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queenofwands89 · 1 month

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Revelations

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Fem!Pilot!reader

Summary: Y/N overhears Jake's heartfelt confession about liking someone and dares to hope it's her. But when she sees him with another girl, intrigue and uncertainty swirl. Is she the one he truly desires, or has she misread the signs?

Word count: 3,010

Warnings: Angst, Misunderstanding, reader jumping to conclusions, eavesdropping, other character plotting against Jake and y/n, tears, sad, fluff, confessions.

Notes: This is somewhat of a continuation of this fic, but you don't have to read it because I intended it to be a standalone. Didn't have time to proof read so sorry for any typos. I hope you enjoy byeeee 💜

Your friends had been relentless in their teasing about Jake having a crush on you. At first, you laughed it off, finding it impossible to believe that Jake Seresin, the eternally confident and suave pilot, could be interested in you. But as time passed, you started noticing small gestures and moments that made you question your initial disbelief.

Jake had always been kind to you, but recently his kindness seemed to extend beyond common politeness. He remembered the tiniest details you shared in passing—how you liked your coffee, your favorite authors, even the specific way you styled your hair on a bad day. He was quick to offer help, whether you needed an extra hand with a task or just someone to talk to. The way he looked at you, with an intense and sometimes tender gaze, made your heart flutter against your will.

Despite these signs, you remained conflicted. The thought of Jake possibly liking you brought as much fear as it did excitement. What if your friends were just teasing for fun? What if Jake’s actions were merely those of a considerate friend? The fear of misinterpreting his actions and making a fool of yourself loomed large in your mind. You began to feel like you were walking a tightrope, delicately balanced between hope and skepticism.

One afternoon, you were walking past the common room at the base when you heard familiar voices—Rooster, Javy, and Jake—engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation. Curiosity and a bit of anxiety gripped you as you recognized Jake's voice among them. You slowed your pace, your heart thudding in your chest, and edged closer to the door.

“I just don’t know how to tell her,” Jake admitted, his voice carrying a vulnerability that you had never associated with him before. You could sense the frustration and hesitation in his words, the struggle of a man who was usually so self-assured finding himself in unfamiliar emotional territory.

Your heart raced. “Could they be talking about me?” you wondered, your breath catching in your throat. The possibility sent a thrilling yet terrifying jolt through your system. You pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear more, each beat of your heart echoing in your ears.

“But you’ve got to tell her, man,” Rooster encouraged, his tone filled with genuine support. “She deserves to know.” The sincerity in Rooster’s voice struck a chord, amplifying the gravity of Jake’s confession.

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Jake's voice, usually so cocky and assured, wavered with uncertainty. “What if I ruin everything?”

A pause followed, the silence heavy with the weight of Jake’s fears.

“She won’t.” It was Javy who spoke next, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’ve got to trust yourself. And trust her. She’s not just anyone; she’s special.”

You felt your pulse quicken, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling within you. Could it really be true? Was Jake talking about you? The words from Rooster and Javy seemed to point in that direction, but the fear of jumping to conclusions held you back.

“I know she is,” Jake replied softly, almost to himself. “That’s what makes it so damn hard.”

The vulnerability in Jake’s voice replayed in your mind, planting even more seeds of doubt and hope. The need to discern reality from your friends' teasing and your own fears had never felt more urgent.

Before you could eavesdrop any further, Natasha's voice echoed from down the hall, calling your name. Panic surged through you like an electric shock. Instinctively, you quickly moved away from the doorway, your heart pounding and thoughts racing. As you walked towards her, trying to act casual, you couldn't shake the question that now consumed your mind: Who was Jake talking about?

"Hey," Natasha greeted you with a curious look, her eyebrows knitting together slightly. "What were you doing back there?"

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the room where Jake and the others were talking. Finally, you confessed, “I overheard Jake talking with Rooster and Javy. He was talking about liking someone but didn’t say who.”

A knowing smile crept onto Nat’s face as her curiosity morphed into something more mischievous. “Why are you so worried about Jake liking someone?”

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I-I don't know. I guess... I guess I just wondered if he was talking about me," you stammered, hardly believing the words were coming out of your mouth.

Nat's eyes widened in realization, her smile broadening into a grin that practically split her face. “Oh my god, you like Jake!”

“No, I—” you started, but Nat cut you off, clearly reveling in this revelation.

“Everyone’s been saying he has a crush on you,” she continued enthusiastically. “Jake's always sweet to you. I'm pretty sure he was talking about you. You should tell him how you feel.”

Your mind raced back to countless little moments that suddenly took on new significance: the way Jake’s eyes lingered on you during group meetings, the playful banter that always seemed to hold a deeper meaning, the subtle ways he tried to be there for you without making it obvious.

“I don’t know, Nat,” you replied, faltering. The fear of being wrong and the risk of vulnerability loomed large in your thoughts.

Natasha placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her grip firm. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to be happy. And what’s the worst that could happen? If he wasn’t talking about you, then it’s his loss. But if he was… think about what you could be missing out on. Just tell him how you feel.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your swirling emotions. The blend of hope and fear still churned in your chest, but Nat's encouragement gave you the courage to consider a possibility you had been afraid to fully acknowledge.

“Thanks, Nat,” you said quietly, giving her a small, grateful smile. She grinned back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Without missing a beat, she added, “You should tell him tonight at The Hard Deck. The atmosphere is relaxed, and you can catch him in a good mood. Plus, it's a place where everyone feels a bit more confident.”

You nodded, the idea settling comfortably in your mind. The Hard Deck, with its familiar ambiance and sense of camaraderie, seemed like the perfect place. “Yeah, you’re right," you agreed, feeling emboldened by the plan.

Nat’s grin widened. “Great! Then it’s settled. Go get ready, and don’t worry—I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear before you get there.”

With newfound resolve, you turned back toward the hallway, your heart still pounding but now with a touch of exhilaration. Tonight at The Hard Deck, you would take the leap and tell Jake how you really felt.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Bolstered by Nat’s reassurance, you decided to muster all the courage you had and took a chance. You spent the rest of the afternoon overthinking every scenario, planning out how you would approach Jake and what you would say. The anticipation tied your stomach into tight, nervous knots, but Nat’s words of encouragement echoed in your mind, giving you the strength to push forward.

That evening, you arrived at The Hard Deck, the familiar scents of sea air and salt mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. The warm glow of string lights cast a welcoming ambiance over the buzzing crowd of friends and fellow pilots. You scanned the room, your eyes searching for Jake.

There he was, leaning casually against the bar, seemingly in his element. His smile was bright, his laughter infectious as he chatted with a few squad members. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, walking purposefully towards him, each step fueled by the hope of finally expressing your feelings.

But as you closed the distance, your heart nearly stopped at the sight unfolding before you. A blonde girl, stunning and radiant, approached Jake with an ease that spoke of intimacy and familiarity. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with affection. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Your breath hitched painfully in your throat as you watched her lean in and kiss his cheek, her lips lingering as Jake's arm encircled her waist.

Your world tilted on its axis, the scene playing out like a cruel dream. Every piece of hope you had built up shattered, splintering into a million jagged fragments. The voices around you faded into indistinct murmurs, the vibrant atmosphere of The Hard Deck suddenly feeling cold and isolating.

Swallowing hard, tears threatened to spill as you silently concluded that the conversation you had overheard was about this blonde girl. The connection and affection between them were undeniable, making your earlier hopes feel foolish and naïve.

Crying on the inside, you turned on your heel, each step away from Jake feeling like wading through thick, relentless waves. You slipped out of The Hard Deck, the door closing behind you with an unsettling finality. Your chest ached with unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams, your heart heavy beneath the weight of unreturned feelings.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

In the coming weeks, you found yourself avoiding Jake entirely. Whenever his name came up or plans were made that involved him, you made excuses, retreating into a quieter, more isolated version of yourself. Each glimpse of him became a painful reminder of what had been and what could never be, the gap between you widening into an unbridgeable chasm.

Though Nat and other friends noticed, you didn't feel ready to explain. The feelings were still too raw, so you chose to keep them to yourself and carried on as best as you could. You knew deep down that Jake liking someone else doesn’t make him a bad person because he has every right to be with who he wants to be. You had no right to be mad; you were not upset with him, just heartbroken. And that heartache was enough to make you withdraw, even from those closest to you.

The day of Bob’s party arrived, a day you'd been both anticipating and dreading. Just the night before, Rooster had casually mentioned that Jake wouldn't be attending. A mix of relief and disappointment had washed over you—relief for avoiding the emotional turmoil, and disappointment because, as much as you wished otherwise, you still deeply cared for Jake.

As you entered the bustling party, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The loud music, laughter, and upbeat conversations seemed distant as you struggled to enjoy yourself. You chatted with a guy near the drinks table in an attempt to distract yourself, but your eyes kept searching the crowd for a familiar face that wasn't supposed to be there.

Then, as if mocking the emotional preparation you'd done, there he was. Jake, with his striking build and effortlessly commanding presence, stood across the room. A pang of shock struck you, and for a moment, you were frozen. How could he be here? Rooster had clearly said he wouldn't be! You quickly decided to play it cool, hoping he hadn't noticed your initial reaction.

You re-engaged in your conversation, attempting to laugh here and there, but your thoughts were distracted. Your gaze involuntarily kept flitting over to Jake's direction, drawn by an invisible thread. When Jake caught sight of you talking with someone else, his expression darkened with displeasure. He started moving towards you with determined steps, each stride amplifying the wave of unease that settled in your stomach. Your heart rate quickened, and you struggled to maintain your composure as he approached.

“Can we talk in private?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for objections.

“No, Jake, not now,” you tried to brush him off, your voice shaking slightly. But Jake was insistent, tugging you gently yet firmly to the other side of the room.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, frustration evident in his voice. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.

You tried to keep your voice steady. “It doesn’t matter, Jake. Let it go.”

But Jake wouldn't back down. Your voices rose, drawing the attention of everyone at the party. You felt tears welling up, the emotional pressure becoming unbearable. Turning on your heel, you fled to the basement, hoping to find a moment's peace. Jake, however, was right behind you.

“Y/N, please,” Jake pleaded as he finally caught up to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Please just stop! Jake, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

Before Jake could respond, the door to the basement swung shut with a loud click. You both turned, realizing in horror that it had locked from the other side. Jake tried the doorknob several times, each attempt becoming more forceful and desperate, but it wouldn't budge.

"Great," Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re stuck."

You sighed, leaning against the wall. "Just perfect," you said sarcastically.

Jake approached you slowly. “Maybe this is a sign,” he said softly. “We need to talk this out, Y/N.”

Communicating in the dim basement light, you braced yourself for whatever was to come next.

Jake's voice finally broke through the silence. "Please, tell me what I did wrong. I've been unraveling without you."

His words shattered your heart into countless fragments. As you truly gazed at him, the toll of your silence became evident—dark circles lingered under his eyes, his complexion wan and weary.

Heart racing as you paused in uncertainty. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to turn and face him. For a moment, the words seemed trapped in your throat, but Jake's worried eyes spurred you on. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you finally turned to him, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I've been avoiding you because I overheard you talking with Rooster and Javy about liking someone, and I thought it was about me. But when I saw you with that blonde girl at the bar, I felt so stupid. It was clear to me then that you were talking about her."

Jake's expression shifted from confusion to shock. “You overheard our conversation? And what girl are you talking about?”

Your frustration spilled over, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know! There was a girl at the bar a few weeks ago who hugged you and kissed your cheek. I thought... never mind, it’s irrelevant. You have every right to date whoever you want. It’s none of my business, and I have no right to feel upset or betrayed, and I—”

“Wait, Y/N, hold on,” Jake interrupted, his tone urgent and pained. “That conversation was about you. The girl you saw? She’s my sister. I can’t believe you thought... Y/N, you mean the world to me.”

Confusion mingled with hope. "What do you mean? You were actually talking about me?"

Jake nodded earnestly, stepping closer. "Yes, Y/N, every word was about you. I've wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but I was terrified because the bond we share is so precious to me. I couldn't bear the thought of losing it. When I was talking to Rooster and Javy, I was trying to find the courage to be honest about my feelings for you. And that girl you saw at the bar? That's my sister. She came to town for a visit, and I wanted her to meet the most important person in my life—you. I can't stand the thought of you feeling hurt because of a misunderstanding. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Seeing you with your beautiful smile, hearing your laughter, it's the highlight of my day. I cherish every moment we spend together. Y/N, you are my best friend, but you're also the one who makes my heart race. My feelings for you have only grown stronger over time, and I can't keep them hidden any longer. You are my everything, and I just want us to build something even more beautiful together."

A mixture of relief and happiness washed over you, your eyes welling up. “Oh, Jake, I’ve felt the same way for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you either. Seeing you with someone else just crushed me... I’m so sorry I acted like that.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound filled with affection. “It’s alright, Y/N. I get it. But you don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s always been you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into Jake’s eyes. “I should have talked to you instead of hiding away. I’m so embarrassed. I’m really sorry for everything.”

He grinned, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Well, we do make a good drama for the team, don’t we?”

You laughed, the sound breaking the tension. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Jake gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “How about we stop the drama here and start something real instead?”

With your heart full of joy, you nodded, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The moment was perfect, everything you had dreamed of and more.

As you pulled apart, breathless and smiling, a loud cheer broke through the silence.

Turning, you saw Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapping and cheering enthusiastically.

“Way to go, Jake!” Rooster called out, grinning widely.

“Finally!” Nat added, her arms raised in celebration.

Javy winked at you and said, “Took you two long enough!”

Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapped and cheered, their smiles wide with happiness.

Rooster gave Jake a playful punch on the arm. “Good thing I thought to lock you two down here in the basement. You needed this talk.”

You and Jake exchanged a look, laughing together for the first time in what felt like ages. With your friends' cheers still ringing in your ears, you knew this was the start of something beautiful and true.

Tag: @bella-the-proud-fangirl

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado

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featki · 4 months

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I'm sorry, baby !

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: Fighting, mean ki, angst — now playing: 一子青葉

Sitting on your boyfriend's bedroom floor holding back tears wasn't entirely how you wanted to spend your Friday night.

This fight was stupid, you both knew it and yet it still happened. Granted of course couples fight, it's just what happens. But never has Riki yelled at you like that, over something that wasn't even your fault.

"Riki please, I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."

"I get that, but I've already told you it doesn't matter. Why do you always have to be so damn clingy all the time." Anger laced his voice

"It does matter Niki. It matters when it's hurting you."

"Don't call me that damnit." Using his nickname struck a chord with him. He hated it when you used his nickname. It felt more intimate when you called him Riki or Ki. No one else did, everyone else called him Niki so using his real name and not his stage name felt so good, refreshing almost.

He left the room without saying any more, slamming the door harder than he wanted to.

And now you were left alone on his bedroom floor in his chrome hearts hoodie.

You knew he wasn't in the right headspace, he was tired and stressed. You knew that but you couldn't do anything about it until he talked to you, until he said asked you to help. Riki's never been super open about his feelings but you'd always get him to open up eventually. He's never held them back this much before.

Eventually, you decided to check on him. You wanted to follow him originally but thought he needed space so you left him alone.

You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out first. He was sitting on the couch with his legs up and his head in his hands, pressing up against his eyes, his brows were furrowed, almost as if he was crying. TV was so loud, he hadn't noticed the door opening so you continued. Slowly closing the door behind you, walking up to the corner where the hallway and living space meet.

"Ki?" Hoping the use of the sweet nickname would keep him from getting angry again.

He didn't answer but instead just looked up at you, eyes wet, cheeks pink, lips red and puffy. You were right, he was crying.

Crying wasn't something Riki did, the only times you saw him cry was when he was missing his family, or overly stressed, and you were the same. Tears just never came easy for you, it's something you've been ridiculed for. Being called "Cold" or "Emotionless" was something you became used to, but seeing Riki cry made tears well up in your eyes. You choked them back and went to sit next to him.

He didn't spare you a glance, still spacing off.

You felt so bad. A sinking feeling forms in your stomach. You contemplated just leaving but realistically that wouldn't help anything. Instead, you sat there, contemplating what you would say.

"I'm sorry Ki"

"Stop." He still sounded angry, your stomach churning as you frown slightly.

A short silence, then he follows up with "You have nothing to be sorry for." He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn't your fault he feels like shit, it wasn't your fault he was stressed and overworked but he still took it out on you.

"I made you upset though, I didn't mean to I swear" You sounded so defeated, almost like a child after getting scolded. His heart broke into a million pieces hearing you blame yourself for his outburst. "No no this isn't your fault. I promise it's not you" He finally looked at you. His usual blank gaze transformed into what looked like a puppy dog. His eyes were still wet and brows furrowed with worry and guilt.

You looked back at him with tears welling, he didn't understand how he could treat you, the love of his life, the way he did.

After the dreadful silence, you decided you'd just leave. You didn't want to but the pain of seeing him like this was too much, especially when you couldn't help him.

Riki grabbed your arm, with pleading eyes screaming for you not to go, whether he said it or not. "Where are you going?"

"I was gonna give you space."

He sits on the couch properly and hugs your waist. "Please don't go" His voice was wobbly and quiet "Ki..."

"Please, baby. I love you so much and I promise I'll show it properly." You start to run your hands through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.

"And I'll make it up to you too. It wasn't" He choked on his words "It wasn't right for me to take my stress out on you. You're perfect and you're the only thing that makes me feel right. Please don't leave."

You've never seen him so needy, so clingy. He always clung to you but this is different. He sounded desperate for you. Like he'd die if you walked away "I'm not gonna leave Ki."

He gripped onto your waist tighter "But, I'm your girlfriend Ki. If you're hurting you can tell me... I know work is busy. I know they're overworking you but next just talk to me. Please baby, I love you, and seeing you like this sucks." You move one of your hands to his bicep and start rubbing circles with your thumb, his muscles were sore from dance practice.

"I care about you, and I don't want to fight with you. Especially over this."

"I know, I'll tell you next time. Okay? I'll tell you everything that's going on. I promise" He lifted the sweatshirt you were wearing a little, wearing nothing under, he kissed the side of your stomach.

"Thank you, baby."

He mumbles a small, sleepy "Of course..." while he's still kissing the side of your stomach.

"Let's go to sleep, baby." You say while slightly pushing his head away from your stomach "Mmm okay" He picks you up, burying his head in your neck as he walks to his room.

He lays you down on the bed, laying on top of you, cuddling into you like a little baby. He would never admit it but he loved it when you baby-ied him. Sure in front of the other members, he'd hate it but when you guys are alone and he gets to just be lovey and cheesy, it means so much to him.

"I love you, Ki, so much" When he didn't respond you lifted his hair up to see him just to realize he had already fallen asleep.

Whenever he cries he usually falls asleep in your arms within minutes so this was nothing new.

You kissed his head, while still playing with his hair. You fall asleep in his arms, and at the end of the night, you care for Riki so much and only want the best for him. Fights are going to happen. It's inevitable, but luckily for you, Riki always knew how to make things better, how to make you feel better, he loves you so much, and he'd do anything for you.

The next day after school you walk into the house after Riki walks you home just to see a huge container of Smiski blind boxes and flowers on the counter, with a note saying "I love you, baby :)"

You could never stay mad at him

@ featki

Note: This was kinda rushed and not proofread... sorryyyy !! Been thinking ab this for awhile so wanted to write it. ALSO Niki kissing your stomach is NOT meant to be taken in a suggestive way at all. It's cute so don't take it weirdly.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #niki enhypen #niki #♡⸝⸝ featki

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batterygarden · 2 years

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toxic!armin x bimbo!reader with a breeding kink

18+ MDNI

cw: fem! Afab reader, Armin's only kinda mean—some light degradation is included but then he’s sweet too!, bimbo reader, dumbification, mating press, cream pie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, mult. orgasm, reader referred to as mommy once, also pretty girl, Armin referred to as daddy twice, 1k words, sooo self indulgent and not proofread don't mind me

Armin’s noticed you’ve been spacing out a lot today—more often than usual which sort of alarms him. He’s never expected you to be quick-witted, but the entire time he's been over tonight your responses have been especially slow, eyes glazed over more often than not. He thinks of it like a fun puzzle to solve, trying to guess what could possibly be troubling your pretty little head, but you end up revealing where your thoughts have been all on your own once he's balls deep inside you.

He has you folded up on the edge of your bed, legs around him and staring up at his face with little hearts floating around your head when, for the first time today, you have conviction in your tone.

“So I decided something…”

He picks up the pace of his hips a little, tilting his head to encourage you to elaborate.

“Decided I want you to breed me, ‘Min. Wanna have your kids. S’that okay?”

The ruthless pace of his thrusting has your water line on the verge of spilling over and Armin almost laughs at your vulnerable expression paired with your words. So this is what’s been stirring the air in your skull. How cute—he finds you so cute. Like a puppy he’s itching to kick.

“Pretty girl,” he’s panting from the squeeze of your pussy, fighting to keep his tone gentle, “you sound psychotic.”

You hum like you disagree, but the sound only warps into a high pitched cry as Armin pries one of your legs off his hip and folds it up by your chest. The new position is almost uncomfortable but you can hardly complain when his cock reaches even deeper inside you, filling you till you can hardly breathe—giving your body what it didn’t know it needed.

You try to grind against him as you chase a fast approaching high, and Armin rakes his fingers down your soft skin as he watches you grow drunk with the feeling of him. He loves looking at you like this. He loves the give in your flesh while he abuses you, while he pounds the last of your senses out of your mouth in a jumbled cry, the way whatever fragile composure you held dissolves behind hazy eyes. He loves that all that’s left is a body, clinging to him like that’s your only remaining instinct—he loves that he can make you even stupider.

But it’s unexpected when you somehow come around to cry to him when you cum, tears streaming and nails digging into his shoulder when you whimper,

“Ngh, Armin I wanna have your babies. Please, please, please… want your cum!”

At this point you’re too gone to even realize that you’ve accidentally struck a chord. The feel of your cunt clamping down on him, sucking him in so tight that he can’t remember what it feels like to be apart, paired with the image of you round and glowing and filled up with his kid. Armin wants it. Suddenly he needs it. Your relentless begging and crying while you cum only spurs him on—Armin’s lost any resolve to say no—forgetting why he even should.

“You wanna have my child?” He almost whines, fucking you through your orgasm and struggling to maintain his composure while your pussy throbs around him—maybe it’s already long gone. You can only nod and reach a limp hand to brush some hair temporarily from his forehead, you wanna look in his eyes but you can hardly concentrate enough to keep yours open.

“Want me to—god—fill you up? Gonna be a mommy with my baby in your tummy?”

Armin’s words are breathy, and his grip below your folded knee is so tight you’re losing feeling in your foot. Your pussy has him in a trance.

You find your voice through the overstimulation to cry out “uh huh! Wanna make you a daddy, ‘Min.. Let me make you a daddy...”

He huffs as his own release edges near, using his other hand that’s been bruising your hip to wipe tears off your cheeks before folding your other leg up. Now you’re in a mating press—brain mush while he absolutely obliterates you.

“You’re so… you’re so annoying. Ugh.”

His hips start moving even faster.

“But yeah… I’ll give you what you want… guess you deserve it.”

You don’t have to power to respond, only nodding in encouragement while Armin’s heavy cock rams into you with the kind of force you're pretty sure could give you a concussion—you’re past overstimulation, you’re on the brink of another orgasm right along with him.

Everything is Armin—that’s all you can focus on, his breaths turning to wanton sighs as he approaches release, his grip tightening on the dewy skin of your thighs where he holds your legs. When he finally tips over the edge, you manage to peek a heavy eyelid open and watch the angelic face he wears—the way his eyebrows crinkle together and his glossy lips part in a little “O”, the whiny moan he lets out—it’s pornographic. But you can only steal a glimpse before your forced to squeeze your eyes shut again as you topple almost painfully over the edge with him, head going fuzzy with the overstimulating feeling of his dick twitching inside you, emptying his heavy balls till you can feel his hot cum in your tummy. You can hardly even hear Armin's strangled cry when you clamp down on him a second time, twitching on his cock till he’s seeing stars.

When you both finally finish, and your twitching slows enough that he can pull out without wincing, he’s hypnotized by the way cum pours out of your abused cunt, starting to pool onto the mattress below you before he fingers it back in. Then he’s pulling on some boxers before taking inventory of your lifeless body, collapsed on the sheets with closed eyes.

He rubs a palm over your tummy not unkindly, thinking about how it’ll get bigger.

“You okay, pretty?”

You can barely nod.

#armin x reader #aot x reader #armin smut #armin arlert x reader #armin fic #aot smut #armin arlert smut #tw breeding kink #tw degradation #tw daddy kink #tw mommy kink #tw dacryphilia #tw bimbofication

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pinkmirth · 1 year

Note

nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.

RECOVERY, reiner braun !

୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader

୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .

୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!

୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)

isopropyl.

it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.

a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.

you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.

“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.

“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”

he isn’t listening.

reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”

“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.

you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.

“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.

you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.

“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.

“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.

“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.

“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?

“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.

“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.

you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.

it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.

“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”

“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.

nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.

“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.

you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.

“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.

‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.

it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.

your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.

reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.

“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”

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pursuitseternal · 2 months

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Can I get number 13 for Ascended Astarion x Reader or f!tav? I’ll let you pick as I really can’t decide 😅

“No more, please, I can’t…”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | Smut Asks

CW: overstimulation, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving)

Your screams echo off the rafters, vocal chords grating as your voice cracks from overuse.

From screaming in pleasure as you come yet again on his fingers and tongue.

Somehow, your body still isn’t drained dry completely from all the sweat and blood and arousal he’s stolen tonight. Somehow, when you come, you’re even wetter than before. This time, you can hear it, the wet squelch of your juices as you clench and shudder in your release. Astarion gives a low, reverberating chuckle. It rattles your bones and vibrates your cunt as he lazily licks you clean.

“Good, my consort,” he purrs. “Again.”

The whine that comes from your gaping mouth is pathetic, even to you. “Please…” the word barely passes your cracked and croaking chords.

“Again,” he just commands. A nip on your inner thigh, and he sucks deeply from the blood that seeps out. “If you wish to well and truly please me, you’ll come again on my tongue, and then again on my cock, and then again…. Until you’ve reached your ten count for today.”

He sucks loudly, slurping your blood with those wet and dripping lips. “And what was your current count again?”

Shit. Your mind is a mess, a blur of hazy pleasure that can barely keep reality from fantasy any longer. “S-s-six?” you answer, unconvincingly.

Long nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, and he bites hard again into your skin. This time to punish. “Don’t tell me my pet has lost count…” His tone is ice and velvet, threat and promise wrapped in honeyed tones. “If you’ve lost count on how many times you’ve climaxed, you know what happens…”

“We start over,” you groan, trying to close your thighs to give your swollen, aching folds a moment of respite. “N-n-no more, please, I can’t…” the weak words tumble from your lips, only earning a sly crimson glare from between your thighs.

“Well, is it six?” he taunts you, licking his lips that are a frightening mess of your juices and blood. That sharp, predatory glint gleams brighter in his eyes. “Or are we back to zero, my delicious pet?”

“No!” you cry, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face. “S-s-seven!” you pant, groaning and writhing as he pries your legs back apart, a warm palm on each one.

“That’s right, my dear,” he smirks at you, tilting that head, sweaty silver curls falling over his forehead and almost into his intensely staring eyes. “Now, you eager little thing, shall we continue?”

He doesn’t give you time to breathe, much less reply, before his face is deep in your cunt. Your world reduces down to the breadth of his tongue laving your cunt and his hot breath warming you flesh, already on fire and swollen for more.

#smut asks #ask box is open still #ask box #ask pursuits #astarion smut #ascended astarion smut #ascended astarion x reader #astarion x reader #reader x astarion #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!reader #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 smut

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sunnycanvas · 5 months

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Request for Baldwin IV x fem!reader, in which the reader is very fascinated by medicine and constantly tries to find a cure for her husband’s leprosy. She has some rashes and burns on her body from testing different ointments and healing methods and sometimes even drinks and experiments with poison, to see if it could be effective in treating her husband. She has a burning curiosity for healing plants and poison, but she also wants to help Baldwin. Only Tiberias knows of her experiments. One day, he asks Baldwin to please tell his wife to stop endangering herself with her sometimes careless experiments, since she won’t listen to the older knight when he tells her to stop.

Disclaimer: Talk of depression and death

I was busy working with ointments again at late evening secretly. Occasionally checking the door worried I will be caught. "I think this will work" I thought, I could feel confidence in my vein as I worked harder determined to find cure for my husband. Suddenly I felt someone grab my left shoulder. Not bothering to check I said "Don't tell his majesty or else you will be kicked out of your position"

"So, my queen threatens people now." The voice cut through the air like a blade, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. I stood there, frozen in my position, my mind racing as I scrambled for a way out of this precarious situation. "Will you ignore your king as well?" The first half of the statement was gentle, almost pleading, but the second half was cold and unforgiving, sending shivers down my spine. "Answer when I am talking to you."

My heart sank as I realized the source of the voice. I turned slowly, apprehension knotting in my stomach, and there he was—my husband, Baldwin, his gaze like ice, piercing through me with accusation. Behind him stood Tiberias, his expression filled with guilt, a silent witness to my downfall.

"That son of a b—"

"Tiberias, leave us alone for a while," Baldwin's command was firm, his tone betraying his inner turmoil. Tiberias cast one last apologetic glance my way before retreating, leaving me alone with Baldwin.

As soon as Tiberias was out of earshot, Baldwin seized my arms, his grip tight, his emotions raw. His eyes searched mine, filled with a mixture of concern and anguish. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his touch both comforting and suffocating.

"How could you do this to yourself?" His voice cracked with emotion as he held me close, his lips pressing gentle kisses all over my face. "What if you had hurt yourself? What if I lost you?"

His words struck a chord deep within me, stirring a whirlwind of guilt and remorse. I couldn't bear to see him in pain, couldn't bear the thought of causing him any more anguish. I smiled weakly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Baldwin. I didn't mean to..."

But he silenced me with another kiss, his love enveloping me like a warm blanket

"Herbs are safe," I insisted, my voice trembling with the weight of my deception. "There are no downsides to using them."

Baldwin's gaze bore into mine, a silent accusation hanging in the air. "Mon amour, I admit, as a knight, I am not as skilled as you are, but I am not stupid either," he said, his tone laced with suspicion. "I am aware that poisons are sometimes used for curing leprosy."

I forced a smile, trying to mask the guilt that threatened to consume me. "Don't worry, I don't use that. I am being safe."

"Oh really?" Baldwin's voice was like ice, cutting through the facade I had built around myself. "Then what's that under your sleeve?"

My heart plummeted as I realized I had been caught. "Shit!"

Baldwin narrowed his eyes, his expression a mix of hurt and betrayal. "I might not be a doctor, but I sure do know a liar," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"Show me your arms," he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

"Bald—"

"Show me!" The command echoed through the room, leaving no room for defiance. Reluctantly, I rolled up my sleeves, revealing the evidence of my folly.

Baldwin's eyes closed in pain as he took in the sight before him. "We should not see each other for a while," he said, his voice strained with emotion.

I felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath me, the weight of his words crushing me with their finality. "No, please don't separate me from you," I pleaded, desperation lacing my voice. "You are the reason I am doing all this."

"I know," Baldwin's voice roared, the anger and hurt pouring forth like a tempest. "How could you do this to me? To us? Did you even stop for a moment to think about what would happen to me if I lost you too?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the consequences of my actions. "It's best we stop seeing each other," he said finally, his voice filled with resignation.

Tears stung my eyes as I realized the depth of my folly, the irreparable damage I had caused. "Please, Baldwin, I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible "I can't live without you" "When I was lost and had no hope in my life you came to me and taught me how to live" "You gave me strength" "I wanted to do something for you something as well" "Please Baldwin, I will die without you"

Baldwin's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow as my words hung in the air, heavy with despair. "Don't you dare say that," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "Do you even realize what you're saying?"

I flinched at the harshness of his tone, his words like daggers piercing my already wounded heart. "But Baldwin, I…" I began, my voice trembling with fear and desperation.

"No!" he interrupted, his voice booming through the room, filled with a raw intensity that made me recoil. "I won't allow you to talk like that. You have no right to speak of ending your life as if it's some kind of solution."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to find the words to defend myself, to make him understand the depths of my despair. "But Baldwin, I can't bear to go on like this," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "The pain, the guilt… it's consuming me from the inside out."

His eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of compassion breaking through the storm of his anger. But it was fleeting, replaced once more by a steely resolve. "I know you're hurting," he said, his voice gentler now, though no less firm. "But giving up is not the answer. You are stronger than this, my love. We will find a way through this darkness together."

I shook my head, unable to comprehend how he could still have faith in me after everything I had done. "But what if I can't find my way back?" I whispered, my voice barely audible above the tumult of my own despair.

"Then I will be there to guide you," Baldwin vowed, his words a beacon of hope in the midst of my despair. "I will never leave your side, no matter how dark the path may seem." "I am sorry I had been to harsh on you" "I made a vow to never leave your side and I shall hold the vow till the last breath of life" "Let us pray to God" "He brought us two unfortunate souls together" "Perhaps he will give us happily ever after and thus a tale shall be told between a leper and beautiful angel" I giggled at his silly comment and Baldwin abashed said "I do want our love to eternal" "Just like kingdom of heaven"

And as he pulled me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the pain of the world, I clung to him desperately, holding onto his love like a lifeline in the midst of the storm. For in his embrace, I found the strength to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a glimmer of light amidst the darkness that threatened to consume me.

#kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven headcanons

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daengtokki · 12 days

Text

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 10.6k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, sex, self harm mention, abuse mention, medication usage, hallucinations

SYNOPSIS: you walk into Seungmin’s life, and disrupt everything (part 4/?)

˗ˋˏ♡ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐/𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜!

PARTS 1 — 3

seungmin-ah! mo! haha…come here, you know you’re in trouble!

whyyy? I didn’t do anything umma

are you sure? let’s go look at what you didn’t do…let’s go look at that empty plate, sweetheart

I didn’t eat those cakes

oh? did daengmo eat them? I know he has a sweet tooth, just like you…

His eyes open slowly. Everything is a blur as Seungmin tries to look around him, but it’s so dark. He blinks, and a tear runs to the corner of his eye. The first thing he latches onto, the closest thing, is your arm. His fingers close gently around your wrist as he finds himself.

Min?

He lets go and pulls at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to wipe his face dry.

“Seungmin…it’s okay.” You grab his hand and wait for him to look at you. Eyes still wet with tears, he lays back down and stares at the ceiling. “Just a nightmare, you’re okay now.”

“Not a nightmare.” Seungmin breathes deep, and his eyes dart back and forth in the dark as he remembers. “Just a memory, I think.”

The bedroom is cold. Outside, it’s abnormally cold. You feel a shiver move through him as you run your hand up and down his forearm—there’s another blanket in the chest, but first, you have to brave the icy floor to get it. “Be right back.” You slide out from under the covers and wince when your feet hit the hardwood and tiptoe the rest of the way there.

“What are you doing out there?”

You swing the creaky lid open and dig around for the heaviest one you can find. “I want that flannel blanket…oh, this one.” The lid comes down faster and heavier than you intend, and the sound feels unimaginably loud cutting through the middle-of-the-night silence. “Sorry…” The music box lets a note free, and then another. You look up at it, and the lid is propped open. Seungmin must have been in there, you think. There are a few dried flowers scattered inside and around it when you gently close it.

“It’s okay,” Seungmin says, and you can see his smile as your eyes adjust to the darkness. When you jump back in, he holds the covers open to show you exactly where he wants you. His body is warm, but the goosebumps are still all over his arms.

“January is awful”

“You told me you liked winter”

“I like this,” you squeeze him and push your face into his chest. “Tell me about your dream.”

The soft sounds of a guitar wake you. G chord, C, G, D—whatever it is, it’s simple…and it’s nice. You wait and listen for a few minutes as the music builds, hoping you might finally hear him sing. Seungmin keeps you on edge, though. He stops, so you roll over and look at him.

“Finally,” he sets the guitar back on its stand.

“Finally what?”

“You looked so comfortable over there, I was getting jealous”

“Oh, you couldn’t get back to sleep?”

Seungmin stands and stretches. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, and his sweatshirt is pulled up just enough for you to catch his belly button, until he tugs at the hem, “I did for a little while.”

You pull the covers down, “so get back in.”

“It’s noon”

“Then sing something for me, don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?”

A month living under his roof, and making him laugh is still a treat. It’s not quite as rare as it used to be, but Seungmin still has his days, his nights, and his moments of uneasiness and agitation in your shared space.

“How long have you lived in this big apartment all by yourself?” You asked him a few weeks ago. There never seems to be a good time for most of these little questions, so you force them in whenever you can, and whenever you remember. Whenever you think he might answer them.

“Almost five years, I was nineteen when I moved in”

“That answers another burning question.” Do you tell him now that you’re older than him, or wait until he asks? You doubt he’ll care. “All alone, no other roommates?”

He gives you a look and raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you are? My roommate?”

“I’m not not your roommate”

“Do I make you feel like my roommate?”

It’s a sweet, introspective question for him. Seungmin doesn’t talk very much, but when you get him going, he’s good at keeping up. Sometimes, you do feel like his roommate, because some nights he falls asleep on the couch, and sometimes you do the same, depending on where his head has been that day. There have been days when Seungmin hasn’t spoken a single word to you.

“Is that a no?” His face says a lot, but it doesn’t answer your question, “no song for me?”

The bottom of his sweatshirt is suddenly very interesting. He pulls it more and squeezes the fabric in his fist as he tries to avoid your gaze. “Uhm…I’ve never sung for anyone before. I wouldn’t know what to sing anyway. I don’t know what you’d want to hear.”

The shyness might be an act, but it’s cute, and you like it. “You can sing me the alphabet, I don’t care. A nursery rhyme. Your favorite song.” Seungmin’s face turns so red, that you almost change the subject completely. Pushing him has gotten easier, but you’re still careful. You resist the urge to ask if his mother sang him anything as a child, considering last night's dream, and the tears he tried to hide.

“I’ll think about it, my favorite…and maybe I will tonight”

“Really?”

He nods, and his phone starts to vibrate somewhere on the bed. You can feel it, and just as you shove your hand beneath his pillow, Seungmin’s slips under, too, and he gets there first.

Annyeonghaseyo, he says quietly and walks toward the balcony window.

You’ve continued your language classes because you have no job and nothing else to fill your time. Any reason to get out of the house and give him his space is welcome, even if it is only three days a week. You’re no good yet, but the point is, you notice he answered formally, and very unlike how he typically sounds, and you’re curious. He very rarely speaks to anyone on the phone.

When he hangs up, he keeps his gaze down toward his phone and types something, and then he sighs one of his sighs—a little exaggerated, and very him. You love his sighs because it’s one of the few signals he gives you when something is bothering him.

“Did you eat breakfast, are you hungry?” Seungmin never asks anything of you; he likes to cook, and he seems to be naturally tidy. He never makes messes…well, usually. “I can make us something…American.” You head toward his keyboard and run a finger over it. It’s off, so you press one of the keys.

“American? Steak and eggs and potatoes?” He’s still distracted by something on his phone, but he must be hungry. He knows what he wants.

“Yeah, I just need to go get some steak”

“Can you? I have to…uh,” he scratches his head. “I have something I need to do.” He sees your face change. “Not that, something else.”

“Yeah, of course.” Something to do with his phone call, and whatever he’s been doing on the phone, you assume. You'll find out later, hopefully.

The bus is crowded, but he braves it. Sometimes he likes to be a little more anonymous, and this is the best way to do that. The office building is only a dozen or so blocks away from his building, but it’s too cold for a long walk.

“Do you have an appointment?” The woman behind the desk doesn’t pay much attention to Seungmin until his soft yes, I do hits her ears. The look she gives him turns bashful and flirtatious, but it doesn’t do much for him. “Your name?”

“Kim Seung Min”

“Date of birth?”

“September twenty-second…two-thousand”

“Oh here you are, it was just added…Dr…oh, Dr. Mun”

There’s only one doctor in this building who specializes in what Seungmin needs, and the receptionist has no tact when she realizes it. She avoids his gaze as she finishes typing and granting him access. “Ninth—“

“I know where it is”

/ / /

“Seungmin, how have you been?” Her heels click as she walks across the dark wood floor, and it’s a little hypnotizing. “Can I still call you Seungmin, or should we go back to formal? It’s been quite a while.”

The click click stops when she sits, but returns with the slightly more annoying sound of the pen. It’s weird being back in this room, but it feels familiar still—the smell, the lights, the colors. “Seungmin is fine. I don’t like being spoken to formally.”

“Yes, I do remember that now. Please, tell me how things have been. I know I’m not your usual therapist, but you haven’t gone to a session with him in over a year, so…”

“It wasn’t helping”

“I know you feel-“

“It wasn’t. Every session made me feel worse, and he had no sympathy for anything I managed to dig up.”

“Okay. Have you been back home lately?”

His heart races, and it’s too warm in here. Seungmin slides out of his jacket and pulls at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Last month.”

“How was it, did you…want to talk about any of that? Was she there for you still?”

He manages a nod. She’s always there. She’s everywhere, but there…that’s where she truly is.

“Not to switch subjects so quickly, but…” she says as her eyes travel over him, “what happened here?” Dr. Mun taps her pen to her neck, “I only ask because it looks very painful.”

The bruise you gave him two nights ago; the one he begged you for, even as you squeezed to the point of him nearly passing out. It’s probably at its worst right now. You’re stronger than you look. He sets his hand over it, pushes a little, and savors the pain still there.

“And because I know you’ve hurt yourself in the past. Is that was this is?”

It might be easier to lie and tell her he did it to himself, because talking about you wasn’t supposed to be part of this today. He’s only here because she threatened to hold the medication he actually uses. Seungmin shakes his head, though.

“Someone else did it?”

He nods.

“Because you asked them to, I assume? Do you trust this person?”

Does he trust you? He must. You share a bed, and you’re feet away from his knife. He took you home with him and let you listen in as he spoke to someone you couldn’t see, and you haven’t questioned him about it. Seungmin begs you to bite and cut and choke him, which you do, and all of your time in between is spent waiting and longing for something more. He knows that.

“Yes, I do”

“As long as I’ve been your doctor, three years, you’ve been by yourself…single. Is that no longer the case?” She tries to read his facial cues and his fidgeting hands. “Maybe it’s nothing serious, hm? Just casual? That’s also good, because you’re letting someone in, even in some small way. You trust someone besides yourself. That’s great, considering you haven’t been keeping up with your medication.”

“So I don’t need it”

“One good step doesn’t make everything better. I’m glad you came and saw me at such short notice, and I know you want the lorazepam to help you sleep, but I would also like your word that you’ll try the Haldol. I’ll write your new prescription, but please…just give it some time.

Hopefully, the smell of a very late breakfast brightens him up, because Seungmin didn’t seem happy when he left earlier. One thing he seems to respond to when nothing else works is food.

He walks in wordlessly, takes off his jacket, and tosses it on the couch. There’s no change in his facial expression. It’s as if he left, and then walked right back in. But he doesn’t look more upset, thankfully; just blank. He’s feeling nothing, or trying his best to look like he’s feeling nothing.

“Hey…Min.” You look at the paper bag clutched in his hand, and it’s easy to figure out what could be inside. You came back a little bit ago with the same one. “Foods all ready.”

The smile isn’t forced, “okay,” but it’s not easy, either. “I’ll be right back out.”

Seungmin doesn’t close the door, so you try to peek in from where you stand. All you can see is the bed, but you do hear the rustle of his bag, and the subtle sound of full pill bottles as he sets them on his table. So if you have any deduction skills at all—the phone call was from his doctor, or his therapist, or something along those lines. The hour and a half he was gone was spent with one of them, and then he stopped at the pharmacy a block down the street for his prescriptions. Easy enough. You hope he’ll feel comfortable enough to tell you all of this on his own.

Before he comes out, you hear the pop of a lid, and the shake of one of the bottles against his hand. When he comes back out, he takes the coffee you hold out for him and swallows one, or both, of his pills.

“It smells good,” he says, and he stays there. Seungmin stares at you.

“Good. Are you alright?” You try not to stare back, but each time you look up, he’s still looking. “Did you do what you had to do?”

“I did”

“Did I do that?” The bruise on the side of his neck pops out at you. It’s big and dark against the white of his shirt collar. Seungmin doesn’t move when you reach out and touch it. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yes, and yes.” He sets his hand over yours and rubs it against the spot. “It feels good.”

“Seungmin?”

He stops but keeps his hand on yours. The doctor’s words are ringing through his head as he watches your eyes dart back and forth between his. How much does he actually trust you? How far has he let you in, and how much has he given of himself? Too much? Enough to keep you here? “Yeah?” You don’t ask him a lot of personal questions.

What if you did ask him about his appointment? Would it be that bad? If he took his medication like you assume he just did a moment ago, broaching the subject should be even easier. That’s not the only subject you need to broach with him, though.

“Did you have a doctor’s appointment?

His eyes answer you before you hear the soft mhm.

“How did it go?” At any moment you expect him to let go of your hand and retreat, but he doesn’t.

“It was okay. Uhm…that medicine makes me very tired, so if I fall asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you can sleep all day if you need to. But eat something first.”

/ / /

The space between wakefulness and sleep is much too big. Seungmin is stuck in it—he knows that...he feels it. Like twilight in the backyard after a hot summer day. You turned the heat up a little, but you also laid the blanket over him and pulled it up past his bruised neck.

It feels good; the soft warmth of the couch, and the silky pillow under his head. And he can see you from here, moving back and forth in his vision, disappearing and reappearing as you…well, he’s not sure what you’re doing. He likes watching you, though.

“Hey, you’ve been out for a while”

Your voice floats to him, and it takes an extra moment before he grasps what you say. Seungmin nods.

“There’s some water here if you need it”

He opens his eyes fully and looks at your smiling face. Why are you so happy? No, not happy. Smiling, yes, but your eyes give you away. “Thank you.” Seungmin feels your lips on his temple, then on his cheek. Why? There’s nothing here worth loving. He’s just an empty shell. “Thank you.”

“You’ll feel better soon. Close your eyes and sleep a little more.”

Thankfully, he does.

It’s completely dark when he wakes again, and so quiet that it puts him into a sudden panic. He’s still asleep, and he’s back in his nightmare. His heart races, and he can practically smell the dirt…until he realizes he’s not alone. Seungmin moves his leg, and his foot slides over your thigh. You’re here…asleep, curled up in the small space he left at the end of the couch. He moves his foot over you again, hoping to wake you, and it works.

You close your hand around his ankle, “hey sleepyhead…”

“What time is it?”

“Good question,” you tap your phone screen and squint at it. “Just after midnight.”

“Fuck, I slept all day?”

He did, and while he slept, you checked to see if he was still on the same medication, the same dosage. Haldol and Xanax. Seungmin took one of each earlier, and his body never stood a chance against it. You also took care of your own problems while he was out, and finally getting it out of the way calmed you a little.

“You just have to adjust, that’s all…yeah?”

Seungmin still feels like he’s floating. He sits up more, and looks at you. It's too dark, and he can't see you very well, so he moves closer. “It won’t fix me.”

“No, you’re not broken." You don't know if Seungmin knows you know exactly what he's taking, but he's smart enough to realize you're going to look around any chance you get, because he did it to you with your backpack. Both of you, quiet, tiptoeing around each other to find answers instead of asking.

"No?" He moves closer still, and practically puts himself in your lap.

/ / /

Something sweet…you said, walking to each corner of the kitchen and collecting things. He needs something sweet to eat, that will make him feel better. The smell of cinnamon and apples made it to him as he showered, and that alone did make him feel a little better.

“It hasn’t been back lately, but…” he looks at the perfect baked apple in front of him and cuts it in half.

“What hasn’t?”

“The noise, the itch. It’s been a while.”

“Is that bad?” You noticed, of course, that he hasn’t left the house lately with the urge to find someone. He hasn’t come home with anyone. The idea that you somehow changed something in him hasn’t crossed your mind, because it’s silly—what you have done, maybe, is filled up those spaces in his mind that were once left to their own devices. Seungmin has already told you he’s been here, alone, for years, and that the company he’s kept has never lasted beyond the hour they arrived. "Or is that good?"

“I’m worried it’ll come back, and be worse”

“Has that happened before? Has it gone away, and built up to something bigger?”

Seungmin takes a big bite of his apple, and the taste hitting his tongue makes him smile. Yes, it has happened, but he was a teenager then, and he lacked self-control. It’s not something he wants to think about, or talk about right now. But he nods. “This is very good, thank you.”

“We’ll deal with it when the time comes, if it does”

Will you? It seemed sincere, the way you said it, and the way you looked at him.

we’ll deal with it

we?

Too much sleep is weighing on him now. Seungmin felt so tired as he ate the dessert you made for dinner, and while he struggled to brush his teeth. Now the sleep eludes him—but he’s comfortable, at least. You bought new flannel sheets, and new pillows, so the bed hasn’t felt this soft and warm in a long time. And you, you’re sound asleep a few inches away, content. Seungmin likes to stare, discreetly if he can manage, and so often he’s spent far too long watching you. He doesn’t do it while you sleep. This morning, he got right up and went about his day, not concerning himself with how late you stayed in bed. Not until he got bored. You’re usually up before him, so he missed a perfect opportunity to look at you without worrying about getting caught and making you uncomfortable.

The first time he saw you on the street, he did think you were pretty. He doesn’t typically interact with foreigners, or tourists, despite speaking English fluently, but seeing you changed that. Seungmin still can’t figure out why. Maybe if he bothered to ask a single thing about you, he could figure something out. Where are you from, and why are you still here after weeks of sometimes being paid attention to? Today, despite him sleeping for nearly all of it, was probably good for you.

Seungmin drops his gaze when you shift. Your hand slides up the sheet and stops just short of his. He watches it for a moment…and his pinky twitches. You never have trouble sleeping next to him, even though he nearly killed you. That night still lives at the front of his memory, and it replays over and over sometimes. It’s replaying for him right now, because you looked just like this—like you were sleeping.

He moves a little closer, and his hand slides over yours. You groan, but your eyes remain closed. Seungmin says your name, softly, because he isn’t sure he wants you to hear, but…he wants you awake with him. One more whisper, and he sees your lashes shift as your eyes start to move.

“Seungmin?” Before you even look around, you call for him. “Did you say my name?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

Your sleepy laugh makes his stomach flutter, and he almost turns away. He has to force himself to stay put.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

The warmth of your hand on his cheek sets his stomach in motion again, and he doesn’t like the feeling. It’s too much. Seungmin closes his eyes when you don’t take yours off of him. Touching comes easy for you, but you don’t do it often—Seungmin wonders if that's his fault...if his distance keeps you away. You mean it when you do touch him, though, like right now. Like when you wake up tangled together, as if your unconscious bodies can’t stay separated.

“Can’t sleep? That makes sense. What time is it?”

“Four o’clock”

“We could go for a walk”

“It’s freezing out”

“We could… go to that all-night cafe and try all the cakes”

“That’s tempting, but…” the flutter in his stomach turns to butterflies as he reaches out for you. “The bed is nice and warm,” he moves closer, close enough to tuck himself against you and fill himself up with your scent. You still smell the same as you did before; that deep, dark floral scent—flowers that only bloom when the sun goes down. Moonflowers, and night phlox. He wants to tell you that. Seungmin wants to tell you he gave you the wrong flowers, and that he needs to find you the right ones.

“We can stay up. I’ll stay awake with you.”

“You will?”

“I’ll try my best”

Seungmin looks up at you, and his eyes make you feel like you’re melting. He pulls back just enough to still share your pillow. “Do you really not want to go back home?” He knows it’s a heavy question, but how else can he start?

“Do you want me to?”

He watches as the color drains from your face. “No…did I word that wrong? No, I don’t want that.”

“Then no, I don’t want to go back home. I promise you, I don't.”

“Where is home? Was…where was home?”

“A town called Point Pleasant”

“Pleasant?” He smiles. “Point Pleasant.”

“Yeah, Uljin reminded me of it, a little. The woods, and the feeling it gave me.”

“Why did you leave? I know you told me before, when we had lunch…is that the only reason?” You close your eyes and think, and Seungmin watches every tiny movement of your face. “Maybe it is, I’m sorry.”

“No, it wasn’t”

“We don’t have to talk about it”

“There was no ex, but I was trying to get away from...uhm, everyone else. I lied to you."

“Why did you lie?” Seungmin whispers, because he can feel something change in the way you speak. You sound on the brink of tears, but you’re also hiding from him. "You can tell me, it's okay."

“I lied about my job, and about needing help getting home. I lied about how long I've been in Seoul. I wanted to seem more interesting, more helpless than I was. You seemed hard to impress, and I didn’t know why someone as good-looking as you was even talking to me. I still don’t.”

“You don’t?”

You shake your head.

“I should be the only one wondering that.” He can’t bring himself to ask why you had to run from everyone, and why running to him turned into your solution. He doesn't care about your lies, though. His whole life is built on lying to himself and to everyone else. “Close your eyes. Sleep."

“No, I’ll stay up”

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right behind you.”

/ / /

he is right behind you. and he’s fast, so much faster. the unbearable sound of mud underfoot as you slip and try desperately to gain some purchase, but you don’t know this ground like he does…and it’s dark but it’s midday, you think. you don’t dare look behind you, though, because he’ll be there when you do. free of the pine trees, at least, and there’s some light trying desperately to get through the clouds. the only thing standing is the shed. barely standing. it’s quiet. he stopped. maybe he turned back. but you have to hide. the shed is the only place.

the inside is somehow worse. everything is visible through the cracks in the wooden slats, so you watch the woods. the mud grabs your boots, and you’re pulled in even more as you try to move. a twig snaps, a cloud of warm breath sneaks past your ear. you can smell it.

seungmin? your voice is shaky. he likes how scared you are.

another breath tickles your ear, so you decide to look. you should at least face him when he jumps, right?

you turn, slowly, and move your eyes up a long white snout until you find them…two black eyes, shiny and sad, ready to swallow you up. a growl from his chest, and then every sharp tooth is out.

no, you promised

“Hey…hey, relax”

The voice comes from the big white dog, or seems to.

“Please, it’s me…open your eyes”

Something wet on your neck, your throat. Breath? No, warm lips. Why hasn’t he ripped you apart, what is he waiting for?

“I know, you’re stuck…it’s okay”

Finally, something shifts and you finally open your eyes. Two big black ones stare back at you, unblinking.

“No! Don’t touch me!”

Seungmin releases his grip on your wrist and backs away. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. You’re okay now. You were dreaming.”

You pull yourself up against the pillows, bringing the blankets with you as you fold yourself up. The collar of your shirt is soaked through with sweat, and you swear you can smell the fear coming off of you. Seungmin keeps his distance, but his eyes never leave you—they take in every movement as you fidget and pull yourself even tighter together.

“…just a bad dream. Really bad. You were, uh—“

“I was what?” You look around the room, and try to gauge the time by the amount of light coming in. It’s still early in the morning, you think. A few hours ago you were awake and talking with him.

“You said my name, and you were crying. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” But he was going to. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe you can tell me about it later, when it doesn’t feel so real anymore”

“Yeah”

Seungmin wants to assure you that he won’t hurt you, but he’s not certain how to tell you again. He doesn’t blame you for being afraid, though, even after everything. “You said…no, you promised. Were you saying that to me?”

You don’t answer.

“I’ll go make coffee”

He pulls the door closed and leaves you alone with your thoughts, but you don’t want this quiet, either. Maybe he’ll come back if you call for him. No, he’ll absolutely come back if you call for him.

But you don’t. You look around the sun-filled room like you’re searching for a clue. Everything is the same as it’s been for weeks, and he’s the same, so why is your head suddenly betraying you? You stand on sore, shaky legs and feel yourself floating toward the door. Seungmin’s back is to you at the kitchen counter, white tshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders. The sun is bright in here, too, and you can practically see through him as he moves around like water. He stretches and rolls his neck, lifts his shirt, and you’re hypnotized by the sight of his back, the paleness of his winter skin as he pulls it over his head. Seungmin shakes the hair from his face as he turns, and he catches you there, peeking from the open doorway.

“Hi.” He holds his shirt against his torso as you examine him, as if he has something to hide. His faded orange bangs fall right back in his face. The dark roots have grown out significantly in such a short time, but he hasn’t been out much, and he hasn’t had a reason to change anything.

“I can trim your hair for you, if you’d like”

/ / /

It’s a little awkward at first, setting him down and running your fingers through his damp hair, both of you staring at each other in the bathroom mirror. You insisted on the conditioning treatment, mostly so you could wet him down in the bathtub, run it through his hair, and touch him a little more than you have lately. He smirked the entire time, probably feeling overwhelmed by the intimacy.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks the mirrored version of you. “I know how dreams can mess with your head.”

“A little.” You snip a few times, comb through it, snip again. “I’ll be okay.”

“Have you done this before?”

“I used to cut my own, and my sisters. It’s been a while, though.”

“Why did you do your own hair?”

“Haircuts were expensive”

He nods, not needing any more explanation than that, and he lets you continue cutting. “It was me, in your dream?”

“I think so. I mean, my dream self thought it was you.” Seungmin is confused, you can see that. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s okay, I doubt I could explain mine either.” He watches his hair fall on the white tile, piece by piece. “Even though they’re always the same.”

“Mine are never quite the same, except for the…except for the shed. And the mud. The smell.”

Seungmin looks up at you before your next cut. “The what?”

You think as you tousle his hair, and find a few more spots to trim in the back.

“The smell. Do you smell things in your dreams? It’s always wet and gross, like decay. Sometimes it stays stuck in my nose even after I wake up.”

“Shed?”

“Yeah, yeah…I think so. It was this time, for sure. I’m usually already inside when the dream starts, looking out. This time I ran inside to hide.”

“From me?”

“Sort of”

“Sort of? Either it was me or it wasn’t.”

His words come out sharp, and it goes right through you. It reminds you of the big, impatient voice he used on his last victim.

“I’m finished”

You toss the scissors in the sink and leave him there. Seungmin doesn’t speak up again before you gently close the door, and he doesn’t come out right away. Cleaning up, you assume, and then you hear him in the shower. He takes his time.

The television isn’t typically on, but this morning, you need the noise to drown out the leftover scenes playing in your head. It’s still too vivid. You turn on the news, and pretend you can understand what they’re saying. The isolated feeling doesn’t always bother you—sometimes it creeps up, and you remember everything here is foreign except for a few of your classmates, and Seungmin. If you think about it too much…

The story on the news changes, and you focus on it. Korean or not, you can figure out what’s going on; what they’re talking about, and what the footage appears to be showing. It’s a crime scene. A body was found.

Seungmin finally emerges from the bathroom, and when you glance up at him, he looks a little dejected. He combs his fingers through his damp hair, and his bangs hit just above his eyebrows. Maybe you cut it a little too short.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Is that your body?”

“My what?”

“On the news. Is that where you dumped it?”

Seungmin turns and looks at the screen, but you can’t tell by his reaction if it’s a yes or a no. He just stares quietly, listening to every word. Eventually, he looks at you. “It’s fine. This has happened before.”

Your stomach drops. “It has? What if someone saw you?“

“Nobody saw me. You don’t have to worry, I promise.”

But you will worry. "I should dye your hair back to black." What if something happens, and you lose him? After all you’ve been through in the last few weeks…how much closer you’ve managed to get—which isn't very close, you admit. You can’t. “And I will worry. I’m not losing you.”

“Lose me?”

“I can’t”

He plays with his hair again, messes it up, and then takes a few steps toward the couch. It feels short, but it looked nice in the mirror. He’s not really worried about it. He still hasn’t felt any urges to go out and find someone, so he has no reason to look good for anyone, anyway—just you. The subject on the news changes, and you seem to relax. You look up at him and force a smile.

Seungmin sits, leaving some space between you, and he keeps his hands tucked between his thighs. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“Why did you? We were only talking about my dream.”

Because I’m an asshole he thinks. An impatient, insensitive pick who doesn’t deserve your kindness. Because I have has one true setting, and it’s self-sabotage. “They’re the same as mine.” He shuts his mind up and says. “Parts of them, at least. We’re dreaming of the same place, I think.”

“The shed?”

“Yes, the shed. The one next to the greenhouse.”

How did you fail to notice that? How did you not put that together? You saw it with your own eyes after seeing it several times in your head. You ran to it this morning, and looked out through the cracks in the wood. The smell. The mud you sunk into. That was the first time you were there—when you were dead on Seungmin’s bed.

“The nightmares you always have, it’s the shed?”

“Sometimes. Depends on which part of the nightmare I’m on. It replays in my mind like a movie; I’ll get some pieces one night, and then another piece the next, or a few nights later.”

“It’s always the same?”

“Little details change. And it’s not always in order, because my memory isn’t perfect, I guess.”

You see his fingers twitch, and you don’t resist the urge to reach for his hand. Seungmin squeezes yours back.

“You’re reliving a memory?”

“Yes, over and over. The worst memory. It always feels new in my head.” Saying it loud feels like a dream in itself. Having someone actually listen, and seem concerned. Having someone share in the dread that place gives him.

Do you just not remember him telling you about the shed before? He’s mentioned his nightmares, but you don’t remember him giving out any details, and when he talks in his sleep, you don’t understand him. Try as you might, you can’t actually read Seungmin’s mind.

“But it never comes together”

Do you change the subject, or assume he wants to talk about it? He looks on the verge of tears—angry ones, and you don’t want him walking through his nightmare while he’s awake. "Can I have a kiss?”

It’s been a while. Seungmin isn’t a goodnight or good morning kisser. He doesn’t sneak up behind you and peck your cheek (though sometimes, he does it when he thinks you're asleep). You have to wait for sex to get his needy, vehement mouth. That, or you have to take them yourself. You’ve only done that twice, and the first time, you had a knife to his throat.

He leans in and stops short, licks his lips…his eyes still shine with what he’s holding back…and gives you one long kiss before pulling back enough to look at you. “Just one?”

You take the second one, and Seungmin touches you. He pulls you closer, leans back against the couch, and gives you space to straddle his thighs. A kiss will almost always turn into this if you let it. Usually you do, because you want it, but not making another move right now is taking all of your energy. Still, you touch his stomach and side until his muscles twitch and tighten.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers.

“Wrong? Nothing…nothing is wrong.”

Seungmin holds you steady as he sits up again, and he places another soft kiss on your lips. “I should go take my pill.”

/ / /

The Haldol hits him again, and just like yesterday, he’s stuck and wandering around his head. You’ll adjust, you told him. He hopes you’re right because he’s never done this more than two days in a row. This isn’t how he wants to feel. But you’re here now, leaning against his shoulder, talking softly about something. What if he just told you how much having you with him right now means to him? It would get stuck in his throat, no doubt, but he could at least try.

He stops thinking for a moment, and listens.

Is there a dog in your dreams? Was there ever?

No he thinks he says… no, there was never a dog

A big white dog

No, no…he wouldn’t let me have a dog

Something runs across the room, but he only catches it in his peripheral vision. Just a shadow, bouncing on four legs…

What was that? he tries to stand, but he only makes it to the edge of the couch. Seungmin looks down at his bare feet against the gray carpet…scrunches his toes, and moves his feet against the soft fibers.

What is it? Do you want me to get you something…sweetheart

Sweetheart? Me? He sees it again. It moves slowly across the room, stops, and looks at him down its long black nose. Where did you come from?

Who? Who are you talking to? Seungmin…

He follows it around the kitchen counter, but there’s nothing there. Nothing beneath the bar. Seungmin opens the counter and looks inside, pulls out the trash can and sends it to floor.

“Seungmin, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He presses his palm to his forehead and sighs, “I don’t know.” He turns and looks at the mess he made, and kneels to clean it.

“I can clean that up, go sit down”

“I’m fine, I’m—“ You hear him sigh again. “What is this?” He reaches for something you can’t see, and then slowly gets back to his feet.

“What?” Your heart beats wildly as he turns, and you can see what he has in his hand. It was stupid of you to not tell him about it before, and you know that—you tried to wait for a good time, and the time never came. “I was going to talk to you about it…I should have told you.”

“Are you?” He looks at you, then back down to the little pink box in his hands. "Are you pregnant?"

“No, it was negative. I would have told you right away if it came back positive.”

“Negative? Why did you think you were?”

“I felt off." Tired, sick, sad...even when you open your eyes and see him in front of you. "I didn‘t know what else it could have been.”

“Do you still feel…off?”

You do, but you don’t want him to have that on his mind. Realizing you’ve been sharing dreams, one of his bodies being found, and now Seungmin seeing things in the kitchen is already too much for one day. “I’m alright...just tired.”

He’s still staring at the crumpled box in his hands, and you can tell he’s thinking, wondering, forming a question. His face gives him away—another one of his few tells. “When did you take it?”

“Yesterday, while you were asleep”

“Maybe you should take another, just to be sure”

The second test is negative. You knew it would be, because you’re starting to realize the off feeling started when you went home with him, driving through the woods, stepping foot on the ground where the shed and the greenhouse sit. You can’t explain why, and it doesn’t make logical sense, but it’s all you have for now. And the shared dreams. You’re starting to wonder exactly what happens in Seungmin’s dream. His worst memory.

He’s been standing just inside the bathroom door, watching you sit on the edge of the bathtub. You hope he doesn’t think you’re lying to him about the first result, but why else would he hover like this? Seungmin doesn’t seem the type to wait breathlessly for a different outcome. Nothing about him makes you think he wants to be a father.

But you don’t know, and you can’t assume there isn’t something inside of him that wants that. You doubt yourself more than anything. Not just doubt, you know you have no business being a mother.

You walk to the edge of the sink, but he gets there first.

“It’s negative?”

“Yes, this one is negative, too.”

He picks it up and looks at the little window, and the single pink vertical line inside.

“Are you upset? You seem…down.”

Seungmin stares for another few moments, then shakes his head. “Upset? No. We should be more careful.” He drops it into the trash can, and he’s gone before you can speak again.

“Can you please tell me what you’re feeling?” He has no business keeping quiet about something that would affect you both so massively. “Or thinking about, at least.”

“I’m not thinking about anything”

“You don’t have to hide everything from me. I know I’m still new here, but I think I deserve a little bit more of you.”

“You do...you think that?"

The silence is horrible. His stare is empty, you hope it’s just him trying to get out of this conversation, or maybe his medicine still hanging over him.

“Yes”

“You get so much of me, don’t you see that? More than I've given anyone, ever. And more than you’ve given me.”

“I wasn’t sure if you cared about what I had to give.” Your voice shakes, your throat collapses, and your attempt at a deep breath comes out as a pathetic whimper. The tears are already starting, so trying to hide them seems pointless. "But I'll tell you anything you wanna know. I'll give you anything you want."

Still, he stares, but his face changes when he sees the tears falling, and hears the tightness in your chest.

“Please, don’t cry,” he says, and it sounds so exasperated, so over everything.

Your mind reaches desperately for something good: the kiss he gave you; waking you from your nightmare; the questions he did ask last night as he cuddled up next you.

“Please…” Seungmin moves toward you, and this time, he treads a little more cautiously. “Don’t cry, please.” His hands land gently on your shoulders, and he pulls you closer. “I don’t like seeing you cry.”

You push your face into his chest, mostly to hide yourself from him, but his arms close around you.

“I’m used to hiding, and pushing back. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t apologize to me." He pulls you even closer. “You do deserve more.” Cereus—that sweet honey smell. That's the scent he's getting now. Tomorrow, he thinks, he'll find the flowers he needs for you.

“I was so scared to take that test, and now I’m confused. You seemed upset that it was negative, were you?”

His grip on you loosens, and he makes you look at him. “I don’t have a good answer to give you.” Or he can’t put it into words properly. Something inside of Seungmin stirred when he saw that box, and then again when you told him it was a false alarm. Whatever moves inside of him when he takes a life, it moved a little bit for this, just in the opposite direction. “Did you want it to be negative? When I saw the box, I figured the result was your reason for staying. Like you were trapped here now.”

“I wanted it to be negative because I don’t think I’d make a very good mother. And because I was afraid you’d be angry."

“Angry? No. Do I still scare you?” He pulls his shirt up and wipes at your cheeks, and he cups your face in his hands. “Don’t ever let me push you around, or treat you like you’re less. If I do, leave—go home, and leave me to rot here by myself, like I deserve.”

“Seungmin”

“I can’t turn into that person. I won’t.”

You look at him questioningly, and he notices. He sees you wanting more. After this conversation, Seungmin knows he can’t always walk away from the memories he keeps digging up. He certainly can’t do it right now, not today.

“Who treated you like that? Who pushed you around?”

A memory jumps to the front of his mind; stopping at the top of the porch steps to fix his coat zipper, yelling to his friend to wait up. Seungmin felt a hand press against his shoulder, and it pushed. He remembers the pain in his wrists from almost catching himself, and tasting blood from his busted lip…but not why he did it. Maybe Seungmin was being too loud, or just standing in his way.

“My stepfather. He was, well…he didn’t like me.”

Seungmin squeezes when you grab for him again, and he keeps you close as he tries to stop the sting of tears.

“He hurt you?”

His chest aches from remembering. More memories pop into his head, and he needs to stop them. A pill, maybe. No, if he does that, either he’ll sleep the rest of the day, or he’ll have to watch the strange black dog slink around the apartment again.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it...unless you need to”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“My what?” You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Your favorite color. I had a friend when I was a kid, my only friend…he always asked everyone what their favorite color was. It seemed important.”

“Blue…dark blue. Like the color of your old bedspread.”

“That fits you"

“I would guess yours is purple, unless that’s too obvious.”

“No, you’re right. Is that a good start?”

“It is, I’ll take it. Where is your old friend? Still in Uljin?”

“No, he moved away before things got really bad. I’m not sure where he ended up.”

Since Seungmin is giving, maybe you should, too. “I do know what it’s like.” Even though it's hard. “It stays forever. The mean words…the screaming, and the beating, and all the locks on all the doors. It doesn’t go away.”

“No, it doesn’t”

/ / /

Who hurt you? Seungmin wonders as he watches you hunt for all of the white puzzle pieces. His mind is numb from half of a Xanax he took, so he’s not participating. He really is enjoying watching you, though—he’s catching some of your subtle habits, and hoping he still remembers them tomorrow. You squint your eyes when you think, and absently rub your hands along different parts of your body; your forearms, your neck, when you’re still for too long. Seungmin has seen you do it before, during the long car ride, but not this much. And his favorite; your finger slowly tracing the outline of your lips, pulling and picking at them. If you keep it up, you’ll make them bleed, and he might come down there in his daze and start kissing them clean.

”Hmm?”

Your eyes flit up to him. Why, what now?

“You’re sighing so loudly up there. Get down here on the floor with me.”

“I’ll get in your way.” Of course, You’re always wanting, Seungmin thinks. Always itching for closeness.

“I want you in my way”

Itching for touch. Who put that tenderness back after it was beat out of you? He watches your hand as it leaves your mouth and pushes a stray puzzle piece back in its place. Where does your patience come from?

“…get down here and help me find the green pieces”

He laughs at that, and it must be loud enough for you to hear. Your head turns his way, and you scowl at him, but you can’t keep up an act…it turns into a smile as you look away.

Those things make a good mother, right? Seungmin remembers that, sometimes. The patience, and the tenderness. Soft words. Soft hands. Why wouldn’t you?

“Why wouldn’t I what?”

Oh he said that part out loud. “Nothing. I’m coming.” He slides from the couch and onto his knees, drops to all fours, and starts toward you.

“Cute…oh, you’re not gonna help at all”

Seungmin climbs into your lap and goes straight for your neck. He kisses once, stops, and inhales deeply.

“Are you smelling me?”

His mhm comes deep from his chest, full of your sweet scent. He kisses again, coaxing you to your back as your shirt is lifted from you. “Oh, this is nice.”

The air is cold against your bare skin, but you relax when his warm hands graze over your nipples, hard and pushing against the mesh of your bra.

“Is this new?” He puts his mouth around one and bites until you make a sound for him. “A matching set?” He pulls the waistband of your leggings down, “it is,” and brings them down the rest of the way. “Cute.”

“Cute?”

You can hear his soft laugh as he disappears between your thighs. He touches, squeezes, bites when his mouth gets to work. “Are you cold? We can get into bed.”

“Yeah, take me to bed”

/ / /

It’s warm under the sheets, but your teeth chatter anyway. In anticipation of him, maybe. Should you ask him to use a condom? Will he, if you ask? He would. Do you want him to? You can’t imagine yourself as a mother; or pregnant, for that matter. What a strange home to bring a child into.

He heads for his drawer, and reaches for the knob, but stops himself. Seungmin turns and heads for his dresser, where he slides one of the top drawers open. As far as you know, from your innocent snooping a few weeks ago, there’s nothing in there except his jewelry, watches, extra glasses. He put something new in there. He comes back with a condom between his fingers, and a questioning look in his eyes.

You give him the same look right back.

He points to the bedside table, “not ours.” And then to the drawer he just came from, “ours.”

“That’s sweet”

“Is it? I just thought it made sense.”

“Yeah, it’s sweet to me”

The room warms. You swear you can feel the cold get pushed away as he crawls to you…onto you…pulls the covers back up as you disappear beneath him. Seungmin touches and kisses everywhere he can get to—down your body, where he tugs at the matching panties he seemed to like so much, and back up to focus elsewhere. He opens the clasp of your bra and lets you fall out, and his smile as he watches is sickly sweet. You feel a blush move up your neck and face, and your reflexes force your arms around you. There’s no reason to be shy, but he’s making you feel seen again. Too seen. Seungmin looks at you, and into you in a way nobody else has before.

He gently grabs your wrists and pushes them onto the bed, “you’re mine…no hiding.”

“I’m yours”

“All mine…you won’t leave me”

It’s just a mumble against your skin, but you hear every word. He told you to leave if he did something to deserve it, but despite the dream, you're starting to believe he's incapable of scaring you away. He might think he is, but he doesn’t see all of himself. Seungmin isn't the nightmare that looks back at him in the mirror.

You still remember every word he said in the greenhouse; okay, I guess...sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside. You didn’t hear the question, but you assume it was “how are you?”

He talked about you; I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange.

I’m trying really hard, I promise

Trying to what, exactly? To get better? To keep you around? If only you had heard what he heard, and knew both sides of the conversation. But you know who it was now, and it took too long to figure out. Seungmin was catching up with his mother, telling her he is okay, and that he is no longer alone, and that he's trying so hard to...well, you're not sure exactly what—keep everything from falling apart, maybe. The dream that had him in tears, and unable to get back to sleep, was her.

“No, I won't leave you alone”

His teeth sink into your neck as he works his way in. It’s easy, and so smooth, and so satisfying—Seungmin knows his way around your body now. He pushes his cock inside of you, pulls out slowly, slides back in. Warming you up, making you comfortable, and maybe testing out how this feels. Seungmin feels good, he always does…and this, you could do this with him all night, but it’s not quite right. You’re used to nothing between you and him, so what you’re thinking is irresponsible and stupid.

The slow, steady strokes are him; the painful stretch, and the careful movements are all him. But it’s not the same. Your hands slide up his back and you pull him closer, and he bites again, softly—he’s become gentle with you in every way when you fuck…he doesn’t leave you with the same marks he begs for.

“Min,” you whisper, and run your hands across the scratches you left. Healed, but still rough against the rest of his soft skin. He moans quietly, and you hate to say his name again and stop him, but, “hey.”

“What’s wrong?” He slows his thrusts and looks at you, “it hurts?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt”

He kisses sweetly, and you can feel him crack a smile before he pulls away.

“What are you smiling about?”

This time he laughs as he goes for another kiss. “What is it, why’d you stop me?” and another.

“I…uhm—nothing, I'm fine”

“Nothing?” He stops completely and stares. Trying to read your mind, probably. Seungmin moves again, slowly.

“Please…baby.” Why did you say that? Your face heats up, and you know he sees it. That’s the second time you've done that today.

“Jagi?” The grin won’t drop from his face, so you wonder what has him feeling so relaxed, and so at ease. It can’t just be the pill he took. “Sweetheart?”

“Don’t tease me"

"No...I'm not, I like it. You can call me sweet little nicknames."

"Take the condom off”

Seungmin’s eyes grow, “oh, is that the problem?” He kisses more, and you can feel him reach between you and remove it. “Anything for you.”

"Anything?"

"Mhm...tell me what else you want"

"Don't be so gentle this time"

He grips your wrists again, puts all of his weight down, and fucks you slowly, gently. "Are you sure? You want it a little rough?"

"Yes, Min...please"

"Call me Minnie"

"Minnie," You can't help but smirk at that. It's almost too cute for him, "can we switch positions?'

Seungmin mhm's and slides his hands from your wrists, and groans as his cock is released from your tight squeeze again. "How would you like to—" he laughs under his breath as you turn your body, get on your knees, and lay your head on the pillow, "...be fucked?"

His eyes eat you up, and his hands follow. Seungmin wonders why you haven’t switched things up before now, but he knows why he never does—he likes looking at you, and kissing you and he likes watching you on top of him (and pulling you down). Seungmin never realized how much he liked to kiss until he kissed your breathless lips, and again when he had a knife to his throat. That isn’t the type of treatment his victims get unless it seems absolutely necessary. Seungmin only wants to kiss you.

Considering how shy you were before, he’s surprised at what he’s getting now. Ass up, thighs spread. He resists the urge to use his mouth, only because his cock is aching for you again. He moves his head between your lips, gathering up your warm arousal, mixing it with his pre-cum. The thought of filling you up again makes him ache even more, and he pushes in without warning.

But you said you wanted it rough. You gasp and flinch, and your shaky breath actually makes him pause for a moment. No, you said you want it rough, and he’s giving it to you.

“Stop me if you need to.” Seungmin runs a hand up your back and squeezes your shoulder as he starts to move. In and out, deep and slow at first. “Okay?” He thinks he sees you nod, so he lets go, and the sound as your body meets his is so sweet; the grip on his cock, how much deeper he hits. And he knows he’s hurting you, despite your persistence. Face down in the pillow, fist clenching the sheets—your free hand reaches for his, and Seungmin thinks you want to hold it, but instead you wrap his fingers around your neck.

“Are you sure?” He can barely get it out before you push back into him. “Oh fuck…okay.” Seungmin squeezes, gently, and it seems to satisfy you for now, but he doesn’t want to tighten his grip. He can’t do that, because he hasn’t done this to anyone unless he was ending it. The control might not be there. Maybe it will be, for you, but he doesn’t know for sure, and he’s not willing to risk it.

“More”

“No.” It slips out. He was only thinking it, but he says it again. “No, I can’t.”

“Minnie…”

“I might hurt you.” He leans forward and places a kiss on your back, and keeps moving up, “I can’t,” wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against his chest. “I love you, I can’t.” And he hopes you’ll turn your head and look at him…

You do. “What did you say?”

Seungmin kisses you sweetly and fucks you as gently as possible, because he wants this to last a little longer, but he’s so close. The kissing—the confession…he told you he feels too much sometimes, and he knows you remember.

A little bit of regret swirls in his head, only because you don’t say it right back, but he pushes it away when you twist yourself to kiss him even deeper. Seungmin comes, and his satisfied moan fills your ears and mouth and chest. You feel him shaking as he slows himself and pulls out, and then he’s up, and you need him back, but it’s only for a moment as he helps you roll back to face him.

Now what? He’s staring at you, silent, eyes full of all of those feelings he holds onto so tightly. You could answer him—you could say it right back to cut through this quiet, but you want him to say it again. Instead, he touches. His warm hand closes over your cunt, and his fingers slide up and over your still-sensitive clit. He gives you exactly what you need, and when his mouth start exploring you again, your orgasm already starts to rise.

“Kiss me”

He jumps up to your chest, and your neck, and finally lands on your lips as you come for him.

/ / /

Not getting a positive result on either test was a strange surprise, you have to admit. Every time you’ve had sex, save the first time, it’s ended the same way; you laying here, staring at him, filled with him. Right now, you’re comfortable and curled up in his arms, and you can feel the slow trickle of cum on your thigh. You like it.

“I’ll start birth control, so we won’t have to worry”

You’re not sure he’s still awake until he moves his hand up your back, and laughs under his breath. “I’m not worried. But you don’t want a baby, so we will be careful.”

You don’t want one, not we. Every time he talks on the subject, you move closer to the conclusion that a very big part of him wants a child. You have to find out for sure, and you need to know why, if that is the case. This is a strange home to bring a baby into, you think again. Two damaged parents can’t make a happy, well-adjusted child, can they? No. It doesn't even matter how you feel, or how he feels, because neither not there yet. You might never be.

"Minnie?" Not smiling when you say it seems impossible, Minnie. It's cute, and it doesn't seem to match him, or it didn't when you first met...it does now. You see a Minnie in there; sweet, loving, overflowing with heartache and nowhere to put it.

“Hmm?” Of course he expects you to bring it up, his three stupid little words he couldn’t keep to himself; his sudden outpouring of emotions, because he finally boiled over in the moment. Seungmin wonders if that’s how it usually feels—like you’re going to explode from the pain. That’s how it feels when he’s kneeling in the dirt with his flowers, and that’s how he feels when he remembers too much all at once. But this was a different type of pain.

“Minnie,” you say it again, whisper it, feel it leave your mouth and reach his ears. His eyes grow, and you can see them reflect every little light in the room. Why didn’t you tell him first, and what if Seungmin is wondering that, too? You feel it, and you have felt it far too long in your short time knowing him. He knows that. He knows you’re the one bursting with love for him, he has to know that. “I should have told you.”

There’s so much he doesn’t know, and now you’re going to tell him something that will change whatever this is. “Told me what?”

You hope it changes things for the better. “How I feel." It could always complicate things, or scare him, even though he opened his mouth first.

"Told me how you feel?"

"How I feel when I look at you. How much I love you."

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wildfloweronwheels · 2 months

Text

A pit of nausea is boiling in my stomach today. It’s fury and fear and a sadness that sears to the bone. It swept in suddenly as I opened my phone to the news that three of Taylor Swift’s shows in Vienna, Austria have been cancelled by police due to the thwarting of a terrorist attack. Reading that sentence, I’m back in 2017, chest burning with horror and grief at the bomb that went off as young women danced and sang their hearts out with Ariana Grande. We know what attacks like this look like, we’ve felt them before, their echoes held in the minds and hearts of every live music fan across the world even now.

So, there is also relief swimming in the sick, that the police got to this in time. That they made the call that means thousands of people quite literally live to see another day. My head is spinning thinking about what could’ve been. Feeling for the fans, musicians and Taylor herself whose lives have orbited at least a little around the glittery nights they were promised. The friendship bracelets. The cowboy boots. The glorious high of screaming ‘Fuck the patriarchy’ in a sold out stadium. The expectant hush that falls over things before the opening chords of a surprise song. The putting together of pieces in the mashups that follow. I know it’s just a concert; there’ll be more of them, we hope, but it’s also not…

It's yet more proof that we didn’t need, of an ugly truth, splashed in oozing neon. It rears its head all over the world in millions of foul devastating ways every single day and yet it still hurts every single time. The thing that most frightens men and boys is a woman succeeding. A woman living. A woman thriving. A woman feeling joy. Women gathering together in a communion of emotion that borders on the sacred, because it’s so rare in its safety and warmth.

That’s how I would describe the nights I was privileged enough to spend at the Eras Tour earlier this year. A singular celebration of all a woman has made through her own blood, sweat and tears. A visual and musical experience underpinned by one of my favourite quotes ever from the glorious Carrie Fisher, “Take your broken heart, make it into art.” If you’re anything like me, it’s soundtracked your own.

We’ve watched that heart break and heal again and again. Blows dealt by men loitering in a girlhood they had no place in. By ill-fated romance, snuffed out because egos couldn’t bear the load or because two people just weren’t the right fit. By calculated campaigns designed to distort an image, dismantle a reputation and lay ruin to a legacy. And yet she’s here. And so are we. Women, I mean. Again and again we resist. We persist. We insist.

Our joy is not yours to steal. Our lives are not yours to threaten. We will keep finding it. Rising. Screaming. Teaching the boys and men around us to be better. Defying. Demanding. Deciding. I’m not interested in what you think about Taylor Swift’s music or her privilege, a financial sheen that I remind you protects from no bullet or harm being done to you or innoc ent people, in your name. In fact, it invites it. Over and over again. But I am interested in how you talk about this moment. Right now. The one that almost happened but didn’t. It’s a sliding door so what are we going to make sure waits on the other side of it?

#taylor swift #tw: terrorism #eras tour vienna #the eras tour #swifities #decided to post the full thing

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

Text

Hunger

18+ 1.8k. homelander x f!reader. established relationship. abuse of super strength. overstimulation. excessive orgasming. 69ing. cunnilingus. blowjobs. just a lot of oral.

An exhaustive demonstration of Homelander's insatiable yearning for love, intimacy, and pussy. 🖤

Homelander is a voracious lover.

Nothing is ever enough, or even near to it. If not firmly checked, chaste kisses spill easily into leisurely makeout sessions, which inevitably stoke the perpetual embers of his need into a roaring fire. He runs preternaturally warm, the heat beneath his skin indicative of the ever present undercurrent of his appetite.

His touches always come with a sense of yearning for more, whether it’s an embrace that lingers a second too long or a simple brush of his knuckles up the bare skin of your arm during a moment of your inattention.

He craves, he craves, and he craves, and never do you believe he is fully satisfied.

Never is his hunger more prevalent than when he’s nestled between your thighs, spreading the rose petal soft lips of your pussy apart with two fingers in a wide V. You can feel his eagerness in the heat of his breaths as they waft over your sensitive skin, as hot as mid July’s burning sun. With those simple huffs, he riles you up before his tongue ever touches you.

He spends a while inhaling the nectar sweet smell of you before finally, wonderfully, his tongue drags a scalding line from your cunt to your clit, licking up the wetness that he’s coaxed from you with nothing more than anticipation.

He never fails to moan at that first blissful taste of you.

“Mm, fuck,” he says, voice low and savoring. He swirls his tongue in a circle over your clit, collecting your slick on his tongue like caviar from a silver spoon before he swallows. The muscle of his tongue is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It's just as inhumanly strong as the rest of him, and longer than most, plunging into you with supernatural dexterity before sliding up to rub firm, relentless circles over your clit.

The earnestness of his desire for you, the sincerity with which he devours you elevates you within your own body, leaves you feeling resplendent and coveted in a way you never knew you could.

Homelander doesn’t do this as a means to an end. He does it because he enjoys every rapturous second of you on his tongue. He always holds you still through your climax, presses his tongue flat to the gentle flutter of your clit. You can feel him watching you, but you’re too far gone, back arched, head thrown back.

While it’s always good the first time you come, orgasms are like fireworks. The first handful are only a warm up before the real show begins. By the fifth, the sensation is euphoric, so intense that you lose control of your vocal chords. By the eighth, there comes a dull burn that chases closely behind each one. By the twelfth, the line between pleasure and pain has blurred, but like him, you are addicted to the heat of it all. You tell him that it’s too much, you beg him, but until you specify what for, he will not stop.

You fist your hands in his hair and you sob with the sixteenth orgasm. You would have lost count by now if not for the fact he whispers each number against your skin like a trophy.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, giving your throbbing clit a brief reprieve while he scissors his fingers inside you, thrusting them languidly against the warm, velvety walls of your pussy. “Four more.”

Right. Through the addled haze of pleasure and overstimulation, you remember that he had promised you twenty.

“I can’t,” you whisper, blinking through the blur of tears. You laugh mirthlessly, a hint of mania in your voice. “I can’t–it’s too much.”

“Then tell me to stop,” he whispers in turn, the heat of his words ghosting over your sensitized clit enough to make your whole body jerk, every inch of your skin tingling.

You say nothing. You swear you hear his slick lips split into a grin before you very nearly scream at the returning swelter of his mouth on your cunt.

After twenty orgasms, your entire body aches with pleasure. The muscles in your abdomen suffer with every deep breath you take, thoroughly worked. Your thighs shake uncontrollably. Homelander kisses your own taste into your mouth, and holds you steady while you quiver like a leaf in his arms.

“Holy fuck,” you say eventually, when enough time passes that you’re capable of speech again. You shift tenderly, spread your legs. You’re too sensitive to keep them closed. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re delicious,” he purrs in response, every bit the proverbial cat that got the cream.

After such a marathon, you’d think he would be satiated. At least for a couple of days.

Not even twenty four hours later, Homelander holds you upside down, his nose once again buried in your cunt, your bent knees braced on his shoulders. He has you moaning around his cock, the blood pooling in your skull making you dizzy while his tongue has you squeezing his head between your thighs.

His strength allows him to hold you effortlessly like this, one arm looped around your waist while the other loosely cradles the back of your bobbing head. He’s much less concerned with fucking your face than he is with eating you out, sucking relentlessly on your clit.

You’re still sensitive, scorched by the heat of his tongue, but when you pull your head back to say as much, his hand flexes against your skull and he pushes you right back down onto his cock, burying himself so deeply into your throat that your nose brushes the thatch of hair that beds his cock, and you gag.

Maybe it shouldn’t turn you on, but it instantly hurdles you closer to your inevitable release. You grip his hips, moaning loud and lewd. You clench your thighs with every ounce of strength you can muster, but you may as well be trying to drown a fish. Homelander is utterly dissuaded, devouring you with all of the same unrestrained vigor.

You have no choice but to succumb, light headed and overcome with sensation. Your orgasm builds and hits you with the force of a tsunami, erupting from beneath his tongue and radiating out to every part of you. You choke out noises of pleasure, muffled by his cock in your mouth, but no less shameless.

As he always does, he flattens his tongue to your clit to feel it pulsate like the tender beating heart of a songbird as you come. You relish in the stillness of him, the heat of his mouth, and the crashing wave of your own release. You’re so lost in it that the sudden flood of salty come that pools in your mouth catches you completely off guard, spilling from the corners of your lips.

There was no warning to it, just the release followed by the pitious, desperate way he moans against you as his cock unloads down your throat. He climaxed just from the motionless warm wet of your mouth and the taste of your orgasm against his tongue.

Homelander eases you off of his cock, and you suck in a gasping wet breath, practically delirious with the experience. He shifts you in his grasp until you’re upright again, bridal in his arms. Your head lolls instantly against his chest, the whole world continuing to spin while you’re held perfectly still.

He kisses you. Predictably, it is no less ravenous. He uses that insatiable devil’s tongue to clean yours of his own come, kissing you as much as he’s consuming you.

“I love you,” he says between the insistent press of his lips. He kisses and kisses and kisses, and in each one, you feel how, even directly after coming, he’s still hungry.

“Love me less,” you respond flatly, dead weight in his arms. Your muscles feel like wobbling gelatine and your abdomen is still contracting with the afterwaves of your orgasm. It feels as much a punishment for your hubris as it does a reward.

Unwavering, he laughs, bringing you to the bed. “No can-do. Besides, keeps you nice and docile,” he says, pulling back the covers before he lays you on the bed.

You snort. “Docile? What am I, a 40s housewife at risk for hysteria?”

“Well, you're not a housewife yet,” he says, for which you smack his arm. Incorrigible, he settles in beside you, tugging at you until you flop onto his chest. “But this way, I get you all to myself.”

“Only because I can’t stand the feeling of underwear long enough to leave the house. You’ve maimed me,” you accuse, voice tired and affectionate, lacking any bite at all. Your sleepy smile does little to add any venom.

Homelander cups the side of your face and bumps his nose affectionately against yours before he kisses you. His lips are soft and languid against yours, temporarily robbed of that underlying tension, telling you that he’s put a leash on his hunger.

For now.

“I love you, too,” you say belatedly. His eyes flicker open, as blue and watery as the ocean.

He is a painfully obvious man at times, wearing his love and sentimentality like the scars his impervious body will never show. There is a woundedness to the way he loves you. He claws at you like an animal, consuming your love and attention with the gluttonous appetite of a beast who fears every meal will be his last. No matter how often he indulges in you, a part of him seems shocked that there’s still something left to eat. Shocked that your love for him has neither rotted nor run dry.

Your limbs slot together with his like jigsaw pieces. Not because you were made for one another, but because you chose to fit. It is romantic to think of love as an inevitable thing, that there is one single person out there who will snap to you like a magnet and contour instantly to your every curve. In reality, love feels much more like masonry. Steel against stone, and the conscious choice to change something as immutable as solid rock.

The raw fire heat of him cools to a simmer, and you lay on him like a reptile over a sun warmed stone. You trace idle patterns with your fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest while he memorizes the plains of your body with slow sweeps of his palms. You write phrases on his skin. You laugh when he guesses wrong, and kiss him when he guesses right.

Homelander’s hunger is not only in the consumption, but in being consumed. He aches to feel you yearn for him in turn. You reciprocate his longing in leisurely naps entangled with one another, and in allowing yourself to desire him without reservation. You’ve never played hard to get with him, or made him feel as though he needs to earn your love. You made it clear time and time again that it is unconditional, and that it belongs to him alone.

You wonder if he will ever realize, amidst this frenzying love of his, that you are as starved for him as he is for you.

#no proofreading i'm done #i just wanted to write overly indulgent HL eating pussy and here we are #homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #smut #p sure i've used this gif before but i had to look at that TONGUE

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maknaeswrld · 10 months

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a life remembered | l.mh, h.js

wc: 4.6k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: primarily Han pov; illusions to suggestive conversation; concert highs; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I feel like they need a warning lol, love them the most); arguing but bc they care (not between the soulmates); please let me know if I missed anything

part one: a life forgotten

Soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

When Lee Minho walked into JYP Entertainment for the first time, Jisung didn’t know what to do or how to react, and looking back on it now, it was comical. Minho was, in Jisungs opinion, one of, if not the most, handsome man he’d ever seen. It had struck a chord in him he’d chosen to interpret as jealousy.

When Chan told him he wanted to include Minho in the group he was creating, Jisung couldn’t decide if he was giddy or nervous. He’d met the other boy twice and couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that they knew each other. It wasn’t until their third meeting, the first one in an official capacity, to learn the song Chan wanted to showcase, that Jisung realized why.

The small space of the practice room they were designated to made the group circle a tight one, Minho rushing in and dropping to the floor in the open spot between Jisung and Felix, accidentally brushing against Jisung in the process and shooting them both headfirst into a memory both could swear wasn’t theirs.

Water surrounded them in every direction, the sounds of laughter filling the air. The ship rocked gently as the waves pushed it along steadily.

Minho took Jisungs hand, leading him to the edge of the ship.

“Where is your beautiful mind right now, my love?”

And although it didn’t feel like he was talking to Minho, and there was no response, Jisung’s smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling in pure content.

“Come back to the group, love. The boys are going to start their whining if you ignore them for too long.” Minho groaned.

Again there was no response, as if a chunk of their memory for this specific moment was still missing.

“You know how your boys can get.” Jisung waved nonchalantly, hand grasping at thin air before the two turned back to join the rest of the crew.

Practice was immediately derailed as they were brought back to the present, everyone looking worried as they surrounded the pair.

“What just happened?” Changbin asked, holding Jisungs shoulder to keep him steady.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Jisung couldn’t stop himself from seeking out Minho’s eyes, which were already on him, holding the softest expression Jisung has ever seen in his life.

“Please tell me you saw the ship too.” Minho whispered, voice unsure, hand grasping Jisungs for dear life and all he could do was nod. Minho started nodding along with him, the two slowly morphing from shock to joy as smiles spread across their faces.

Tears pricked at Jisungs eyes the more the realization hit him.

“We’re soulmates.”

````

Five years.

In five years, so much had changed for Han Jisung. In just five years he’d met not only the love of his life, but also his soul brothers, a realization they came to some time after the soulmate realization, as Minho and Jisung saw the rest of the members in almost all of their past lives.

In five years Stray Kids had also risen to a level of fame not one of them had predicted. They were living a life their younger selves could have only hoped to dream of, and they were so beyond grateful and happy to be able to keep doing music together.

But also within those five years, Minho and Jisung had come to the conclusion that something was missing. They were absolutely positive that they were soulmates, of that there was not even a shadow of a doubt, but there were too many holes in their shared memories, conversations that felt one sided, moments in bed with a gap between them that shouldn't be there if they were at peace with one another. But the confirmation that they were missing a piece came in a memory that surfaced much later than the rest, one with Jisung storming up to Minho’s door, fist banging in anger, wedding band adorning his finger but not Minho’s.

That memory was one of Jisung being angry with Minho and not even knowing who he was, with Minho knowing of Jisung but not knowing him personally, of them both being in love with a person that wasn’t the other. Minho is positive he’d despise cheaters in every life, yet was accused of sleeping with a married person. Neither Jisung, nor Minho could remember Jisungs spouse's name, what they looked like, what gender they were, all they knew was that both of them loved them, and they both loved them as desperately as they love one another, and that was enough to convince them that the piece missing was a third soulmate.

They didn’t know how to go about it, they couldn’t even be allowed to share the truth of their relationship and thousands of Stays were claiming to be each members soulmates daily just for a chance of meeting them. The chances of finding their third and final piece was slim at absolute best.

People always say trust the soulmate connection and that time would bring them together, but that was hard knowing you couldn’t remember someone you love.

Han Jisung spent far too many concerts and fan meets searching the crowd in hopes that you’d be there, that he’d finally find you and the trio would finally be complete. Likewise, he’d spent just as many nights disappointed that you were nowhere to be found. With their fame came the higher likelihood of you being able to find them, but that also meant it’d be harder for them to find you. However, Chan and his soulmate, Riley, gave Jisung hope that he would find you.

Lee Minho wanted to find you just as badly, though he looked for you in the mundane. Whilst his partner expected you to reach out via their fame, Minho hoped more for bumping into you on the sidewalk or in a coffee shop, it made him feel more attainable. Minho knew that whilst Riley and Chan made it work, and even Bee and Changbin, there were just as many people that would be scared off by celebrity soulmates as there are seeking them.

Another concert, another night of Jisung daydreaming about finding you in the crowd and whisking you away after to finally meet you and remember you. Riley gave Chan a knowing glare, the parental figures of the group concerned about their younger friend. Ever since the two soulmates came to the conclusion they have a third one, which isn’t unheard of but is fairly rare, their friends have been doubtful to say the least.

No one likes seeing the kicked puppy look on Jisungs face whenever someone mentions that maybe there isn’t anyone else out there, or the way Minho gets defensive when they try to talk to him about the possibility of their memories just not having fully solidified yet. Both in the firm belief that five years connected at the hip was enough time to remember everything. But that didn’t stop the worried glances and strained smiles when they’d start talking about their ‘other soulmate’.

“They’re gonna be here tonight.” Jisung stated as if it were an absolute fact.

“You said that last night, Sungie.” Hyunjin muttered.

“Yeah, but I can feel it this time. They’re in the crowd right now, I’m positive of it.”

“Ji, you have an incredible soulmate already, why are you so eager to find another one?” Bee asked from their almost permanent place snuggled into Changbin. “I’m just saying, I can’t imagine dealing with more than one Binnie.”

“They’re not another Minho, they’re mine and Min’s missing piece.” Jisung argued. It was a conversation that felt all too familiar, and every time one of his soul brothers or other lifetime friends make comments, he feels himself getting just a little more hostile but also a little more defeated.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe there wasn’t a missing piece and they truly just haven’t had the best relationship in every lifetime. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to believe that. Seeing how whole Bee and Bin, and Riley and Chan, were, how they didn’t have memory gaps or questionable moments and conversations, made him feel like there was no other explanation aside from another person to fill the void. It wasn’t like Jisung thought Minho wasn’t enough for him, he wasn’t seeking more from outside their relationship, he loved Minho with every fiber of his being, but he knew Minho wasn’t the only one he’d hold these feelings towards. And Minho knew it too, it was a long conversation to have, one that ended in tears but mutual understanding that they would always have each other and weren’t seeking out this third person for any reason other than them wholeheartedly believing they are also their soulmate.

As the time to go on stage got closer and closer, Jisung felt more antsy. He wasn’t sure why tonight felt different, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Minho tried to calm him down, but was just as on edge.

The concert went smoothly, they always did, but Minho and Jisung both spent far more time engaging towards one specific area than they ever had before. It’s like they couldn’t abandon the section for longer than a few minutes and they always ended up right back there the second they could. Jisung felt better than he had in a long time, adrenaline pumping through his veins and a smile plastered on his face. He felt good, he felt whole for the first time in a long time. Jisung couldn’t explain it, but that stage was the most at home he’d felt since he first found Minho.

As they said their goodbyes to Stay and made their way backstage, the overwhelming peace Jisung had felt slowly faded. He couldn’t think of any reason why, but as he watched Riley smother his leader with kisses and Bee put his best friend into a headlock, he felt himself growing more numb.

Minho wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder, relieving the aching feeling sinking in so fast it would have given Jisung whiplash if he weren’t already used to the other boys' affect on him, body and mind. Jisung could feel giggles bubbling up in him with each soft kiss placed on the base of his neck.

“You were radiant out there tonight, my love.”

“And you were very sexy.” Jisung giggled.

“Hey now! There are children present!” Riley scolded, breaking away from Chan to cover Jeongin’s ears. “Go foreplay somewhere else.”

“Yeah!” Bee shouted from Changbin’s back. “There’s dressing rooms for a reason!”

The look of absolute dismay Riley shot Bee was priceless, “That’s not what the dressing rooms are for.”

“It’s not? Did you know that bro?”

Changbins ears were red. “Please don’t call me bro while talking about this.”

“How about we just all get showered and changed and go grab something to eat?” Chan suggested in a tone that left no room for argument, clapping his hands together and pulling Riley back towards his body. “And stop babying Innie, he’s worse than Bee these days.”

“I will never stop babying my baby, but I am hungry.” Riley muttered in agreement. “If y’all take too long in the shower, we’re leaving without you.” Riley pointed at Bee and Changbin, who’s ears somehow got even more red. Bee just winked at their best friend, shiteating grin plastered on their face.

Twenty minutes later, Jisung piled into the van with his bandmates and additional soulmates, Seungmin and Hyunjin discussing what they wanted to eat whilst Felix snuggled into Bee’s side, the two looking at memes while Changbin pouted.

Jisung felt more drained than he had in a long time, his social battery past empty and moved on to completely fried. Minho pulling him into his side eased some of the anxiousness starting to well up.

“No panic attacks after amazing shows.” Minho whispered.

Jisung buried his head further into the other mans neck. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” He kissed the crown of his head gently, smiling softly while tightening his hold. “I’m seriously so proud of you.”

The ride was uneventful out to the opposite side of the city, in hopes less people would recognize them so they could have their meal in peace. Minho and Jisung were the last of the group to venture out of the vehicle and towards the restaurant. They didn’t get too far before a voice rapping along to Han’s part to All In stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Y/n, please, you’re in public.”

“You’re wasting your breath, you know how they are about their spotlight songs.”

Han’s eyes landed on the person rapping his line with such ease it was as if they’d written it themself. He felt excitement flood through him instantaneously, rushing over and joining them, singing along to the song playing quietly in the outdoor speakers overhead.

He watched your eyes light up as the two of you sang along together, ignoring your friends and focusing on one another. Not a thing in the world was registering to either of you as you both turned to Minho, watching as he rolled his eyes, smile already playing at his lips, joining in for the last parts of the song.

Your laughter filled the air as the song came to an end, and Jisung could swear it was already becoming one of his favorite sounds.

“Took you long enough.”

Your voice was laced with amusement.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You know I don’t like singing by myself.” You nudged his shoulder lightly, causing him to wrap his arm around your shoulders and squeeze tight.

“But your voice is so nice!”

A blush lit up your cheeks in an instant, mouth opening to respond when someone clearing their throat behind you drew the groups attention.

“Y/n, um, what?”

“Min! Sungie! Hurry your asses up or we’re gonna eat without you.” Bee shouted from down the way, drawing Jisungs attention just long enough for you to slip out of his hold.

By the time he or Minho could focus back on you, you were gone. No trace of a person having been standing with them, as if you’d been a figment of their imagination.

“Sungie…”

“I know.”

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Minho was staring off into the direction you had to have gone in, itching to run after you. Jisung stared at his hands, in disbelief that just moments prior he was holding the final piece of his puzzle in those same hands.

You, the random stranger unabashedly performing one of their songs in the middle of the street, were the one person Jisung and Minho had been looking for incessantly. The person they knew they couldn’t remember.

“Do you ever wonder what we’d be like if we didn’t find each other? What’d it’d be like if we don’t keep finding each other?”

Jisung was used to thinking these types of questions, but hearing you ask them out loud hurt more than him thinking them ever did.

“I’d rather imagine we’ll always find each other.” Jisung grumbled, tightening his hold on both of the bodies on either side of his.

“Okay but what if-”

“There are no what if’s, my love. We’ll always find one another, in every lifetime, even if some take a little longer than others. I don’t see a reason to dwell on the impossibility of not ending up right back here every single time.”

You snuggled deeper into Jisungs chest, hand squeezing Minho’s.

“I suppose you’re right.” You mumbled. Minho squeezed your hand comfortingly in response.

Jisungs arms shifted entirely around you, squeezing as he rolled over to toss you in the middle, both of your soulmates wanting to hold you close. You sighed in content, snuggling into your boys happily.

“I am so dead serious right now, you two. We will absolutely eat without you if you don’t- why do your faces look like that?”

“We found them.”

“Found who? Why are you being cryptic.”

“We found our other soulmate.” Jisung said.

Bee’s mouth dropped open and within moments all of their brothers and Riley were there, bombarding them with questions.

“Okay, so is no one surprised that they actually have another soulmate? Is that just me?” Hyunjin said, a smack from Seungmin following shortly after.

“Which direction did they go? We need to find them!” Jeongin said, already shifting from one foot to the other as if he were ready to sprint in any direction in a moments notice.

“We didn’t actually see what direction they went in because somebody distracted us.” Jisung glared at Bee.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m hungry and didn’t know.” They huffed.

“We were facing that way so they definitely couldn’t have gone in that direction.” Minho cut in, knowing a grumpy Jisung and a hangry Bee is never a good combination. They loved each other like siblings but damn could they argue until they both turned blue.

“Alright, everyone pick a direction and let's find our boys’ soulmate.” Chan said, “Go in pairs and meet here in one hour, no exceptions. Even if everyone comes back empty handed, we have to at least try.” Turning to his first and last children, his eyes and tone softened. “Is there anything we can use to recognise them?”

Jisung immediately jumped into a full description, followed by Minho simply saying, “Ask if they know ‘All In’. They were singing it with us just now.”

Nods all around as people started pairing up.

“Okay, I’m going with Ji.” Riley stated, looping their arm through Jisungs. “Channie, you take Min. Bin and Bee, separate. I am not dealing with soulmates getting distracted and off mission right now.”

Before Jisung could even think about protesting, he was being swept away by Riley in the first direction he would have guessed you ran in. Jisung struggled to keep up with the pace set by Riley as they ducked into shops and restaurants, checking bathrooms and fitting rooms as they went. Riley wanted to cover as much ground as possible in the one hour timeframe given, which Jisung was appreciative of. However, Jisung hoped Minho and Chan were having better luck, or anyone else for that matter.

He wanted to find you more than anything. Knowing he had you in his arms was enough for him to get addicted to you, and if he stopped for a moment and focused on his memories, he was sure you were already fitting yourself into almost every single one..

Every one sided conversation suddenly being completed, all those nights spent with an unnecessary space between himself and Minho being filled by you. Your presence for those four minutes he got with you had already led to a downward spiral of need to be close to you, to hold you in his arms once more.

In combination with the presence of you in old memories, as if you’d always been there, there was also a small onslaught of new memories, ones without Minho but including you. Ones that further solidified your rightful place within his life.

As another memory flashed behind his eyes, he took a seat on a bench outside of a small corner store.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked, always a mother hen.

“I’m fine, just, check this one without me, I need a moment.”

Riley seemed to understand and didn’t ask questions as they pat him on the back and wandered into the store.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” A voice whispered in your ear as hands made their way around your waist. “Because I feel like we’ve met before and I’d like to get to know you again.”

You could smell the stench of alcohol emanating off the stranger feeling you up in the middle of the dance floor. Rolling your eyes, you ripped his hands off you, turning around and shoving him back for safe measure.

“I do believe in soulmates, and you sure as hell ain’t mine. But the guy who is doesn’t really take kindly to strangers touching what's his.”

Before the idiot could open his mouth again, Jisungs arm slid into place across your shoulders, pulling you in for a downright make out session right in the middle of the bars dance floor.

When he finally pulled away, the dude was nowhere to be seen.

“Took you long enough.” You said teasingly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He smiled gently, and then led you to the booth he’d been watching you from.

You shook your head as you splashed water on your face in the bathroom, your best friend, Lia, pacing behind you.

“I thought you wanted to avoid them?”

Lia was the only person you’d confided in after coming to terms with the fact that your soulmates were not one, but two international superstars.

“I did, but, I don’t know. It was like being like that with them was so natural I didn’t even register that we don’t know each other. It felt right.”

“Do you think they know?”

Sighing, you lightly tapped your head against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know. If they don’t yet, we’ve met now, it’s only a matter of time before I start filtering into their memories.”

“Do you want to keep hiding from them? Y/n/n, they know now, there’s no avoiding them not remembering you anymore. Don’t you think avoiding them now will just cause unnecessary pain?”

“I know that! I do. But, I’m not sure I could handle being in their world, and what if they end up resenting me for ruining the good thing they already had? They’ve been together for so long, and then I just blindside them with my existence? What if they didn’t even know they had a third soulmate?”

“Then they do now and they’re probably looking everywhere for them. Those two don’t seem like the type to resent you for coming into their lives, but they might if you enter it just to disappear forever. I get the feeling now that they know, they’ll never stop looking for you. Do you understand that?”

You opened your mouth to answer when the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just looking for someone.” The stranger looked flushed, as if they’d been running, but even so you could tell they were stunning. “Um, neither of you happen to know the song All In, do you?”

You and Lia shot each other confused but nervous looks, which seemed to be enough for this stranger who finally let the bathroom door shut behind them, leaning against it and eyeing you both.

“So which one of you is the runner?”

“What do you mean?”

“One of you just met your two soulmates and then booked it while they had their backs turned, which was it?”

Lia threw her hands up in defense, pointing at you in the process and backing up.

“Traitor.” You mumbled, causing her to stifle a laugh.

The stranger blocking the exit landed their gaze on you, “I ran too.”

Of all the things you were expecting them to say, that was definitely not on the list of possibilities.

“It’s scary,” They continued, pushing off the door and walking towards you. “But the separation is worse. I promise you, it’s better than you can possibly imagine. The company takes good care of us, and while we aren’t allowed to be public, we go pretty much everywhere with the boys if we want to. They don’t do anything to risk our relationships.”

“I’m sorry but, who are you and what do you mean by our?”

“Oh! I’m Riley, I’m Chan’s soulmate. And Changbin found his as well, their name is Bee. I went through the running and being scared of falling for someone in the industry but Bee was already in the industry themself when they found Bin, so it was slightly easier for them. Sorry, I’m rambling, but my point is we’re both here for you and we both understand how you’re feeling. And that those men you just left in the dust are two of the best I’ve ever met, and they’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

That comment shocked you to your core.

They’ve been looking for you.

“How could they be looking for me, they couldn’t have even known about me.”

Riley seemed to hesitate. “To be honest, none of us believed them. For a while we really just assumed that they found each other at such a young age they’ve never experienced anything but one another, so the whole third soulmate thing was just sort of a way to come to terms with the fact that they wanted a change of pace or something. But, here you are, and we stand corrected.

“They may not have known you, or known how to find you, but they’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.” Then Riley quirked their head in a very parental like motion. “You already knew, didn’t you.”

It was phrased as a question, but was completely an irrefutable statement.

“How long have you known?” Where you were expecting harshness or judgment, you received only the sound of sheer curiosity.

“Almost a year now.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around yourself for a sense of security.

Riley blanched. “A YEAR?!”

You just nodded.

“Damn hun, I would’ve lost my mind if I’d known who Chris was for a whole year. How the hell did you manage that?!”

“By convincing themself that Minho and Han were already happy and better off without them, that they’d just throw a hitch in their lives that they didn’t need.” Lia stated, you could practically hear her rolling her eyes at you. Riley’s eyes softened at her words.

Grabbing your hands in one hand, Riley brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, gently cupping your cheek. “I know exactly how you feel. When I found Chris, I ran too. I didn’t think I could survive his work schedule, the expectations placed on him, all the fans claiming him, but he is so worth every single difficulty and so much more. I know you’re scared right now, and it’s probably worse for you because it’s just Chris and me, but Min and Ji already adore you, they could never be happier without you than they will be with you, I can promise you that much.

“I understand if you’re not ready yet. I wasn’t ready for a long time myself, so if it’s okay with you, I want to give you mine and Bee’s numbers, you can reach out to us with any and all questions, concerns, whatever. Heck, if you just want to use them to get to know us, that’s fine too. I didn’t have anyone to help me, but you have us, we’ll help you all the way. Think about it, okay? All three of you will be so much happier together. You aren’t meant to be apart.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You knew Riley was right, you’d always known you’d be happier with them, but you also knew there was no way for you to get their attention, no way for them to actually find you, now that you had, now that they knew you, you were truly out of logical reasons to avoid taking your place by their sides.

Because soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

next part: a life eluded

a/n: ahhhhhh part two, I feel like it’s been done for a while but I’ve been like nervous about it idk, anyways I hope you enjoyed!! I know it’ll run for at least two more parts with potential for spin off(s) on the others finding their soulmates or even ‘prequels’ of Riley and Chan as well as Bee and Changbin🫣🤭 please feel free and encouraged to leave your thoughts and opinions and also lemme know if you’d be interested in being tagged in upcoming parts? ciao!! 🫶

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