#they all look so fucking fine i can’t handle anything else
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i don’t FUCKING THINK you introverted whores will understand what us EXTROVERTED SLUTS GO THROUGH
#tddyhyck brain rot#tddyhyck talks too much#HYUCK LOOKS SO DELISH#hiS hair his mf hair GIVE US FOREHEAD PLS#the crystals in his inner corner i lovE it like makes him sparkle#ANS THE CONTACTS SAUR PRWTTY#HIS NAIL POLISH WITH THE RINGS FINGER ME BITCH PLS#and SUNG#the stars iTs so fucjing pretty#airbrushed him like a goddess#his contacts match his hair 😵💫#and JUN MR RENJUN HWANG RENJUN#he’s so sexy and delectable#the earrings and the pose and thE rings AND HIS HAIR#he’s just a little handsome gentleman who’s also a sexy mf#and jaem#don’t get me started on the denim belt loops at his collar that are perfect for looping a belt through and walking him like a dog#also FOREHEAD TEAMMMM#purple contacts yes god#they all look so fucking fine i can’t handle anything else
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NSFW
Gojo x f!reader
Description:
Satoru and his tendencies of always keeping his hands on you. Even in public, he can't hold back from touching you, so you insist on getting the furthest table at restaurants.
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On a date with Gojo, you always choose to sit at the furthest booth with the dimmest lighting because you know him too well.
“How was your day, baby? I missed you.” He’s right next to you, his hand is already settled on your knee. You know this time won’t be any different than the other times he has taken you out for dinner. Gojo just finds it so pretty the way you jump at the initial contact every time.
“It was fine. You weren’t around so it kind of minimized things that needed to get taken care of.”
He gasps, dramatically. “Wow, that was really something, babe. Did you sharpen your tongue even more for that one?”
You smirk, trying to hold back a laugh.
“I missed you too, though. How was your day?”
His fingers started out massaging your knee, but eventually his hand traveled higher up your leg as his mind began wandering to more sensual thoughts.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you. All I wanted was to come home to my pretty girl and take care of her for the rest of the day.”
You turn to him and smile, leaning in to peck his lips.
“Uh-uh. Come here,” he says when you pull away.
You were irresistible to Gojo. The only fault to you in his mind was that he never got enough of you. Every part of you could be touching him, and he still would feel like he needs more of you. He wants to breathe you in like oxygen, but never let out the breath so that you could stay within him.
“God, I can’t handle you, Satoru.” You say as you’re being suffocated by his lips. He’s kissing your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, but every time he nears your lips the kisses linger in that area.
“I need more of you. Please.”
You giggle at his darkened gaze. You know that look all too well, and it’s not anything to worry about when you’re in public. “You’re obsessed,” you joke.
“And what about it?” He whispers into your ear. His hand smoothly moves to the inside of your thigh, his thumb drawing short lines on your skin. “It’s too easy to love you like a normal person.”
“You love me~” You laugh. You’re making light of this because your heart is beating so fast you fear it might explode.
He scoffs. “Acting like you don’t know this.”
“Sometimes I think you just tolerate me. I don’t want to argue but, you could have anyone, right?”
“It’s not tolerance if i’m choosing to be with you, ma. Trust me,” he leans towards you, his nose brushing yours, “I could stay with you for an eternity. Talking, watching, touching, giving into every one of your pleasures.”
After all this time with Gojo, he still manages to make your heart race. You don’t know what’s gotten into him, but fuck…
“Tell me what you want.” His hand goes up one last time, reaching below your dress to touch the front of your panties. He knew the effect of his words, and yet he still challenged your ability to remain unfazed. You couldn’t, and now he knew by the wetness his fingers made contact with.
“Satoru… we shouldn’t.” You reach down, but not for his hand. You hold the bottom of your dress, your knuckles protruding with the grip.
“There’s no one else here,” he mumbles to you despite there being four full tables in sight. There’s a reason for why you always choose the furthest table, and this is that very reason.
You let out a shuddered breath, your toes curling in your heels.
His middle and ring fingers rub you through the thin material of your panties, gradually making the damp spot bigger.
“Who else is gonna do this for you? Hm?” He tilts his gaze towards you, watching the sweet expression on your face through lidded eyes.
“Satoru, please,” you moan, letting your dress fall over his hand again in favor of holding his bicep.
“I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”
“Okay, fine, fine. But we’re leaving after this.”
Gojo relishes on the breathiness of your voice when you talk.
“I might take my time, then. Just really want to build you up, pretty.”
“Fuck, Satoru. Come on.” You shut your thighs around his hand and start grinding against his fingers.
“I know, I know. You’ll just have to wait for it, baby, right?”
Your breathing quickens and your moans are more frequent. This is Gojo’s favorite part about making you feel good, but what happens when it all gets stripped away from you like this…
“I-I was gonna cum. Satoru, I-“
“And you looked so pretty, so I want you to do it all over again.”
#fanfic#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo fic#jjk#jjk fic#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu sorcerer#gojo smut#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojou satoru x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu smut
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Can you do a bit of arrogant or idk like…. Mean dom Harry teasing you while you suck him off? That would be so good
Oooo… yes I can.
Patreon
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“Said to stick your tongue out.” Harry mumbled, holding her hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand while the other handled his cock. Y/N’s eyes shifted from the dribble of precum on his tip to his eyes, the dark gaze making her want to shiver. “Or did your pretty little head empty out once you saw my cock?”
Harry had an affinity to be the biggest asshole in the world, but Y/N simply couldn’t stop seeing him. Spending her Saturday half annoyed at him as he teased her and make her irritated when they were with her friends -she refuses to say his because she was there first, damn it!- only to end up in his living room on her knees, burning slightly from the carpet underneath. He sat on his armchair, pants pulled to his knees and his cock glistening in her spit from when she had greedily taken him into her mouth. Without asking, of course.
“Hm?” A tug of the hair made her fuzzy vision clear, lips shaped in an ‘o’ before she laid her tongue out flat. Sometimes, time moved slower when she got into this headspace. The good thing about Harry, though, was he wasn’t ever an ass after sex. He had morals, surprisingly, and liked to indulge in this. This was the only time they weren’t at each other’s throats. “Look at that. Baby’s got a brain after all.” His sarcastic coo damped her, her poor panties a waste of fabric at this point.
As much as she hated his arrogance in most scenarios, seeing him like this was something else entirely. Broad, smug, controlled. He likes to watch her submit in the only way she would ever allow. His hand stroked his length a few times in front of her face, that all knowing smirk on his raspberry lips making her want to squirm.
“Y’know, you just had to ruin it. Had to ruin my plans by being greedy. Was planning on kissing on you a bit, getting you in my lap and make you cum on my thigh. Filthy little thing you are, you like working for it but… no.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over the drippy slit of his prick. “No, you apparently are too cock starved from my two weeks away, had to take it down your throat. Couldn’t even do that correctly today either, coughed around it and making a mess before I asked for it.” He shook his head in disappointment, tilting her head further back and tapping the head of his cock over the flat of her tongue.
“Could have just asked. Begged, really. But instead, you got on your knees and took my cock into your slutty little mouth.” He rubbed himself over the wet muscle, groaning lowly as he watched the filthy sight. “Think I didn’t know you’ve been gagging for it all night? Think I didn’t see you shift around and squeeze your thighs when I sat next to you? Pretend to hate me but really, you hate that you can’t just climb on my lap and sit on my cock whenever you want.” He rambled sometimes, a talker during sex, but when Y/N got to have him she didn’t care. Her brain did indeed like to shut off.
“Go ahead. Close those lips around it and suck, but I’m in charge. You want me to fuck your mouth?” His request for consent never wavered, despite her previous discussions of being fine with it. Y/N didn’t have it in her to speak, whining and nodding frantically as she scooted closer on her knees. That was one of her favorite things. Being useful, watching that polished control he has fray around the edges. The release.
“Course you do. Should have known.” he paused for a moment. “You know how to get me to stop.” Gripping her locks, he pushed her down onto his cock. Ignoring the gagging, he used his hand to push her mouth down on him, the wet, nasty sound of her throat being fucked filling his otherwise silent living room. His thighs were spread a bit, his black jeans bunched under his knees as he used her. The silk of her throat and the hot spit dribbling down to his balls, he never had anything better.
“There you go, mama. That’s all you need to calm that fiery temper down, hm? Need my cock in that hot little mouth.” He hissed, pulling her up slightly so her sucking focused on the tip. Tears went down her cheeks from the gagging, but the smear of black mascara down her skin only added to his favorite vision. “Could treat you so, so nice, but you hate that. You want me to use you as a whore, and I aim to please.” He pulled his cock from her mouth, hushing her as she let out a whine. It was true. It weirded her out when he had tried to be gentle during sex.
“Christ… if only our friends knew about you. If they knew that you love to get on your knees for me, after bitching about me all day long. How you beg for me to stuff that sweet little cunt full. Mm, or that ass.” It had been twice, the first times you’d ever done anal but good god, did you like it. Harry was surprisingly gentle for that. “I’ve taken all your holes. So you can sit there and complain that m’an ass, that I’m mean, that I piss you off… but always remember that you’ll end up begging for it at the end of the night.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#Harry smut#harry smut blurbs#Harry fluff#Harry angst#harry styles fanfics#jarofstyles blurb#Harry styles fluff#Harry styles angst
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Cinderblock Garden - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This was a request that I got, but after talking with the person that requested it, I made a few changes and didn't want to use the request in the fic lmao. It's LONG AS FUCK and I've been working on this for four days now. There's a lot in this, from events in Scream 5, leading to New York stuff.
*to the sweet soul that requested this, I hope things are a little better for you now, and I hope you like this and that it was worth the wait lmao*
This contains SMUT -Minors DNI
Summary: You're the child of Gale and Dewey, and after losing your dad and almost dying yourself, you struggle with day to day life. When you meet Ethan, he just wants you to let him in, but after your ex, Amber, tried to kill you, you struggle to do that.
Contains: Over 10k words, jesus. Angst, mentions of death, mental health struggles, some fluffy smut tbh. Virgin!Ethan and Virgin!Reader -p in v, oral(f recieving).
A/N: In this fic, Ethan is simply Ethan Landry and has no relation to Richie.
When your parents split, you had the option to move to New York with your mom, Gale, or stay in Woodsboro with your dad, Dewey. You decided to stay with your dad because your mom’s main priority was always her career. Even when you’d go out to visit her every now and then, she’d never take any time off, always leaving you alone in her condo. You couldn’t stand her new boyfriend, either. You hated how quickly she could just move on from your dad when he still loved her so much.
You had your doubts about love after watching your parents’ marriage fall apart, until you met Amber. It started off as a friendship, the perfect distraction from your less than perfect home life. Especially when your dad started drinking, she was always there. You realized that you had feelings, she did, too. Everyone else in the friend group was a little surprised by it, but they were all very accepting of it, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy.
When Tara got attacked, your dad wanted to put you on the first plane to New York. Your mom agreed with him, but you refused. You weren’t going to leave your best friend while she recovered, and you really didn’t want to leave Amber.
“Please, this is what’s best for you,” your dad said, pleading with you to get out of Woodsboro. “You’re the child of two people that have been through this several times. If they went after Tara, they’ll probably come after you. I can’t let that happen.”
You sighed, noticing the whisky bottle in his hand. “You put me through so many self defense classes…I think I can handle myself.”
“I was the sheriff, with far more training than you’ve had. I’ve been stabbed several times…you’re not invincible.”
“I’m not saying I am. If I really am a target, don’t you think they’d find me regardless of if I’m in Woodsboro or not?” you questioned, as he took a swig out of the bottle. “I’m safer here with you.”
He sighed, looking over to you. “Fine, but the tracking app on your phone…if you turn it off so I can’t find you, you’re going to New York. If you don’t come straight home after school, you’re going to New York. If you have a run-in with Ghostface-“
“I’m going to New York. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to do anything other than go to school or be here?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to lose you,” he said, his tone stern.
“Okay, but what happens when you’re at the bar getting wasted and I’m here by myself? Isn’t it safer to have people around me?” You didn’t expect your question to come out as harshly as it did, his face wincing as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“No, you’re right. I’ll be home more, I promise,” he said, feeling guilty for making you doubt him. “Just…if you do go out with your friends, please be smart about it. Someone you’re close to is probably a part of this…just remember that. And I meant what I said about the phone tracker.”
You nodded, as he pulled you into a side hug. “Your mom is probably coming out here, just so you know.”
“Ugh,” you groaned, “The boyfriend isn’t coming with her, right?”
“I don’t know. I hope not,” he sighed, the sadness in his voice obvious. “You better get to school.”
Everyone in your friend group was on edge. Tara was alive, but her condition wasn’t great. As you joined your friends at the picnic tables outside, Amber wrapped her arm around you.
“Hey, babe,” she said, “Did you get questioned, too?”
“Yeah, I was interrogated for all of five minutes. I guess that’s the perk of being a former sheriff’s kid,” you said, as Wes looked over to you.
“How is your dad? We haven’t seen him in a while,” he asked, as you shrugged.
“He’s still the same. He tried to convince me to go to New York after what happened last night,” you sighed, as Wes gave you a confused look.
“If you had the chance to get far away from here, why the fuck wouldn’t you take it?” he asked, the paranoia that his mom instilled in him apparent as you just looked at him.
“I’m not leaving Tara…or you guys. It’s better to have more people here if this is going to be another huge thing like it’s been before.”
“Yeah, but is it a safety in numbers thing, or will it just add to the body count if you stay?” Mindy asked, as Chad sighed.
“Seriously? We’re all freaked out enough,” he said, as Wes’ phone dinged in his pocket.
“Hey guys, Tara just woke up.”
When everyone got up to leave, you looked around at your friends, thinking back to what your dad said. You saw them all in such a positive light that you couldn’t even begin to suspect any of them.
Once you made it to the hospital, Tara was so happy to see everyone. Or it could’ve been all the pain meds she was on. You sat down at the foot of her bed as she sleepily smiled.
“How are you feeling?” you asked, starting to tear up as you looked at her.
“I’m okay, still shaken up, though,” she sighed, “They have police protection for me, but you guys need to be careful.”
“We’ll be fine,” Amber said knowingly as Tara smiled.
Then you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years walk into the hospital room, with whom you assumed to be her boyfriend when he called her ‘babe’.
“Hey, this is Richie,” Sam said, introducing him as he awkwardly waved.
He gave you the creeps from the start. You couldn’t shake the thought from your mind that he was guilty of something, but your parents always told you that you needed to be cautious of everyone.
“Hey, can I talk to Sam alone?” Tara asked, as everyone nodded. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
“Of course, we’ll be back tomorrow,” you said, standing up to leave.
When you made it out to the hallway, you checked the time and saw a few missed calls from your dad.
“Fuck, I need to get home,” you said, typing a text to him before putting your phone back in your pocket.
“We were going to go have some fun, though,” Amber said, “Is this how it’s going to be? Ghostface comes back and I don’t get to spend time with my girlfriend?”
“You really won’t spend any time with me if I get sent to New York,” you said, as you hopped on the elevator with everyone.
“This is annoying,” she huffed, “Wes is allowed to go out with us, and you know how his mom is.”
“Hey,” Wes said, “I have a taser and pepper spray, I’m good to go.”
“And I’ve got these hands, but dad doesn’t think that’s good enough,” you laughed, as you made it to the bottom floor. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Your dad was a little annoyed when you got home, but he was just happy to know you were safe. As much as he hated your decision to stay in Woodsboro, he thought you were a pretty good judge of character and you always paid close attention to your surroundings.
Things just kept getting crazier. When Wes and Judy were killed, you and your dad ran into Sam at the crime scene. You were making small talk with her, when she nudged her head in the direction behind you.
“Isn’t that your mom?” she asked, as you turned around.
You noticed she had a camera crew with her, as you felt anger start to build up. Your dad went over to talk to her, as she kept peaking around him to look at you.
“Typical. Something happens in Woodsboro and she has to get the fucking story on it,” you said to Sam.
She was about to respond when she noticed the cop that was supposed to be watching Tara’s room standing outside of the Hick’s house.
“Who’s with my sister?” She questioned as he looked at her, confused.
She started to yell, getting your dad’s attention as he ran back over to you, your mom hot on his heels.
“I need to get to Tara,” Sam said, running towards her car.
“I’m coming with you,” you said, following her.
“I don’t think so,” Gale said, “You’re staying here, around people so you’ll be safe.”
You scoffed as you turned to look at her, “So now you decide you want to be a parent?”
She was taken aback at your words, as your dad stepped in. “I’ll go, too. She’ll be safe.”
He hopped in the passenger’s seat as you got in the back, your mom just standing there in shock as the three of you sped off.
“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” Dewey scolded, as he noticed Sam’s high rate of speed. “and you should probably slow down.”
“Tara’s by herself. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Sam snapped, as she turned onto the road that led to the hospital. “Richie’s on his way, I hope someone gets there in time.”
She got out her phone to call Richie, as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was frantic when she realized the call was picked up, but she was terrified once she heard Ghostface’s voice. She stopped the car as she talked, quickly jumping out with you and your dad as you ran inside of the hospital to the elevator to get to Tara’s private floor.
She just kept talking to the killer as you and your dad silently stood beside her. He pulled out his gun, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they did, he fired a shot, the loud bang making you jump. The masked person scurried away, when everyone piled out of the elevator to save Tara and Richie.
“Tara!” you screamed, running up to her. Your dad ran to Richie as you and Sam helped Tara off the floor.
Your best friend was very emotional and shaken up as her sister hugged her, but you were still on edge. You had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.
Then, you saw Ghostface charge towards Richie and your dad. You grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and ran towards the figure that was trying to attack your dad. You hit the person over the head, but you felt a sharp, burning pain in your side as you did. Your dad was able to fight back thanks to your distraction, getting in a few shots as Ghostface fell through the glass case against the hallway wall.
“Fuck,” you cried, holding your wound. Your dad’s arms wrapped around you as he walked you towards the elevator, when Richie walked over to help.
“Thanks,” Dewey said, as he walked you inside. “Shit, I didn’t shoot him in the head.”
“Does that really matter right now?” you asked, as he nodded. He stepped back out of the elevator, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, doubled over. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to finish this,” he said, as you craned your neck to look at him.
“Dad, no. You can’t do that!” you cried, as he started to walk down the hall.
“I need to make sure you’re safe. This is how I can do that,” he paused, “I love you.”
As soon as those elevator doors closed, you started screaming, begging to go back to your dad. Sam wouldn’t let that happen. She just kept trying to assure you that he’d be okay, and that you and Tara both needed medical attention.
He wasn’t okay, though. You soon learned what happened to your dad when your mom somberly walked into the hospital room, her sad eyes meeting yours. To say you were emotionally destroyed would’ve been an understatement. You expected your mom to be a little more comforting, and she was trying, but she seemed more interested in getting details on any new leads the detectives might’ve had.
For safety reasons, they moved Tara to the same room as you, making it easier for the police to keep an eye on the both of you.
“She’s really starting to piss me off,” you sighed, as Tara looked over at you. “I’m in here, absolutely fucking devastated, and she’d rather talk to the cops.”
“Maybe she’s just trying to do what she can to keep you safe,” she suggested, “Have you heard from Amber?”
“Yeah, she’s having a party for Wes tonight. Not that you and I will be attending,” you laughed a little, as she smiled.
“Sam wants to get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t know where she wants to go, but she just wants us to be somewhere safe.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…maybe I’ll sneak out of here with you guys,” you said, half-joking as Tara started to nod.
“If your mom’s distracted, and the cops are busy talking to her anyway, we could sneak you out.”
“Fuck it, let’s do it.”
Your mom walked back in the room, looking back and forth between you and Tara.
“Do what?” she questioned, as you glanced back over to your friend.
“Oh, um, we were talking about college. We’re both going to apply to Blackmore,” you lied, as your mom started to smile.
“Are you warming up to the idea of New York?” she asked, as you shook your head.
“Not at all, but I want my best friend there with me,” you said, a defeated look appearing on her face.
“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”
After the police finished questioning Richie and Sam for the second time of the day, they joined you, your mom, and Tara in the room. Sidney walked in not long after, a sad smile on her face as she saw you in the hospital bed.
“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, walking over to you, “I’m so sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks, Sid,” you said softly, “How are the kids?”
She smiled at you, “They’re fine. They’re somewhere safe.”
“I wish I was somewhere safe,” you joked, as your mom rolled her eyes.
“You had the chance to come to New York,” she sighed, “If you would’ve just listened to me and your dad then maybe we wouldn’t be in here right now.”
“What, and dad wouldn’t be dead, too?” you snapped, looking towards her.
“I didn’t say that…this whole ‘you hating me’ thing isn’t going to work. We need to be there for each other.”
You were about to respond when a detective came in to talk to your mom. She stepped out with Sidney, walking to the next hallway over so you wouldn’t hear the conversation.
“Now’s our chance,” Tara said, as Sam looked between you two, confused.
“Chance for what?”
“We’re sneaking her out with us,” Tara said, wincing as she pulled her IV out.
“What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t been discharged yet,” Sam sighed, looking over to see you doing the same. “I’m not kidnapping you, I’m sorry.”
“Look, we want to be somewhere safe. She isn’t going to be safe if she stays here and we go. Her mom’s barely paid attention to her since we’ve been in here…if you want me to go, she’s going too,” Tara said, as Sam sighed, looking over to Richie. He shrugged, walking over to the door to peak out.
“No cops, no Gale,” he said, as Sam rolled her eyes.
“Fuck it, fine. You both better hurry up though.”
You did as Sam said, the both of you quickly changing before sneaking past the nurses’ station towards the exit.
After your mom and Sidney finished talking to a detective in the next hall over, she came back to see your bed empty. She started to panic, noticing your IV line resting on top of the bed and most of your stuff gone. She looked over to the other side of the room, realizing that Tara was gone, too.
“Excuse me, where did they take my daughter?” Gale asked one of the nurses that’d passed by the doorway.
He grabbed an iPad off the nurse’s station, trying to pull you up. “She doesn’t have any testing or anything scheduled…she’s not in her room?” He craned his neck to peak around, noticing the empty bed.
“She’s a minor, isn’t there some kind of alert you guys have for this?!” She yelled, as the nurse nodded.
“I’ll take care of that right away.”
It didn’t matter, though. You’d already made it out of the hospital by the time the code was called.
“Where do you think she went?” Sydney asked, as your mom tried to rack her brain.
“I’m not the mom of the year, okay? I barely know her anymore,” she sighed, as Sidney sympathetically smiled at her.
“Whatever happened, now that Dewey’s gone, you’re going to have to fix that relationship,” she said, as your mom nodded. “She’s a good kid.”
“I know, I just hope she’s okay.”
When you were in the back seat with Tara, her asthma was flaring up as she tried to find her inhaler.
“Fuck, I don’t have it,” she panicked, as Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Can you wait until we’re in the next town?” she asked, as Richie glanced back to see Tara’s breathing getting worse.
“No…this is getting bad,” you said, trying to search Tara’s purse again. “Do you still have the spare one at Ambers?”
“Yeah, Sam, we need to go to Amber’s,” Tara said, as Sam shook her head.
“I don’t think so,” she said, her lack of understanding for how bad the situation was starting to piss you off.
“She’s going to be dead by the time we get to the next fucking town. Go to Amber’s,” you yelled, as Sam hesitantly nodded. “Turn left up here.”
As your mom and Sidney searched around the hospital hoping to find you, she remembered the app Dewey put on your phone so he’d always know where you were. He gave her the log-in too just in case she ever needed it. She quickly pulled her phone out, checking to see what your location was as Sidney looked at her.
“She’s not even here,” Gale said, as she and Sidney bolted towards the exit.
Once they made it in the car and started to drive, your mom was looking at the tracking app, noticing that you’d stopped.
“Turner Lane, why does that sound so familiar?” she asked, as Sidney’s eyes grew wide.
“Please don’t tell me that’s where she is,” Sidney said, pressing the gas a little harder, “Stu Macher used to live on Turner Lane.”
“Oh fuck,” Gale said, as she tried to call you.
Your phone was on silent in your pocket as you went up to Amber’s room. The party downstairs was in full swing as you tried to help your girlfriend search for Tara’s inhaler.
“Are you okay?” Amber asked, “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you sighed, thinking about him as you dug through a box on top of Amber’s dresser. “Found it!” you held up the inhaler as she smiled.
“Can you please call me when you make it to wherever you’re going so I know you’re safe, please?” she asked, as she stepped towards you.
“Yeah, I just need to get the fuck away from my mom for a few days.”
She nodded in understanding as you ran out of her room, down the stairs to find Tara.
“Stupid bitch,” Amber muttered, once she knew you couldn’t hear her.
After you gave Tara her inhaler, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to see twenty missed calls from your mom.
“Jesus, someone’s freaking out,” you said, showing Tara the screen.
“Maybe you should call her back. Just let her know you’re okay.”
“Fine,” you sighed, but before you had the chance to call her, she was calling you again.
You answered, “Hey mom, I’m fine-“
“You need to get the fuck out of that house right now!” she yelled, the second she heard your voice.
“How do you know where I am?” you questioned, annoyance in your tone as she started to yell again.
“You’re in Stu Macher’s house,” your heart started to race as you looked over to Sam, Tara, and Richie. You’d heard that name many times before. You started to look around, thinking about how the party at his house was the finale of the first Woodsboro Massacre where your dad was stabbed.
“We need to get out of here, right now,” you said to them, as Richie started to smirk.
“Did someone finally figure it out?” he asked, the psychotic excitement in his voice making your skin crawl.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, jumping as you heard a gunshot coming from the living room, accompanied by several screams. “What the fuck is going on?”
Sam and Tara started to back away from Richie as you looked at him.
“God, you know, you guys really are the perfect victims. Serial killer dad,” he said, looking to Sam, “oblivious little sister,” he said to Tara, before turning to you, “and the child of the sheriff that tried to take down Billy and Stu. It’s hilarious. You get to die where he should’ve.”
“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, as he started to step towards you.
“You want to know what the best part of this whole little fucked up scenario is, though?” he asked, as Amber walked into the room. “I’ve been fucking your girlfriend.” Sam glanced over to you, the obvious look of disgust and betrayal painted on both of your faces.
Your mouth dropped as you looked over to Amber. “Sorry, baby,” she said, so nonchalantly that your blood was starting to boil. You shook your head as you thought back to your dad telling you that you probably knew who was responsible for everything.
“Did you kill my dad?” you asked Amber as she shrugged, muttering “Maybe,” as you stepped towards her.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Richie said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at you as Sam and Tara started to back away, looking at you. You nodded towards the side door as Amber walked up to kiss Richie.
While they were distracted, you glanced along the counters to see if there was anything you could use that would be helpful. You saw the knife block, and as the rage started to build up even more towards Amber for stabbing you and killing your dad.
You subtly grabbed a knife from behind you, and started to step towards them as you held it firmly in your hand behind your back.
“Where did the other two go?” Amber asked, pulling away from Richie as he turned around to look.
“I’ll go find them,” he said, waving his knife around. “Don’t try anything. She doesn’t love you enough to save you.”
As soon as he walked away, you looked at Amber. “Is that true? You don’t love me enough to save me?”
“I never fucking loved you. God, I only wanted to get close to you and your friends. It amazes me how stupid you are,” she scoffed, as you stepped even closer, “What are you going to do? I was stronger than your dad, you dumb bitch. Do you really think you’re going to win in a fight against me?”
“I don’t need to be stronger than you,” you smiled, “Because you’re the one that doesn’t have a knife right now.”
As soon as you pulled the knife from behind your back, she darted towards the gun on the kitchen island. You were quicker though, stabbing her before she was able to grab it. She dropped to her knees as she held her stomach. In that moment, she looked weak and helpless. You couldn’t shake the thought that she had your dad feeling that way when she killed him.
“Baby, why would you do that?” she asked, her psychotic eyes pleading with yours.
You looked down at her, the fury in your eyes obvious as she tried to plead with you.
“How the fuck could you do this to me? To my fucking dad?!”
“Oh, please. You knew he was a shitty dad,” she scoffed, before whining again at the pain she was feeling. “I got him good, too. I just wish you could’ve seen it.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you screamed, as you stabbed her again.
Richie ran back in the room with Tara and Sam, noticing Amber on the floor and the large, bloody knife in your hand. You started to run towards him, thinking you could finish all of this. You didn’t though, because as soon as you made it to Richie, he plunged his knife into your stomach several times.
“No!” Tara screamed, as you dropped to the floor, blood immediately pooling beside you on the floor. You heard Tara’s cries as your vision started to get fuzzy.
“You really thought you were going to do something with that, didn’t you?” Richie laughed, “I’m sure your mom will be here soon, and you’ll get to be with both of your parents after I’m finished with her. Now’s a good time to thank me.”
“Fuck you,” you said weakly, as you started to lose consciousness.
“Oh, look at all that blood,” was the last thing you heard before blacking out.
You woke up in the hospital several days later with your mom and Sidney sitting beside your bed. You groaned as your eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.
“Hey,” your mom said, “They weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”
“Lights,” you choked out, your voice raw.
“Try not to talk a lot, okay?” Sidney said, as she got up to flip the switch. “You almost didn’t pull through. They had to intubate you for surgery.”
You laid there in silence for a few minutes, like your brain was trying to process everything that happened. The heart rate monitor started to beep faster as you thought about your dad and the rest of your friends. Your breathing got heavier, as you started to shake your tingling hands.
Your mom went out to grab a nurse, who rushed in to check on you.
“Let’s give you something to help you calm down,” she said, pulling out a syringe. She injected medication into your IV as you tried to take deep breaths in comparison to the shallow ones you kept sucking in.
“What’s going on?” your mom asked, as the nurse turned to look at her.
“She’s having a panic attack. It’s normal after trauma like what she went through,” she said, before turning to you, “Would you like some water?”
You nodded, as she stepped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with your water and one of the doctors.
“We’re going to suggest lots of therapy,” the doctor said, as she looked over at your dazed expression from the meds. “Physical and mental. It’s going to be a long road, just be patient with her.”
“I’m going to take her back to New York with me. If you have any recommendations for doctors out there, I’d appreciate it,” Your mom said, as the doctor nodded.
“I’ll be right back.”
As you sipped the water, it started to soothe your dry, irritated throat. After the doctor walked back in with the list of doctors in New York, you tried to speak.
“Tara?” you got out, as your mom smiled.
“She’s okay. Sam is too.”
“Chad and Mindy?”
“They’re okay. Chad was a little touch and go at first, too. He’s in the next room over,” she said, as you started to smile.
You were devastated about your dad and Wes but knowing that most of your friends survived gave you an ounce of hope that everything would be okay.
Once you’d healed enough to leave the hospital, you had a tearful goodbye with everyone as you prepared to go to New York.
“I hope you were serious about Blackmore…we all kind of applied,” Tara said, as Mindy nodded.
“Seriously? That would be so cool,” you said, smiling. “I’d love to have you guys close by.”
Your mom stood by and watched as Sam walked up to talk to her.
“I know Tara will most likely get in, she’s a smart one,” Sam said, with a small laugh. “If you can think of any safe areas for us to live, let me know.”
“You’d be coming with her?” your mom asked, as Sam nodded.
“I’m never letting her out of my sight,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, with Dewey. If it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the attack at the hospital.”
“Thank you…I’m just sad he won’t get to see all the great things I know she’s going to do with her life.”
After a few months of living in New York, you started to get adjusted. You had physical therapy three times a week and had to see your psychiatrist at least once a week, but you felt like you were starting to find yourself again, aside from struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Your mom’s boyfriend, Brooks, was even starting to piss you off a little less. You’d had several conversations with him about your dad, and he was trying to step up. He didn’t want to take your dad’s place by any means, but he was trying so hard to be a trusted male figure in your life, aside from Chad, who was still on the opposite side of the country.
On your eighteenth birthday, Tara FaceTimed you. You were smiling so big when you saw all of your friends, their own version of a surprise party making your heart swell. That’s the day they told you they all got into Blackmore, and you started to count down the days.
“Mom, don’t you think I should get the full college experience?” you sighed, as she rolled her eyes.
“You’re not staying in a dorm, and that’s final,” she said, as you glanced over to Brooks.
“I can’t help you with this one. You know your mom has her mind made up,” he said, as he leaned against the kitchen island.
“Whatever,” you huffed, walking towards your room.
Your mom and Brooks just looked at each other as she sighed in defeat.
“She might be annoyed with you right now, but she’ll get over it,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.
“I hope so, I’m getting sick of all the teen angst,” she said, laughing a little.
“How’s her therapy been?”
“She said it’s going well. They’ve really been unpacking the Amber stuff…I just hope she’s able to trust someone again someday.”
“She will.”
Once your friends made it to New York, your mom let you go out and explore the city for the first time without her. She was nervous, regularly checking her phone just to make sure you were okay. She knew your therapy sessions were helping, but you still had your panic attacks and your body wasn’t the strongest yet.
As you walked along the sidewalk with your friends, Chad noticed a comic book store a little further up the street.
“Can we check that out?” he asked, as you nodded.
“This is the same dorky shit you did in Woodsboro. Don’t you want to do something else?” Mindy asked, as her brother scoffed.
“Nope. I’ve already gone into three different clothing stores with you guys AND found my perfect foundation match while you guys were shopping for makeup. You owe me,” he said, making you and Tara laugh.
“Fine, let’s go,” Tara said, before turning to look at you. “Let me know whenever you need to sit down, okay?”
“I will. Let’s get food after this. I can rest while we eat,” you said, as Tara nodded.
When you walked inside, you all went your separate ways as you started to browse around the store. Chad was in heaven, while everyone else was just there to kill the time. As you were walking along one of the rows, you started to get one of your reoccurring abdominal cramps from where you were stabbed. You leaned over, holding your stomach as you tried to breathe through it.
“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a male voice speaking to you, as you groaned out a “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” he said softly, as he squatted to talk to you. “Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”
“I promise I’m okay. Just a bad cramp.”
You soon heard Tara mumble “Oh shit” as she and Mindy ran up to you.
“What happened?” Mindy asked, looking over to the boy.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I just saw her doubled over like this.”
The pain started to ease up, as you tried to stand back up.
“Fuck, that was a bad one,” you sighed, as your eyes connected to the person that was trying to help you.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking you over. You couldn’t form words after you saw him. He was your type, and his sweet, shy demeanor was just a plus. Mindy and Tara noticed you checking him out as he kept staring at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”
“Hey,” you finally spoke, as Tara and Mindy inched away from you so you could talk to him. “Thanks for trying to help.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, as he started to flip through some of the comic books. “Do you go to Blackmore?”
“I’m about to,” you said, as he turned to you and smiled.
“You’re a freshman, too?”
“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I have all my hometown friends with me, so I know it’ll be fun,” you said, as you started to point them out.
“Chad? That’s what my roommate’s name is,” he said, looking towards him. “Wait, that’s him!”
“Oh, small world,” you said, “Hey, Chad!”
He turned around, smiling when he noticed his new roommate standing there.
“Dude, I didn’t know you were into stuff like this!” Chad said, as he walked up.
“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a dork, I guess,” Ethan laughed, as they started to geek out over stuff they’d found.
“How do you two know each other?” Chad asked curiously, as Ethan smiled.
“I just met her. She seems cool,” he said, “Have you guys been friends for a long time?”
“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. We grew up in this crazy, fucked up little town,” Chad said, as your eyes got wide.
“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, trying to play it off as Chad looked at you in disbelief.
“Yeah, Woodsboro was a walk in the park,” Chad said sarcastically, as you tried to change the subject.
“Can we go get food soon? I’m starving,” you said, as Chad nodded.
“Sure. Ethan, you want to go to lunch with us?”
“I wish I could, but I have to run by the book store. Maybe some other time, but I’ll see you later,” he said to Chad, before smiling at you. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
“I hope so,” you said, your tone flirty as Chad looked between the two of you.
Ethan walked up to the counter to pay for his stuff, as Chad turned to you.
“What was that all about?” he asked, as you jokingly glared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot roommate?!”
After that day, Chad made it his personal mission to get to know Ethan as well as he could, because he didn’t want you to go through another traumatic relationship. Once he realized that Ethan truly was this shy, dorky guy, he started to bring him around the friend group. The two of you immediately hit it off, and he loved to spend time with you.
Once the relationship started to get a little more serious, he began asking about Woodsboro. After that day at the comic book store, he did his research, but he still had so many questions. He knew you were hurt in some way, because of all the appointments you had, and the random sharp cramps you’d get from time to time. He noticed that you’d always try to push through pain, and he just wanted to have a better understanding of everything.
The last thing you wanted to do was think about what’d happened the year before, let alone talk about it. You had several insecurities about yourself, the scars all over your abdomen being one of the major ones. But you hated feeling weak. You hated that you were struggling to keep up with the high energy your friends and boyfriend had. You hated feeling like you just slowed everyone down.
Ethan didn’t care, though. He was always comforting and okay with taking breaks, or even cutting a date night short if you started to get anxious. He knew he loved you, but he was too shy to say it. He didn’t want to pour his heart out and you say it’s something you weren’t ready for yet.
Your mom was a little skeptical of Ethan. It wasn’t that he’d given her a reason to be, she just wanted you to always be cautious, especially after your last relationship. It got to the point where you’d have to sneak Ethan over whenever your mom and Brooks weren’t home.
“Hey, baby,” Ethan said, as you opened the front door.
“Hi,” you smiled, as he leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s go to my room.”
What was supposed to be the two of you just hanging out led to him on top of you on your bed, your hands in his hair as he kissed you. Your shirt was starting to inch up, his hand roaming over your stomach when you pushed him away.
“Stop,” you said, once you noticed him leaning back down to kiss you again.
“What did I do?” he asked, as you scooted away from him. “Baby, I don’t want to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t want you touching me like that,” you said, your eyes not meeting his as he tried to understand.
“You’re my girlfriend…this is what people in relationships do,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “If you’re not ready for sex, that’s fine. I just don’t get what the big deal is with me touching you. You never talk to me about it.”
“I think you should go,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, standing up. “You just keep shutting down whenever there’s something we need to talk about. You’re so secretive about what you’ve been through. I feel like I barely know anything about you.”
“Are you saying you want to break up?” you asked, your eyes watering as he shook his head.
“No, babe. I care about you so much…but you don’t trust me. I know something horrible happened to you in Woodsboro, and all I want is to be the supportive boyfriend that you deserve, but I can’t be that for you when you won’t talk to me. I’ve even tried to ask Chad, just so I understand, but he’ll only talk about what happened to him.”
“So, you’ve been trying to get stuff out of Chad because I won’t tell you about it?” you questioned, the pissed expression on your face making him tense up. “I’m not ready to talk to you!”
“Call me when you are,” he said, walking towards your bedroom door.
You felt a panic attack creeping up the second he walked out. You grabbed your anxiety medication and took a pill out, hoping that it would kick in soon. Your hands were shaky as you tried to take it, the water you were trying to drink spilling all over your shirt.
“Fuck,” you muttered, your breathing heavy as you jumped up to grab another shirt to change into.
The second you got the wet one off, Ethan walked back in the room.
“I forgot my phone,” he mumbled, before he saw you. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scars all over your abdomen, feeling sick to his stomach that someone could ever do something like that to you. “Baby…”
“Get the fuck out!” you screamed, as he scrambled to grab his phone off your bedside table. “Now, Ethan! Go!”
You quickly pulled the dry shirt over your head, as he glanced back over to you once more. You were sobbing as he tried to step closer, wanting to comfort you.
“Don’t come near me, Ethan! Go!” you yelled again, as he hesitantly turned around and walked out.
You followed him to the front door, slamming it behind him. You put your back against the door before sliding down it, as you pulled your knees to your chest as you cried.
When your mom got home later in the day to take you to your psychiatrist, you didn’t feel like going. You were still upset from the situation with Ethan earlier in the day, so once she started to argue with you that you needed to go, it got explosive.
“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been making such good progress!” your mom yelled, as you started to pace the floor.
“What’s wrong with me?! I was almost killed, mom! I have these fucking scars all over me that remind me of what I went through every fucking day!” you screamed, as tears started to run down your cheeks. “I have a great boyfriend, someone who really cares about me, and I can’t fucking trust him because of what Amber did to me! Then, he saw my scars earlier and looked at me like I was a fucking victim and I’m sick of feeling that way!”
“Wait, how did he see your scars? What have you been doing when I’m not here?” she questioned, as you stopped your pacing.
“That’s what you took from all that I just said?!” You asked, as Brooks walked in. “I’m not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to, though! I want to be able to trust Ethan enough to do that, but I’m too fucked up for that to happen!”
Your mom just looked at you as Brooks tried to calm you down.
“Hey, I know this is none of my business, and I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong…but have you talked to your therapist about Ethan?”
“Not really. He’s only come up a few times,” you sighed, wiping your tears. “I was hoping I could work through things with him on my own, but I still haven’t told him anything that happened. He’s trying so hard, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“That kid really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about the best way to open up to him,” he said, as you nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like everyone that comes in your life is going to do what Amber did to you.”
Your mom smiled at the interaction, loving how close you were getting to him. His calm demeanor helped so much in diffusing your anxiety.
“Can we still make it to my appointment in time? Or is it too late?” you asked your mom, as she pulled out her phone to check the time.
“We can still make it, we need to leave right now, though.”
“You two get out of here, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back,” Brooks said, pulling you into a side hug as he walked you towards the door.
During your appointment, your doctor recommended that you take a week off from school, just to focus on your mental health. Your professors were very understanding, you just hoped your boyfriend would be, too. You needed to clear your head as you tried to think of the best way to unpack all the trauma with him. You decided to leave your phone off, only turning it on every now and then to let Tara know you were okay.
Ethan was freaking out. When all his calls went straight to voicemail, and you stopped coming to school, he started to think the worst. He knew that you were upset with him, and he felt awful that him seeing you without a shirt affected you as much as he did. Regardless of the scars, he still thought you were beautiful. He finally brought it up to the rest of the friend group and was relieved when Tara said that you were okay.
That’s when he thought about doing something sweet for you. He wanted you to feel better, and he desperately wanted you to forgive him. He went to the mall with Chad, wanting to find some of your favorite things to bring to you.
“What about this?” Chad said, as he walked with Ethan through the party store. Ethan wanted to find you the sweetest card to go with the things he’d bought you, but Chad had other ideas when he pointed to a huge balloon. Ethan rolled his eyes as he looked over to Chad. “What? I don’t think anything says ‘I love you’ like a massive balloon that literally says ‘I love you’.”
“Dude, I don’t want this to be cheesy. I want her to know how I feel without making her cringe,” Ethan said, “Do you think she’ll even answer the door when I try to take this stuff to her?”
“I can’t say for sure. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week.”
“At lease she talks to Tara, so we know she’s alright.”
Ethan was nervous as he walked into the elevator and selected the floor that your mom’s condo was on. He knew your mom and her boyfriend’s work schedule from the times you’d invited him over, so he knew you should be home alone, if you’d even open the door for him.
He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before knocking. After a few minutes of you not answering, he sat the stuff outside of the door, hoping you’d want to talk after you eventually saw it. He went back to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting for it to come back to the floor he was currently on.
Once the door opened, he saw you standing there.
“Ethan? What are you doing here?” you asked, as he stepped to the side for you to walk off the elevator.
“Oh, uh, I just dropped some stuff off for you. It’s in front of the door,” he said shyly, as you smiled at him.
“That’s really sweet, Ethan. I was actually going to call you and ask if you wanted to come over. I just left therapy, and I’m in a good head space right now. I think I’m ready to talk,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s a little heavy, and I might not go too far into detail, but I want you to know some of what I went through.”
“I’m here to listen,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand as you walked towards the door.
“Aww, this is so cute!” you squealed, looking down at the basket before you unlocked the door. You were about to bend down to grab it before he beat you to it. “Thanks, babe.”
You walked with him to your room, noticing the card. You grabbed it out of the basket as soon as he sat it down, but he took it from you before you could open it.
“Hey!” you laughed, trying to take it back from him.
“This card has some things in it that are important, but not as important as you telling me what you need to tell me,” he said, smiling as he sat it back in the basket. “You can read this after we talk, deal?”
“Deal,” you said, flopping back on your bed as he laid down beside you.
You both stared at the ceiling as he waited for you to start talking, but you didn’t know where you wanted to start. You were almost scared of what he’d think after you told him everything, but you knew in your heart that he’d still care about you regardless.
“So…I know I told you about my dad dying. He was killed last year when my ex and the guy she was cheating on me with went on a killing spree,” you said, as he sat up on his elbows to look at you as you spoke. “She killed my dad after she stabbed me. Her boyfriend really did the most damage to me though. I’ve been really self-conscious about all the scars I have. That’s why I stop you whenever things start to get a little handsy.”
He stayed silent for a minute, just soaking in all the information you’d told him. He was furious that anyone would ever hurt you, but he was hiding it well.
“It’s no wonder you’ve been a little hesitant to trust me,” he sighed, looking back at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really thought you were done with me after you yelled at me like that and didn’t want to talk to me.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I just wanted to get my feelings and my thoughts together. I knew I needed to open up to you, especially after you saw everything.”
“I just wanted to understand, you know? You’ve just been so vague about everything. I’m happy you’re opening up,” he said, laying back down. “I’m sorry if you ever felt pressure about the sex stuff, too. I promise you that’s not what I was trying to do, and I’d wait forever if I needed to.”
“I don’t think we need to wait forever,” you said, rolling over to your side to look at him. “I’m ready now, actually.”
He curiously looked at you, before he started to shake his head.
“Baby, I want you to fully trust me before we do anything like that.”
“I just gave you the short version of everything that caused my trauma. I trust you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.
He kissed you back, the sweetness of it making your heart swell, like you knew he was the person you were meant to lose your virginity to. Once the kiss got more intense and your hand started to run under his shirt, he gently pushed your hand away.
“Wait, I need you to read the card,” he said, before you connected your lips to his again.
“Right now?” you asked, pulling away.
“Please. You’ll want to read it before we do this.”
You slid off the side of the bed and walked over to the basket and grabbed the card. Ethan wasn’t nervous at all as you sat down beside him and opened the envelope that contained his true feelings for you. He knew if you were ready for sex and felt comfortable enough to finally tell him about what you’d went through, that you probably felt the same way he did.
“This is really sweet,” you said, reading through everything he wrote. “Wait…”
You turned to look at him after you’d made it to the end of what he wrote, as he smiled at you.
“I love you, babe.”
“Seriously?” was all you said, your eyes starting to water as Ethan suddenly felt like maybe it was a little too soon for him to say it when you didn’t say it back.
“Yeah, it’s how I feel. If you aren’t ready for that-“
You cut him off my kissing him. “I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.
He pushed you back on the bed as he smiled down at you.
“You are sure, like one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked, as his hand started to rub your thigh over your jeans.
“I’m positive. I want to do this with you.”
He leaned down to kiss you as his hands just kept rubbing against you. You didn’t feel self-conscious like you had before, and you were excited to share this experience with someone that loved you.
“Is it okay if I take your shirt off of you?” he asked, waiting for you to consent before he did it. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.
You paused and took a deep breath. “Yes.”
The second your shirt was over your head, you noticed Ethan’s gaze on all your scars. You tried to cover them with your hands before he pulled them away.
“Stop, baby. You’re beautiful,” he said, running his hands across them.
He leaned down to start kissing your neck, his curls tickling you as you started to giggle.
“Am I absolutely awful at this or something?” he asked, as your fingers started to run through his hair.
“No babe, you’re tickling me, but it feels good,” you said, squirming a little underneath him once he found your sweet spot. “It really feels good.” He smirked against you as you started to let out heavy breaths. “I think your shirt should come off, too.”
He pulled away to take his shirt off before he leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands started to run along his back as he melted into your touch.
You leaned up a little as you felt his hands try to snake around you to unhook your bra. He fumbled with it for a minute, making you laugh into the kiss.
“I’ve never done this before,” he said, jokingly glaring at you as you smiled at him. He finally got it unhooked, sliding the straps down your arms as he pulled it off you. “Are you going to laugh at me the whole time?”
“No, babe,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hold in your giggles. You didn’t have to for long though, your mouth falling open as you gasped when he took one of your nipples into your mouth. He alternated between licking and sucking, before he moved to the other side. “That feels so good.”
He pulled away and smiled at you, “If you want to stop at any point, let me know. I’m not going to get mad, I just want you to be okay.”
“Thank you, baby. I know you won’t hurt me,” you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair as his eyes fluttered at the feeling.
He leaned down again with your fingers still tangled in his hair, as he started to place kisses along your stomach. He paid extra attention to your scars, now knowing the dark story of how you got them. You looked down at him as he started to unbutton your jeans.
“I love you, baby.” He said, as he started to pull them down your hips. “Your body is so beautiful. Please don’t ever think that it’s not, okay?”
“Okay,” you sighed, as his hands started to run up your bare thighs.
“Can these come off?” he asked, rubbing your panties along your hips.
“Yes,” you said, as he smiled at you.
“You know I have no idea what I’m doing, so please let me know if anything I do hurts.”
“Ethan,” you sighed, as his eyes connected with yours. “Just do what you think feels right, and I’ll let you know how it feels.”
“Okay, baby,” he said, as his hand ran up your inner thigh, and over your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling, as he kept rubbing you. “Can I taste you, babe?”
“Please,” you said, as he leaned in. His tongue gently licked your clit, as your hand started to run through your hair. “That feels…fuck.”
His mouth started to move faster when your moans got a little louder, loving all the sounds he was pulling from you. His cock was straining against his jeans, but that was the last thing he wanted to focus on. He just wanted to keep making you feel good.
“Can you use your fingers, too?” you asked, your chest heaving as his finger started to brush against your entrance. You gasped when he slid it inside of you, pumping it in and out.
He pulled his mouth away to watch you, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
You whimpered at his words as his fingers started to curve a little. “Oh shit,” you whined, as he slowed his fingers.
“You okay?” he asked, trying to ready your face, scared that he’d hurt you.
“That felt good, keep doing that,” you said, gasping as his finger moved quicker. “You can use two.”
He added another finger and moved them against that spot as he leaned down to focus on your clit with his mouth.
“Fuck, a little faster, baby,” you moaned, feeling that coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter.
He did as you said, before he switched from licking your clit to sucking on it.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, your legs starting to jolt. He gasped as your pussy started to contract around his fingers. He didn’t want to stop his actions too quickly, so he just kept going until you started to pull away. You were letting out shaky breaths as he sat up to look at you, the blissful expression on your face making him smile.
“Did that feel good?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded with your eyes closed.
“That was perfect, babe.”
He curled up on the bed beside you, caressing everywhere he could reach as he waited for you to tell him it was okay to go further. He noticed the gasp that slipped past your lips when his hand ran over one of your breasts, so he started to massage it.
“Baby, I’m not trying to rush you, but my mom will be home soon,” you said, smiling at him. “I really don’t want this to get interrupted.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, sliding off the side of the bed to take his jeans off. You giggled at him as he smiled at you. “Sorry, I’ve been hard for so long.”
“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re so excited,” you said, as he nodded.
“Yeah, I’m excited to experience this with the person that means the world to me,” he said, as he grabbed a condom out of his wallet before he slid his boxers down. He was mumbling something to you, but you couldn’t focus as you stared at him, starting to get a little anxious. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, as you shook your head. “I was just reminding you that if it’s too much, let me know.”
As he stood in front of you, you started to question if it would be too much. He opened the condom and rolled it on before he crawled back on the bed to hover over you.
“Can you go slow?” you asked, as he lined up with your entrance.
“Of course, baby. As slow as you want,” he assured you, as he started to push himself inside of you. He noticed you wincing at the pain, and even tensing up a little. He stilled, looking over your face. “Try to relax, baby.”
He didn’t move, he just waited for you to give him the okay. He leaned down to kiss you, as the pain started to ease.
“Keep going,” you said, as he slid in a little further. You tensed up again, so he just kept kissing you. He wanted you to know that this wasn’t just about him enjoying the experience. He wanted to take care of you. It was starting to get to the point where the pressure of him stretching you started to feel really good. “Can you move?” you mumbled against his lips.
“Uh, I’m almost all the way in…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, as your lust-filled eyes looked into his.
“It’s not really hurting anymore,” you said, as he started to smile. He slid the rest of himself inside of you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. His hips slowly started to move as he looked down at you. He was internally screaming but was trying to play it as cool as you were. “Can you go a little faster?”
“Yes,” he said, but it really came out as a whimper as he started to move a little faster. You were just so warm and tight. It was better than he ever thought it would be. “You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you,” you moaned, as the tip of his cock started to hit the spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, Ethan,” you whimpered, as your hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.
“I love you so much, baby,” he whined out, as he started to go even faster. He didn’t know if it was going to be too much for you to handle, but the way you started to moan helped ease the anxiety he had about it.
“I love you, too,” you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm creeping up.
He started to get even more confident, angling your legs so he was able to go a little deeper. Your hands held on to his biceps as he looked down at you. He was trying so hard not cum, but the expressions on your face and the sounds you were making made it a lot harder for him.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, as he sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to hold back much longer. He groaned out the second your walls started to tighten around him, your hands shaking as the grip you had on his arms got tighter. He got you though it, speeding up a little as he chased his own orgasm.
His thrusts started to falter as his mouth fell open and his eyes began to flutter. You watched him though your post-orgasm haze, smiling as he opened his eyes to look at you. His chest was heaving, a goofy smile on his lips.
“That was a million times better than my hand,” he joked, making you laugh.
“It better be,” you said playfully, as you heard the front door open. “Shit.”
You and Ethan both jumped off your bed, your legs wobbly as you tried to find your clothes. You slid your panties back on as Ethan got his boxers and jeans back on. The second you got your shirt over your head, your bedroom door opened.
“Hey, there’s some people out here to see you,” your mom said, looking down at her phone as she walked into your room.
“Uh, mom,” you said, as she looked up at you.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she asked, noticing you without pants, Ethan shirtless, and the condom wrapper on your bedside table.
“Can we talk about this in a minute?” you asked, desperate for her to leave the room so you could finish getting dressed.
She huffed as she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once you got your jeans back on, you heard your mom yell “I’ll kill him,” as Ethan looked over to you, terrified. You giggled as he slid his shirt over his head.
“It’s okay, babe. Hopefully Brooks will back me up,” you joked, as the both of you walked towards the door.
Your mom walking in was embarrassing enough, but when you walked out to see all the friends you hadn’t seen for a week sitting on the couch curiously looking at you and Ethan, your cheeks started to turn red.
“Oh, uh, hey guys. What are you doing here?” you asked, as Mindy pointed to the take-out bags on the kitchen island.
“Yeah, we wanted to surprise you and bring you food,” Chad said, before directing hit attention to Ethan. “I tried to text you a few times to invite you to come with us, but I understand why you didn’t respond.”
Ethan awkwardly laughed, before he noticed your mom glaring at him from the kitchen.
“Babe,” Brooks said, walking up beside her. “It’s okay.”
“You think me coming home to see my daughter and her boyfriend trying to put their clothes back on is okay?”
Mindy was trying to hold in her laughter, Chad was, too.
“Can’t we all just be happy that I trust Ethan, and finally told him everything?” you said, trying to play it off as a joke as your mom rolled her eyes.
“That’s a good point,” Brooks said, “That’s something she wasn’t able to do before.”
“Are you just going to back her up on everything?” your mom sighed, looking up at him.
“I just want you to see the positives,” he said, before gesturing over to Ethan. “He’s a good kid. He cares about her.”
“I really do,” Ethan said, finally speaking up.
“See? I know you’re still going to worry about her, but let her be happy,” Brooks said, as your mom started to walk over to you.
“You are going on birth control. And you,” she said, turning to Ethan, “If you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t hurt her,” Ethan said, as she stared him down.
“You better not. Let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”
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MINORS DNI 18+
CLAY BERESFORD has to sit down when he gets too exhilarated. When life moves too fast, his heart can’t take it. Breath quickens, eyes haze. He used to power through it, and that’d only make it worse. Now he’s learned the signs, knows to catch it early. The first time you’d kissed him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand. A flock of butterflies inhabited his insides, frenzying in a flurry whenever he’d remember what it felt like to touch your lips on his. At that point, he’d believed his heart condition was common knowledge. His mother, his associates, his friends, all constantly brought it up. But you, you were genuinely caught off guard, catching him tenderly ‘round the arm when he’d shown signs of fatigue. Gentle as you could be, you softened the impact to his seat when his legs gave out.
“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.
Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.
“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.
“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”
But you can’t fend him off.
His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”
He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.
“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.
“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?
You figure it’s less pressure on him to be underneath you; you feel more secure in riding him like this. So you move his hands up, allowing them to handle your torso while you do the work. He sits back, and looks pretty for you, while you use him up.
#ch: clay#indy: drabbles#clay beresford drabble#tw heart#tw meds mention#clay beresford smut#indy drabbles#clay beresford x reader#clay beresford x reader smut#clay beresford x f!reader#clay beresford x f!reader smut#hayden christensen smut#x f!reader#reader insert#smut#hayden#no y/n#clay beresford x you#clay beresford x you smut#awake (2007)#awake smut#awake (2007) smut#clay beresford fanfiction#awake fanfiction#awake 2007#awake 2007 smut#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen x reader smut
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Trapped
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Robert Capa x reader
Summary | You ask Capa for his help, then get stuck in a a room barely big enough for the two of you. After only a few minutes of forced proximity, he snaps.
Warnings | NON CON sexual content, 18+, smut, dubcon but technically noncon tbh, forced proximity, vaginal sex, painful sex, forced breeding, crying, idk what else lol.
Words | 1k+
Notes | Don’t ask for specifics on the beginning… I kept it vague for a reason💀 Also I lowkey can’t tell if this is cringy cause I wrote and published it in one day which I never do so I’ll probably come back to it😭 but anyway I hope y’all enjoy
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
“Yeah I know, but everyone else is busy.”
“I’m busy.” He retorted.
“With what exactly?” You waited and he huffed, rolling his eyes, making you smirk. “It’ll be quick.”
“Fine.” You led him through the long hallways before finally stopping outside of a door. You used your key to open it, then stepped inside, and he waited impatiently for what you wanted to show him.
“I just need you to double check this for me. Better safe than sorry, you know?” He mumbled out an agreement, then stepped closer, trying to see. When he still couldn’t quite make it out, he stepped forward even more and your stomach dropped as the light quickly left the room, followed by the door clicking shut.
“Fuck! Capa— this door locks!” You all but yelled, panic filling your chest.
“What?”
“We’re trapped, you fucking idiot,”
“Hey, this is not my fault. You could’ve told me.” You could hear the handle violently jiggling as he tried to open it, despite what you just said. With the door now closed, you couldn’t even turn around to face him because of how small the space was. “Who else did you ask to help you before me?”
“Not enough people for them to realize we're missing anytime soon.” He cursed under his breath and you let out a heavy sigh. There wasn’t a light in this ‘room’ so he couldn’t even look at what you originally came down here for, which just made all of this worse.
You shifted your weight, trying not to think about how long you might have to stand here without being able to move. Even though you were praying someone would come, you knew deep down that it would take a couple hours at least. You heard him try the handle again before letting out a heavy breath. You were silent, trying to think of something to say or if you should even say anything at all. When his breathing picked up, you paused, listening for a few more seconds just to be sure.
“I hope you’re not claustrophobic.” You said, mostly teasingly.
“That’s not the problem right now.” He muttered, making your brows furrow in confusion. He cursed under his breath and you waited for him to elaborate on what the problem was. Instead, his hands just barely brushed your hips, making you stiffen. When he grabbed them lightly, your breath caught in your throat.
“What are you doing?” You couldn’t hide the slight quaver in your voice. He ignored you and started rubbing up and down your sides. “Stop it.” You warned, trying to bat his hands away, but barely being able to in the small space. You suddenly felt his breath on your shoulder and he dragged his nose up your neck, inhaling deeply.
“Capa?” You whispered, stomach knotting with fear. He let out a low groan and suddenly gripped your hips, hard enough to make you wince, to keep you from moving.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered. Before you could ask what that meant, he was shoving your pants and underwear down, making you yelp and try to pull them back up. His were next, pushing the clothing down just enough to free his cock.
“Wait,” You tried thrashing, but he pushed you forward against the wall and grabbed your hips again to limit your movement. “Capa, stop!” You felt his cock brush your hole and you stiffened. He moved one hand to line up his cock and the other to cover your mouth.
He applied some pressure, but wasn’t able to push in, so he used more force until he finally breached your hole. You let out a hoarse scream behind his hand, feeling your eyes burn with tears. That was nothing compared to the burning between your legs though.
“Fuck— I’m sorry. I just need this…” He said through a breath, only staying still for a moment before starting a brutal pace, making your tears fall. He rutted into you and the hand not on your mouth wrapped around your stomach, holding you still. You clawed at both of his hands and arms, trying to get him to release you. Instead, he just groaned at the pain and fucked you harder.
“I know… I’m sorry.” He said, as if that could make up for anything. You sobbed violently behind his hand and that only seemed to encourage him, making him fuck you even rougher. “Fuck you’re so tight.” He whispered, hot breath fanning your ear. “You feel so fucking good… god— it’s been so long.”
He humped into you desperately, chasing his own pleasure and ignoring your muffled cries. Even though your body was starting to adjust to make this easier, it still hurt like hell and you already knew you weren’t going to be able to sit comfortably for at least a day or two. He groaned and cursed against your ear as he tightened his grip, fucking you more frenzied now.
“Oh fuck— I’m already close… I have to fill you.” He said lowly. You let out the loudest scream so far. “I know, I’m sorry, I just need it so fucking bad. I need to come in a tight, hot pussy, I can’t take it anymore.” He whined, holding you tighter. You let out a stifled sob and shook your head.
“I’m sorry,” He moaned, thrusts becoming more forceful and desperate, “I can’t stop— I can’t pull out, I’m so sorry.” You tried to scream protests at him from behind his hand but nothing you said was coherent.
He moaned out one last apology before his hips snapped forward, burying his cock deep enough to make your cervix ache. He humped into you as he rode it out, groaning against your ear and squeezing your body tight enough to almost hurt. You felt his cock twitching as warmth filled you, making you let out a strangled whimper. The hand on your mouth dropped so that his arm wrapped around your chest instead, still holding you against his body as you cried silently.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, one last time.
Taglist (join here)
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues
#robert capa x reader#robert capa#sunshine#cillian murphy#robert capa smut#robert capa x reader smut#dark!robert capa
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"Wan dat, dada!"
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife reader
Summary: Jake sent his wife and his son out on a mommy/son weekend but didn't realize just how stubborn his wife's carbon copy is. Can anyone speak toddler? Hangman definitely can't.
Warnings- swearing.
Part of the Spitfire Universe not necessary to have ready anything else but helpful!
“Wan dat!”
Jake sighs as he places his forehead on top of his hands on the shopping cart handle to take a deep breath before looking back up at his tiny monster, “I know, baby girl, believe me I know you ‘wan dat’ but I don’t know what ‘dat’ is!”
“Dat!” his beautiful daughter says while vaguely pointing with her chubby little pointer finger that had just been in her mouth.
Jake shudders thinking of all the germs she’s now infested with. What’s with the fingers in the mouth? Why are they always there?
Focus Jake. Bigger fish to fry. He needed to figure out what his daughter wanted but the problem was he’s held every single thing up that he could guess that she was pointing at. They’ve been at this for at least ten minutes and they were both ready to lose their minds because of the other. He could seethe look on his daughter’s face getting more and more exasperated at her father. A face that matches her mother’s.
He doesn’t remember Eli being this stubborn. Eli could be distracted. When he was a toddler Eli was fine with not getting the exact thing he wanted. He had been happy just to be out and about with his daddy. Eli was still always happy when they went places together. He was never fussy.
His daughter though? She was a force to be reckoned with. At 19 months old she had everyone she knew wrapped around her chubby little finger. She was spoiled rotten and Jake wouldn’t have it any other way. Well… except right now. Right this very second he’s so close to losing his shit.
He’s a goddamn fighter pilot. He’s put in high stress situations all the time and he’s about to lose his shit due to a baby. A baby!
He can’t call his wife. He refuses to. He told her that he could handle everything while he shooed her and his son out the door for their mama and son weekend getaway, and he will handle everything. Probably. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.
“Dada! Dat!” Ella says while patting her father’s cheek with the hand that’s still covered in slobber.
Jake groans then pretends to snap his teeth at his daughter’s hand causing her to squeal with laughter. At least he can lighten the mood while he’s about to lose his own shit. He’s not sure which thing will be the last straw. His daughter yelling at him or being covered in her spit.
“What about ice cream, pretty girl? Hmm? Does ice cream sound good?” He offers.
She nods, “Mmmm and dat!”
Didn’t take the bait. Now he owes her two things and heaven help him if he forgets the ice cream.
“Okay, okay,” He says with a sigh. “I hear you. I promise. You want that.” He stands up and bends down slightly so he’s next to his daughter. “Okay baby girl show me.”
She wiggles in her seat then points, “Dat dat dat!”
He tries to follow her finger and her gaze, “The goldfish?”
“No!” She says, shaking her head with a huff. “Dada wan dat.” She then proceeds to start babbling, none of which is anything remotely close to a word that Jake can understand. Is she speaking a different language? That would be just like his wife to teach their daughter a different language just to fuck with him.
He can’t wait until she can speak. English. He needs her to speak English. He never thought he’d say that. Usually he wants his little baby girl to stay as little as possible. Now? Now he needs her to grow up just a little bit so he can understand her and then back to the staying little as long as possible thing. His son grew up way too fast. He’s too big. Jake’s spent hours watching his son sleep in his big boy bed with tears in his eyes, very manly tears, because of how fast his little boy is growing up. If he could squish his son a little bit so he was smaller again, he would. Maybe he could do the same for his daughter. It was way easier when all she did was cry, which is also something he never thought he would admit. Somehow the screaming and crying that Ella used to do was easier than trying to decipher this gibberish. Infants only really want like six things. He can handle six things.
“How about this princess,” Jake says as he picks Ella up from the cart seat and walks over to the row of shelves. “What do you want? What’s ‘dat’?”
Ella giggles and pats at some bags of snacks then wiggles in Jake’s arms.
Jake grabs one of the bags, “This is what you want?”
She shakes her head, “No.”
Jake sighs, “C’mon princess. Help me, help you.”
Ella babbles as she starts looking around then starts to wiggle even harder making it hard for Jake to keep a hold of her.
He hears a gasp behind him and turns while his daughter starts to shout, "Nanana! Nana!"
"My pretty girl, what are you doing here?!" Penny says as she walks up pushing a shopping cart half full of items.
Ella continues to wiggle in Jake's arms before he finally sets her down and she toddles her way to her grandma with her arms raised while squealing in excitement.
Penny leans down to pick Ella up and hugs her close, "Are you being such a big helper? Helping daddy do the shopping since mommy is out of town? Yeah I know you are. Such a biggie girl being a helper."
Jake chuckles, "Yeah. Uh huh. Definitely a big helper and definitely not driving her poor father insane asking for 'dat' when he clearly has no idea what ‘dat’ means no matter how many times she repeats it.”
Penny laughs as she rocks Ella lightly back and forth in her arms, "The great Hangman doesn't understand his daughter? I'm shocked we've finally found something you can't do."
"Well hold on now, I didn't say I can't do it, I just said it's hard and I'm past frustrated at this point. We've been in this aisle for like 20 minutes by now and I am no closer to figuring out what she wants and unlike Eli she has some crazy laser focus that makes it impossible to distract her because whatever ‘dat’ is seems to be the most important thing in the world and she won’t take anything else even though I offered ice cream and instead she’s just getting frustrated and somehow I got covered in toddler slobber," Jake whines.
Penny raises her eyebrow, "You done?"
Jake huffs, "For now.”
Penny laughs as she bounces the toddler in her arms, "You know who she gets that laser focus from, don't you?"
Jake shrugs, "Her mother?"
Penny shakes her head while she walks over to the long line of shelves near Jake, "Oh no, not at all. Your wife gets distracted by the littlest of things. Your son takes after her. Your daughter however is all you. The attitude she has might be her mother but that focus is all from her daddy.”
Jake smiles a bit. He hadn't thought of that. He always just assumes his daughter got everything from her mother. She’s certainly beautiful like her mother and smart like her too. It would have never occurred to him that Ella got this from him.
“That stubbornness came from him too,” Penny adds with a snicker then in a sing song voice, “Uh huh. You’re a stubborn little thing just like your daddy here, aren’t you? Yes you are. Oh yes you are.” She tickles Ella’s belly who squeals with laughter again.
Jake grumbles under his breath about not being stubborn before Penny shoots him a look which promptly stops Jake.
“Okay Ella Bella, what is it you want?” Penny asks as she turns Ella towards the shelves.
Ella points her chubby little finger out again, “Dat! Wan dat, Nana!”
“The Teddy Grahams like you had at Nana’s house the other day?” Penny asks walking the two of them closer to the boxes of snacks all lined up neatly in a row.
“Yesh! Dat!” Ella says smacking the box filled with chocolate bear crackers before Penny grabbed a box and walked over to Jake’s cart and threw the box in.
“Problem solved. Here’s your baby,” Penny says with a kiss to Ella’s cheek before she handing Ella back to Jake as he just stares at Penny in shock.
“20 minutes. I stood here for forever and couldn’t figure it out and it took you less than one minute? What the hell?” Jake says as he turned to place his daughter back in the cart seat.
Penny scowls at him, “Language, Seresin. Better hope I don’t tell Mav or your wife.”
“I’m sorry, m’am. My bad,” He says while trying his best to look apologetic but at the same time ‘What the actual hell?!?’ It wasn’t fair. Is he just bad at understanding his daughter? He didn’t think he was. Does this make him a bad dad?
Penny lightly taps his arm with the back of her hand, “You tried your best. You didn’t know she has a new favorite snack that she tried at Nana’s house this week.”
Jake nods while listening to Penny. He did try.
Penny walks back to her cart after grabbing another box of the crackers and throwing it in her own cart, “Don’t forget about that ice cream you mentioned. Don’t want to set your daughter off again.”
Ella smacks her hands on her father’s who had put his hands back on the cart handle to start pushing again, “Dada mmmmm. Dada!”
Jake laughs, “I hear you, princess. Let’s go get you some ‘mmm’ at least that one I understand. Say ‘bye’ to Nana.”
“Bye bye, Nana!” Ella says before attempting to blow Penny a kiss.
Penny laughs, “Bye bye, sweet girl. Go pick out some yummy ice cream with daddy.” She starts to push her cart before stopping and turning towards Jake, “If you need any more help don’t hesitate to ask, Jake. Don’t stand in an aisle for 20 minutes getting upset at your toddler. We’re all here to help you be the best dad that you can be. Never forget that, okay?”
Jake sighs, “Thank you. Really. I appreciate it.”
Penny nods at him before continuing towards the end of the aisle to finish her shopping.
“Let’s go get you your ice cream,” Jake says as he grins at his daughter who looks up at him with a matching grin. Huh, maybe she has more of him in her than he thinks. Who would have thought?
#jake “hangman” seresin x f!reader#jake hangman seresin x female reader#hangman x reader#spitfire universe#dad!hangman
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May I please request price x pregnant wife reader. While they are deployed new neighbors move in, well the male neighbor ends up being a creep and watches reader when she's in the yard and often comes over to her house just to be a creep. Reader doesn't want to tell her husband because she doesn't want him stressing himself. Well when he finally makes it home he notices she's acting strange Or his son (if you wanna add them already having kids) tells him what's going on. He goes into protective mood and handles the situation. Thank you and I love your fics ❤️❤️❤️
I'm slowly but surely getting back to writing again! Enjoy <3
CW: Creepy behaviour from neighbour (fuck that guy) unwanted touching aaand that's it I think.
[2K+ Words]
You hummed softly as your husband kissed you for the fifth time while walking to the front door. “You should go before someone gets mad” you say while he holds you by the waist and pulls you closer to him “Laswell will be fine for a bit” he mumbles before peppering you with kisses “John!” you giggle and then you hear the loud running footsteps of your son coming down the stairs.
“Daddy, I'm ready to come with you!” you turn to see your son dressed in similar gear you’ve seen John wear before with his nerf gun in his hand. John lets go of your waist and walks over to your son, dropping to one knee he straightens up the hat on his head and laughs “You can’t come with, your son frowns before your husband finishes his sentence, because who else will protect the girls?” he points back to you and reaches up to touch your stomach.
You found out you were having a girl last week and you couldn’t contain your excitement, you love your son to pieces but you wanted to at least have one of each which now you will do.
“Okay… I'll protect mummy and sissy!” he bounces on his feet and launches himself onto John. Wrapping his strong arms around him he lifts him from the ground and tickles his stomach before throwing him onto the sofa “See you soon bud” “Bye dad!”
John chuckles before giving you one last kiss and whispering something in your ear which leaves you in a flustered mess. You watch him get into his car and back out of the driveway, it was always hard to see him go, but you know that he’ll come back. You wave at him until he turns the corner down the next street and you sigh before going back inside and seeing your son bouncing on the sofa cushions.
“Cmon, let's go build a fort!” you say excitedly and watch as your son rips apart the whole couch for the big cushions. It's a tradition at this point when John leaves. Build a fort, watch Cars all night and eat as much popcorn humanly possible. Tradition.
A couple of days later you were outside sweeping the leaves on your driveway while listening to the radio you had perched on a windowsill.
As you were doing so, you failed to see the wandering eyes of your new neighbour. He stood on his driveway with a box in his hands glancing your way. When you turned around he was already gone inside of his house without you seeing his previous glare.
You rested your hands on your hips as you took in the leaf free ground, you know they will reappear but it was something to keep you busy other than taking your son to school.
“Looks good” you heard a voice say and you nearly jumped out of your skin, your neighbours never speak to you for some unknown reason so this truly shocked you. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you there darling” your eyes find brown ones and you take in the new person. “I just moved in next door and thought I'd introduce myself, Adam” he puts out a hand and you go to shake it but he seemed to hold on for a lot longer than you had liked.
“Hi” you introduce yourself and tell him your name which he repeated back to you. The air seemed a little awkward as he just stood there while the radio played in the background. “Well, if you ever need anything, and i mean anything then i’ll be next door” he waves before leaving you alone and going back into his house. You do the same and lock it behind you before getting on with some jobs inside of the house.
When you came home from picking your son Gabe up from school, there was a knock on your door and Gabe shouted for you to open it. “Hey no shouting” you whisper while rubbing your head at the loud sound. When you open the door you’re met with your neighbour and plaster a fake smile on your face.
“I hope i'm not intruding” he says while looking down at his watch, you shake your head and want him to get on with whatever he wants from you.
“I made some cookies and got a little carried away with my new oven so i thought i’d bring some over” he pushes a blue polkadot tin into your field of vision and your son comes to the door “Cookies?!” he grabs the tin but you take it off him and give your neighbour a smile “That's very nice of you but my son is allergic to most ingredients” you lie while handing it back to him, he takes it off you with a frown but perks up “Ah nevermind then! Have a good night darling” you cringe at the name he gives you but you don’t say anything about it and shut the door.
“I'm not allergic to cookies…” Gabe mumbles in confusion and you steer him into the kitchen to grab him one you bought. “Don’t take food from strangers” is all you say before closing the blinds in your house and seeing the outline of your neighbour inside of his house.
John had always drilled safety points into your head, even if the person seems harmless there isn’t any harm in being careful. With his job you’d think he knows a thing or two about safety, after all he's seen more things that you could possibly ever have.
The next few days you’ve been weary of your neighbour, his actions were weird and you had a strange vibe from him. Your son had picked up on your behaviour and asked you multiple times why he was not allowed to play outside but you just told him it was too cold to.
You knew your neighbour was out as his car wasn’t in the driveway so you let your son play with his football while you replaced the lightbulb on your patio. You could’ve wait until John was home but you were capable and it's one less job for him to do.
As you were putting the bulb inside you heard footsteps come up the stairs and you thought it was your son “Hey Gabe could you pass me the cover please sweetie” you ask while pointing blindly to the ground. You were up on some ladders so it would be easier for him to get it if he just came up to you.
You felt it touch your hand and then as you screwed it back into the right spot you felt hands hold your hips. Shocking you, the cover fell out of your hands and smashed onto the floor. Turning around you’re met with the brown eyes of your neighbour and quickly scramble down the small step ladders.
“What are you doing here?” your heart was beating fast and you looked around to see your son still playing with his football on the grass. “I saw you and thought you might need some help, wouldn’t want you or the baby to get hurt” he smiles with his oddly creepy smile.
“I don't want you coming near me or touching me again” you say in a firm voice and he raises a brow not expecting you to say anything about how he had his hands on your body. You cross your arms over your chest and he lets out a chuckle before stepping away with his arms in the air “Alright alright, i guess being a nice person is a bad thing now” you glare at him as he walks down the stairs and past where your son is standing watching.
“Is everything okay mummy?” he asks while holding his football in his hand and you just smile before nodding “Yes but be careful there's glass up here” you motion at the floor where there's a mess of glass shards everywhere.
You could see your neighbour watching you still which sends an uncomfortable feeling in your body. You can't wait until your husband comes home.
You had avoided going out as much as possible, too scared to face the man next door. You had a bad dream last night about him, he broke into your home which made you stay up for the rest of the night in your son's room while he slept soundly. Gabe did wake up confused as to why you were in his room but you told him there was a spider in your room and was too scared to sleep in there.
You didn't want to worry him but he did make you laugh when he picked up his slipper and marched into your room to find the spider.
Tonight John was coming home and you were so relieved when you heard his voice on the phone. Everything that has happened with your neighbour over the past few weeks has really turned you into a different person.
Gabe was overly excited and was wearing you out, with the lack of sleep and also being pregnant is starting to make you tired. You had put on a movie but soon enough fell asleep to the soothing sound of the main character's voice.
You didn't hear the front door open or the loud squeals of your son welcoming his dad home. You did however feel the figure of someone hovering over you, their large hands moved hair from your face and caressed your cheek. A kiss was placed on your forehead and you woke up with a start and darted your hand out which made contact with your husband's face, well you didn't know it was him until he looked at you with a confused look.
“Oh John! I'm so sorry” you apologise with a mortified expression, your hands reached out and grabbed his cheeks trying to soothe the hit. “You okay? You've never done that before” he asks while pressing kisses to your wrist. “You scared me!” your hands retreat from him and you rub your tired eyes.
John runs his eyes up and down you and could tell something was bothering you or something had happened you haven't told him. He's a very observant man and knows everything about his wife, there wasn't much you could hide from him - he even knew you were pregnant with Gabe before you did.
“How was work?” you question and he fills you in on some things about the guys. You weren't really paying attention but laughed when you felt it was appropriate. Your son was climbing all over John and you smiled softly at the scene, your little family and whole world.
“Isn't it your bedtime Mr?” John says while ticking Gabes sides and lifting him into the air as if he’s an aeroplane. “No!” he shouts but John had him hanging off his arm while walking upstairs to his room.
“Mummy help me!!”
You laughed softly and as you looked up you could see your neighbour staring right through your living room window waving before shutting his blinds. You abruptly stood and drew the curtains with so much aggression you swore you heard them rip a little.
You went around making sure every window and door was locked, along with the blinds and curtains. You should probably tell John about Adam and his actions to you while he was gone but you didn’t want him to worry, if you don’t give him the time of day maybe he will leave you alone. Maybe.
It had been three days since John came home and you had been distant. You dropped the box of cereal in your hands when he put his hands on your hips and hugged you from behind. You told him to not call you darling which confused him also but shrugged it off until today he saw you looking through the window as if you’re looking for something.
He knew he wouldn’t get anything out of you so he walked up the stairs and into Gabe's room, shutting the door softly behind him making sure you didn't hear.
“Hey bud, can I ask you something?” Gabe nods his head while stopping his colouring in of a dinosaur. “Did anything happen to your mom while I was gone?” John asks and then watches as Gabe stands from where he was sitting at his desk and walks over to where he was sitting on the bed.
“I don't think she likes the new neighbour very much…”
“New neighbour?”
“Adam. She was angry at him when he touched her”
John's jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. “What did you just say son?” He asks hoping he heard him correctly.
“Mummy was fixing the light and he went to help but she dropped it and it smashed”
Standing from the edge of his son's bed, John storms out of the room and goes straight out the front door. You watched as he did so and walked to the front door with hurried steps. Whatever was going on with him, he was pissed.
Your husband storms up to Adam's house and pounds onto the front door, it opens and John grabs the man by his shirt and pushes him up against the door.
“Touch my wife again and i’ll fucking make sure you never touch anything with those hands again” he shouts into his face and watches as the man trembles.
“I didn't do anything! Please, whatever she said-” pushing him back, his head hits the door again and he winces “My wife didn’t have to say anything, her behaviour told me enough”
“I'll do anything please, I'm sorry!”
“You’re going to apologise to her and then after that, I don’t want to see your fucking face again” Adam nods frantically and John lets him go.
You were watching from afar as they walked up the driveway, your husbands eyes were staring daggers into Adams head while he kept his head down looking guilty.
His brown eyes meet with yours and you keep your distance “I’m sorry for everything i did to you, it was wrong of me to do and i am truly sorry” he says in a very monotone way. He gives you one last look before running away to his house.
“What was that about?”
“You should’ve told me about him, love…” your eyes brim with tears and he holds out his arms to you “come here” you collapse into his arms and he runs his hand up your neck in a soothing manner “you don’t have to keep everything to yourself”
“I know, I just didn’t want to make you worry about it” he pulls away and grabs your face in his hands “your problems are my problems, we’re in this together remember?” you nod your head and he places a kiss on your forehead before pushing you inside of the house.
“Now that problems been taken care of, would you care for a massage my love?” you smile at him before dragging him further into the house and up the stairs for your well awaited massage.
#captain john price x reader#price x reader#price call of duty#john price x reader#captain john price#captain johnathan price#price x female reader#captain price x female reader
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Falling for her
(Amber Freeman x fem! reader x Tara Carpenter)
Summary: Amber reveals herself as one of the killers, and you, her girlfriend, are as shocked as everyone else. A year after all this shit, you and Tara become closer, eventually leading to something more than friendship...
Part 1 || Part 2
Warnings: blood, injuries, death of characters, slight angst
a/n: might do a part 2 👀
(English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)
Since the beginning you defended her, telling everyone she was incapable of killing someone. Telling them she wasn't like that. Telling them they were wrong.
Turns out you were the one who was wrong this all time.
And even now that she shot Liv in the head you couldn't believe it. You simply couldn't.
You were frozen in place, incapable of running away with the others. You only moved because Amber dragged you to her room, along with Tara, whom she taped and put in her closet before kneeling in front of you.
"You okay baby..? I know I lied, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to hurt you I promise"
She whipped your tears away with her thumbs and placed a peck on your lips.
"You're coming with me after this right? We'll run away from Woodsboro and start a new life together, just the two of us. No more Ghostface, no more blood, no more Tara."
As far as you could remember, she had always been jealous of Tara. Not that you felt anything for her, you loved Amber and her only, but your girlfriend didn't seem to understand that.
You fought a lot because of that, which led you to spend more and more time away from her. More and more time with Tara. You knew it wouldn't fix anything, but you couldn't handle your girlfriend's jealousy 24/7. You needed space.
“P-please d-don’t hurt her… I’ll come with you… j-just… leave her alone… please…”
“Oh baby… you’re so kind even in that situation… but I can’t let her live, she’d snitch on me and the police would be after us…”
She smiled at you. Not the smile that made you fall for her. A crazy, psychotic smile.
“Now come with me baby, you wouldn’t want to miss the spectacle, right?”
She gently took your hand and guided you downstairs before dragging you to the kitchen, when she told you to wait for her.
You wanted to run away the second she left, but your legs didn’t seem to agree. All you could do was cry on the floor, re thinking everything, every time Amber told you she had something to do, probably killing someone.
Killing someone with the same hands she touched you with.
Knees against your chest, you couldn’t stop crying. Your eyes were all puffy and red. Your chest hurt. Your heart hurt.
When Amber got back, gripping Sidney’s hair, followed by Richie and Sam, you were still there. Not even looking up.
“Y/n..? You… you knew..?”
That made you tilt your head up slightly.
“S-Sam I swear I didn’t know… I would never hurt anyone… let alone Tara…”
She looked at you with suspicious eyes, along with Sidney.
“N-no.. I.. please you have to believe me..”
“Yeah, believe her.” Richie said, grabbing your arm to make you stand up. “Maybe that’ll help you trust her”
He sunk his knife into your abdomen, five times, his other hand on your mouth to prevent you from screaming. He threw you back onto the floor, as Amber entered the room.
“Okay Gale’s here, now we can-” she stopped as she saw you bleeding on the floor “Y/n!”
She rushed to you, a worried look on her face. She took off her costume and tried to bandage you up with it, to stop the bleeding.
“What the fuck did you do to her?!”
She turned to Richie, glaring daggers at him.
“Touch her again and I will fucking kill you."
She kneeled in front of you, gently cupping your cheeks.
"I'm sorry baby... he wasn't supposed to hurt you... y-you're gonna be fine don't worry... we'll end this quickly..."
She kissed your lips softly, before standing up.
You didn't see nor hear anything after that, barely conscious due to the amount of blood you were losing. When you opened your eyes, you were alone in the kitchen.
You could hear fight noises coming from the hallway. You stood up painfully. Once at the door, you felt your heart drop for the second - or was it third? - time this day.
Amber and Tara were fighting. She was going to kill her. You had to do something.
You managed to get in front of Tara just as Amber was about to stab her.
"Baby what are you doing...? You should rest you're not-"
"Amber... please stop... you can't kill her... she's our friend... they all were..."
You could see she was hurt. She thought you would be on her side, even after her reveal. But you weren't. You'd rather protect Tara than stay with her.
"Okay then..." she said
You thought you convinced her. But you were wrong. There was even more craziness in her black eyes.
"If I can't have you no one will."
She raised her knife, but before she could do anything, she got shot in the head. You watched in horror as she fell, remember all the moments you spent together.
You fell on your knees, heartbroken at the sight of your girlfriend's lifeless body. Even if she tried to kill you at the end, you knew she loved you.
Tara placed herself in front of you so you didn't have to see Amber any longer, thinking it wasn't good for you. You looked up at her, tears in your eyes, before pulling her into a hug she gave back.
<><><><> ♡ <><><><>
After "the incident", you spent a month at the hospital, in a room you shared with Tara. You were more than happy to have her by your side, and she felt the same about you.
Sidney came to visit you once, before going back home with her husband and children. She apologized for killing Amber, to what you replied she saved both your life and Tara's so there was no need for excuses.
Six months after that night, you moved out of Woodsboro with Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad. You all agreed on the fact that to heal and move on, you needed to get the fuck out of this city.
New York was your new home, and you wouldn't deny you were doing much better since you moved in with Tara and Sam.
Eight months after your arrival at New York, you found yourself thinking about Tara a lot more than just a friend would.
Was it bad that you were falling for her, only a year after Amber died..? Did it make you a bad person? What would Tara think about that? Was there even a chance she'd like you back?
"Y/n? I've been calling you for like ten minutes, are you okay?" Sam said as she entered your room
"Sorry, I was... thinking"
"You want to talk about it..?"
"If you don't mind listening.."
She sat beside you on the bed, taking your hand in hers.
"Hey, remember what we said when we left Woodsboro? I'm here for you, I'll always be"
"Thanks..."
You gave her a grateful smile.
"Now tell me everything"
"It’s Tara… I-I think I'm falling for her..."
The older girl looked at you with a slight smile.
"You have every right to fall for someone you know? That means you're over her, you're healing"
"Yeah..?"
"Plus I'm pretty sure she likes you back, given the way she looks at you and talk about you"
She squeezed your hand slightly.
"C'mon now, dinner time"
A few days had passed since you talked to Sam. It was night, and you were on the balcony, watching the sky and the city, when you felt a blanket falling on your shoulders.
“I thought you might get cold..”
Tara’s sweet voice made you smile as you turned to face her.
“But you don’t even wear a jacket! Tara..”
You pulled her closer to you, wrapping the blanket around her too, before realizing how close you were now.
You only ever saw her freckles from afar, but now you could see them perfectly. She had more than you thought.
She was so pretty, face illuminated with the faint light of the city, head slightly tilted up to look at you.
“Y/n…”
Her eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to your lips before going back to your eyes.
Neither of you said a word, yet you understood each other. You placed your hands on her waist, while she placed hers behind your neck, pulling you close, her eyes never leaving yours.
She stopped, only a few inches away from your lips, making sure you really wanted it to happen. You were the one closing the gap between you.
One of her hands went in your hair, soft lips moving against yours tenderly in a passionate kiss.
You could kiss her for hours, and she could say the same. You stayed here for a while, only pulling away when the lack of air forced you to.
No words were needed, and none was said during the next hour you spend on the balcony. You watched the stars, her head resting on your shoulder while she intertwined your fingers.
When it started raining, you both returned to your rooms after one last kiss.
You sat on your bed, smiling like an idiot, while Tara did the same on the floor.
She took a bag from under her bed, opening it silently, and taking something out of it.
“Now that I have you..” she brushed the white mask with her thumb “no one else ever will”
[Next part]
#amber freeman#tara carpenter#scream#scream 5#amber freeman x reader#tara carpenter x reader#amber freeman x fem reader#tara carpenter x fem reader#ghostface!tara
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Lovers and Friends 2 (M.S.)
summary: when y/n's boyfriend invites her out to a dinner a week before her birthday, the last thing she's expecting is to get broken up with. but little does she know, it opens a window for her bestfriend, matt, to tell her what he's been trying to for years; that he's hopelessly in love with her. headed off to vegas for her dream music festival, matt (and the rest of their crew) try to find a way to open her eyes to what she's been blind to for years... that it's been them all along.
executive produced & cowritten by sienna @rootbeerworshiper
contains: pining, brokenhearted reader, fluff, cussing, flashbacks (in italics), 2.4k words, dual pov
a/n: sigh, i couldn't bring myself to proofread tn. maybe tmw. also ik the real lovers and friends festival is only one day BUT i needed it to be 3 days so just vibe lil baby
series masterlist
Y/N's POV
“How the fuck are you still not done packing?” Nick questions, standing there like a disappointed father while I shove random articles of clothing into my suitcase.
“I….. well I’m not sure. I just procrastinated.” I reply, a slight wash of embarrassment settling over me as I attempt to zip up an already full pouch in the suitcase.
Madi just laughs from the couch, her bags packed and placed neatly beside her. “Y/N always takes forever to pack. It’s just who she is."
“Well I want to meet the person who’s great idea it was to book plane tickets for a six am departure time.” I groan, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I think about what else I might need.
“Hey, are we ready to go?” A familiar voice says, walking out of his bedroom on the main floor.
“There you go! The man of the hour.” Nick jokes, gesturing towards Matt who’s walking towards the living room with freshly wet hair and a duffle bag slung on his shoulders.
“Y/N, are you still not done packing?” Matt questions, walking over to me after setting down his bag on the floor.
I look up at him, scolding him with my eyes. “No, I'm not done Matthew. Someone decided to book the world’s earliest flight.”
He chuckles softly, bending down to my level and beginning to help you repack slightly, his hands rolling up my clothes smaller than I could have.
For whatever reason I can’t bring myself to look away, infatuated by his focus as he tucks away random shirts into my suitcase.
This is until his eyes meet mine, looking up at me and holding my gaze for a moment. My head keeps telling me to look away, but it’s as if my body is speaking for me, our eyes maintaining contact until someone walks in, the sound of the front door breaking the hold we shared.
I cough, clearing my throat as Nate makes his way up the stairs. “Are we ready to go?” he asks, making his hands comfortable on his hips.
Before I can speak, Matt answers. “Yeah I think we’re good now”
“Wait where the fuck is Chris?” Nick asks, standing up from his spot on the couch next to Madi.
“Did no one wake him up?” Nate questions. “This happened last time too.”
I laugh at the irony of being judged for packing at the last minute when a member of our group is still sound asleep. “He’ll be fine. It takes him two seconds to pack.”
“Christopher!” Nick singsongs, skipping out of the room and heading to annoy Chris awake. Nate laughs and trails behind, yelling something about the city that never sleeps.
Madi and I share a long-suffering look before I turn back to Matt and shrug. “I think I’ve got everything.”
He sweeps his eyes over the room doing a last scan, his eyes stalling on the kitchen counter. “You’re not taking your glasses?”
“Nah. I’ll put my contacts in when we get there. I don’t really need to see anything before that.” I say as I place my suitcase on the ground and yank up the handle.
“Okay.” Matt says, hesitating and dragging out the word like he’s unsure.
Before I can respond, Nate and Nick come back up the stairs, each of them holding one of Chris’ bags. He trails behind them, yawning and clearly cranky. When he sees us staring at him, he throws us a hard glance. “What are you looking at motherfuckers? We going to Vegas or what?”
*********************************************************
After we get through security, we sit in our section huddled over Nick’s phone as he explains the itinerary. I squint down at the phone, throwing daggers at Matt when he gives me a pointed look. Okay so maybe he was right about the glasses. So what? Broken clocks babe.
“Wait!” I cut in as I look at Sunday’s lineup. “What if we miss N-Sync?”
“Then I’ll do my little dancey-dance.” Nate mutters under his breath and Madi pushes his shoulder.
“We won’t.” She assures me and I smile at her gratefully.
My phone pings alerting me that my ex has posted and my face drops. Before I can open Instagram, Nick looks over my shoulder and sighs. He holds out his hand and gives me a stern face. “Give me your phone. I’m deleting the app.”
“But-”
“Y/N. You are not spending your birthday trip cyberstalking this fucking loser. Phone.”
I groan and hand over the phone, dropping my head onto Chris’ arm who pats my back awkwardly. Nick grins and hands me my phone back sans Instagram. “There. Download it back and I’ll hurt you.”
Over the intercom, an attendant calls for our group so we stand to line up. I walk over to Madi and link our arms since we had to get seats a few rows behind the rest of our group. “I downloaded the Corpse Bride just for you babe.” I say as we make it to our line.
“Um, actually” Madi says, pulling away from me, her face showing a tinge of panic. “Matt, is it okay if we switch seats? I have something I need to talk to Nick about.”
Matt looks confused for a fraction of a second but nods and steps out of line, swapping spots with her.
I look between all my friends with a raised eyebrow, the feeling that I’m missing something rising. “What do you-” I start to ask but Matt cuts me off, uncharacteristically loud.
“What’s your favorite song of the week?” He asks, giving me a small private smile. I grin at the question, pulling out my phone to check.
“favorite color?” matt scrawls out, sliding a piece of paper across the desk when our teacher turns back to the board.
“light pink” i write back quickly, watching his reaction and smirking before he even writes back.
“basic.”
“okay mr.blue” i toss him an joking evil eye when i pass the note back and he bites his lip to hide a smile.
“favorite song?”
i stare at the note for a long time, tapping my pen against my chin, before i finally answer. “that’s impossible to answer. there’s too many to pick from.”
matt thinks for a while, leaning back into his chair. “what’s your favorite of the week?”
“probably selfcare by mac. why?”
he smiles over at me when he passes the sheet back. “i’ll keep asking you every week. maybe one day something will stick.”
And for the last six years, he’s done exactly that, remembering to ask like clockwork. I look up at him from under my lashes, already knowing he’s going to make fun of me. “Okay, hear me out.”
“Oh god-”
When we take off, I connect Matt and I’s headphones both to my phone so I can play him my throwback playlist. He’s being a bit of a hater but I know if we weren’t in public, he’d be jumping around and dancing to Jay Sean’s Down.
I huff in frustration as I bring my phone closer to my face, feeling a lot like a grandma. Matt leans down and grabs his backpack from between his legs, reaching inside and pulling out my glasses. I laugh without meaning to and give him a grateful smile. “You’re such a know-it-all.”
“Someone’s got to be.” He responds, leaning over my seat and hitting skip when Akon comes on.
As a 90’s love song starts up, I notice Matt bouncing his leg a bit like he does when he’s nervous. I furrow my brows that this, knowing he’s not usually an anxious flier. When I drop my head on his shoulder, he stills immediately so I keep it there, closing my eyes and letting the music take me away. The last thing I register before I fall asleep is the pressure of Matt resting his head gently on top of mine.
*********************************************************
“Wake up, Madi!” I say as I flop onto her bed. “Let’s go see the turtles.”
She's been crashed out in the bed since we made it to the hotel an hour ago and she's showing no signs of moving soon.
“Go. Away.”
I can definitely understand her want for a nap after that flight but thankfully I’m wide awake. Matt and I managed to sleep the entire flight away unlike our friends. They apparently started up an entire Candy Crush tournament complete with a betting ring. Madi, the saint that you are.
“C’mon. You gotta get up for Y/N and Matt.” Nick says. When I throw him a puzzled look, he adds hastily, “and Nate and Chris!”
Weird.
Madi groans but rolls out of bed like a trooper to Nick and I’s chants of encouragement. While she goes to touch up her makeup and Nick makes sure the boys are ready, I order the Uber. When it’s confirmed, I open my messages, reading the one I received last night for the hundredth time.
‘i’m sorry. i wish it was you"
My fingers hover over the keyboard as a million replies rush to my head but I force myself to put the phone down instead. I’m on my dream trip with people who love me. Somehow I can make that be enough. Even if I wasn’t enough for Asher.
When we pull up to the aquarium, I’m bouncing with excitement. I look over at Chris knowing he loves shit like this just as much as me. “What’s first?”
To my left, Nate opens up the map of the aquarium, looking like a dad on vacation. “I vote seahorses.”
“Lame!” I protest, looking over his shoulder. “They have a fucking shark tunnel, bro.”
“But can their males get pregnant?” Chris retorts as if that is the most obvious deciding factor there could be. I roll my eyes and look back as Matt gently touches my elbow.
“I’ll go with you to the sharks and we can meet back up later.”
I clap excitedly before waving at the rest of our group and heading upstairs.
“It’s been a lot of me and you so far, huh? Hope you’re not getting sick of me.” I joke as we step to the side and allow a mom with a stroller to pass us.
But Matt doesn’t laugh, he just shakes his head giving me a quiet and earnest, “Not possible.”
In the tunnel, we stand shoulder to shoulder and look up as a tiger shark swims over our heads. I glance over at Matt, noticing how the reflection of the water tinges his face a cool blue, and let my eyes wander down his jawline.
When he flicks his eyes back to me, I look away, pointing at a shark in the distance. “I wish she’d come closer. She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. She is.” He replies, but when I look back at him he’s not looking into the tank at all. When I open my mouth to question him, I hear someone call our names.
“What, Nick?” Matt says, sounding a bit irritated.
“They are going to let us hold the baby turtles!” He says, his voice pitching up in excitement.
At this, Matt and I share a glance before we take off out of the tunnel, pushing each other childishly to be the first in line.
While we’re waiting for the show-and-tell to start, sitting criss-cross applesauce like a bunch of kids, my phone dings so I pull it out. My heart drops when I open a text from one of my friends with a screenshot of Asher’s instagram story.
It’s a picture of him and Olivia, her sitting casually in his lap while they both grin. When I look closer, I realize that I know the background; they are at his parent’s house. He’s already brought her home to them. My eyes start to water and I stand up.
The same Asher who told me time and time again that he just ‘wasn’t the Instagram official type’. The same Asher who only let me meet his mom once after months of asking.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks, standing with me and looking down at my phone. When she sees the picture, she whispers a quiet, “oh” and wraps her arms around me.
Chris takes the phone out of my hand and almost immediately starts ranting which is more than I can handle right now.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel. You guys should stay.” I say, grabbing my phone back and ordering another Uber.
“You’re not going back alone. Are you crazy?” Nate says, standing with the rest of the group.
I sigh in frustration, trying not to snap at them. I know they are just trying to help. “Please. I need to be by myself.”
*****************************************************
Matt POV
Thanking my Uber driver, I get out of the car with my bag and gently close the door. After Y/N left the aquarium, the day was pretty much over for me. After we sat together watching her location to make sure she got back to the hotel safely, I was the next to go.
I headed off to the store to get some of her favorite things in the hopes of maybe saving the first night of her trip. For some reason, I’m full of nerves as I knock on her room door. But to my surprise, Nick swings the door open instead of her.
“Oh, hey Matt. We were wondering where you were.” He says, his voice holding a bit of relief.
I give him a weary smile and peer over his shoulder, noticing Madi and Y/N sitting in the bed, all three of their faces covered in a lime green mask. Nick steps back to let me in and I stroll awkwardly over to stand in front of her.
“I…uh…got you some stuff. Thought it might make you feel a little better.” I say as I hand her the bag. Her eyes light up as she looks through the bag and I smile, taking in her face. She’s obviously been crying, the reddening of her eyes giving her away, but she seems okay.
“That is so sweet, Matty. You didn’t have to.” She says, reaching up and touching my arm.
I shrug, not knowing how to tell her I’d do it a thousand more times just to see her smile. “It’s nothing.”
I tell them all goodnight and head back to my room. As I leave the room, I hear Nick tell a joke and Y/N’s genuine full laughter. I pause outside the door, leaning against it for a second and smile sadly.
I’m just glad she has someone with her to make her laugh, someone that gives her comfort. Even if it’s not me. Even if it never is.
🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo
@clemlament @fwskullz @luv4kozume @lotsofloveloulou @thebottledwatersupplier
#sturniolo triplets#maggie b writes#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#nathan doe#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo fluff#sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo fanfic
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cece my love!! huge congrats once again on 10k!! could i please request a ‘smut-berry daiquiri’ with nico, 8. “let’s put that smart mouth to good use.”
(brat tamer nico brain go brrrrr) -lee
you are absolutely evil for making me spiral over brat tamer nico again but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
8. "Let's put that smart mouth to good use."
.
You were winding him up.
You knew you were. You knew you were testing his patience. You knew very well that you were being difficult, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. You were coming off a six day work week, your colleagues were getting on your last nerves and every minor inconvenience made it feel like the universe was against you.
From the barista fucking up your coffee order to your favourite blouse getting snatched against a handle at work and ripping, it was just a build up of small things that continued to irk you throughout the week. It was annoying, irritating and made you want to scream at everything in the world.
But that wasn’t an option, so now you were feeling a little snappy and impatient and you just fucking wished that everything in the world stopped so you could catch your breath for, like, two seconds.
“Did you say it was white or red wine that went better with the dish Nina recommended?”
It was a simple question. It wasn’t even like he had been pestering you with questions all day the way your colleagues had been doing the whole week. But it seemed to be pulling the fray, stray string that was holding the last of your patience together.
“Can’t you just google it?” You muttered under your breath, your eyes locked on whatever mind-numbing document your boss had forwarded to you, despite the fact it was well past your office hours.
Nico glanced towards you but didn’t say anything. Because he was Nico and he had the patience of a saint and he knew you had a rough week. And there was a level of guilt there, that he had been busy with the team and a roadie earlier in the week. He thought the homemade dinner might help cheer you up, help you relax a little.
But he was quickly seeing that wasn’t the case.
Ever since you had got home, it was whispered comments and sassy remarks muttered under your breath. It was eye rolls and scoffs and heavy sighs that made his teeth grit together. Just small little mannerisms that, usually, he would be able to brush off. Except now they were building up and he was losing his own patience.
You were acting like a brat, to put it simply. And Nico’s tolerance had reached it’s fucking limit when you grumbled something under your breath when he asked for a hand to load up the dishwasher.
You barely had a chance to grasp what was happening when you felt his hands on your hips, spinning you around and crowding you against the counter until his body was pressed up against yours. You gaped up at him, the words that were racing through your head a few seconds ago now lost as you stared up at your boyfriend.
His brows were furrowed together, strands of his hair falling down to frame his face. He looked pretty, even if he looked fucking pissed with the soft glare and downturned lips.
“What’s your problem? I’m trying to be nice and you’re acting like this,” Nico muttered, hands propped on either side of you to trap you against the counter.
“I’m being fine,” you managed to grumble out, lifting your chin to look up at him like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest. “Maybe you’re the problem.”
His brow cocked upwards. “Yeah? Think I’m the one acting like a brat?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you snapped back, the words leaving your lips before you even thought it through.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Got anything else to say?”
“Maybe I do—” You started, that slight twinge of irritation hitting you again as you itched to get rid of it. But before you could even finish your sentence, Nico’s fingers were squishing your cheeks together as you looked up at him, slightly surprised but mostly intrigued.
“Such a brat,” he tsked, tilting his head as he glanced over your face. The way your big eyes were locked on him, the way your body was leaning into his touch, the way your lips looked so pretty and tempting all at once. “What am I gonna do with you?”
You went to say something, but only a slightly choked out whine left your lips when you felt him push his leg to rest between yours.
“Is this what you wanted?” He said, his voice leaning close enough to mocking that it had your body flushing in response. “Wanted my attention? Wanted to rile me up until I snapped?”
You swallowed, nodding your head a little.
“Poor baby,” he cooed as his other hand rested on your hips, squeezing softly to stop you from wiggling against his thigh. “My lil’ brat just needed to have the attitude fucked out of her, hm?”
Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft buzz replacing the racing thoughts that had been overwhelming you all week as you felt his hand dip under the hem of your shirt.
“Why so quiet now?” Nico commented, squeezing your cheeks until your gaze met his. “You were being so mouthy before. Where’s that gone, hm? Not gonna tell me what you want?”
“Nico,” you whined softly when you felt his hand pull away from your torso, now resting down at your hip again. His other hand moved away from your cheeks, softly cupping your face and the soft act made your heart flutter.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, soft but demanding and it made your stomach dip.
“You,” you breathed out. “Please. I just…I just want you.”
He watched you closely. “Gonna be a good girl?”
“So good,” you murmured, your lips slowly parting as his thumb brushed against your bottom lip. Before he could even string a sentence together, your lips wrapped around his thumb, sucking as a low groan sounded from the back of your throat.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, hooded eyes watching as you lazily sucked on his thumb, tongue swirling around his digit like you usually did with his cock. “Let’s put that smart mouth to good use. See how snarky you get when your throat is all fucked out, hm?”
A pathetic whine sounded from you, one that was downright filthy but made his grin widen nonetheless.
“There’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth. “Now, are you gonna listen or do I have to carry you to the bedroom?”
.
#cece's cocktail celebration#nico hischier#nhl#new jersey devils#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier fic#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier smut#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot#nhl smut
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good night, bloodsucker
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2,114
warnings: swearing, a little anxiety, fluff (let me know if i forgot something)
a/n: hi! this is a little short and sweet fic for you. i hope maybe someone will be into it. i’m starting to feel a little better about writing, and this one made me happy, so that’s something. also, this is dedicated to the one and only @clovermunson (the crowd goes wild!!) for having such a lovely brain and trusting me to handle this. i love you all to the moon and back. keep kicking ass. <33
————
Wayne is unable to see the television screen but for a few seconds at a time. It’s making what was meant to be a relaxing night off…anything but relaxing.
He huffs and sets his drink down.
“Boy, would you quit your pacin’?”
The boy in question scoffs, continuing to move back and forth across the room, occasionally pausing to peek out the window or fuss with something on the kitchen counter. It’s like somehow he thinks an idea will swoop in through the panes and seep into his brain. Like it will materialize before him and all will be resolved.
It’s been another five minutes of this when the elder Munson can’t take it anymore.
“Eddie!”
“WAYNE!”
He rubs his temple, chuckling at his nephew’s panic. He pauses the tv.
“You gotta calm down, kid.”
Eddie slams his hands up against his face so hard that the slap resonates throughout the room. He peeks out from between his fingers.
“I know! I know. I just—this is our first date ever, and I have a tendency to be a royal fuck up, and I don’t want to ruin this.”
Wayne pats the cushion beside him, encouraging the boy to take a seat.
“You won’t ruin it. She said yes to going on with you, didn’t she? Now all you gotta do is be yourself.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, preparing to argue, but Wayne holds up a hand.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ed. You’re already friends, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah—”
“And you want to go out with her?”
“Yeah, I mean—”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
They both stop speaking, and Eddie looks at Wayne, eyes wide with nerves.
“I don’t know how first dates work, Wayne! Can’t you just tell me what to do?”
Eddie slides down off the couch until he’s flat on the floor.
Wayne scoots forward, looking down at his nephew. He’s much too big to be moping on the carpet. His hair is splayed out around him, and Wayne can’t help but think about how this has been Eddie’s default reaction to anxiety since he got dropped off on his doorstep. Some things never change.
Eddie thinks his uncle looks incredibly wise, looming over him like this. “What plans have you got for tonight?” Wayne asks.
Eddie puts his hands under his head, feigning collectedness. “We’re seeing a movie.”
“Okay. A movie. What else?”
The boy gulps. “I thought I’d take her for ice cream. And that way we could sit and talk or whatever. Shit, is that a bad idea?”
Wayne reaches down and smacks Eddie’s knee, though the gesture is free of malicious intent.
“No. You have a lot of bad ideas, but that isn’t one of them. I’m sure it’ll be fine, kiddo.”
Eddie sits up, mumbling under his breath. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, yeah, yeah.” He almost smacks his head on the coffee table when he stands.
He’s determined not to pace again, so he calmly, unnecessarily slowly, sits back down on the couch. He laces and unlaces his fingers.
“Should I get her flowers?”
“Eddie.” Wayne downs the last of the beer he’d been nursing in one go.
Eddie looks at his watch. He doesn’t even have time for flowers. He’s been panicking for so long that he actually needs to head out so that he can pick you up and you won’t think he forgot about you—
He stands just as quickly as he’d sat down. “I gotta go, Wayne.”
He follows Eddie to the door and meets his eyes. The very same doe eyes that have always gotten him what he wanted. Because Eddie is a suck-up, and Wayne always gives in.
“Just be yourself, alright? You're gonna be fine. Treat her nice, watch out for her. Make sure she’s comfortable. And have a good time.”
Wayne presses a rough kiss to Eddie’s forehead, though it’s over his messy bangs. Wayne Munson is a surprisingly affectionate person, especially towards people he loves, no matter how brooding his demeanor is.
“Okay. Yeah, I got this. I’m a gentleman. It’s gonna be fine.”
Eddie’s halfway to the van when he realizes he was lost in hyping himself up and forgot his keys. Wayne notices though, and tosses them to him from the front steps. It’s pure dumb luck that Eddie catches them.
“Good luck, Ed.”
“You too!”
Wayne sees Eddie smack his head against the steering wheel in anguish. He laughs it off, stepping back inside the now quiet trailer.
“Get a grip, goddammit,” Eddie fusses to himself, pulling out of the park. “Get a damn grip.”
————
“You really have a type, don’t you?”
Eddie’s looking at you, eyes wide with glee, cheeks all rosy from laughing.
“Maybe. But I guess it works in your favor, doesn’t it, Munson?”
He tosses your shared empty popcorn bucket in the trash. You’re still sipping on your Icee, the blue raspberry flavoring having turned your tongue blue.
“That it does.”
Eddie realized after the movie had started that you seemed to have the hots for every damn vampire on the screen. And he couldn’t help but notice the subtle similarities between the looks and interests of those characters and himself.
“It’s not my fault you’re all so pretty.”
He holds the door open for you. It’s one of the many sweet gestures he’s provided you with over the course of the night. He’s opened every door. He ordered your popcorn, helped you up the stairs in the theater, and now he’s waiting while you finish your drink—albeit a little obnoxiously just to tease him.
“Is that a compliment?”
You pull on the chain attached to his belt loop. “Yep. You’re very pretty. And I’m glad I waited to see this with you.”
Eddie’s blushing. He’d try to hide it if he weren’t so intrigued by your words.
“Waited?”
“Yeah, I had a friend ask me to see The Lost Boys with them on opening night, but I really wanted to see it with you. Figured you’d like it, too.”
He leans in and sweetly presses his forehead against yours, just for a moment.
“Well that’s cute. And I did like it. I’m honored you wanted to see it with little ‘ol me.”
“I think I’d like to see all the movies with you.” The words are leaving your mouth before you can second guess yourself, and the look on his face is completely worth it.
“Shit, you really are just making me feel special tonight, huh?”
You’re still messing with the chain on his jeans, but your fingers move upward, finding purchase on a patch sewn onto his vest. The messy stitching feels comforting against the pad of your finger.
“You are very special, Eddie.”
He won’t argue with you. Not when he can tell that you’re being earnest. When it’s practically emanating from you. You think you could dedicate your heart and soul to him, worship him like he’s some ancient deity, and you’d never grow tired of him.
“Right back at you, sweetheart.” You grin at his words, and suddenly he’s feeling loads more confident knowing he can make you so giddy. He can’t believe he landed a date with such a fucking gem.
“You want a milkshake?” he asks, raising a brow.
“‘Course I do. I’m not a psycho.”
Eddie snorts. It’s a cute sound. One you’re very pleased that you got him to make.
“There’s a place up here, on the corner. We can walk, but we have to cross the street a couple times, so I think you’re gonna have to hold my hand.”
You’re sure you’ve never smiled so brightly. So stupidly, head over heels for the boy in front of you. He bends at the waist and extends his hand.
“I think you’re right. That seems like the very best option.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
You slide your palm against his, and you’d be embarrassed at the sheer amount of butterflies in your tummy if you weren’t so happy to be holding Eddie’s hand.
His rings collide with your own, and his thumb starts rubbing over yours almost automatically, as if this is something he’s been doing with you forever.
He swings your entwined hands during the short walk, and you don’t know it, but secretly he’s trying to memorize each line, each dry patch or scratch that covers your skin. He could hold your hand forever.
When you’re in line, waiting on the milkshakes he ordered for you, again, you slide your other hand up his arm until it rests on his bicep, and Eddie thinks he might melt right there on the shop floor.
You resting your head on his shoulder just about ruins his life. He catches you looking at his hand, and before he knows it you’re bringing it upward, pressing your lips to the back of it and adjusting the bracelet on his wrist.
“You should let me paint your nails.”
Eddie meets your eyes. He doesn’t look freaked by the idea, rather like he’s contemplating letting you do so.
“Okay. You wanna go next door and find some polish after this?”
You lift your head, and there’s a little mark on your cheek from a crease in his jacket. Eddie presses his thumb against the mark and smiles.
“Really?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” you grin. You squeeze his arm a little tighter, and the look on your face makes Eddie realize Wayne was right. There was nothing to worry about.
————
Eddie’s hand rests on the center console in his van. It’s still parked outside the theater.
You had your cup resting there too, but with each sip you took, chin against the lid, Eddie was still worried you’d spill it. Not because of the mess it’d make, no—he’s made tons of messes in his car. But because he couldn’t bear to see you cry over spilled milkshake. You let him taste it, and it is pretty damn good.
So now, Eddie holds it in the hand that’s supposed to be drying. You lift your head up, and he tilts the straw towards you, allowing you to take a sip. The excitement on your face every time he does it makes him feel like he could sit here and feed you for the rest of his life.
He thinks he may be in deeper than he realized. Hell, he’s allowing you to paint his nails in the van, the window cracked and music turned down lower than it has ever been.
Every once in a while you catch glimpses of conversations coming from the passing moviegoers, and you’ll both giggle simultaneously. This evening has felt like some fever dream, something Eddie never would’ve imagined he’d experience, let alone deserve.
You stick your tongue out and pull up Eddie’s hand, appraising your work. Once satisfied, you start putting on a layer of clear polish. Eddie tries to read the teeny words on the bottle over the lid of his own cup.
“What’s that for?”
“Seals it all in and keeps it on longer. Figured this might give it a chance at outlasting your daily escapades.”
He laughs. It’s a slow, sweet sound, and you wish you could bottle it up and take it home with you.
Eddie holds his nails up to the air vents. You grin at him, tucking the bottles of nail polish into his jacket pocket so he can keep them.
He leans his head towards yours, but he can’t quite reach. “C’mere, pretty please.”
You incline your own, and he presses his lips to your forehead. You feel yourself flush.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I really like them. Very metal.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “I’m glad you like them, Eddie. I had a really good time tonight.”
“I did too. Maybe next time you’ll let me paint your nails?”
You swipe your thumb over the very prominent dimple that’s appeared on his cheek with the way he’s smiling at you.
“Of course I will. Next time you can pick the movie.”
“Deal.”
When Eddie drives you home shortly after, you get another kiss on the forehead. He can’t help but think, watching you go up your front steps, that you really do deserve some nice flowers. What he doesn’t know is that you think the same thing about him.
You unlock the door and turn to face him one last time for the evening.
“Good night, bloodsucker!” you shout, grinning and hoping he’ll laugh.
He does. Success.
He really is gonna have to stay away from Chinese for awhile. But it was worth it. Just like he thought, he’s head over heels. Maybe you’re the vampire.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#savannah’s fics#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson one shot#wayne munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x female reader#eddie stranger things
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dear autumn / jeon wonwoo
➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)
➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au
➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍🏻♀️) // playlist🎶
➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think
➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf
In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what.
Alternatively,
He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.
Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.
They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.
They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.
He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so.
It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.
The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.
Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.
He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.
It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.
Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.
Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.
Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.
…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.
Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.
It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself.
He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…
“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.
“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”
“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”
“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”
“Got it.”
Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.
“Are you throwing this away too?”
Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.
“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.
Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.
Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.
And maybe…
Maybe he’ll also–
“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”
Yeah.
Maybe.
Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.
The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.
By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight.
Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.
So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.
And he doesn’t mind.
He really doesn’t.
But if there’s anything he could wish for…
He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.
Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.
He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.
I hope I can find you… whoever you are.
He dreams of another memory that night.
But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.
He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.
Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.
Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.
It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.
He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.
Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.
So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.
Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.
It’s all just practical.
But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.
Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.
Memories.
Because no matter what–
“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.
Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.
What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.
At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs, still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.
Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.
He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.
Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.
Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.
Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.
He blinks.
Why… had he not considered that before?
Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–
“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”
Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.
“Autumn?”
Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.
It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.
And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.
Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.
“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”
You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.
Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.
“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.
The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.
“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name.
Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?
You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.
On Soulmates: Love without Commitment
Xu Minghao
You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.
“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”
“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”
You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.
“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”
You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.
“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”
Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”
“Fate and destiny?”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’s bullshit.”
He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.
“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”
He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.
“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”
“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”
Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.
“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.
What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.
It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.
You shrug, not offering any explanation.
He doesn’t press.
“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”
You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.
You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.
You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.
Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.
You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.
You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.
You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.
It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.
There was nothing magical about it.
You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.
Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?
What a fucking drama you live in.
“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”
“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.
You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.
You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.
You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)
But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.
The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.
He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.
Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?
You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.
“Should we go out?”
“Where?”
“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.
Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?
His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.
No.
He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.
That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before.
Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.
You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.
“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes.
His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.
“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow. “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.
Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.
It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.
He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.
Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks.
“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.
“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.
“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”
You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face.
But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.
He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.
Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.
Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.
Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.
“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”
Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.
“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”
“Two is fine.”
“And the usual drink?”
“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”
You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.
Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.
Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.
Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.
What the fuck.
“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”
You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.
“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.
“Hey, I–”
Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.
He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.
But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.
He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.
What even is the situation?
He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.
It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.
Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.
What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.
He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.
He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.
He doesn’t even know that was possible.
Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.
But he knows he’s not that special.
He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.
Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.
Is this the work of the universe too?
Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.
You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.
It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.
Wonwoo has always liked the number three.
Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.
It’s fun.
Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city.
He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.
So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.
Anyway.
He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.
He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.
It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.
He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.
Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).
Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.
Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.
He doesn’t ask.
“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”
Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.
“What kind of bar?”
“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”
“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.
Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.
The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week.
After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.
Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.
The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.
It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.
They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.
“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”
Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.
A subtle one, though.
“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”
“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”
He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.
And she still has to be friends with him.
He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.
Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.
Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.
“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”
Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.
“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”
Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.
“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”
She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.
“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.
Even if it’s only a little.
“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”
Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.
“Sucks to be us.”
It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.
“Sucks to be us.”
His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.
Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?
He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.
How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.
Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.
Fuck, he’s down bad.
In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.
He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.
That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.
“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”
He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.
Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.
“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.
He needs to get away.
“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.
“Are you by yourself?”
“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”
You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.
“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.
It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.
“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”
He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”
It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.
Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.
Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?
But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread.
“Here, have this.”
That’s why. You think to yourself.
Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.
You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.
“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”
He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.
Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.
The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.
You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.
“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”
“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”
He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”
“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”
He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?
“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”
You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”
His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.
“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.
“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”
“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.
“They’re too… cheesy.”
“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”
“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.
“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all.
He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.
But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.
So he lets go.
Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you.
Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.
This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.
He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.
“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.
“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”
“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.
“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.
Because you don’t know.
You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.
Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.
But you were never that excited.
It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.
“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”
Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.
“Sorry?”
“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”
You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud.
You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.
But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend.
So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.
Yeah.
That’s how you’ll go down this road.
“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”
“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.
“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”
You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.
And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.
Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.
What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying.
It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?
He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.
It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you’re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.
“Won–”
“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”
“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline.
“But your soul–”
“Wonwoo, please?”
It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.
It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?
It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be.
The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.
It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.
It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.
You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?
“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”
He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.
“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”
Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.
“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”
True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.
“Here, drink this.”
“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.
But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?
“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.
“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.
He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”
Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.
Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.
He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.
But you?
You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.
How would you feel if you knew?
Would you freak out?
Would you hate him for hiding it?
Would you think he was planning something against you?
Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?
“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”
Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.
“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”
It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?
“Did you… know me in your past life?”
Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“As honest as you can be.”
“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”
“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.
“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.
It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.
“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”
It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.
You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.
It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it.
The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.
And then there was that dream.
Wait.
Right, that dream.
Is that dream…?
“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”
It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.
“H–how?”
“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”
“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”
“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”
“I see…”
You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.
Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?
You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.
You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.
“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.
“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”
“But–”
“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”
“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”
“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.
“Do you love me?”
Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.
“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”
“Do you love me?”
“Look–I…”
“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”
Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.
“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other.
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?
You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.
“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”
“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”
“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.
“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also.
“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.
Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.
“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”
You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.
“So what do you suppose we should do?
“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”
“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”
Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.
For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?
But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.
You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.
Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.
You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.
When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.
He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.
“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”
Wonwoo waits.
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.
There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.
He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.
He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.
But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.
Like his dreams.
Like his memories.
He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.
The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.
Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.
The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.
You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.
“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest.
“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”
“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.
He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.
Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.
“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”
Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him.
But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.
You couldn’t.
That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.
“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.
“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head.
“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”
“Wait–burning?”
“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.
“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”
The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.
“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.
“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”
“No pain, at all?”
You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.
“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”
“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”
“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”
“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”
Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder.
“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”
You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.
“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.
It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”
From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.
How could Joshua say that in his position?
For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.
But where does this leave the two of you now?
“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”
You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.
“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”
“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.
“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.
“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?
“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”
“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime.
“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”
“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”
“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”
He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.
“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.
Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.
“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.
“What have?”
“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”
“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”
He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.
“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”
“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.
It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.
“Are we really doing this?”
“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”
You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.
“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”
“I’m really–”
“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”
“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”
Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.
“Fuck the universe, indeed.”
It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.
Wonwoo grins.
His Autumn is finally here.
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pls tell me if you wanna be removed btw it's totally ok, no hard feelings!!
A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕
#caratwritersclub#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#seventeen fic#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenario#seventeen au#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo au#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines
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STUPID GRIMES carl grimes x fem!reader
warnings — both are 18+, e2l, reader has claustrophobia, reader is maggie and glenn’s adopted daughter, i literally can’t write e2l this sucks so bad i’m so sorry
your arms are crossed over your chest as you look out the window. you and carl had to go on a run, alone, without ripping each others throats out. seriously, daryl left you a note that read ‘don’t rip each others throats out’.
carl had his music blasting through the radio, fingers drumming against the steering wheel completely ignoring your presence. you hated it. he always acted so unbothered as if you didn’t get under his skin. he always acted like such an asshole, criticizing your aim and telling you his is better. “even though i lost an eye!”
always wearing that fucking hat and those fucking flannels and fucking jeans that made him look too good for a total dickhead. it’s like the petty preteen feud started getting fueled by sexual frustration and made you both mad at each other for being hot.
carl hands you the list, “follow it, nothing else. we need to get in and get out.” was he ever going to let the time you saw a cute top on, in your defense what looked like a dead walker, and almost got bit?
“i’m just a girl, grimes.” he rolls his eyes, turning his music up. “plus i can defend myself, you can’t silence me!” with a smirk he turns it all the way up.
you see what looks like a run down store in the distance, pointing at it. in return you get carl yelling, “i know what im doing!” you hop out of the car when he parks, looking over the list quickly.
“you take the walkers on that side, i’ll take this side.” you point from left to right, causing carl to scoff.
“and if i want the right side?”
you huff, “okay smartass, take right. where you don’t have someone in your blind spot to cover you.” carl simply rolls his eyes, and without another word goes to the left side of the store. just as you thought, a few walkers to carl’s right were headed right for him.
you run over and stab every one of them in the head before they could get close, abandoning your side of the store. with the walkers all around you growling in your ear, you didn’t notice the noise growing.
“do i seriously always have to save your ass?” carl looks back at you with a glare before his face widens with shock. he grabs your arm and makes a beeline for the back. he saw the back room when you both walked in, and he hoped there were no dead waiting for you both.
he opens the door and practically throws you in, barricading it behind you two with the metal cart against the wall. you hear a growl behind you and whip around, there’s a walker in a mop bucket reaching out to you. you jam your knife through it’s eye, turning around to look at carl breathless.
carl chuckles and leans against the wall, “who saved who’s life now?”
you grab the mop in the bucket and place it on the walker’s head, masking it’s gross face. “what the hell? i was handling it.”
carl gives you an incredulous look, “handling it? the herd of walkers coming up behind you?” as of right on cue you hear their desperate hands clawing at the door. you sigh and walk around the tiny custodian closet, looking around for something, anything to help you out of this mess.
carl’s never seen you so antsy, he pushes himself off the wall and walks to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder awkwardly, rubbing it a little. “we’ll be fine, we still have our bag, our radios.” you nod, hating this side of you coming out. especially around carl of all people.
you swat his hand away, “i don’t need your pity.”
carl scoffs and goes back to his spot against the wall. “this is why i don’t help you.” you glare at him, leaning down to put your hands on your knees and breathe slowly. focusing on everything but the small room with walls that seemed to close in on you.
“you’re just an asshole, that’s why i don’t want your help.” carl looks at you with a monotone expression. you’ve known him since you met at the farm. daryl found you looking for sophia, and ever since maggie and glenn adored you like you’re their own. but with carl, it’s like he grew out of his menace phase with everyone else but it stuck with you.
“and when i give you the treatment you deserve, you go back to being one.” he doesn’t say a word, he just watches you pace.
“did you never grow up?” you can’t help but word vomit, it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling. getting all of your thoughts out. “i mean, you clearly did. you’re so nice to everyone. why are you so different with me?”
that’s when carl remembers it, your claustrophobia. he remembered that one time in the prison, getting caught with him, maggie, and lori. even that room made you feel weak and petrified. it’s one of the only instances you remember him treating you kindly.
he gets close to you again, face inches from yours. he went to speak but nothing came out. your glassy eyes look at him in a way they haven’t before. you feel so close, the attraction he’d formed towards you was becoming overwhelming and he began to step back.
you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close again. “don’t…” you look into his eye before hugging him tightly. “don’t. the fear goes away when it feels like it’s just us.” carl let’s out a ragged breath, bringing his arms up around your back. “we can pretend this didn’t happen later.”
“we don’t have to,” he whispers and you pull away, looking at him wide eyed.
“but we will. i’m not weak.”
carl shakes his head and grabs your hand, “this doesn’t make you weak. it makes you human, and that’s not common feature for people to still have nowadays.”
you scoff out a laugh, “when did you get all wise?” carl laughs back, his gaze is soft, foreign to you. you let a few moments go by, standing there hand in hand. it should be awkward, but for some reason it wasn’t.
you bite your lip before speaking up again, “answer my question.”
carl laughs confusedly, “i think i get it from my dad?” you give him a playful glare and slap his arm,
“not that, stupid.” you go silent again, scared to ruin the fact he’s finally acting normal around you. “why do you act so different with me?” it’s like the air got thicker, in the way it did before when you would bicker, but not with the negative undertones. just tension, a lot. tension you don’t want to name out of embarrassment.
carl licks his lips and glances at yours. “as ridiculous as it sounds…” his face gets closer, “i feel like i can be free with you. let the parts of me that had to be buried out.” his voice turns into a whisper against your lips. “i guess i don’t remember how to do that without acting like such a little shit.”
you both laugh but it doesn’t last long, his hand comes up to your waist causing your breath to hitch. “it got worse when you just,” carl sighs and closes his eye. “became too hard to resist. i was so mad that we were stuck in this frenemy limbo, i made it worse.”
“damn,” you sigh, causing carl to furrow his brow. “you’re very stupid grimes.”
“shut up,” he snaps, pressing his lips against yours. you hum in surprise, but bring your hands up to cup his face. your thumb runs soothingly over his scarred cheek causing him to pull away. “it’s gross, i’m sorry.”
“it’s pretty,” you mumble, pulling him in to kiss him again. he disconnects your lips and shakes his head.
“pretty?”
you roll your eyes, “carl, you’re pretty. your scar is pretty. you’re supposed to be shutting me up right now.” carl blinks and your lips are back on his. you’re more eager this time, impatient. you part your mouth urging him to deepen the kiss. you sigh into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck.
his other hand comes to the other side of your waist, pressing you against the wall. your back thuds against it, eliciting a whimper out of you. “sorry…” he mumbled against your lips. he pulls back a little, eye hooded and gaze trained on your swollen lips. “i like the sounds you make, though.”
#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes#carl grimes smut#twd x reader#twd fanfiction#twd oneshot#twd fluff#twd imagine#twd smut#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes oneshot#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes x fem!reader
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Just SoapGhost being healthy and shit. Ghost is open about his problems with intimacy and touch and they work through it.
Ghost sat across from Soap, watching him silently. He was beautiful. Kind. Fierce. Everything he looked for in a partner.
Their date had been perfect. Soap picked a restaurant He thought they’d both like and he’d been a stupid fucking gentleman, even going so far as to request a secluded booth for privacy.
Ghost tapped his fingers against the table, feeling very nervous. This was a first date. He didn’t have to bring this up. But if he waited, it would hurt more for both of them. Especially if Soap couldn’t handle it.
“Johnny.”
Soap paused his chatter to look at him. “Simon. Don’t use your serious voice right now. I got other plans after this! You can’t end the date so soon!”
Ghost smiled at him softly. “No. I don’t want the date to end.” He sat back. “Its something else. I just… don’t want to lead you on.”
Soap frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ghost tapped his fingers for another second, surprisingly having to gain the courage to say this. “If we never had sex, do you think you could handle it?” He refused to look at Soap.
“I… I don't know. I guess I hadn't thought about it. Is it the mask thing? We can find work arounds. I'm okay with whatever makes you comfortable.” Soap reached over and grabbed Ghost’s hand. “Whatever boundaries You need.” It was so sweet. It made it harder for Ghost to push but he knew it wasn’t fair to let Soap have some… misconception.
“Its not the mask. Johnny, I’d take the mask off for you right now if we were alone. I have… issues. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Don’t tell me you can’t get it up. I’m just fine topping.” Soap joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood but also make it clear that wouldn’t bother him.
Ghost took Soap’s hand and kissed it softly. “Intimacy. Its the touch. I wish it was that easy. I could pop a fucking pill and ignore it. The mask is part of it, but Johnny, a lot of… horrible things happened to me. And some of them.” Ghost cut himself off at the horrified expression on Soap’s face
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Trust me I don’t believe you’ll try it or anything. I know you’re not an idiot. But… touch is hard for me. You’re an exception. Usually. But what happens when its more than just your hands? When there’s no clothes between us? No buffers. I’d love to believe I’m fine. That it’ll be easy. But it won’t. I’ll have to initiate things. Put up boundaries.”
Soap was quiet, clearly mulling over his words. “Do you not want to try at all?” It was light. Purposely devoid of tone so Ghost couldn’t detect anything. He hated that Soap could pull that off. For a man so open, it was an unexpected talent.
“I want to try. Just… if i never get there, i don’t want you to have wasted your time.”
Soap softened. “No time with you is wasted.”
Ghost sighed. “You’re so sweet. It’s complicated. I just didn’t want you to go into this thinking it would be easy.”
“Never easy with us, Lt. But I’ll get it figured out.” Soap smiled at him.
~~~
The very first time they properly touched each other was Ghost initiated, just as they talked about. His hand went to Soap’s back as he was talking to someone. They were just getting a bit close and he decided he needed to do something about it.
The moment he was touching Soap’s, the man basically purred and the unwanted pest trying to catch Soap’s attention quickly got the message. Ghost rubbed his thumb in circles as Soap melted into him. When the man left, Ghost gently pulled his hand away, not missing that Soap tried to follow.
~~~
Their first kiss was messy. It was mid mission. And it occurred to Ghost that their situation had suddenly gotten so much dire than expected.
The hood he was wearing, along with the blades, made him look scarier than he was. But not to Soap. Never to Johnny, who kept smiling at him even when everyone else seemed to panic.
Ghost knew he needed to do this. An epiphany of sorts.
“Everyone stare at the damn wall.” He barked and people scrambled. Soap went to as well but he stopped him. Ghost gently turned him towards him and, with as little thinking as he could manage, worried he’d talk himself out of it, he kissed him through the mask. It wasn’t the best. If he could, he would’ve taken it off, but they didn’t have time.
Soap froze in his arms before eagerly pressing back as much as he could. His arms went up to his biceps and he squeezed tight. “What was that for?”
“Just… in case.”
Soap nodded solemnly before grinning wildly. “Let’s go get him.”
That night, when they were done with the mission, Ghost took his mask off and gave Soap a proper kiss. It got no farther, they just kept kissing, hands barely touching each other. Soap’s kept hovering right over Ghost’s shoulders, holding just a hint of apprehension.
Ghost didn’t reassure him.
~~~
Holding hands came after. For some reason. Somehow it was easier for Ghost to kiss rather than touch hands.
Soap’s hand wormed over to him, sitting between them now. His hand just barely brushed against Ghost’s thigh and he jumped so hard he almost rattled the table. Soap went to pull away but Ghost caught him by his wrist, gently tugging him closer until he sat his hand in his lap. Carefully, with the same care taken for defusing a bomb, Ghost tangled their fingers together. Even through his gloves, he could feel his warmth.
It felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be touching right now. But like usual, Soap was… better than anyone else. And he could put up for it if it meant Johnny kept smiling like that.
~~~
Sex.
Fuck.
Ghost had… agreed to try. Soap had simply asked him what their plans for the night were when he informed him of this. He had blushed bright red and just nodded.
Ghost was regretting all of this when he actually stood in his own bedroom.
Soap smiled at him reassuringly. “What do you want to keep on? Let’s start there.”
“Everything.”
“Okay. You can just undo your pants for now. And what would you like me to take off?”
Ghost swallowed and thought about it for a minute. “All of it. Take off everything.”
Soap’s breath caught and he slowly started to strip down, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He was gorgeous. Nice, tight body. Broad shoulders and so much tanned skin.
Ghost took a deep breath and slowly let it all out. It was just Johnny. Just him.
“What do you want from me, Si?” Johnny asked softly, his body already happily reacting. Despite what Ghost was seeing as the most awkward encounter of his life, Soap was achingly hard. “I’d do anything for ya. You know that.”
Ghost reached for him, gloves abandoned at the very least. Soap’s body was… very responsive. He jerked and his breathing would catch and just a small brush against his chest had Soap’s nipples hard. His thumb rubbed against one and Soap tried to press into him.
Ghost pushed him on to the bed and gently used his hands to stroke him. He could tell Soap was a little disappointed it was just his hands but he just needed a minute to psych himself up for more. Soap moaned softly as he kept stroking him.
“Feels good, sir. Feels so good.”
Ghost’s head started to swim. He was hard. He could tell physically he was enjoying but mentally, he felt miles away.
There was blood. Had to be. He was bleeding and hurt and someone else was gonna hu-
Soap grabbed his hoodie and pulled him closer. “I love you, Simon.”
Ghost was taken back by that but he pulled up his mask and kissed him. They settled into a rhythm as Ghost continued to stroke him. He grabbed one of Soap’s hands and pulled it under his shirt so Soap could feel his abs. Soap cursed and squeezed him.
“I love you so much. I love you. So much.” Soap promised as he kissed his lips and down his chin. “You’re beautiful.”
Ghost wanted to sob for some reason. But god did he love Soap. He pulled his mask completely off and started to kiss down his chest. Soap’s hands tangled in his hair instead, gently tugging.
Ghost pulled away, feeling his cock strain against his pants. He pinned him down and stroked him faster, finding himself rutting against Soap’s thigh. So good… Fuck so good.
They kissed and tangled themself together further. Soap’s hand found it’s way to his belt he undid it and slipped it off. He reached into Ghost’s pants and as soon as he touched him, all thoughts flew out the window. It was just them.
Ghost didn’t last very long. He was a bit embarrassed so he just focused on Soap. Tentatively, he licked a stripe up Soap’s cock and his lover followed immediately, coming all over his chest. His face was flushed and he bit his lip to keep any sounds in. Ghost could feel how tense he was beneath him as he finished.
“I love you, Johnny.”
He got a short affirmative in response.
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod mw2#ghostsoap#cod#soapghost#ghoap
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Dating Xavier Thorpe
warnings ✩° : bit of cursing, some suggestive things, wounds mentioned once.
pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x gn!reader
authors note ✩° : this guy. THIS GUY. when i say some people just LOOK like boyfriends, i mean him. LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN PERCY WHITE. CMON NOWWWWWW.
- You're always catching Xavier staring at you, even when you're dating, because he just loves admiring you.
- Xavier lets you tie his hair up into buns and ponytails, but won’t actually admit he likes you playing with it. There’s only one time he admits it and that’s because he can’t handle all the rubbing and tugging at his hair when you're playing with it, when all of a sudden it just comes out as a hoarse whisper.
“Fuck, keep doing that.”
He gets embarrassed after and doesn't mention it at all again.
- He really enjoys painting and sketching you. In fact he keeps a little Y/n sketchbook where it’s just messy pencil and charcoal sketches of you doing various things. He keeps it for secret use though, so it’s like he’s appreciating you from afar despite being in a relationship with you.
- Has multiple sketches of you in his journals, sketchbooks, loose paper that’s tacked onto his walls, just because he really loves how you look.
- Xavier gets jealous, like a lot. He’ll stick out his jaw, roll his neck, crack his fingers, grind his teeth, and stare at you and the person if he thinks somethings going on when it really isn’t.
- If you're talking to someone, he pays EXTRA close attention to you and that person, more on the person to see if they try anything. But he completely loses focus on anything else around him if he notices you with someone else.
- He thinks it’s SO fun to tease you and mess with you but he won’t go out of his way to embarrass you, especially in public. The occasional touch on your ankle under your desk, secret laugh when you screw something up, and shoving you around playfully are just fine in his mind.
- Making out in his art shed ends up scattering all his paint brushes and pencils onto the floor, but he doesn’t mind cleaning it up once you two are done.
- If you touch the hairs on the back of his head that are on the nape of his neck??? Bro is GONE. Melted. Puddle. Goop. Mush. No more Xavier.
- Brings you into hugs or kisses by tugging on your belt of your uniform or by your tie and catching your lips onto his as he grins in the kiss.
- Loves having you in his lap, just holding you and rubbing his thumbs against your waist or his hands clasped together and them resting on your stomach, especially in public when you're both just talking to people. It’s his way of sort of claiming you and letting other people know you two are inseparable.
- I think his love language would probably be a mix of acts of service and touch, but more leaning towards acts of service. Xavier will take so much off your plate without even being asked to because he genuinely wants the best for you and wants you to be at peace all the time.
- He’ll also buy things you like, like your favorite drink, and just place it on your head.
- Sneaks into your dorm all the time to hang out, but always avoids your roommate because he’s convinced they don’t like him. This makes a lot of awkward situations where your roommate walks in and sees him shirtless or coming out of the shower with just a towel on. Maybe that’s why they don’t like him...
- Somehow he always gets random bruises and cuts?? So you're stuck sort of fixing his wounds and wrapping gauze and bandages around his knuckles and fingers, placing bandaids over his cheeks and nose, and cleaning out everything because of possible infections.
“You know, you really don’t have to do this, Y/n. It’s not even deep this time.”
“Just shut up and let me do this. How did you even cut your lip in your sleep?”
“You know that is a great question.”
- If you get cold easily, he basically makes you wear his hoodies. They're always within dress code so you can easily slide it over your top, but even in private he makes you wear his clothes because 1. you look cute in them and 2. he would rather sizzle and burn than to see you shiver ONCE.
- Ok he doesn't seem like it, but Xavier can be super clumsy sometimes. Like if he’s laughing too hard, he’ll fall over and trip backwards, sometimes even bringing you down with him too. It can be pretty funny at times especially when you both fall together.
- Xavier really likes the way you smell, so in a totally not weird way when he hugs you he likes putting his hands up your back and stuffing his face into your neck or chest and staying there for as long as he can before you pry him off of you.
- He can be pretty petty sometimes so there are moments where he misjudges a situation and makes it bigger than it already is. Xavier is one to jump to conclusions so if he thinks you're cheating on him he will ignore you and give you rude stares until you finally confront and clear things up with him.
- After that he’s pretty content. Protective, but content.
- If you're mad at him, it’s like the end of the world to him. Xavier will quite literally sneak into your dorm if you’re ignoring him and confront you about it. There’s no boundaries he WOULDN'T cross for you, even breaking and entering.
- Definitely does a lot to impress you. Sometimes it’s not that noticeable but other times it’s very obvious when he does things to make you smile or laugh. Bonus points when you actually do because your smile becomes EXTREMELY contagious.
- He’s very obedient towards you, so arguments don’t last long. If you ask him to do something, he does it. Begs you to forgive him.
- Xavier loves bringing you out to the forest around his art shed where you two spend hours aimlessly just walking and talking about random things. He’ll even do the thing where he holds your hand when you walk up on a log or a rock to make sure you don’t fall and hurt yourself.
- Really likes having you around when he’s drawing, practicing archery, or fencing. He just does better when you're there to watch and support him!!!
#wednesday#wednesday series#wednesday fanfic#wednesday fic#wednesday xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe#wednesday xavier#xavier thorpe x reader#xavier thorpe x y/n#xavier thorpe fanfic#xavier thorpe fic#xavier thrope x you#xavier thorpe preferences#wednesday preferences#preferences#gn!reader#kaicubus
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