your waist. You have no idea either how long the kiss lasts for, but the kiss is sad as much as it is comforting, your fingers balling into fists as you grasp his shirt to get yourself together.

You wonder if Minghao can also taste the salty tears falling from your eyes upon his lips.

It’s him who pulls away first, and he doesn’t give you a chance to meet his eyes as he pushes you into the juncture of his neck and kisses the top of your head.

For the first time, Mingyu’s smile is sad when he appears in your dream.

He’s trying to tell you something, but there’s no sound coming out of his lips and your eyes are too blurry to make sense of his words. You’ve missed him so much, and you hate that he looks concerned when it’s been so long since you’ve dreamed of him.

You can still feel the fluttering warmth of Mingyu’s lips on your forehead when you wake up, only to find Minghao holding you to his chest as you both lay on the couch, his eyes closed and his protective arms firm around your figure.

You're not avoiding Minghao.

You've honestly just been plagued by the last dream you had of Mingyu that you’ve been a little dysfunctional for the past week. You haven’t got the chance to tell Jeonghan about the dream nor what went down that night, and you plan on telling him tonight in the comfort of your bedroom just in case you’d be crying again.

You’ve texted Minghao Jeonghan might be sleeping over that night, though he might also go home if he suddenly decides otherwise. You stare at your phone as you bite your lip, hating how you can even tell how awkward you two are even over texts.

[14:22] Hao, is it ok if Jeonghan stays the night? He might also suddenly decide to go home tho!!! I promise we’ll stay quiet

[18:45] Minghao 🍀: Sorry, I thought I replied already.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: And sure. You know I don’t mind Jeonghan.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: Thanks for the heads up.

Minghao doesn’t usually answer late, and it’s worrying you a little that it takes him almost four long hours to answer you. Isn’t he working from home today?

You really need to get back to your senses and fix whatever weird situation between you and your roommate. Though, truthfully, you know it’s just you making it weird because Minghao has been acting like usual. The smile he gave you when you both woke up in each other’s arms still haunts you among other things.

And while it’s true you’re not avoiding him, it’s also true you don’t know how to face him after that day.

“When’s Jeonghan picking you up?” Lisa snaps you out of your trance, sipping the last of her coffee. It’s been quite some time since you met up with her, and her text has come right when you need a happy distraction so you’re more than happy to accept the invitation and meet her after work, which is why your hang out with Jeonghan has been pushed accordingly.

It’s the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

“In a bit.” As usual, spending time with Lisa means having a good time. Usually, it’s followed by a good night sleep on your part, but as much as you love spending time with her, the thought of Mingyu, Minghao, and wanting to talk to Jeonghan about them clouds your mind to the point where you’re sure you won’t be having a good night sleep tonight. “He’s stuck in traffic.”

It’s about fifteen minutes later that Jeonghan comes in, and he sits down next to you to talk with Lisa for a bit before you part ways with her. You listen to him talk about work as he drives, offering your thoughts on the matters that you think would help.

When he pulls into Minghao's driveways you stop him from getting off the car, ripping the bandaid with one go because you don’t know how to do it otherwise.

“Me and Minghao kissed last week.”

Jeonghan looks at you wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“Just telling you now because I… well, there’s a chance Minghao might catch it if I tell you later.”

He stares at you in what you’d describe as worry, but before you can ask him to explain, he grabs your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “But you’re okay?”

“Somewhat.” You squeeze his hand back. “I’ll tell you everything after dinner.”

Surprisingly, Junhui’s voice greets you the moment you open the door. He’s speaking Chinese, your mind registers, and if his tone indicates anything, he’s upset and he’s nagging. You don’t see Minghao anywhere though, and you find Junhui by himself in the kitchen, hanging up on whoever’s on the other line before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Jun?”

“Oh. Hi. Want some soup?” He says like it’s normal that he’s here cooking without the owner of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Minghao’s down with a high fever.” He shakes his head as he stirs the soup in front of him. “He’s sleeping now.”

Minghao’s sick? Is that why you didn’t see him at all this morning? Why didn’t he tell you, though? You could’ve brought him something had you known.

“Can I… talk to you for a bit?” Junhui asks, his eyes flickering to Jeonghan behind you. The older guy seems to get the message, quickly leaving the kitchen and into the living room before you even answer. “Something happened between you and Hao, huh?”

For all it’s worth, you know Junhui has always been a protective friend. You’ve never been particularly close with him, but he’s close with Mingyu and you know what kinda person Junhui is courtesy of Mingyu’s words. He’s playful and he’s caring. Mingyu used to say Junhui isn’t the kind of person he would want to be enemies with, that he’s glad he’s friends with the older guy.

So to have him look at you with a piercing gaze, it’s hard for you not to deflate under his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. He didn’t either.” He starts, and then hesitates before he continues. “I… How are you?”

Your eyes prickle with tears at his question, because you know he’s not just asking about you in general. It’s there even if he doesn’t say it outright: how are you coping without Mingyu?

You try your best to blink the tears back, but fail when Junhui reaches out and pats your head. Your palm blocks the sob out of your mouth, and it’s when Junhui says his next words that your sobs turn into pathetic whimpers.

“Don’t think about it too much, okay? I know it’s hard without him. But if there’s anyone who can take care of you like he did… I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to take that chance.”

It’s hard to listen to him and not cry. Not when you know how close Junhui was with Mingyu. They’re not the bestest of friends, but were still close enough to spend nights drinking with each other to talk about life and the problems that came within.

Between all of Mingyu’s friends, you knew Junhui was one of the people he respected most.

“Mingyu used to say you always think about him before anything.” His voice trembles as he says it, and that’s when you realize you’ve only spoken about Mingyu once with him after the whole thing. As much as you’re hurting, you know they are too, to certain points. “But I think… I think it’s okay not to think of him first now. You don’t need to forget him. But try to think of yourself too, alright?”

You nod, not being able to say anything to that. While you haven’t actually dwelled on what you’re feeling for Minghao, it’s true that you’ve always stopped yourself from even thinking about it because of Mingyu. He’d come into your mind everytime Minghao does, and while it helps a little to know that at least you’ve both lost your soulmates, it’s still hard for you to think that you’d be replacing Mingyu somehow.

You don’t want to replace Mingyu.

You don’t want Minghao to be a rebound.

But is he, really?

“I’m not saying you have to decide now whether you want to give Minghao a try or not. But… you deserve another chance at happiness, okay? And whether it's with Minghao or not, I hope you'll take it when the chance presents itself to you.” He whispers softly.

It’d be a lie if you say you’ve never tried to think about Minghao in that light. Because you have, you have since that day you went to the cafe and drew with him. But Mingyu clouds your mind, and a part of you always feels like you’re betraying him and his memories if you even think about being with someone else.

“I promise Mingyu wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from a chance of another happiness.” You cry harder at this, palm still covering your mouth to stop your sob from echoing throughout the house. “I know it’s still hard to accept that Mingyu is no longer here. I know, trust me, I do. I lost my little brother too that day, and if it’s hard for me as a friend, I can only imagine how hard it is for you who lost your soulmate. But you can’t trap yourself in his memories forever, right?”

It’s then that you cry, cry, and cry.

It’s one thing to think to yourself that you’ve lost him, that he’s not with you anymore and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s another to hear it from someone else’s mouth right in front of your face.

It reminds you of that night a year and a half ago in the hospital, the words ringing in your head over and over again until it’s the only thing that echoes in your mind.

Mingyu is gone.

He’s gone and he’s not coming back to you.

He can’t come back to you.

No matter how much you’ve cried into your pillow and cursed at the gods to bring him back to you, it’s nothing but a futile attempt because he’s not here.

He’s no longer in this world and your heart still aches everytime you think about the fact that he’s dead and you can’t see him anymore.

What’s the use of having a soulmate if he’s going to leave you first out of nowhere?

What’s the use of having a soulmate when you couldn’t even do anything to protect him from the accident that took his life?

What the fuck is the use of having a soulmate if you’re not going to end up together with him for the rest of your life?

It’s then that Jeonghan rushes to the kitchen, immediately kneeling beside you on the floor because you don’t have any energy to even stand on your feet at this point. You don't even realize you're wailing, your palm doing nothing to help stopping your broken cry.

Jeonghan can't hear anything but your sobs since earlier, but he knows your talk with Junhui is long overdue, which is why he’s been holding himself back from barging in even though he’s been worried. But how can he stay still if he's heard you let out a loud cry followed by a thud?

Junhui follows and kneels next to you, patting your head once again as he wipes your tears to no avail.

“Think about it… okay?”

You’re spacing out as you lean on Jeonghan’s shoulder when Junhui knocks on your door. You’ve spent the last hour telling your best friend everything, from the way you’ve been suppressing your thoughts about Minghao to the talk with Junhui earlier. In a true Jeonghan style, he has offered you a piece of his mind followed by saying he agrees with Junhui though he doesn't fail to remind you to take your time thinking about it.

“Do you mind taking care of Minghao or do you want me to stay over?” It’s almost ten in the evening, you look at the clock on your wall, and you suppose Junhui is trying to figure out if he should go home now or not. “He gets a little needy when he’s sick but doesn’t say anything.”

You look at Jeonghan for some reason, and when he offers you nothing but raised eyebrows, you turn to Junhui and say you’d take care of Minghao for him.

“You sure?” He asks one more time. “I can just stay over if you don’t want to.”

Junhui chooses those words for a reason. He didn’t ask if you can do it, he makes sure to let you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to.

But you do. As much as you’re conflicted, you can’t deny the worry bubbling in your chest the moment you heard Minghao’s down with fever to the point where it's hard for him to even get out of bed.

“I’ll take care of him.” You say with a determined nod, your arm squeezing Jeonghan’s for support.

“Then I’ll trust you with him.” You’re probably looking too much into it. You have no idea if Minghao has confided Junhui in what’s transpired between the two of you, but his words seem to mean more to you regardless of his real intention.

“I’ll take you home then.” Jeonghan surprises you both, patting your cheek before he gently lets go of you. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be with tonight.”

It’s silent once the two went home, and you’re left on your own in the living room. You try to think about your talk with the two men, but your head pounds a little from all the crying. Your eyes are probably puffy too, though at least they’re not red and you probably just need to drink some water to help your headache.

You close your eyes and exhale as you lean your head back against the sofa head. Has it really been one and a half year since you lost Mingyu?

It's funny, grieving. You never really get over it, and as much as you claim you're okay and you've accepted that he's no longer with you, you know you'd never entirely accept that deep down in your heart.

Some days Mingyu doesn't cross your mind at all. Some days you can suddenly cry in between conversations because his name rings across your head for no apparent reason.

Time seems to be too fast and too slow when it comes to memories of Mingyu. You never really thought about finding a new romance before, if only because you live in a world where soulmates exist and Mingyu took your heart with him the moment he left this world.

It must be some sort of twisted fate too for you to find Minghao, another shattered soul whose soulmate left him by choice. As much as it hurt you to lose Mingyu the way you did, you couldn’t imagine how Minghao picked up the pieces of his broken heart because the person who’s supposed to be his forever left him for selfish reasons.

You can’t imagine how his heart can still be as pure as it is with the pain it went through.

While you don’t know yet what exactly went down, what you know for sure is how beautiful of a person Minghao is. He probably knows you’re struggling since the beginning. He’s been considerate in more ways than you could’ve imagined, in his own soft, subtle way to the point where you didn’t realize he’s taking care of you.

It took you quite some time to realize, but it makes sense because you can recognize the pain that flashes through his eyes too from time to time. As two owners of broken fate, it’s not surprising that you recognize one another.

The sound of the door creaking brings you back from your head, and you see Minghao looking a little lost when the door opens, probably wondering why the house is dark and quiet.

“Why are you out of bed?” You scold him softly as you make your way to him. You usher him back to bed, but Minghao insists his body hurts from laying down too much and he needs to stretch a little.

So you make him sit on the sofa instead, which he whines at because it’s not that different, but his heart softens at your concerned whine so he decides entertaining you shouldn’t be too bad even if he feels like walking around the house.

“Drink some water.” You hand him his usual mug, then plops beside him as your palm automatically reaches for his forehead, cheek, and then neck. Minghao doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, though he shivers at your touch because your palm is cold when it meets his skin. “Your fever has gone down, I think."

“Were you worried?” his voice asks softly. Almost hopeful, even. None of you bothers to turn on the lights, though the light peeking from the kitchen helps just enough for you two to see each other albeit dimly.

You think Minghao might be a little delirious, but Junhui did say Minghao gets needy when he’s sick, so you do the least you can do and decide to throw away all of your thoughts for the night. What matters right now is that he’s sick and you want to take care of him.

“I was. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” It’s funny the way you’re both talking like it’s a secret. Your soft voices barely heard throughout the house even though it’s loud enough just for the two of you.

Minghao shrugs, not offering you any explanation. But you see it in his eyes, in the way he hesitates and shakes his head. He probably didn’t think it was okay to tell you.

“Tell me next time, okay? Though it would be better if you don’t get sick again.”

He hums and it’s silent after that. Minghao turns to the window, looking at the dark night outside. “Did Junhui go home?”

“Yeah. I told him I’d take care of you.”

“Did you?” His voice gets even softer when he says this, both hopeful and afraid. But before you can say anything, he cuts you off and asks again. “And Jeonghan?”

“Took Junhui home.” You pause before you continue. Is it a good time to bring it up now? Would it be better to do it when you’re both awake and well? Listen to your heart, okay? It’s okay to put your guard down sometimes. Jeonghan’s words from earlier ring in your head. “Said that it’s not him I need to be with tonight.”

If he’s surprised, Minghao doesn’t show it. But his stare seems to pierce through the dark and you can’t find it in you to look away. Mingyu appears once again in your mind, but you try your best to suppress the thought before you find yourself deep into it.

“Is there anyone you need to be with tonight?”

“Mmh. Maybe.” You try to be nonchalant, very conscious of the way your heart is beating loudly against your chest. You look out the window before you start talking again, a pensive look on your face as you contemplate your words. “It’s weirdly dark tonight, huh?”

Minghao follows your sight and nods, waiting for you to say more. You gather your hair and move them to your right shoulder, and from where he’s at, he can see the black stars peeking behind your left ear.

“It’s Cassiopeia, my mark.” You start, your eyes still locked on the night sky. “I tried looking them up once, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to actually understand the story. Mingyu did though, and he’d pop up a quiz from time to time to see if there’s anything I retain from all the time he babbled about our identical marks.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, but his hand finds yours and he’s glad you don’t pull away, simply holds his hand tighter as if you’re looking for something to keep you going. His heart cracks at your weak smile, but he knows you have more to say and he’s more than willing to listen.

“I ended up liking them though; the celestial objects. The moon, the stars, planets, everything that’s up there in the sky. I found fascination in them and I’d find myself buying stuff with their patterns.”

Minghao can’t see you clearly because of the dark, but he imagines your eyes are watering up by the slight tremble of your voice.

“And then it stopped when Mingyu died. I don’t hate them, but it hurts to see them and… if you remember my drawing those months ago, I suppose that’s why my drawing was so dark even if I did it unconsciously.”

You pause to take a breath, your hand tightens around Minghao’s. “I think he took all the stars with him the night he left. That selfish jerk.”

His heart clenches painfully at your weak chuckle, at the way your hand reaches up to wipe your own tears, and at the way you take a deep breath in determination.

“But… But it’s okay even if we can’t see the stars, right?”

Minghao gapes at his own words from that day you drew together, words that he said without much thought but seems to hit you in ways that he would never imagine. He tightens his grip on you, and then pulls you to his shoulder before taking his turn to speak.

“You probably don’t recognize it. But forsythia is my soulmate mark.” He says as he caresses your knuckle, his mind taking him back to the exact day you referred to just seconds ago. “I knew it took a lot for you to be there. And even though I didn’t know exactly why, I could tell it was hard. But you pulled through and I thought I should do the same. So when you asked me to draw a flower, I knew I had to draw the most beautiful forsythia I could ever draw in my life.”

“I used to hate them, you know?” You can hear him smile even though you’re buried in his shoulder, his arm that has made its way around you pushes you more into himself. “But you saw that drawing like it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I saw you carrying around that keyring everyday and it’s… something. I’ve heard a lot of people compliment my works, but I’ve never seen someone appreciate it as much as you do. It wasn’t intentional, but I think you helped me get through it without even meaning to.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes, and for someone who claims you don’t find beauty in stars anymore, you almost want to dive into Minghao’s eyes that seem to twinkle with all the stars Mingyu took with him.

“Do you know what forsythia symbolizes?” You know he’s not expecting you to actually know, so you shake your head and urge him to continue. “Anticipation, apparently. Because they bloom in spring and signal the beginning of one. I’d like to interpret it as the flower of a new beginning.”

You almost cry again at what it implies; at what it can imply not only for him but for the two of you. Is it too early to jump into that? Is it too fast? Weren’t you just crying about Mingyu hours ago?

“We don’t have to figure it out now.” His voice rings through the night, his fingers caress your arm to shield you from whatever’s in the dark of night. “The morning will come eventually even when the night is long, right?”

“Yeah.” You succumb into his embrace as you smile through your tears. But how can you not when Minghao says those words like Mingyu did many nights ago?

“Don’t think about it too much.” He kissed your cheek and hugged you close to his chest, to shut you up more than anything, really. “It’s not like the morning won’t come even if the night is a little too long. Focus on what you have in front of you, instead okay?”

“But what if–”

“No.” He cut you off, his palm covering your mouth as he laughed at your glare. “No what if. Let’s enjoy the night while we’re at it.”

“You sound stupid.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance despite the way your heart swelled in affection.

“You love me anyway.” He grinned cheekily, which you laughed at out of embarrassment because if there’s one thing you could never do, it’s to deny your love for him even jokingly.

“Hao?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll hold me through the night, right?”

He smiles like it’s not even a question, his fingers intertwining with yours as if to make a point.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s a long one?”

He clasps your hand tighter, his thumb caressing your knuckle.

“Yeah.”

A/N 2: hi!! it's been quite some time since i write anything along this genre. i've always wanted to write soulmate!au and while this isn't exactly heartfluttering like soulmate!au usually is, i hope you enjoyed it one way or another. this fic got longer than i originally planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it and please do send me your thoughts through anything you're comfortable with. i know it sounds repetitive at this point, but it's truly your feedbacks that keep me goin<3

A/N 3: did any of u guessed gyu di*d btw

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also tagging: @joonsytip

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cuubism · 19 days

Note

Okay, since it’s not explicitly prohibited to send several asks for the wip game, I’m gonna be adventurous! What about the new king Dream knight Hob fic you mentioned? (Yes, I’m a sucker for king x knight dynamics, sue me🥲)

i too am weak for any king x knight dynamic, go crazy for that shit whenever i encounter it 😂 the premise of the new one (for which i wrote like 4k in 2 days but haven't finished yet) is that Dream is a beautiful prince who swore he would never have an arranged, political marriage, he would only marry for love, and Hob is his devoted knight who's been pining for him for... literally forever, but was always like "a prince would never marry someone who's not another royal 😢 it's fine though it's literally fine I'll just devote my life to him it's fine"

and it was basically fine like that until their kingdom got attacked, they didn't have the forces to defend themselves, none of their supposed allies saw sufficient incentive to help them, so Dream was like "fine you guys are always trying to rope me into some political marriage or other already, how about this time if someone steps up and supplies forces to stop this country getting burned to the ground then i'll agree to marry you (or your son, daughter, etc etc)"

(this is all just the most contrived scenario you can possibly imagine created solely for the purposes of drama and pining XD does it make logical sense? probably not, but it doesn't have to)

their allies are all shitty people apparently because they're like "helping to prevent thousands of civilians from dying? pass. helping to get to marry a beautiful prince? SMASH!"

meanwhile hob

so of course Hob, always a rational actor as we know, is like "I'll just have to figure out how to come up with enough forces so that Dream marries ME instead"

#everything that happens in this fic is UTTERLY implausible but hopefully fun and entertaining XD #prince dream and knight hob #my fics #ask #thistleandpoppies #thank you! :)

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ao3commentoftheday · 2 years

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Hi, I wanted to say first that I love your blog, thank you for modding it!!

As for my question, it's this: I have written my fair amount of fanfiction, but it's always been one-shots, and normally quite short (my longest fic right now is 11K, and my mean length is probably 5K). But now I've decided to give a longfic a shot, because I have a plot idea that I really like and that I want to expand on.

But that means that for the first time I'm having to deal with a plot that has to make sense, and delayed gratification (normally it never takes more than a month between starting to write and posting). And I'm having issues with motivation and focus. The fact that it has been a month and I haven't finished the setup is eating away on my will to write.

Any advice??

First of all, congratulations on having such a big idea! That's very exciting indeed :)

When it comes to writing out a big idea, you have more than just one option in front of you. If you want to write it all out as one long story, you can definitely do that. But you also have the option of writing it out as a series of shorter stories. This might be useful if your current way of writing works best with shorter works.

Another thing to consider is not writing all of it. What I mean by that is, how much of the set up is necessary from the reader's perspective and how much of it is you solidifying your own ideas for yourself ahead of digging into the plot? If writing the set up is something that you enjoy, then by all means go right ahead. But if you're just doing it because you think you have to, then skip it. A lot of the heavy lifting can be done with your summary and tags and even an author's note if you want to go that route and a lot can be left unsaid or revealed as you write the out your plot.

If you want to write one big story, then staying motivated will definitely be a factor and something that will depend on where you get your motivation from. If you need support from your community, then I recommend posting snippets (for example, on Six Sentence Sunday or WIP Wednesday).

If you get energy from discussing your story with others, then get a cheer reader or two from amongst your friends - people who can read it when it's still a draft and have those conversations with you.

If you're more motivated by metrics, then give yourself celebrations for completing chapters, hitting specific word count goals, or getting in a solid chunk of writing time during the week.

And no matter what, I really recommend celebrating when you write a line or a scene that gets an emotional reaction out of you. If you manage to make yourself laugh or cry or experience heartache or rage, then enjoy that moment and record it in some way. Possibly with a journal entry (if you're a journalling type) or by selecting a quote and creating a graphic for it. Or even just by writing it out by hand on nice paper or recording it in a voice note. Treasure that moment and it can really help to keep you going.

This is getting long despite me generally being a short writer myself lol, so I'll pass it off to others. How do you stay motivated and keep writing when you're in the midst of a long fic and haven't started posting yet? What tips can you share?

#asks and answers

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astrachigo · 15 days

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The Royals' Blood - Current Status

I really, really hate myself for doing this yet again, but I just can't lie anymore. I'd like to address something.

There's a possibility that I might put this fic on hold. No, not even a possibility, I AM putting it on hold. I know, I know that there have been huge gaps between chapters, and I am sorry, but lately, I've been feeling more detached to this work.

All of the requests are awesome and unique, I can't wait to write all of them, but at the same time I just can't. I am pushing myself past my limit to make some sort of a chapter but at the end of the day, I don't like it, not at all.

It's not that I hate this work, no, I really like this AU of mine and I wish to continue it, for you guys to see the end of the story and what I have planned for it, but when I don't feel connected to it? It's difficult.

I tried telling myself otherwise and that I shouldn't put TRB on yet ANOTHER hiatus, because I feel so bad for all of my readers who really enjoy this work. Whenever I receive art I really feel like I am going to cry, because I seriously feel like I don't deserve such a kind audience, really. Why are you so nice to me, yet I can't do something as simple as writing a one-shot?

I tried writing the new chapter, it's not finished and I have no clue when it will be finished. When I write I just feel like it's not enough, I don't know why, with every other fic it's perfectly fine, but when it comes to TRB, I am just draining every last bit of energy out of myself.

Will I abandon this fic? No, I won't and would never even think of it. But at the same time, I do need a break from this work. I used to publish a lot chapters weekly before, I have no idea what happened to me now, I have no idea why I can't publish them like I have before.

What started as a simple, easy project turned into something like work to me. I feel obligated to write because I don't want to upset anyone, but by doing so, I only hurt myself more. It's rough.

I will come back to this work, I will finish it and show you the end of N and Uzi's tale, that's a promise.

Thank you for your understanding, this decision wasn't easy for me and I feel extremely guilty that I have to make this post, because I know that I am probably just making up excuses at this point. I love and cherish every single one of you, your fanart, support and love. Don't worry, I'll be coming back to The Royals' Blood, after all, can I really leave my cuties alone? Without a proper end?

I'll maybe shorten the fic a bit when I come back, that is: I'll be writing the rest of the request before getting to the lore and the end, but that's already a decision that is only up to my future self.

In the meantime, I'll be working on my other work. I won't be going on a hiatus, the work that is going on one is TRB only.

I am deeply sorry for putting it on hold, thank you for reading and have a good rest of the day.

-With love, Astrachigo

#the royals' blood #fanfiction #updates #update #important update

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wikiangela · 5 months

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✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Words and Fics

192,761 words published to ao3

2 fandoms (911 and MCU - mcu was like one fic tho lol)

Most recent drop: I wanna spend my forever like that (911, 8.6k, G)

Longest fic: For a holiday (and forevermore) (911, 95k, M)

Top Fics by Kudos

For a holiday (and forevermore) (95k, M)

I can't love you any more (than I do now) (2.6k, G)

I'd marry you with paper rings (3.4k, G)

me, you, our kid and a dog (4.7k, G)

me and you only equals love (6.6k, E)

My fandom fic events in 2023

I don't think I took part in any this year :( maybe next year haha

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

well, right now I'm working on a few wips im hoping to get done in the next few weeks/months (depending on time and inspiration lol):

the alive shannon fic - this is my main focus and i hope to maybe finish it sometime next year but who knows hah (I barely started, it's gonna be a while)

buddie coffee shop au - ive been working on this for so long and it's lowkey on hold now but istg i'll finish this

buddie cheating fic

the natalia fic

married buddie smut

another smut I haven't mentioned yet but it's waiting until i finish married buddie smut

bi eddie fic

and probably some more oneshots lol

but tbh, we'll see where the next year takes me, I can't plan too much bc it never works out haha

rules & tags below the cut

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @underwater-ninja-13 @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @jamespearce9-1-1 @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss <333

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @spotsandsocks @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @jeeyuns @housewifebuck @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 and whoever else wants to <3

#tbf mcu was one fic from january lmao - after that 911 wholly consumed me haha #this year was basically exclusively buddie #i've been writing buddie since march 2021 but october 2022 they *really* took over and i can't write anything else haha #fic writing review 2023 #my fics #wikiangela writes #buddie fics #buddie #tag games

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kemendin · 15 days

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Epilogue

Or, I finished my first playthrough of BG3 and had many emotions (still processing) and many thoughts (also still processing), so here are some Kem ramblings on chosen endings and what happens post-game in Dhamari canon. Under cut because major spoilers of course!

So, for anyone curious, here's how things turned out, and these are fairly unsurprising I'd imagine:

Astarion did not ascend. I tried it for kicks, and I hated his ascended self lol. And Dhamari wouldn't have gone for the 'replace one tyrant with another' idea.

Gale did not claim godhood, BUT nor did he actually give the crown to Mystra - it was left in the sea. As Dhamari said, "If Mystra wants it, she can damn well fish it out herself."

Wyll became the Blade of Avernus, and went romping back to the Hells with Karlach. Go be badasses, guys!!

Lae'zel became the new Comet, and went sailing off to be the saviour of her people.

Shadowheart turned her back on Shar and went off to explore Faerûn and her new faith in Selûne (and got custody of the owlbear).

As for Dhamari and Gale... I had to do a lot of pondering on their ending, both in terms of in-game choices and how things ACTUALLY play out in my brain. While I’m very entertained by the idea of ‘Professor Dekarios’ I don’t think Dhamari is cut out for city life. So the short answer is, I went with the ‘I’ll marry you but I won’t live in Waterdeep’ option and they go off adventuring again instead.

The long version is, of course, more complicated:

Initially Dhamari is all 'yes of course I'll marry you and go back to Waterdeep with you' because frankly he's got no idea what to do with himself post-Netherbrain destruction. But that goes kinda not too well overall, for several reasons:

a) He really has no idea what he's getting into with the whole wedding business, because drow don't DO that. So while Gale's making all these plans and sending out multitudes of invitations, Dhamari's list consists of Wyll, who can't come, and Jaheira, who probably could, and he's just very overwhelmed by all the grand ceremony notions.

b) He's jealous of now having to share Gale with Tara and Mrs Dekarios and probably half of Waterdeep, because Gale's of course rather well known, and even more so after saving Baldur's Gate. Gale knows everyone and Dhamari knows no one, and he feels like he's being perceived as this odd little drow blemish on the local wizard celebrity (whether or not this is actually true is up for debate).

c) After the relief of no longer having a brain death sentence and the pressure of saving the world wears off, and he's had a little chill time, he starts feeling incredibly restless again. He's never had a point in his life till now where he wasn't scared or in danger or both - he has no idea how to live a life that doesn't involve fighting to survive. Unfortunately, in absence of obvious threats, he ends up on some mental level fighting Gale instead - lashing out with confusions and uncertainties he doesn't know how to cope with.

So within a month or so things get very tense between them, because Dhamari is rather terrible at communicating his problems to other people, but eventually they're forced to hash all this out. The end results are: a much smaller wedding than originally planned, Gale declining the offer to take a teaching post at Blackstaff Academy, and soon after the wedding they pack up and go adventuring again for a while so they can spend some time together that's ACTUALLY just the two of them.

At some point - dunno yet if it's pre- or post-epilogue reunion get-together - Dhamari visits with Jaheira, and she invites him to join the Harpers. Dhamari's felt a sort of half-conscious connection with the Harpers for a WHILE now, since finding the executed patrol of them in Grymforge (that's a whole other ramble/fic in process lol) and so when Jaheira makes this offer he's like '...huh yeah I could do that'. It gives him a much needed sense of purpose in life, gets him out and about and not quite so latched onto Gale every hour of the day. So when he and Gale take breaks from adventures and chill in Waterdeep for a bit, Gale can be doing his wizardy stuff with his wizardy friends, and Dhamari does whatever Harper business needs doing around the city.

So things aren't always perfect between them, and frankly these two will always find something to argue about because they ARE such different people. But they love each other, and they learn from each other, and as far as they're concerned - it's a happy ending.

Random tidbit - I really like that in the route I chose, Gale retains the mark of the orb. I think that despite what it was - a death sentence - Dhamari's actually rather fond of it aesthetically, and even sees it as a reminder - to both of them - that Gale survived. That Gale chose Dhamari, chose life, and it was the right choice.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3:dhamari #kem oc #kem rambles #otp: woven in the storm

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slippinmickeys · 24 days

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Twenty questions for fanfic writers

I was tagged by @agent-troi and @randomfoggytiger Thanks for the tag, guys!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

712,000 exactly, which is sort of creepy?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files mainly, though a million years ago I wrote two fics for JAG, and technically, I have a His Dark Materials fic (but it's an XF crossover)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae

Prompt Drabble Collection

The Annapolis Grant

Three Part Harmony

A Companion Unobtrusive

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Comments are the only payment fanfic writers get, and it's an incredibly valuable and underrated currency. Fanfiction as a community is one of the most generous you'll find, and I'm incredibly proud to be a part of this particular one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man, probably La Comtesse de Saint-Germain.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In this day and age I feel like we deal with enough shit, so I try to end most of my fics happily. I think A Gem-Like Flame probably has the most uplifting happy ending, but then, I'm a sports nerd.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Um, probably pretty vanilla het MSR. No shame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've only written one, but it turned out really well, I thought. It's an X-Files/His Dark Materials novella-length crossover that takes place in Lyra's world, pre-Lyra, called Out of the Little Grove.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Anyone who steals my fic is going to catch these hands.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a couple of years ago someone asked if they could translate one of my fics to Russian. It's out there somewhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I jumped in and helped @monikafilefan get Five Years and a Lifetime over the line for a fic exchange a couple of years ago. A fun, collaborative experience, that was like 85% Monika. It's a great fic, check it out if you haven't!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mulder & Scully are my OTP. Always and forever.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd love to finish Madam Scully's Spiritual Services, Inc., it's an AU where Scully works for her sister's Psychic Boutique while prepping for med school. Scully ends up being actually psychic and she helps newly minted FBI agent Fox Mulder solve a series of murders. I have it almost completely plotted (except for the nitty-gritty hard stuff), but I don't think I'll ever get it done, sadly. It's just too big a story to tackle with where I am in my life. Though I never say never.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm decent at dialogue, have a pretty firm grasp on plotting, and, I hope characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My character work is probably my weak spot, which is why I have so much fun writing fanfic--the character work is already done, I just get to play around a world where everybody already knows the characters.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

When I do it, I hope like hell that I'm doing it right. I think it's necessary for some stories and you just hope you're properly respecting a language you don't speak.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety eight.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's a toss up between Proof of Life, an AU where CNN conflict reporter Dana Scully is kidnapped and imprisoned with fellow kidnap victim and photojournalist Fox Mulder, and they, you know, fall in love. And North of Zero, a post-col novel where Mulder and Scully get William back and have to save the world. The one I totally pantsed (made up as I went along), and it came together like alchemy. I love that story. If you don't like AU, you'd like Proof of Life. If you don't like post-colonization stories, you'd like North of Zero. I don't always like everything I've written after I'm done writing it (a writer's life), but I'm incredibly proud of both of those fics.

Tagging @monikafilefan because she's already tagged, and anyone else who wants to do this!

#fanfic asks #the x-files #the x-files fanfic #slippin mickeys

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redfurrycat · 1 year

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🏃❄️⚡💎Coldflash Fic Recs 💎⚡❄️🏃

🏃⚡Coldflash Goodies to Read❄️💎

Ao3 Authors: A_once_and_future_love, Alexis_Tenshi, Anonymous, AriesOfBlue, Avengersincamphalfbloodstardis, Barrylen, Blueelvewithwings, CallMeHopeless, Canthelpmyselves, Captain_Giggles, ColdSerenity, Crestfaller, Crimson1, Crystalblinks, Enina, Exasperatedmoron, Flye, Grimmfairy, ImaKaraTabiHe, Indiepjones46, Lutavero, MissSugarPlum, Mistvalkyrie, Mockingbird_22, Niennavalier, Nirejseki, NoelleAngelFyre, QLaLa, RedHead, Relenafanel, Saruma_aki, Simplicity, StarlightDreamer16, StillNotGinger10, Sugarybowl, Swing Set in December, Thundersnow.

The Seduction of Leonard Snart by saruma_aki {T}

Barry decided that using pick-up lines on one Leonard "What Is A Relationship" "What Is Flirting" Snart was a good way to pass the time.

The Honeypot by StillNotGinger10 {G}

Lisa laughed, a chiming, delicate sound that she’d once needed to practice for hours before it sounded right. “That’s no problem. I’d love to hear about your crush, as long as it isn’t Cisco.” She finished by sending a coy look Cisco’s way and ducking her head. He and Barry shared another look. He was eating up her act hook, line, and sinker. Barry gave an awkward laugh of his own. “Ha no, no. It’s—I’m not—really, I’m not crushing on anyone.” “Only Captain Cold,” Caitlin said before sipping her drink with a smirk still on her lips. Lisa goes to the bar planning on conning The Flash's friend, Cisco. As the night goes on, she learns a lot more than she bargained for.

Shovel Talk by nirejseki {_}

Barry warned him that people might try to give Len the shovel talk, now that Barry had decided to bring his and Len's year-old relationship into the light. Len never said he was going to be nice about letting them.

Chocolate, Roses and New Running Shoes by blueelvewithwings {T}

Barry has a secret admirer that leaves gifts for him to find every single day. The more this goes on, the more Barry falls for whoever is trying to woo him. The closer to Valentine's Day it gets, the more nervous Barry becomes: Will his admirer reveal themselves on that day?

Everybody else is second best by barrylen {T}

Barry couldn't stop sneaking glances at Leo and Ray. Leo had a plan, of course.

Hero Worship by canthelpmyselves {M}

When it appears that Barry may be flirting with one of his hostages, Len's jealousy gets the better of him.

You're A Criminal (As Long As You're Mine) by NoelleAngelFyre {T}

By the third visit, they've officially established a pattern. Following the death of Lewis Snart and his son's incarceration, Barry copes with the feeling of injustice by paying his nemesis a visit behind bars. Before long, a couple random visits has turned into something more. Something much more than either probably expected.

The Thought of You by StillNotGinger10 {G}

Growing up with the words ‘The red leather looks hot. Too bad I'll have to cool him off.’ scrawled across his arm was the most embarrassing thing Barry could think of. Yet that’s what his soulmate’s first thought would be when they finally came face to face. Everyone was born with their soulmate’s first thought when meeting them written somewhere on their body, and Barry’s words were certainly the most embarrassing soul words that he’d ever seen.

I think I love You by Aquafolie, Thundersnow {T}

When struck by a metahuman’s abilities, Barry suddenly, and uncontrollably, can only speak in songs. To save him the embarrassment, everyone agrees that he should be left alone for a while… at least until the effects have worn off. Captain Cold, however, didn’t get the memo. . Or the time when Barry accidentally serenades Len.

Lullabies for Little Criminals by crestfaller {T}

Leonard Snart: Pickpocket Extraordinaire. Robber of ATM’s. Destroyer of the Oculus. Best thief Central City has or will ever see. Then, due to tampering with his own timeline, Rip Hunter informs Len that he’s become a father back in 2016. Now it’s Leonard Snart: Owner of Minivan. Keeper of a fleet of what seems like an ever-expanding amount of toy soldiers. Father to four-year-old son that’s so enamored by the Flash that he can’t decide if it’s not funny or absolutely hysterical. And he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

You Are The One And Only by CallMeHopeless {T}

Five times Len gets called 'Lenny' and hates it. One time he actually kind of likes it. Warning: Leonard Snart is in serious danger. He might need a bite guard.

Out Cold by Crimson1 {M}

Captain Cold's plan for a bit of fun with his nemesis results in more than he bargained for when a head wound from dashing to Flash's rescue leaves him without any memories of who he or The Flash is. As Barry nurses Len back to health, both of them quickly start to hope that he never remembers being Captain Cold as the attraction they feel for each other turns into something more without the pitfalls of being enemies to stand in their way. AU with everything having happened up to the Season 1 finale, except Eddie shot Eobard instead of himself, killing him, and the singularity didn’t happen.

Love Me by sinplicity {M}

A meta-human with Cupid-like powers whammies Barry to fall in love with the first person he sees. Just his luck it happened to be Captain Cold. (“He hasn’t let go of me for almost an hour,” says Len, focusing his steel on Cisco, who shrinks considerably. “’Cause I love you,” says Barry beside him, his teeth gleaming as he grins. He tries to kiss Len again—god, the seventh time?)

Green tea and cranberry scones by grimmfairy {_}

Another coffee shop AU. Len is waiting in line for his coffee when he witnesses a rude customer get taken down a peg by the owner. A take on "I want to speak with the manager!" "I am the manager."

Seeking Comfort by ColdSerenity {E}

Barry's life is changing as he finally starts college, but he still continues to harbor feelings for Iris. After meeting senior Leonard Snart who is in a similar situation, they begin to use one another for comfort. Unfortunately, things quickly turn very serious for Barry, and he is left to wonder where Len stands in this 'make believe' relationship.

The Frozen Heart of the Sea by Mistvalkyrie {E}

Captain Cold’s idyllic pirate life will get threatened when his cursed frozen heart gets stolen by a mysterious hazel-eyed prisoner during a voyage to raid the legendary and lost city of Atlantis.

Realm of Darkness by Mistvalkyrie {E}

Barry was a young god craving chaos and Leonard was the deadly king of the Underworld seeking peace. A Hades/Persephone AU with powers/Greek Mythology

Tumbling Together by RedHead {M}

When Barry and Len discover that they’ve accidentally become neighbors, they learn to navigate their new living situation amongst misunderstandings and a surprising amount of common ground. AKA the fun-as-it-comes Neighbors!AU which turns into a Pretend Relationship!AU filled with tropes, hijinks, and some vague notion of a plot.

Got A Melancholic Temperament (that's what they said to me) by RedHead {E}

A new meta with a strange ability has public opinion divided on whether she’s a menace or a miracle-worker. The jury’s still out on the matter when the Snart siblings get caught in her crosshairs. Or: Leonard and Lisa end up temporarily de-aged. It’ll wear off, but in the meantime, Team Flash has to figure out what the heck to do with them and how to keep them safe. Inviting them to live at the West house seems like a natural, if terrible, solution.

Commander Cold by Thundersnow {T}

Cisco was sitting in front of the computers with his back to Len, as usual, as Barry hovered around in front of the engineer. Except, right now Barry currently had dark blond hair and was dressed in a blue parka with a version of the cold gun attached to his thigh. The younger man looked over at Len in the doorway and his big eyes went wide. "Are you mocking me, Barry?" Len drawled, raising an eyebrow in question and trying not to laugh at the image of the Flash dressed as a supervillain. The team are surprised to find a time traveller from the future that shares a striking resemblance to one Barry Allen. But… if he is the Flash’s son… then why is he wearing Captain Cold’s gear?

what the future holds by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis {T}

While Barry is helping out on a mission aboard the Waverider, he and Len are shown a glimpse into their future.

rumor has it by QLaLa {T}

Leonard knew that a surprise visit from Henry Allen’s son was going to open him up to all kinds of unwanted questions from the other denizens of Iron Heights. In hindsight, he should’ve expected some of those questions to come from Henry Allen himself.

Social Call by Captain_Giggles {T}

The Waverider is busted again, leaving the Legends temporarily stranded in another time. Len is not happy. Gideon to the rescue!

Cold Communication by crystalblinks {G}

If there was Len hated more than being called a hero, it was Rip Hunter. Len knew real heroes, ones that had sacrificed so much to help out others. Rip wasn’t a hero, he was selfish. So Len made it his mission to annoy the fuck out of him as long as they were on the Waverider.

Cleaner Cold by AriesOfBlue {T}

“So let me get this straight.” Cisco said, waving a spoon at him from his computer chair. “Snart is your cleaner, has been for a month, and it’s fine?” “Actually, yeah.” Barry shrugged while answering Cisco. His nonchalance would be concerning, except it really was fine. Surprisingly fine. “The place was spotless on the first day. I had no idea my windows could let in so much light.” “A: that’s what windows are supposed to do. B: that’s what cleaners do, make things clean and shiny.” “Clean and Smart.” Cisco rolled his eyes. It was impressive how he put his whole body into it. OR Barry is not a manchild despite what Iris says, Len is a cleaner at Clean and Smart and Barry has a point to prove about Jitters coffee (and Len uses eco friendly cleaning products!)

Of Time Travel and Other Disasters by Enina {M}

Rip Hunter wants to use time travel to save the world. Barry wants to punch him for it.

Barry + Lisa = Best Friends by exasperatedmoron {G}

To everyone in Barry and Lisa's lives, the two were nemesis (or more specifically, a hero and his nemesis's sister). To each other, they were best friends. A pair of superhero/supervillain best friends with a penchant for makeup, dress up and gossiping about their cold-themed villain/brother.

The Prince and the Ice King by Crimson1 {E}

For 200 years, the Emerald Kingdom has sent the dreaded Ice King a sacrifice each Winter Solstice. A corrupt soul is chosen, whether a criminal, a deviant who lusts sinfully, or someone touched by magic. Prince Barry has always loathed this tradition, partly because he lusts in sin himself, dreaming of love with another man instead of a future queen, but he can handle the sacrifices no longer when his best friend, Cisco, is chosen, called a witch for seeing visions. If necessary, Barry will kill the Ice King himself to rescue his friend, but while he hopes for a peaceful resolution, he is not prepared for what he finds in the Frozen Kingdom.

I'll Believe in Anything by Swing Set in December {G}

High school is stressful for Barry Allen. Especially if Leonard Snart insists on carrying your books.

Flight Risk by nirejseki {_}

When Henry Allen is brought into Iron Heights for the first time, Leonard Snart is twenty-two years old, sick of his cellmate, and bored half to death.

Rich Man's World by nirejseki {_}

Everyone knows that money makes the world go round - and Leonard Snart, full-time thief and part-time accountant, is going to personally kill the guy who just inherited STAR Labs if he doesn't sign his goddamn tax returns already.

Spousal Privileges (and other such secrets) by StarlightDreamer16 {T}

“My apologies, Captain Hunter, but that information is–” “Above my clearance level. Yes, Gideon, I am quite aware.” Rip pressed his forehead against the screen for a moment. “If you tell me that one more time, I swear I’ll shut you off.” “You are not authorised to access my main power controls in that way. -- Turns out, whoever created Gideon made some unexpected choices regarding who can and cannot override direct orders from Captain Hunter.

Green is not Len's color. by canthelpmyselves {M}

Len knows his Scarlet Speedster. Intelligent? Yes. Handsome? Undoubtedly. Heroic? Absolutely. Straight? Of cour... um wait! Is that Barry on a date with a guy???

Come on be my baby by lutavero {G}

Earth2!Len is the Mayor of CC who tries to woo Earth2!Barry during political fundraisers to no avail.

Putting Things in Perspective by niennavalier {T}

The one time Leonard Snart didn't mean to steal something, and the five people who witnessed the crime. Or, alternatively: The five people who witness Leonard Snart and Barry Allen finding out they're Soulmates in the middle of the Precinct, and the one person stuck in interrogation trying to pretend none of it had happened.

Face Blind by nirejseki {_}

Barry's just a regular CSI. Totally 100% boring, normal, and standard. Except for the fact that he's dating a supervillain. (Prompt: Barry's just a regular CSI, and he takes his super villain fiance to his high school reunion. Maybe Len scaring the crap outta Woodward?)

Hokey Religions and Ancient Weapons by A_once_and_future_love {T}

May the Speed Force be with you.

I Smell You, Too by CallMeHopeless {T}

Draco is happy with his job as potions master. He likes the day when he gets to teach his students the Amortentia potion best. Trust a handful of Slytherins and Gryffindors make him overthink his choices.

2016 by StillNotGinger10 {G}

“Too bad you can’t call a phone in 2016, Gideon,” Len mused aloud. “Then, you’d be perfect.” “I may not be able to connect to a phone, Mr. Snart, but I can contact anyone with access to the version of my software that resides in that time period,” came Gideon’s even tones over the speakers, making Len straighten up in interest. “Are you telling me,” he asked, “that there is a Gideon in 2016?” Was that possible? Wasn’t the AI an invention of the future? Why didn’t he know about this? Why hadn’t he stolen it yet? He knew about everything worth stealing in his time. “A time traveler brought his version of the Gideon AI interface with him to the early 2000s. Although he is no longer in that time period, the computer program he brought with him remains active in STAR Laboratories in your time.” Len took a moment to process that before speaking. When he did, he drawled, “The Flash has his own Gideon.” Of course, if anyone were to have an AI from the future it would be the do-gooders of Team Flash and not someone like Len, who would actually use it to its full potential. He snorted. “That’s fitting.”

A Friendly Kidnapping by StillNotGinger10 {G}

After Flashpoint, the Time Bureau decides the timeline is safer without The Flash in it. Now, it's up to The Legends to take Barry out of the timeline so that the Bureau can't wipe him from existence while Team Flash finds a solution. Between babysitting and dealing with bureaucrats, The Legends think they have the easier job. How hard could watching a teenaged Barry Allen be anyway?

Sweet Mistakes by ImaKaraTabiHe, Nixie_DeAngel {T}

Working in a chocolate shop around Valentine's Day is insanely exhausting. Luckily Barry has his favorite customer to cheer him up. Or does he...?

Time in a Bottle by indiepjones46 {E}

AU where Barry saves Len's life from the Oculus explosion and they fall in love.

[keep us together] by Anonymous {M} {T} {G}

Barry Allen discovers he’s the proud parent of a ten year old, but between work and his responsibilities as the Flash, there’s only so many people he can trust to watch her in his absence. He doesn’t expect Leonard Snart to be one of them and he certainly doesn’t expect more.

Timeless by Crimson1 {E}

A voice in the Speed Force reaches Barry in his Timeless state to convince him to come home. Barry misses that voice once he’s back in real-time, but he has to set things right and save as many lives as he can. While that means Iris will be with Eddie instead of him, he can’t mourn her. She’ll always be dear to him, but he wants her to be happy above all, and he has seen every timeline and knows the life and love he will get to have instead. He just needs to keep fighting to finish his calculations in time to defeat Eobard and return to his loved ones for good. Thankfully, a certain thief brings clarity like no one else can. AU season 1 with Barry from pre-season 4.1 returning from the Speed Force to the moment he woke up from his original coma.

You Stole My Heart by Thundersnow {E}

There is a new thief in Central City, someone who can move at extraordinary speeds, and Len can’t help but be intrigued by his new competition . “The name’s Captain Cold. And I’d love to stay and catch up,” Len drawled, stepping away. “But I really have to run. See you around, Kid.” “What? I don’t get a codename?” The speedster muttered and Len noticed a smile on his face. Good. This would be more fun if they were both enjoying the game. “If you want a cool nickname, then you’ve got to earn it, Kid.” Len, knowing he only had another 53 seconds until the ice-like substance around the speedster’s feet became pliable enough for him to break free, turned on his heel and strode out of the building with the diamond necklace in his gloved hand.

Absolute Matchmaker by Crimson1 {M}

Len has been reconnecting with the son he never knew existed ever since Christmas. He doesn’t plan to turn a new leaf but wants to be a good father, the main rule being that Michael stay far away from anything related to Captain Cold. Which would have worked out perfectly if they hadn’t run into Barry Allen. Turns out Barry used to tutor Michael in college and considers him a friend, but the only excuse Len can think of for why he and Barry know each other is that they dated—which on its own would be bad enough, but now Michael is set on getting Barry and Len back together when they were never together in the first place. Meanwhile, a mystery thief is after Michael’s research on absolute zero. The theft might be the perfect excuse to get Len and Barry together, but it also introduces Michael to dangers Len hoped he’d never know firsthand. OR the fake dating, Michael Snart matchmaker AU.

Puns and Plumage: a Tale of a Tail by Alexis_Tenshi {E}

All things considered, Len thinks, getting whammied and ending up sprouting an actual peacock tail isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to him. He’s otherwise fine and everything else seems normal. Though if Mick doesn’t stop laughing at him, Len is going to punch him in the face. And the way Barry is staring at Len is a little odd. Then Barry touches Len’s tail, and oh. Oh.

The Winter Lightning by Mistvalkyrie {E}

A new threat was coming to Central Kingdom and Prince Bartholomew Henry Allen was in need of new alliances to defeat Zoom, so when his most trusted advisors propose an arranged marriage with the coldhearted King Leonard Snart of the Winter Realm he agrees feeling it was his responsibility if he wanted to protect his country and family. Coldflash/Medieval AU with Powers

Cold Reunion by Alexis_Tenshi {E}

After Barry’s mother was killed and father arrested, Barry was placed in an orphanage for metahuman children. Len, another young meta there, befriended him and helped him survive. Once Joe’s application to adopt Barry finally went through, Barry and Len lost contact. But Barry never forgot Len. Years later, Barry became a CSI and Leonard Snart was a powerful mob boss. Barry thought he’d never see Len again, much less become close to him. But then Barry found himself framed for a horrible crime he didn’t commit. Barry didn’t know if Len would remember him, or have any reason to help him. But Barry had no one else to turn to.

Detective Hot (to Trot) by relenafanel {T}

Iris gets a minor crush on Detective Leonard Snart. Joe gets overprotective and points out that the Detective's type is more BARRY than her. Barry's dick emotions take interest.

The Tales of Michael Snart's Kidnappings by Mockingbird_22 {T}

Michael Snart, son of the notorious Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold, gets kidnapped on five separate occasions by Central City's criminals. It's up to The Flash to save him, but Barry might just end up getting more than he bargained for.

in the tired hands of dusk by sugarybowl {M}

The last thing Barry needs on top of all this drama is a hot dad.

An All Too Jagged Snowflake by RedHead {E}

When Leonard and Barry discover that they're Soulmates, they struggle with the many, many issues this causes. It might be easier without the collective difficulties of the Rogues, a meta-gorilla, and the military, but life has never been simple for either of them.

Dirty Little Secret by CallMeHopeless {T}

Leonard Snart loves the television show Doctor Who. Enough that he goes looking for like-minded people on the internet. He finds one person in particular, that he likes and they e-Mail each other.

A Thief and a Prince by ColdSerenity {M}

A thief makes a deal with the king to care for his son, the only problem... That said prince may have stolen the thief's heart.

Dandelion by ColdSerenity {T}

Len has been in love since he was six with Barry, who has no idea he exists... or does he?

Scars and Sweets by Alexis_Tenshi {M}

Barry didn’t believe the ‘survivors with scars’ support group would help, not really. But he went because his mom wanted him to. If his going made her worry about him less, even a little, then it was worth it. If he made a friend or two that could understand some of what he was going through, that was just an unexpected bonus. In the end, he got much more than he had dared hope for.

Hailstorm by Crimson1 {T}

A freak accident caused by a mysterious speedster in blue ignites an explosion of the speed force and Captain Cold's gun, changing The Flash's nemesis and their perspectives on each other forever.

he's my latest accessory (wanna carry him 'round all over town) by RedHead, Swing Set in December {T}

Having a dual identity has never been so frustrating.

A Model Escort by Crimson1 {M}

Barry Allen just got out of a long-term relationship he wants to forget. Lucky for him, his new career in Star City allows him to start over hundreds of miles from his ex. The only problem is...he's lonely and terrible at starting new relationships. He just wishes that part of his life could be easier. Leonard Snart is an escort for Nick of Time Escort Service. He is especially picky about the clients he takes on, but lately, he's felt like something is missing from his life. He doesn't usually take on regulars looking for companionship more than sex, but the right client might be able to change his mind. OR Len is an escort and Barry needs someone to hold him - no powers AU.

"Freeze!" And Other Temperature-Related Puns by flye {G}

The one where Barry and Leonard can't stop pulling cold puns in their banter and before they know it they're full-on flirting with eachother. Who knew the way to a man's heart was cold hard cash puns?

The Dragon Temple by ColdSerenity {M}

Being a Keeper sounds amazing to Barry. You get to care and play with dragons all day. The only risk is if one bonds with you... but he is pretty sure that won't happen. Too bad there is a certain blue-eyed dragon that thinks otherwise.

A/B/O Werewolf Triads by Alexis_Tenshi {E}

Wolves were most content in a triad relationship. The balance between Alpha, Beta, and Omega created mutual happiness for the mated three. But that didn't mean it was easy to find the right people to bond with.

[irresistible] by MissSugarPlum {T}

just to keep me out of trouble

“And you stole his wallet,” Simmons huffs, throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly. “Why am I even surprised?” “I really have no idea,” Len replies absently, drinking in the man’s grinning face in the tiny picture, committing every detail to memory. Bartholomew Allen. What a name, Len thinks wryly to himself.

so you got relationship goals

“So you had enough time to ask some random hot guy out on a date, but not enough to actually get his name?” “...Yes?” Iris looks equal parts impressed and unimpressed. “What am I going to do with you, Barry Allen,” she mutters.

#coldflash #barry allen x leonard snart #captain cold x flash #coldflash fics rec #ongoing list #I need a shorter version because I have way too many bookmarks on AO3 #Love and appreciation to any and all coldflash authors and fanartists!#🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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