#[ throwing in some random angst lol ]

[midnightwind]

yeah I still hate the story beats around killing Ghilan'nain the second time around lmao this coulda been so mean, but instead it's suuuuper rushed

[vuulpecula]

“Hey, hey, look at me, it is going to be okay.” Fox was careful, slow as she reached for the other. Hesitant because there was no telling how people would react these days. It was clear, at least, that this young woman wasn’t one of the dead. Not yet at least. She offered out a canteen, one hand still raised, showing her palm, trying to convey that she meant no harm. The same couldn’t necessarily be said for the others waiting nearby, obviously impatient. “Here, it’s water, you need to drink.” There was a scoff from behind her shoulder that she ignored, knowing it was likely accompanied by a hissed: we don’t have water to spare; this one is probably going to die anyway, just save her the time and the trouble. “I’m Fox,” she offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “What’s your name?”

@aliciaclark-rp ❤'d for a starter !

[notlongtolove]

the garden is growing

"you live together, work together. doesn’t it all get a little boring?" there’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. the cups of tea, the folding of blankets. you could never call that boring.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff! maybe angst if you really really squint

content: after catching up with an old friend, bau!reader and bf!spencer have a contemplative talk about their relationship as they walk home. domestic... mentions of marriage... lurve in the air...

word count: 2.2k

note: a post finals treat to myself! leaned heavy into the garden imagery for this one lol, this was heavily inspired by the poem linked, i highly recommend it! o i also added some song recs below for this one :P (ps i did not mean to compare spencer's eyes to PEBBLES but it was either that or a random brown flower... sorry.)

a line: The perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say Except that the garden is growing. - wendy cope

When you were younger, you had a garden. A field just a stone's throw from your front door. Not the kind in a backyard, fenced in and manageable. No, it was wild and uncontained, the grass alive beneath your feet. They used to say love was like a garden. You'd think about that sometimes—how you were supposed to tend to it, rake and comb and pull out the weeds before they strangled your beautiful flowers. And when it rained, you just had to let it. Let the downpour come and see what survived.

You’re standing under the awning, shaking droplets off your jacket. You mumble a thanks to the doorman as he holds the door open, offering a silent nod in return. The door opens to a polished, marble lobby, and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how out of place you look. You’d come straight from the office, having dwindled your stack of case files from a grand total of 26 to a modest 19. The grand mirror to your left does nothing to help. If anything, it’s magnifying the creased fabric of your trousers and the damp strands of hair stuck to your cheek. You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeves and smoothing your hair out in a futile attempt at order. It was urgent she’d said. A matter of utmost importance. You’re not sure why you’re here, but you know with certainty that you’d rather not be.

She sees you before you see her. She calls out for you, the nickname wrapping around you like a sweater one size too small—warm but suffocating. It might as well be. You haven’t seen her in nearly a year—maybe a year and a half? You shrug, suddenly missing Spencer’s precision, his ability to pin things down to the day, the hour.

"Hi," you manage, sliding into the seat opposite her. “I’m really sorry. Work was crazy—" you start, but your words dissolve the moment she thrusts her hand forward. A diamond—no, a boulder—catches the light, dazzling and deliberate. You nearly choke on the glass of water you’ve just picked up. 

"Let me tell you about crazy," she says, her grin sharpening. 

Oh, the yacht! And don’t even get me started on the violins, can you believe it! The sea was just gorgeous—Did I mention it was on a yacht? Her words tumble out as you try to follow along, but you can’t quite keep up, only noting it definitely involved an abhorrent amount of Dom Perignon.

“I wish you could’ve been there to see it,” she says, her voice tinged with what you hope is nostalgia and not pity.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you murmur, and you mean it—sort of. You used to be close, but since starting at the BAU, everything else kind of took a backseat. It had to. “I wish I could’ve too. Work’s been—”

"Crazy, right," she cuts in, waving it off. "Big fancy BAU," She winks. "That job’s gonna be the death of you one day y’know, all those hours." You force a laugh, but her words hit a little too literally, heavier than she knows. You don’t think she quite grasps the reality of your work.

“So,” she says, leaning in now, her chin propped delicately on her hand, her diamond ring catching the light. You can’t help but think it’s mocking you. “How’s things going with Spencer?”

"Oh, they’re going fine."

"Fine?" She raises her brows. "Trouble in paradise?"

“No, not at all,” you insist, your voice instinctively rising in defence. “We’re—fine. You know, same old, same old. We just wrapped a big case actually. This guy—” You cut yourself off, realizing mid-sentence that the story of a guy meticulously collecting hair from women post-mortem doesn’t feel like the kind of story to share during dinner under a sparkling chandelier—Not that you’re doing much eating anyway. The menu was a labyrinth of fancy salads, obscure cheeses, and entrées described in French that you’re only half sure translate to lamb. You’d settled for pushing a few greens around your plate, making a mental note to stop by the bodega later.  

Her laugh pulls you back to the table, "I don’t know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You know… Live together, work together, day in, day out. Doesn’t it all get a little..." She trails off, letting her expression finish the sentence. 

"A little… what?" 

"Boring?"

You blink. "Boring?" 

The word tastes bitter. You don’t like it. The way the dog always chases the cat? Boring. The way the cat always seeks shelter in the same tree? Boring. But the way they both come running home every time you call? That’s never boring. Spencer in the quiet mornings—hair tousled, voice soft and sleepy as he murmurs a 'good morning.' The cups of tea, the folding of blankets. You could never call that boring. 

She laughs lightly, the sound cutting through the restaurant’s hum. "Not in a bad way! I just mean... do you guys even go out? Like, for fun? You guys have been together for, what like, years now?” Three years and 4 months, you think to yourself. You’d never need Spencer’s eidetic memory to remember that. 

"Well, yeah, sure we do…" you say finally. "Um, we went to a museum recently." You don’t tell her it was to interview a suspect. Her smile tightens, like she’s not sure whether to believe you or feel sorry for you. You take a careful sip of water, resisting the urge to shift under her gaze. There’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. Outside, the rain keeps falling.

By the time you part with polite hugs and hollow smiles, the downpour has softened to a drizzle. Spencer is waiting by the curb, hair slightly damp. His eyes light up at the sight of you. Under the glow of the streetlight, they remind you of the pebbles you used to collect by the garden path. You’d carry them home, pocketful by pocketful, washing and scrubbing at them until they shone. Only your favourites made it to your shelf. Tiny, perfect trophies.

“Hi, honey.”

"Hiya." You lean into his chest, a tired smile tugging at your lips as you manage a strained, “I’m starving.” 

“Hi starving. Care for a burrito?” he asks, tilting a takeout bag toward you with a small smile.

Your eyes meet his, and there’s something in his smile—soft, understanding, familiar—that makes your chest ache. “How’d you know?” you ask, practically tearing into the bag.

“Searched the menu after you left,” he says simply, falling into step beside you as you start walking. “Figured you wouldn't have liked much in there," he shrugs, casual. You feel your cheeks warm. Two hours away from Spencer Reid is two hours too long. 

The walk home is quiet at first, the two of you picking your way around puddles reflecting neon signs. The burrito’s long gone, leaving your hand free for Spencer to hold, fingers interlocked.

“She’s engaged,” you say eventually.

Spencer furrows his brows. “Already?”

“It’s only been like, what, eight? nine months?”

Spencer frowns, pauses then says, “256 days”, the precision drawing a faint smile from you.

“Crazy isn’t it?”

“I guess. Some people are like that,” he says, “Did you know statistically, couples who get engaged within the first year of dating are 20% more likely to divorce within the first five years?”

“With that prenup incoming she’d better hope they’re the exception then…” you murmur, not really listening. 

There’s something in your chest, persistent and heavy. You can feel its roots stirring, working its way beneath the surface, threatening to loosen the earth that keeps you grounded. 

A few more steps in silence. Then, quietly, “Do you think we’re boring?”

“Boring?” Spencer tilts his head slightly. “Do you think we’re boring?”

You hesitate, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t think we’re boring, but you know, we don’t do much.” 

“We’re in the FBI, honey. I’d argue we do a lot.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching playfully. You try to laugh, but it comes out forced, brittle—like a flower trying to push out a bloom that's not quite ready yet.

Spencer notices, as he always does. “Is there something you want to do?” It stirs in you again, something tender and uncertain. You don’t know if it will be a flower that blooms or a weed that chokes out everything else. 

“No,” You say a little too quickly, “Nothing really, just... Other than work and home—”

“What’d she say?”

“Hm?”

“You love work, you live for it—I practically have to drag you out of the office most days,” he reasons, tone calm and steady. “And, if this is something that was bothering you… I’d have known. So it must’ve been something she said.” You stop walking, the words catching in your throat. It bothers you—how her vines have crept into your garden, straight through to the soil beneath. Flowers rarely thrive in foreign soil, you think. 

“Not really,” you lie, biting your lip—a tell Spencer surely catches. “We just talked about the engagement. Well, she talked.”

He doesn’t press, though you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His gaze lingers, but he chooses to give you space. “How was it? The engagement.”

“Something about a yacht,” you reply with a shrug.

“I thought she was afraid of water.”

“Not when it’s on a million-dollar vessel, apparently.”

Spencer chuckles. You continue to walk. Your feet do their best to trace the familiar trail, trying to find the garden path that takes you home. Left. Right. Left. Right. But your thoughts snag, tripping on an unseen vine, and you stumble.

“Do you ever think about it?” you ask.

“About what?”

“Like... if we ever get married and stuff.”

Now it’s Spencer’s turn to stop mid-step, rooted to the spot, his body going still. You freeze too, breath trapped in your chest, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you rush to say, the guilt sharp and immediate. “That was silly, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

You tug softly on his hand trying to pull him forward, but he doesn’t budge. His brows knit together as his gaze locks with yours. 

“When.” 

“When what?”

“You said if. I’m saying when. When we get married.”

“When we get married?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When. Not if. I don’t think really of it as a hypothetical possibility.”

Your chest tightens and you don’t know exactly what to say, but your fingers instinctively tighten around his. Spencer senses your silence and rushes to fill the space.

“Do you… not think that?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I do! Of course, I do.” Your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t know you thought about it that way too.”

Spencer hums, soft smile on his face. “I know I tend to look at things in terms of statistics, probabilities—But us? There’s no ‘ifs’. Not with you, honey. Never with you.”

And just like that, the earth beneath you shifts, breaking apart to reveal a bud. Not a flower but a fruit-bearing tree. You try and fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him, but he’s already leaning in, his lips warm and familiar against yours. As you pull back, eyes locked, you think back to the pebbles you used to collect. Your tiny, perfect trophies—Spencer’s eyes are far better, you think. 

“You smell like burrito,” he teases. You laugh, the sound light and easy. “You love burritos.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “I love you.”

Through the clearing, you see it. The vines have receded, the rain has come and gone. Your feet step off the garden path with certainty. It’s safe now. It’s here. 

“So,” you say with renewed excitement, your steps light as you glance at him, “Beach wedding?”

Spencer wrinkles his nose. “Do you have any idea how much fecal bacteria there is in beach sand?”

“Blegh.” 

“No, seriously. Beach sand has 10 to 100 times more fecal bacteria than seawater.”

“How about we don’t throw around the word ‘fecal’ when my burrito is still working its way through me,” you reply, grimacing. “What’s your genius idea then?”

He grins. “Barn wedding?”

“Spence, I love you, and I know you’ve always wanted to be a cowboy, but I’m not walking down the aisle with hay in my hair.”

He laughs, shaking his head as you walk side by side, hands swaying between you. Spencer spots a perennial growing out of concrete cracks by the lamppost 2 steps ahead of you. 

“What about a garden wedding? In spring?” 

“A garden wedding,” you say, a soft smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, I’d really like that, spring’s nice.”

"Okay,” he says, hand warm in yours, “in spring then."

There’s no towering oak tree, ancient and steadfast, to mark this moment, no circle of wildflowers dancing wildly around with their colours. But still the perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

They used to say love was like a garden. When his drought comes, silent but devastating nonetheless, you quench it with your rain—soft, temperamental. And when your rain changes her tide, thrashing and wild, he shelters you beneath his leaves, vast and unyielding. Together you prune the dead parts, plant anew, and marvel at what thrives.

The next time someone asks you how things are going, there’s no pursed smile or hesitant pause, distant in thought. You just smile and say it's going. It's going alright. It's going great. It’s going fine. 

Because all that matters is that it's going. 

Your garden is growing. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: nothing by bruno major love letter from the sea to the shore by delaney bailey

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

bestfriend!jay x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: f2l, fake dating, fluff & a tiny bit of angst | words: 5.7k | cw: mentions of food, skinship, curse words, a tiny bit suggestive at some points ୨୧

hanna says: short mention of &team's nicholas for the sake of the plot; he can literally be read as any other guy, i just needed another name lol

hanna says more: i know this is the second f2l au i've written about jay but i just can't help it

────────────────────

you were just about to settle down on the sofa next to jay for your usual friday night movie marathon when you heard a low groan escape his lips. his hand was tangled in his hair, frustration evident on his furrowed brows as he stared intently at his phone screen.

“someone’s not excited about movie night?” you teased. “i promise, i’m not making you rewatch finding nemo for the tenth time!”

your best friend shot you a glare, clearly not in the mood for your humor. “it’s not the movie night, idiot,” he said with a low voice. “i have to go back home for family dinner tomorrow…” he explained.

your amused expression shifted to one of confusion. “what’s so bad about that?” you asked.

after all, his family was insanely sweet, and the food was immaculate. you knew that from years of friendship. ever since the two of you had become friends some time in high school, you’d always looked forward to being at his place – specifically when you knew there would be food. and there’d always be food, both of his parents being not only skilled cooks but also very passionate about it. luckily, these traits rubbed off on jay, so now, after you both had left your hometown for college and decided to move in together for the sake of sharing rent, you had your own personal chef.

“nothing usually… but they haven’t stopped asking about my love life ever since we moved here, and it’s so annoying,” he whined, throwing his head back into the cushions of the sofa in frustration. “my mom keeps on asking; i swear she’ll set me up with a random girl if i don’t show up with a girlfriend in the next two months.”

you put your lips together tightly, trying not to laugh at his words. he noticed despite your effort to hide it and took the nearest pillow to throw it at you. “it’s not funny! they just don’t stop.” the tone of his voice grew more desperate.

you successfully dodged the pillow, letting out a small chuckle. “well, why don’t you just tell them that you’re not into girls?” you asked, breaking out in laughter as you saw the bewildered expression on his face. “you’re a terrible friend; you’re no help at all!” he complained, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

your laughter died down soon after, and you looked at him with a more sincere expression. “no, but i’m serious, jay. just tell them that you’re not looking for anything right now. you’re focusing on college, and you’re doing well… and that’s what they’d want for you, after all.”

he sighed. “yeah, no. i tried, but they just don’t stop asking.”

you hummed, thinking about how to help him out of the constant questions. “i mean… it’s not like you haven’t gotten to know any girls,” you started, remembering some nights that he’d asked you to stay over at a friend’s house, or you cursing him for waking you up in the middle of the night when he was busy with a girl next door to your room. “you can tell them you just haven’t found the right one yet. you wouldn’t even lie.”

before he could reply, you blurted out the next idea that came to your mind. “or just ask one of them to join you?”

he shook his head without hesitation. “no way in hell, that would be so awkward. i cannot appear with a girl who i know nothing of and pretend to be her boyfriend? they’ll catch on immediately,” he protested. “besides, i don’t even have the numbers for half of them.”

you raised an eyebrow, looking at him in surprise. he wasn’t the type to fool around, and you knew he hadn’t been with too many girls, but it still surprised you – you wouldn’t have thought your best friend since high school turned out to be this type of person after all.

"you’re terrible, jay,” you laughed.

silence stretched between you for a while. jay’s forehead wrinkled, showing he was deep in thought, before he suddenly looked at you with an expression you didn’t quite understand.

“stop looking at me like that; you’re scaring me,” you said, half joking, half serious.

“you could help me,” he blurted out, before even processing his own thought.

“i already gave you all my ideas,” you replied.

“no, i mean…” he paused as if searching for the right words, “you can pretend to be my girlfriend.”

your eyes widened at his suggestion, the air getting stuck in your throat, forcing you to choke out a cough. “what the fuck?”

“doesn’t it make sense? i mean… i know you, so it won’t be hard to answer any questions. they won’t even ask many. we’re not awkward around each other, and you also know my family, so it won’t be weird either,” he explained, but you shook your head.

“they know me as your friend, jay. and besides that, how the hell do you want to explain it to them once you found a real girlfriend? you’ll just tell them we went back to being friends? or you’ll lie to them and say we ended the friendship too? for the rest of your life? it’s just complicating things much more,” you protested.

another sigh came from his lips. “i don’t know either, but can’t we figure that out later?” he looked at you with a pleading look – one you usually couldn’t resist.

“no,” you crossed your arms, “as your best friend, i have to stop you from making dumb decisions… and there’s nothing in it for me either way so–”

“a month of free coffee,” jay interrupted you quickly, and as you raised an eyebrow, he corrected himself, “two. two months.”

you squinted your eyes as if thinking about his offer.

“and i’ll cook and do the dishes for the next two weeks. please, y/n,” he pouted, which drew a sigh from you.

“fine,” you agreed after some time, “but don’t make it weird. only in front of your family. and don’t you dare kiss me!” you said, a playful disgust in your voice.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as it was time to get ready for the family dinner, you rummaged through your closet, feeling a wave of panic wash over you. “what am i going to wear?” you muttered, tossing clothes aside like they were useless scraps. you felt the pressure of the evening ahead, the weight of pretending to be jay’s girlfriend pressing down on you.

“relax, y/n. it’s not a big deal,” jay said, leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile on his face. “you’ve been to my house a million times.”

“yeah, but this time it’s different. it’s not just a casual hangout. they’re gonna think we’re dating,” you replied, running a hand through your hair, which had suddenly become a tangled mess from all your fidgeting.

“so what? just wear something you’re comfortable in. trust me, my mom just wants to see you,” he reassured you, stepping into your room to help. “how about that blue dress? it always looks great on you.”

you paused, glancing at the dress hanging in your closet. “i don’t know… it might be too much.”

“it’s perfect,” he insisted, plucking it off the hanger and holding it up to you. “just put it on. and besides, you want to impress my mom, right?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile at his playful tone. “fine, but if i look ridiculous, you’re the one who picked it out.”

after a few moments of back-and-forth, you finally slipped into the dress while jay waited outside your door. when you stepped out, you saw his eyes widen slightly. “wow, you look amazing,” he said genuinely, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “like, really amazing.”

“thanks,” you replied shyly, feeling butterflies start to swirl in your stomach, before you forced them to die down. “but now i need to do something with my hair.”

“don’t stress about it. you can just leave it down. it looks great that way,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, but you could tell he meant it, so you left your hair and instead busied yourself with a quick makeup touch-up, trying to ignore the fluttering nerves that came with his soft remarks.

when jay was driving to your hometown, the familiar sights began to flash by the window, memories flooding your mind. the drive was a bit long, but it was filled with easy conversation and laughter, although tension simmered just beneath the surface.

“you sure you’re okay?” jay asked as he glanced at you.

“yeah, just… nervous,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“you’ll be fine. you know my family loves you. just act like you always do. they won’t suspect a thing.”

as he pulled into the driveway, you could see the warm glow of the porch lights illuminating his family’s home. jay parked the car, and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come.

when you stepped inside, jay’s mom was already in the hallway, a huge smile spreading across her face. “y/n! it’s so good to see you! it’s been a while, come here!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. you felt the warmth of her embrace wash away some of your nerves.

“hi, mrs. park,” you replied, grinning as she stepped back, looking you up and down.

“but why did jay bring you? is everything okay?” she asked, a hint of concern lacing her words.

you shot him a nervous glance. “did you not inform her beforehand?” you whispered.

“uh, well…” jay interjected, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “actually, mom, i brought her as a surprise. we’re dating now.” he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, a confident smile on his face as he glanced between you and his mother.

you felt your heart race, the sudden admission leaving you momentarily speechless. you shot him a look of uncertainty, but he just shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“oh, that’s wonderful!” she said, her expression brightening. “i’m so happy for you two!” she clapped her hands together excitedly, and you could see the genuine joy in her eyes. “you know, i always thought you might end up together… ah, you two make such a cute match!” she brought her hand up to softly squeeze jay’s cheek between her thumb and index finger. your heart dropped just slightly at her happy demeanor; guilt creeping up on you for lying to her.

after you went inside and greeted jay’s dad, you helped his mom to set the table, feeling more at ease with each passing moment. you chatted with her about various things – college, work, the food she was preparing – anything to keep the atmosphere light.

jay hovered close, keeping his hand on your waist as you moved around, grounding you as you tried to navigate the situation. every touch sent a rush of goosebumps down your skin, but you quickly brushed it off. it felt strangely natural, though, and you could see how easily he seemed to slip into this role.

“you’re really great with my parents,” he whispered as you stood by the kitchen island, layering plates with napkins. you glanced up, meeting his gaze and feeling the warmth radiate from him.

“thanks, jay. you know i love your family,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but for a strange reason, your heart was racing.

a few minutes later, as you helped jay’s mother to bring the dishes to the table, you overheard jay talking to his dad. “she’s just incredible, dad,” he said, and you couldn’t help but catch the hint of pride in his voice. “she’s smart, funny, and just gets me.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, your heart fluttering at his words – especially because he had said them when you weren’t even in the room. it was a little embarrassing, but in a good way. yet, you tried to shove the feeling aside, sitting down to start eating.

“so, how long have you two been dating?” his dad asked, looking between you and jay, a curious glint in his eyes.

“about two months,” jay replied casually, but you could see the slight tension in his shoulders.

“why didn’t you tell us sooner?” his dad pressed, an amused smile playing on his lips.

jay shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “i just wanted to make sure everything worked out before telling you. didn’t want to jump the gun.”

you glanced at him, appreciating how easily the lies slipped over his lips, until a pang of guilt hit you again. it felt wrong to be lying to his parents, who seemed so genuinely happy for the both of you.

throughout and even after dinner, as the conversation still flowed, jay’s hand remained on your thigh, and you felt the tension in your body slowly dissipate. jay felt good to have you close to him, the touches coming naturally, without him having to think about it. he loved how you felt against him – the way your body fit perfectly by his side.

you caught him glancing at you with a soft expression, and for a brief moment, it felt like you shared a silent understanding. it didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would; instead, it felt oddly comfortable, just a little more domestic than usual. maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

a few days after dinner – things had returned to normal between you two – you found yourself sitting in the small kitchen of your shared apartment. you sat across from each other, quietly sipping the coffee jay had bought, as he promised, both of you occupied with your phones rather than talking.

suddenly, a loud ringtone broke the silence, startling you. you glanced at jay, who briefly met your gaze before answering his phone.

"what's up, ki?" he asked.

"is y/n with you?" you could make out riki’s voice on the other end. jay raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"yeah, why? let me know if i need to step out, in case you're gonna say something gross," he teased.

"no, actually put me on speaker," riki instructed. after jay signaled he had done so, riki continued, "you two are so fake. first, you come back home for a day without saying a single word about it, and now you're dating?"

your eyes widened in shock, turning to jay with a hundred of questions written over your face.

"what do you mea–" jay began, but riki cut him off.

"bro, your mom asked me how long we’ve known you’re together."

it suddenly clicked. riki had grown close to jay’s parents too. after leaving his home country without his parents, and befriending jay at school, they had taken him under their wing, ensuring he was looked after, fed, and had a place to spend the holidays when he couldn’t return to japan.

"you two better get your asses here next weekend and explain. the others already know," riki said, hanging up before either of you could respond.

there was a silence between the both of you, yet it was so heavy with unspoken words, both of you knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

“we’re fucked,” you broke the silence, eyes still fixated on the phone in the middle of the table.

jay let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his chair. “my mom being nosy as always and riki’s big mouth didn’t help either.”

“should we tell them that we faked it to get your parents off your back? they’ll never leave us alone. plus, riki can't lie to your parents if his life depended on it. they'll catch on immediately,” you said, your frustration evident as you brought your fingers up to massage your temples.

“exactly,” jay muttered, staring at the floor.

you rubbed your temples harder, feeling a headache coming on. “so, now what? we’re screwed either way.”

jay hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “what if… we just go along with it for now? let them think we’re dating.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “you’re kidding, right? we can’t keep up this act with our friends.”

“no, hear me out,” jay said quickly, leaning forward. “if we pretend for a while, they’ll lose interest eventually. it’ll be easier to ‘break up’ later when it’s not fresh gossip. less drama that way, no?”

“fake dating in front of our friends?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “jay, this is a terrible idea.”

“yeah, but what’s our other option? tell them the truth and get mocked for the next five years? and having to explain the lie to my parents?” he asked, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow. “at least this way, we have control over the story.”

you bit your lip, considering his words. “and then we just… ‘break up’ when it feels right?”

jay nodded. “yeah. we’ll keep it simple, no big gestures or anything. and whenever the time comes, we ‘end it’.”

“and go back to casually hanging out with them how?” you questioned.

jay stayed silent for a while, but only shrugged when he couldn’t find an answer. “i don’t know, we’ll figure that out when it’s time.”

you exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “fine,” you said reluctantly. “but this better not get any weirder than it already is.”

“deal,” jay said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “we’ve got this.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the next few days after riki’s call were filled with tension. you and jay had barely discussed the fake dating plan beyond a few vague strategies, but as the weekend loomed, the reality of keeping up appearances with your friends started to weigh on both of you. that afternoon, you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, adjusting your shirt nervously while jay lingered near the door, arms crossed and expression thoughtful.

“are we really going through with this?” you asked, glancing over at him. there was a hint of hesitation in your voice, the weight of pretending gnawing at you.

jay met your gaze, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile, though his own unease was clear. “it’ll be fine,” he said softly. “we’ll just play it cool. stick to the plan, that’s it.”

you let out a deep breath, nodding slowly. “yeah…”

he chuckled lightly, moving closer to offer a comforting squeeze to your shoulder. “we’ve got this. it’ll be over before we know it.” with one last shared look of uncertainty, you both headed out the door, ready to sell the lie.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the familiar neighborhood, you found your friends sitting in a booth at your favorite diner. the place was bustling, the air filled with laughter and the smell of food. it felt nostalgic, like slipping on an old sweater you hadn’t worn in ages.

the six guys were already teasing each other, their easy banter filling the space as they welcomed you and jay.

“look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!” heeseung exclaimed, a playful grin stretching across his face. “and look at you two, all cozy and couple-y. what’s up with that?”

you shot a glance at jay, who merely smirked, intertwining his fingers with yours under the table.

“just uh... making it official,” he replied.

“official? since when?” sunoo chimed in, raising an eyebrow as if riki hadn’t told them the entire story already. “you guys just moved in together, and now you’re dating? what’s the story?”

“oh, come on. it’s not that complicated,” jay said, casually shrugging his shoulders. “we decided it was time to take things to the next level. right, babe?”

your heart dropped slightly at the nickname, and although you tried to play it cool, you couldn’t hide your smile as you squeezed his hand back. “sure, let’s go with that,” you replied.

“i knew it! this was all just part of the plan to share rent, wasn’t it?” sunghoon asked, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “just to save on bills?”

jungwon laughed. “moving in and immediately jumping into a relationship, what a move."

“that’s not all he jumped into,” jake quipped, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “so, you broke the promise you made to her about no funny business?”

“hey! that’s not what happened!” jay shot back, a mix of amusement and embarrassment creeping into his tone. “we just figured it made more sense to have someone to... keep me grounded, you know?”

“sure, sure. whatever helps you sleep at night,” riki teased, a playful smirk plastered on his face. “but seriously, how did this whole thing start? was it an ‘oops, i guess we’re dating now’ moment?”

you couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the easy-going atmosphere easing the tension from earlier. “more like a ‘you got caught making googly eyes at each other’ moment,” heeseung chimed in, and you felt your cheeks flush.

“okay, okay, back off! enough,” you defended playfully, and jay chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying the light-hearted teasing.

but then, as the conversation flowed, sunoo leaned forward, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “so, y/n… i thought you were seeing that other guy. you know, the one before jay? what happened with him?”

you felt a shift in the air, the teasing laughter fading slightly. you caught jay tensing beside you, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. “oh, uh, he was… nice?” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual, but your heart raced as you sensed the subtle change in jay's mood.

“nice? that’s it? what happened?” jungwon pressed, his curiosity piqued.

“just… didn’t work out,” you said quickly, wanting to avoid any deeper conversation. he hadn’t been nice exactly. but luckily it had taken you only three dates to understand his intentions weren’t exactly good, and you could cut him off before things started to get more complicated.

“probably because she was just waiting for me to swoop in,” jay added, his voice light, but you noticed the edge to it. the banter continued, but you could feel the tension hanging in the air, especially from jay.

once you were both in the car heading back home, the mood was quieter, more contemplative than on your way there. jay’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel, and a silence settled between you.

“what’s wrong?” you finally asked, glancing at him.

“nothing,” he replied, a bit too quickly.

“jay, you were tense when they brought him up,” you pointed out gently.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, a habit of his when he was stressed. “just had to act jealous, that’s all,” he said, his voice lacking the usual ease.

“then why are you still tense?” you pressed, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

he glanced at you just for the blink of an eye before he focused back on the road. “i’m still your best friend, y/n. it’s just… i don’t like that some guy didn’t treat you right,” he explained, his tone steady but slightly strained. you had told him about it. after all, he had been the one to pick you up from the disastrous third date before things could get any worse.

you both fell into silence again, but this time it felt different – like there was an invisible thread binding you both just a little closer.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weeks went by, the line between pretending and reality started to blur. each time you met jay’s parents, you found yourselves slipping effortlessly into the roles of a couple. laughter accompanied every shared meal, and you could almost forget that this was all an act – until you caught jay’s mother gazing at you with such warmth that it made your heart ache.

it was the same when you hung out with your friends; you’d find yourself nestled against jay on the couch, feigning casual intimacy, but the warmth of his body next to yours sent actual butterflies racing in your stomach.

video calls with them were no different. the moments where you’d curl into him, your head resting on his shoulder while your friends still joked about you, felt increasingly real. you both pretended not to notice the way your cheeks flushed when he’d casually drape an arm around you or whisper something sweet in your ear.

jay often replayed moments in his head – like the way you lit up when he surprised you with yet another coffee (although the two months deal had long passed) or how your laughter could fill the room and make his chest feel lighter. these were the times when it was hard for him to remember that you weren’t really together. there was an undeniable chemistry, something that felt so natural, yet he couldn't shake the underlying sadness that came with it. pretending to be a couple seemed to slowly but surely blur the lines of your friendship, and he found himself wrestling with the fear of losing you entirely.

at times, when you’d catch him looking at you, a shy smile would spread across your face, and for a brief moment, he would allow himself to entertain the thought that maybe this wasn’t just an act. that maybe, you felt the same warmth he did. but as quickly as that thought came, he would shake it off.

still, whenever you both met his parents, he felt an ache in his chest when he saw the way they treated you – like you were already part of the family. it was a bittersweet reminder of how perfect everything could be if you weren’t pretending. he couldn’t help but picture what it would be like if you really were together, how natural and easy it would feel to call you his girlfriend in front of his parents, to wrap his arms around you without feeling like he was crossing a boundary.

after hanging up from yet another video call with riki, a comfortable silence enveloped you both as you lay in your bed, your head resting on jay's chest. the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat was soothing, and you savored the warmth that came from being so close.

as you stared at the ceiling, your phone lit up beside you, a notification interrupting the moment. glancing over, you noticed a message from nicholas. he was a classmate, no one significant. a friend, yet not too close. someone to talk to when you felt the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“who’s nicholas?” jay asked, his voice breaking the silence. you could sense a slight tension in his tone, even though he tried to keep it light.

“just a guy from college,” you replied casually, but there was something in the way he said the name that made you feel a twinge of guilt.

“are you... are you guys close?” he pressed, turning slightly to glance at your phone. his stomach twisted uncomfortably, but he tried to mask it, keeping his expression neutral.

“not really. we just text sometimes,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

“just texting?” he echoed, a hint of skepticism in his voice. you could tell he wanted to know more, but you didn’t want to open that door.

“it’s just distraction, okay?” you finally admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“distraction from what?” he asked, confusion knitting his brows together. the unease in his chest only grew as he studied your face, searching for answers.

you hesitated, your heart racing at the prospect of being vulnerable. “it’s nothing,” you replied.

“c’mon, y/n. you can’t just say that,” he urged, propping himself up on one elbow to face you more directly. “what do you need distraction from?”

the question hung in the air. it felt terrible – knowing jay was always the first person you came to when you needed to talk, and not being able to do so this time.

you felt tears welling up in your eyes, and a lump formed in your throat. “i… i don’t want to talk about it,” you managed to whisper, fighting the emotion that threatened to spill over.

“y/n, please,” he said gently, concern etched across his features. “just tell me what’s going on.”

the tears finally began to fall, and knowing you could never really hide from jay, you couldn’t hold back any longer. “i want distraction from you, okay?” you blurted out, your voice breaking.

his heart dropped at your admission, and for a moment, he felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. “from me? why? what did i do wrong?” the vulnerability in his voice surprised even him, and he hated how desperate he sounded.

the sight of your tears broke him a little, and he felt a mixture of anger and fear. he wanted to pull you close and wipe away your tears, but he felt paralyzed by your words. “you’re hurting, and i don’t want to be the reason for that,” he said, his voice so gentle, as if he was scared his words would break you otherwise.

“you’re not the reason,” you said softly, but the cracks in your voice betrayed you. “it’s just… everything feels too intense. i can’t pretend anymore, jay. i want to stop this whole fake-dating thing.”

panic surged through him. stop? his mind raced, but he forced himself to remain composed. “why? what do you mean?” he asked, his voice steady, though he felt like he was on shaky ground.

you took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “because i feel more than i should, and it’s scary. i need to get myself together.”

the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. “more than you should?” he repeated, a mix of fear and hope igniting in his chest. “y/n, are you saying you have feelings for me?”

you looked away, tears rolling down your cheeks as you nodded reluctantly. “but i’ll get myself together, i… i just need space.”

jay’s heart sank further, torn between the relief of knowing your feelings mirrored his own and the dread of losing you. he took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. “i don’t want to lose you, y/n. please don’t do this.”

you shook your head. “you won’t lose me. but you have to understand,” you said, your voice trembling. “if we stop now, i can get a grip on everything. i promise i’ll figure myself out. just... just give me that space.”

he felt a rush of emotions – fear, sadness, longing – but as he looked into your tear-filled eyes, he knew he had to be honest. “i feel the same.”

your eyes widened slightly, surprise mixing with your heartache, as you opened your mouth to reply, but he beat you to it.

“and that’s why i don’t want to stop. i can’t just let go.” he hesitated a little, almost as if searching for the right words, before taking a shaky breath and continuing, “or... what if we stopped pretending, but instead made it real?”

your brow furrowed in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“let’s take things slow. we can still be together, but we don’t have to rush into anything. we can experience it step by step.”

you hesitated, the thought both exciting and terrifying. “but what about our friendship? what if it ruins everything?”

“i’m still your best friend, y/n. i'll always be,” he reassured you, his gaze steady and sincere. “if we both have feelings for each other, why should we suffer and pretend we don't?”

his words settled in the air, and you felt a warmth spreading through you, despite the tears still glistening in your eyes. “you really think we can handle it?” you asked, a flicker of hope igniting within you.

“i know we can,” he replied, his voice softening.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

a week later, you found yourself back at the familiar table at the diner, enveloped by its nostalgic aroma and your friends' chaotic energy.

“what’s going on with you two today?” sunoo asked curiously, popping a fry into his mouth, “you both look happier than usual. any good news to share?”

“yeah, it’s almost sickening how cute you are,” riki chimed in, pretending to gag dramatically.

“no, seriously, what’s up with you guys?” jake dug deeper, a playful smirk on his lips.

you rolled your eyes before turning to jay, sharing a knowing glance.

“guys, let them be,” jungwon defended. “why don’t we all focus a little more on our own lives, hm?” he exchanged a quick smile with you and jay, and soon everyone returned to their usual conversations.

jay leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing against your ear, before he whispered, “it might be worth ruining the friendship, don’t you think?”

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

join my taglist here | masterlist

🩶 taglist: @getoxo @ikeulove @nujeskz @bluesoobinnie @ikeuverse

[withwritersblock]

Everywhere, Everything

~Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan~ Author's Note: this idea has been circulating my mind for weeks, so here you go fam. blah blah blah words italtics are flashbacks Summary: long distance, it's hard lol Warnings: angst, swearing Word Count: 5,221 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

It was usual for her on Friday nights, if Luke was in town, for her to go to his house and spend the weekend with him. That was the plan, she had her duffle bag full to the brim of all of her clothing options and her school work necessities. She walked up the steps to see Ethan and Dylan were sitting on the porch drinking some beers.

“Have you talked to Hughesy yet?” Dylan asked, stopping Y/N in her tracks to spin around to meet his gaze. She shook her head slowly. He nodded while pressing his lips together, “You should-” he trailed off as he brought his drink to his lips again.

She stood still for a few seconds, her duffle bag feeling heavier by the second. Her gaze shifted between the pair of the boys, what were they implying? She took a deep breath as she entered the house. It was empty, but it was usually like that for Friday night. She walked down the hall towards Luke’s room and knocked before she pushed her way inside.

He was throwing random things into a bag when he lifted his gaze, he smiled so wide. “Baby,” he mumbled, dropping the pair of socks he had in his hand into the back. He engulfed her in a hug, savoring the moment. “They called,” he whispered into her ear. 

She felt her chest tighten as she felt her eyes tear up. She pulled away to meet his gaze. His cheeks flushed red as his smile was still wide and bright. His eyes scanned her features. 

“I’m so proud of you, my love,” she whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. He pressed his lips together shyly as he pulled away from her grasp, back towards the bag on the bed. She delicately placed hers on the floor. Clearing her throat, she questioned, “When do you leave?”

“Sunday morning, my flight is at like four in the morning.” he let out while shaking his head, he lifted his gaze towards her. She was nodding slowly, staring at the floor. “I only found out like two hours ago, I wanted to tell you in person,” he mumbled as he took steps towards her once more. 

He took a hold of her arms, scanning her teary features. “We’ll make it work, I will promise you that,” he said, tilting his head to try and maintain eye contact with her. 

She clenched her jaw as she smiled softly. “We’ll have the summer to worry about that,” she whispered as she rested her hand onto his chest. “Let’s just celebrate,” she mumbled.

“Celebrate?” he asked, raising his eyebrows fighting the smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully as she shoved him backwards slightly. 

“I meant dinner,” she teased before she took a hold of his hand, guiding him out of his room. “And then maybe some of that,” she spun around to meet his gaze, smirking.

“Aw, you’re taking me out to dinner, how sweet,” he teased. She gasped playfully.

“No sir, you’re paying with that big ‘ol NHL contract you’re about to get,” 

~~~

It was Luke’s last morning in Michigan before he was supposed to head to New Jersey for the rest of the season. They were laying in her bed, in her apartment, in silence. Her head rested on his chest as he kept his gaze towards the ceiling. His hand trailed delicately up and down her bare back.

“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

It was only a four word question but it held so much value. The entire summer they went back and forth on what would be best. Long distance or breaking up. They’ve been together for almost two years. Two years they didn’t want to throw down the drain because he was moving and living his dream.

But long distance is hard, harder than anyone could suspect when getting involved in a relationship. 

“Yeah,” she let out barely above a whisper as she absentmindedly ran her fingers up and down his chest. “We’re going to be okay,” she mumbled as she lifted her head to meet his eye.

He had a soft smile on his lips as his hand glided up her back, running his fingers through the ends of her hair. “Any time there’s a free weekend and I’m back in Jersey, you tell me and I’ll book your flight. No hesistation,” he mumbled. She nodded.  She leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his delicately. It was soft and intimate.

“Baby,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled away, her breathing faster than before. She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. “I-” he started before he took a hold of the back of her neck softly as he pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently. 

Her finger tips grazed his skin, as she delicately took a hold of his chin. “I have to get ready to leave,” he said, pulling away. She kept her eyes shut, before she pecked his lips for a few seconds. She leaned her body away from him, letting him slip away from her. 

She fell onto her back, watching him get dressed before he wandered towards the bathroom. Her eyes shifted towards the ceiling fan, she watched it spin as she felt her eyes tear up. He reappeared after a few seconds, he wandered towards the hat sitting on the end table. He reached towards it.

“Wait,” she mumbled. He met her teary gaze, clenching his jaw. It was a Michigan beanie. It was one of her favorites that he wore. He wore it for the majority of the season last year, swore it was lucky. “Can you leave it?” she let out barely above a whisper. He glanced towards it and back towards her and nodded quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered leaning towards her, kissing her forehead, “I’ll dig into my bag to find a different one,” he smiled softly towards her before he wandered towards the living room. 

She stood up from the bed and began to get dressed in a hoodie and a pair of comfy shorts. He didn’t want her to travel to the airport with him, he was having Dylan drive him. She walked into the living room to see him adjusting the beanie on his head in her circle mirror. She smiled towards him, her heart beating loud and dramatically in her ear. 

He tilted his head to the side as he met her gaze, he felt tears fill his eyes. Suddenly aware of what this means. Her lips fell into a pout as she stepped towards him, he quickly engulfed her in a hug. He took a hold of the back of her head, holding her as close as he possibly could. His watch buzzed, he glanced down to see a text from Dylan.

“Duker’s here,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips to her forehead. She pulled her head away from his chest, scanning his features. He took a hold of her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs against her skin. “I love you,” he mumbled, looking deeply into her eyes. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently; knowing it’s the last time for months.

He reluctantly pulled away from her, pressing his lips together. He wiped his hand across his eyes, drying the tears. Majority of his stuff was in Jersey already, so he only had his suitcase he packed for the last two weeks in Michigan. He took a hold of it, turning around to look at Y/N. 

She shook her head, “You have to go now,” she mumbled, spinning around to not look at him. He stayed still, “I can’t watch you leave, you-you have to just go,” she said through a sob. He felt his heart shatter, he was going to miss her so much. 

“I love you,” he let out, walking towards the door. He dragged his suitcase behind him, “I’ll call you when I get to Jack’s, show you the apartment,” he explained as he walked towards the door, opening.

“Okay,” she let out.

He looked towards her, taking in a shaky breath before he forced himself out the door. The apartment door shut behind him. He continued down the hallway, letting himself cry. He wasn’t a crier. He rarely cried about anything but right now that’s all he could do. 

It didn’t take long for him to get down and out of the building. Dylan was sitting in his car right in front of the apartment building. Luke opened the trunk of the car and dropped his suitcase inside. He slammed it shut before he walked towards the passenger seat. He fell down into the seat and wiped his eyes once more. 

“Hey man,” Dylan let out as he began driving away from the apartment. 

“Hey, sorry I’m being a-” he trailed off as he shook his head, he wiped his eyes once more while taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t apologize, she’ll be alright. We’ll look out for her. You’ll be alright, you got your brother, and the NHL,” Dylan expressed as he slapped his hand against Luke’s shoulder. Luke nodded as he kept his jaw clenched. 

“Harder than I thought,” he mumbled as he ran his hand across his chin.

Back in Y/N’s apartment, she was sitting on her couch as she watched Friends. Her apartment door was pushed open to reveal her roommate and best friend, Penelope. She dropped her purse onto the counter and quickly moved towards Y/N on the couch. 

Y/N lifted her head to meet Penelope’s gaze. Y/N had been crying, the entire time since Luke left fifteen minutes ago. “I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t watch him walk away,” she mumbled. Penelope pulled her towards her side, comforting her the best she could. 

“But you guys are still together?” she questioned.

“Yeah but I won’t see him for months, I’m not strong enough for this,” Y/N cried out. 

“Yes, yes you are, you two are meant to be,” Penelope mumbled as she stroked Y/N’s hair. “It’s just for a year and a half right? You took summer courses this summer, got ahead. It’ll be okay, you guys will get through it,” 

~Oct. 12~

She was sitting in front of her vanity, finishing her makeup for her evening out on the town. Penelope, the UMich hockey team, their partners, and herself were all going to one of the local sports bars. Tonight was the opening game of the regular season for the Devils and the Red Wings. 

So they wanted to go watch and support Luke.

It was three hours until game time and Luke was starting to FaceTime her. She perked up excitedly as she set up her phone against the mirror as she accepted the call. He was getting ready in the bathroom, he was shirtless with his hair dripping wet still. Her eyes widened at the sight, he chuckled as he saw the shocked look on her features. 

“Hey, love,” she mumbled as she smiled widely. 

“Where are you going looking all pretty?” he asked as he leaned down towards the camera, trying to get a better look. She smiled shyly as she dropped her gaze towards the mascara in her makeup bag. The second to last step in her routine. 

“A whole bunch of us are going to Scorekeepers to watch your game,” she said excitedly as she began untwisting her mascara to apply it to her eyes. 

“Wait really?” he asked, his cheeks flushed red instantly.

“Yeah, the team is going to be there, they’re bringing their girlfriends and Penelope is coming with me too,” she explained as she began applying her mascara.

He ran a towel over his hair harshly, specifically at that moment so she wouldn’t tell him to stop. “That’s great, I hope you have fun,” he mumbled as he dropped the towel to the floor, he took a hold of some of his hair products as he began to style his damp hair.

“We will, are you nervous?” she questioned dropping the tube into her bag before she reached for her highlighter. She watched him shake his head. “That’s good,” she muttered. 

“My game day looks are going to be rough without you doing my hair for me,” he expressed, a chuckle leaving his throat as he looked towards his phone screen to meet her gaze.

She smiled widely while letting out a giggle, “It looks cute,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he scanned her features through the phone screen, his chest aching. 

“Can you visit this weekend? I’ve got a game tomorrow but then I just have practices Saturday and Sunday,” he asked, his body erupting in tingles as his breath caught in his throat. 

Her smile faltered slightly, “I’ve got to work this weekend, my love, I need the money.”

He nodded as he clenched his jaw. “Okay, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “We’ll plan for another weekend. We’ll figure it out,” he said, forcing a smile onto his lips. She pouted her lip as she tilted her head back blinking rapidly, “It’s okay, baby, we’ll find a weekend,” he reassured. She nodded. 

It was several hours later and it was halfway through the first period. She sighed as yet another man walked up beside her and began flirting with her. “Let me buy you a drink,” he muttered, raising his hand up to try and get the bartender's attention. He failed.

“No, I’m okay, thank you though,” she muttered as she met his kind gaze. 

“Okay, no problem. I’m Dean,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to her. Y/N scanned his frame, ashamed of the butterflies circluating her stomach. She shook his head.

“Y/N, but I should tell you I have a boyfriend,” she explained, smiling. His smirk fell from his lips for only a moment before he smiled again.

“Cool, is he here with you?” he asked, glancing around the bar for some sign of said boyfriend. His gaze lands on an angry looking Dylan in the corner of the bar. 

“He’s not, no,” she mumbled, bringing the glass of water towards her lips. She took a sip while maintaining eye contact. “We’re long distance,” she explained. He nodded, leaning his body against the bartop. 

“Where does he live?” Dean pressed on, it wasn’t to try and make a move on her. It was more curiosity than anything. 

“Jersey,” she said, glancing back towards the screen to see the power play on the ice. Luke on the ice. Her eyes admired the forty-three on the ice before she looked back towards Dean. 

“Wait,” Dean said, glancing at the TV and then back down towards her. “Is your boyfriend Luke Hughes?” he questioned. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly, as she slowly nodded. “He’s one lucky guy,” he said, scanning her frame once more, biting his bottom lip in the process. He didn’t say anything else before he wandered away from her. 

She found herself smiling, she forced the smile off of her lips as she switched her gaze to the TV screen just as Jack scored. The UMich team erupted in cheers, while everyone else in the bar groaned. 

Dylan stepped in front of her, a scowl on his lips. “What are you doing?” he questioned harshly.

She clenched her jaw as she met Dylan’s gaze, “What?” she asked quietly. 

“What was that? You have a boyfriend, you know,” he accused. Her mouth fell open as she let out a huff of air. 

She clenched her jaw as she felt her skin get hot and her eyes filled with tears. “Luke’s been gone for almost two months,” she began, she paused as she took a shaky breath, “We talk once a day and it’s only to update each other about our lives. I miss my boyfriend and I’m sorry but I miss the attention,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. 

Dylan tilted his head to the side, a sad smile on his lips.

“I miss getting kissed,” she started, a tear falling onto her cheek, “I miss talking about anything other than hockey. I miss being held. I miss being flirted with. I miss my boyfriend. But I can’t see him because I have to work my stupid minimum wage job every weekend because I can’t afford to not work! So excuse me, if I want to enjoy the attention of an unfortunately cute boy!”

“Y/N,” he mumbled.

“I don’t need this,” she mumbled, meeting Dylan’s gaze, “I’m going to watch the rest of the game at home,” she said standing up from her barstool. 

“Y/N don’t, come on, I’m sorry. He’s my best friend-I was just-” he ranted on but she walked away, out of the bar towards her car. 

The game finished with a win and Luke finally looked at his phone once he stepped inside the apartment with Jack behind him. There was one text from Y/N and about fifteen texts from Dylan. 

Duker: Dude! Awesome win

Duker: You played fucking great! Listen though, call me? I gotta tell you something

Duker: damn dude the game ended like an hour ago, call me?!

Duker: HELLO!? HUGHESY??

The messages continued on like that. He furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he pulled his phone to his ear as he called him. “Dukes, what's wrong?” Luke asked, glancing toward Jack before he wandered into his bedroom. 

“Hey man, you played great, so proud and all that. Call your girlfriend more,” he began. Luke's face scrunched together at the sudden statement.

“What?” Luke let out.

“She’s miserable and you only calling her once a fucking day isn’t helping,” Dylan expressed.

“What are you talking about?” Luke questioned as he kicked his shoes off and shoved them towards the side table. 

“She’s lonely and misses you. She’s-you have no right to get pissed at her when I tell you this by the way,” he paused. Luke’s eyes widened as he slowly sat down on his bed, “She’s letting guys flirt with her at bars because you aren’t giving her any attention,” 

He clenched his jaw hard as his fist tightened as he slammed his fist against the mattress. He licked his lips as he tilted his head back. Shutting his eyes he let out a long drawn out breath. 

“She could call me too,” he let out, “If-if she’s-”

“Come on, man, she doesn’t want to be an inconvience to you. You’re living a life none of us understand,” he let out. 

Luke tilted his head back, feeling his eyes fill with tears, “I can’t hear her voice more than once a day because I miss her so fucking much I can’t think about anything else,” 

“Tell her that Hughesy, come on,” Dylan said, a huff of air leaving his lips. “Call her,” Dylan demanded before he hung up the phone. Luke slowly dropped his phone from his ear as he pulled up her contact.

He stared at the profile photo, it was a photo of them after their one year anniversary. He was kissing her cheek as she was smiling widely. He pressed the call button as he pulled it towards his ear, he laid down on his back. He stared towards the ceiling. She answered on the second ring. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, her voice cracking, “Great job tonight, my love,”

He shut his eyes, feeling like a weight collapsed on his chest. “Thank you, beautiful,” he let out, his voice scratchy. It was silent for a few seconds, “I fucking miss you,” he let out, a sob climbing in his throat. 

“This is harder than we thought, huh?” she let out, clearly crying. He swallowed hard as he pressed his lips together.

“Request off the weekend before Halloween, please,” he begged, “I need to see you,” he continued. She swallowed hard as she hummed. 

After a couple minutes, the conversation wasn’t filled with sadness as they chatted about the game. “It’s going to take a while to get used to,” he let out, a chuckle leaving his throat. She hummed breathily. 

He was laying in bed, staring towards the ceiling, biting his bottom lip as he began to remember the last morning of them together. The feeling of her lips on his skin, her breathy moans in his ear. He craved her, he needed her yet she was so far away. 

“Hey,” he let out barely above a whisper, tilting his head back. 

“Yeah?” she let out, a smile forming to her lips. 

“You alone?” he asked. She let out a soft giggle.

~Feb~

The broadcast team announced that Luke would not be returning to the game due to a lower body injury. She was pacing back and forth, Penelope trying to calm her down. It was no use. It was probably precautionary because got off the ice on his own accord but right now all she can think about is that he was out for the remainder of the season. He was going to be in a bad mood all of the time now. 

It was his rookie year, she understood that he was stressed, allowing him to have those days. He needed those days to fully process everything he was going through. The game was slowly coming to an end, a loss for the Devils. It seemed like that was becoming more and more common this season. 

“He’s probably fine,” Penelope offered again, her jaw clenched hard as she spoke. Remaining on the couch, she continued to watch Y/N pace back and forth.

“Please don’t-” she mumbled before her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, it was Luke. She pulled the phone to her ear, “Baby?” she questioned as she wandered towards her bedroom, away from Penelope. 

“Hey, my love, I’m alright.” he began, he took in a sharp breath, “It looked worse than it is,” he explained. He sounded out of breath but he was probably walking back towards his car. He had driven seperate from Jack. 

“Are you sure? You’re walking okay?” she questioned as she ran her hand across her mouth. 

He hummed, “They gave me the option if I wanted to go back but I’d rather take the rest of the period off and rest for the next roadie,” he explained. She tilted her head back, letting out a long drawn out breath, “I promise I’m all good, We’ll watch a movie later, okay?” 

They were starting to do that most nights, use Teleparty to watch movies together and just enjoy each other’s presence. It helps a lot with their relationship. They rarely talk but it helps them. 

“Yeah, yeah, miss your face,” she muttered as she let out a dry chuckle. 

A wide smile formed on his lips as he dropped in his driver seat of his car. He tilted his head back. “God, I miss you,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw. “When’s your spring break?” he asked as he connected his phone to bluetooth. He buckled his seatbelt.

“March seventeeth to March twenty-fourth,” she mumbled, a small smile on her lips.

While pulling out of his parking spot, “I’ll book your flight, you’re visiting,” he said with a smile as he waited at the red light. She giggled, it was like music to his ears. “And don’t pull the whole, I got to work because I’ll send you your paycheck to make up for it,” he said with a small chuckle. 

“Luke, don’t even think about it,” she said while laughing, she collapsed down onto her bed, staring towards the ceiling. “But that was the plan, of course,” she expressed. 

“Good because the second I get home, I’m booking you a first class flight,” he explained as he continued driving, the smile on his lips never wavering. 

“Okay, my love, call me when you get back home,” she mumbled as she kept her gaze on the ceiling fan. 

“I will, find a movie for us,” he let out as he hung up the phone.

After another thirty minutes, Luke was sprailed out on his bed, shirtless as he propped up his laptop beside him. His hair was wet across his forehead as he took a cold shower once he got home. 

He heard a knock on his door as Jack pushed open the door, “Hey man how’s that-oh,” he let out as he stared towards Luke’s appearance and his laptop, “Am I interrupting anything,” he trailed off. Luke chuckled nervously, squinting his eyes slightly. His cheeks flushed red.

“No, she’s not even on FaceTime yet,” Luke mumbled, chuckling. He rolled onto his back to meet Jack’s gaze. Jack nodded slowly, a smirk forming on his lips. “What do you want?” Luke asked with a smirk on his lips.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, still smirking. Luke nodded.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit in three weeks for the whole week,” he sing songed, Jack’s mouth fell open as he smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder.

“That’s great! You need to see her,” Jack mumbled, “How’s that knee?” he crossed his arms over his chest again. Luke shrugged as Y/N began calling him.

“Hurts, but it’s just a strain, it’ll be fine,” he said. He brought his finger to his lips as he answered the phone. He didn’t need her to know that it was a bit worse than he told her. Jack shook his head as he walked out of the room, shutting the door. 

~April 3rd, 2024~

It was the most anticipated game in the hockey world for a few days now. It was late in the third and the Devils were down by a goal. Luke had practically played the entire game, over thirty minutes in ice time. He was exhausted. He was frustrated. All she wanted to do was to give him a hug and cuddle him. 

Luke skates with the puck, sluggish and tired. He was pushing through it the best he could. She covered her mouth with her hands as he wrists a shot towards the net, the game ended a few seconds later. He skates towards the bench with the rest of his teammates behind him. 

Penelope wasn’t there to watch the game with her tonight, which was probably for the best. She had a feeling it would be a while till he called her. She shot up from her couch and began to walk towards her bathroom. 

She walked through the airport, searching for Luke. He was standing beside a girl, forcing a smile on his lips as they took a photo. She thanked him quickly before she quickly walked away from him. Luke dropped his head, laughing nervously.

Y/N continued manuvering through the crowd of people. His eyes widened once he spotted her. It only took a few more steps before she let go of her suitcase and jumped into his arms. 

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as her cheeks pressed against his cheek. He wrapped his arms around the center of her back. Her eyes shut tightly as she felt her chest tighten. 

“I love you,” she mumbled as ran her fingers through the ends of his hair. It was longer than the last time she saw it. 

“I get you the whole week, how lucky am I?” he muttered into her ear as she slowly slipped down his body. Her hands glided from the back of his neck, towards his cheeks. She rested her hands on his cheek as she scanned his flushed features. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently, not afraid of any wandering eyes or cameras that could catch the moment.

He needed her to be as close as possible. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her body towards him, “Come on, Baby girl, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves for a couple hours,” he whispered against her lips.

She finished showering, putting on a tanktop and a pair of shorts as she began to clean up her bedroom. She was wandering around her room, picking up random ideas to organize the place. 

After a few minutes, she received a FaceTime call from Luke. She quickly sat down on her bed, answering the call instantly. She brushed a wet piece of hair away from her face as she stared towards Luke. He was showered as well, laying on his bed. His head was tilted back against the headrest. 

His eyes were evidently scanning her face on his screen. He clenched his jaw as he took in a sharp breath. He shut his eyes hard as he began tearing up. 

“I’m so tired,” he let out, his voice cracking as he spoke. Her lips fell into a pout as she scooted back against the bed. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he let out barely above a whisper. He opened his eyes, as a tear fell onto his cheek.

“Hey, hey, what do you mean?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.

“I can’t handle the pressure, it’s too much,” he let out, another tear falling onto his cheek. 

“Baby, it was a tough game-”

“It wasn’t just the game though, Can’t open Twitter without seeing everyone hate on me. I can’t do this,” he let out while shaking his head. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she tilted her head to the side. “Luke, it’s just a bad stretch of games. It’s not just on you, you need to take some weight off your shoulders,” she tried to help him. 

“I can’t do that, I can’t do anything right,” he said, crying, tilting her head to the side as she met his gaze through the phone screen. “I miss you, I just wish you were in Jersey with me. I can’t handle another year of this,” he groaned out.

“I miss you too, my love. Luke, you are stronger than you think. I love you so much, you will get past this, you will find a way out. You are going to be just fine. The season is almost done, you’ll get a lot of rest. And you’ll see me for months straight to the point you’ll get tired of me,” she said with a sad smile forming on her lips. His lips curled upward slightly, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 

“Not possible, I could never get tired of you,” he said, happy to hear those words, “What if,” he paused as his eyebrows furrowed harshly in thought, “What if I stayed with you for a few days after the season is done?” he asked. Her eyes lit up excitedly.

“What if you stayed until the semester ends?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“Would Penelope be okay with that?” he asked.

“Baby, I think she would rather you be here all the time than hear me cry about missing you another minute,” she said with a wide smile, “And I’m sure the boys would love to see you,” she expressed. 

“Then it’s a plan,” he said with a smile, his tears no longer falling. “I love you so much,”

[junrenjun]

Dissonance

svt ot13 x beta!reader (omega!woozi focus)

genre: angst

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fem reader, woozi does not like reader lol, arguments, jealousy, a/b/o dynamics, swearing

summary: jihoon doesn't want y/n in the pack.

a/n: i am back in the writing groove with (finally) another understand update :)

Jihoon doesn’t understand why everyone likes you so much. To him, you’re just some random beta girl he doesn’t really know. Why Seungcheol and Wonwoo even thought it was a good idea to potentially make you part of the pack is beyond his brain’s comprehension. 

The omega can’t fathom what it would be like to have you integrated into the pack. The thought of your scent mingling into the rest of the house makes his nose itch. The thought of you being in the pack nest makes him restless. And the thought of you being anywhere near him in heat, his most vulnerable and emotional times, makes him so nauseous he might throw up right this second.

He just doesn’t understand how you would even fit in. The pack has been established for so long you would be missing so many pieces. You missed the years that it took them to finally get settled into the routine they have today. Now you’re going to be thrown into the equation and it just messes everything up. He knows that if he doesn’t agree with letting you in, the pack won’t do it. But, it has been long enough that attachments are starting to grow.

That’s why whenever someone brings you to the den, he shuts himself into their little home studio. And he doesn’t leave until your scent fades or Jeonghan asks him to come out for “proof of life.” Even if he doesn’t have any work to do, your voice is enough motivation to slam the door shut and shove his headphones on. Stupid fucking beta. 

One day, after ensuring it had been at least 15 minutes since you had left for the night, Jihoon finally ventured out into the main room. As usual, a good portion of the pack was there. Still chatty about whatever show they had been watching when you were here, he ignored them and steered himself to the kitchen. 

The room didn’t offer any reprieve though, because Mingyu was standing there peeling an orange and raising a brow at the omega’s entrance. “You could make it less obvious that you don’t like her, you know?”

Jihoon whipped his head toward the alpha at the sudden attack. “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mingyu scoffed at him. “Yeah because you totally don’t hide in your studio every time she comes over. She thinks you hate her. Maybe at least try to have a conversation with her?”

The omega pretended like he was mulling over the thought. He really wasn’t, but it seemed to appease the alpha. “I’ll think about it Gyu.”

Mingyu scoffed again. “Think about it? You’re going to think about talking to someone who’s here multiple times a week? You can’t hide from her forever Ji.”

Jihoon went to defend himself, but the alpha cut him off. “If she truly makes you that uncomfortable, then we’ll let her go. But I don’t want to do that if this is just you being too stubborn to try. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. She really does want to get to know you.”

He tries to ignore the pit in his stomach that Mingyu’s words cause. Instead of responding, he chooses to grab a protein bar and turn back to head to his room. His guilty conscience gets the better of him though, because he pauses for a beat in the doorway and calls out to the alpha, “I’ll sit with you guys at movie night next week.” He misses the smile that crosses Mingyu’s face. 

When he enters his bedroom, Minghao eyes him, but doesn’t say anything. At least he has the ability to keep to himself about this issue. Maybe because Minghao himself was nervous about Y/N’s integration into the pack too. Maybe it’s just because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Whatever it is, Jihoon is grateful for the silence. 

Once they settle into bed for the night though, Jihoon tosses and turns restlessly. You and the upcoming movie night are fresh in his mind. He shouldn’t have given in to Mingyu. Now he has to face you in front of the rest of the pack. The thoughts continue to keep him up, so he turns toward his roommate’s bed. “Minghao,” he whispers.

A small hum comes from the omega’s mouth, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Jihoon takes this as a cue to continue. “I agreed to sit with y/n and the rest of you guys at movie night next week.”

Now he really has Minghao’s attention. His eyes pop open and a questioning eyebrow shoots up. “Are you sure you want to? No one forced you right?”

Jihoon is appreciative of the omega putting his packmate’s feelings first. “No, no one forced me. But I’m scared. She’s basically a stranger.”

Minghao hums in response, closing his eyes tiredly. “Only a stranger to you, Ji. The rest of us know her now.” And with that, his roommate turns around his bed, a signal that the conversation is over and he should go to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come to him that night, nor the rest of the following week.

When Jihoon walks into the living room the next Friday, you’re tucked against Wonwoo’s side, chatting happily with Soonyoung, who sits at your feet. There is an apparent lack of scent emanating from you, evident that you’re wearing blockers. Two sticky patches on your neck peek out from under your sweater. 

Half of the pack has already gathered in the room, filling up most of the seating. He’s grateful for Jeonghan, who pulls Seungkwan into his lap, clearing up an empty space at the end of the couch furthest from you. He doesn’t hesitate to sit down.

Jeonghan leans over to whisper in his ear. “Thanks for coming tonight. She’s excited you wanted to join us for once.” Jihoon responds with a dismissive wave of his hand. The older omega frowns, but leaves him alone. 

Jun has taken control of the remote, scrolling through Netflix in search of something to watch. When he hovers over a movie to watch the preview, Minghao says something to him in Chinese and the two begin bickering. Chan is scrolling through his phone, legs tossed up over Mingyu’s lap, who runs his hand absentmindedly over the bare skin. Joshua and Seungcheol finally enter the room, a large bowl of popcorn in the alpha’s hands. It feels so normal, so domestic, that Jihoon can almost forget your presence. 

Almost. Your conversation with Soonyoung has been interrupted, the alpha having gotten up to join Joshua where he sits. Seungcheol takes his place at your feet. Seconds later, the pack alpha’s eyes are on him and yours follow suit not longer after. “Ah, hello Jihoon-ssi,” you call out softly. 

You don’t use honorifics with anyone else in the pack, so hearing the title attached to the end of his name makes his heart ache. He’s not quite sure why though. “Hello Y/N-ssi,” he says back, tensely. 

That’s all the conversation really amounts to. You send him a hint of a smile, before turning back to the man in front of you. He fixes his gaze back on the TV, hoping to once again forget you are there. Jun and Minghao seemed to have finally settled on a movie, the opening credits of some random rom-com rolling across the screen. 

Jihoon allows himself to get absorbed into the movie, tuning out the whispering of those that have yet to start watching. The movie is honestly pretty bad, but he’ll do anything to ignore the way you play with Seungcheol’s hair while Wonwoo’s arm is thrown over your shoulders. 

Maybe 15 minutes in, he can hear the whispering pick up again, but he elects to pretend it’s not happening. He’s caught off guard seconds later when your scent starts seeping into the room slowly. His head whips around and he catches Seungcheol carefully peeling off your blocker patches. 

Jihoon’s not sure what about this image has him reacting the way it does. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still a stranger to him. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re being somewhat intimate with his pack alpha. Maybe it’s the fact that the action means Seungcheol is seeking out your scent, instead of someone from his pack. Maybe it’s all of them combined, he’s not sure. 

Before he knows it, he’s standing up from his position on the couch and growling. It’s nothing close to an alpha’s growl. But it’s also not a normal, half-hearted, omega growl. It’s loud, it’s high-pitched, and it screams possessiveness. And it’s directed right towards you. 

You’re staring at him like a deer in headlights. Honestly, the rest of the pack is too. No one, himself included, was expecting that. 

“Jihoon!” Jeonghan scolds from next to him, reaching out to grab his hand. He yanks his arm out of the older omega’s grip before he can be pulled back down onto the couch. Wonwoo moves his body a little bit protectively in front of you and asks if you are alright. Jihoon bares his teeth at the thought.

You glance over to him once before responding. “Maybe I should head out,” you whisper. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” 

The pack responds in an uproar. Jihoon doesn’t care to listen to their protests. All he can hear is the ringing in his ears. “Leave,” he says, “you’re just a useless beta anyways.” He can vaguely hear the pack’s shouts and Seungcheol’s warning growl, but they’re angrily pushed to the back of his mind. 

It’s like the insult doesn’t even register in your brain. No tears cloud your eyes. Your lip doesn’t jut out. Your scent doesn’t even sour. You take a breath. “That’s fresh coming from someone who wishes he were one.”

It stings. He hates that you barely know him and yet you read him like a book. Uncovered his wounds from the deepest places in his mind just to throw them out on the table for everyone else to see. He hates you for it. 

Another growl leaves his mouth and before he knows it, he’s throwing himself at you. It’s to no avail though, because Wonwoo is shoving his body between you two and someone is tugging him away by the waist. He gives another growl at whoever decided to put their hands on him.

The sound is cut short when the hands move and one proceeds to wrap around the back of his neck. He’s being…scruffed? He glimpses out of the corner of his eye and spots his pack alpha. Seungcheol is scruffing him. He’s livid. Pissed even. But his stupid, cursed omega body goes limp at the touch. Fucking instincts. 

Seungcheol turns the omega’s body towards him and spits out, “You’ve done enough here. Go.” His body is shoved toward the hallway. The pack alpha doesn’t have to tell him twice. He turns promptly on his heel and stomps off to the studio.

His footsteps aren’t loud enough to drown everything out though, because he can hear Soonyoung faintly say, “hyung don’t you think that was a bit much?” He can also hear the sound of the front door closing, signaling that you had finally left the den. He doesn’t know why his heart aches at the thought. 

It’s at least an hour before anyone interrupts his little pity party in the studio. Surprisingly, it’s Jun who finally enters. He sets down a plate of dinner on the desk wordlessly, before dropping down onto the couch on the opposite wall. Jihoon spins in his chair to face him. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Jun sits there, picking at the rice on his own plate. “Not unless you want me to,” he says without looking up. 

Jihoon pushes his food around for a little bit in silence, before finally opting to eat. If he didn’t eat now, Jun would probably tell Jeonghan, who would force him to eat later. Anyways, he didn’t realize how hungry he truly was. The plate is clean within a few minutes.

He sets the plate down on his desk, and when he turns back around, Jun is offering the remnants of his own meal. It’s mainly white rice, unsurprisingly. When Jihoon starts eating again, Jun finally speaks. “Didn’t know you could growl like that.”

He chokes on his rice a little. He clears his throat and mumbles, “I didn’t either.”

The man across from him hums. “I was scared at first too, Ji,” he says, eyes softening. “It’s okay to feel what you are feeling.”

Jihoon is…confused. “I thought you liked her too hyung,” he asks curiously. 

“I do,” Jun responds, a faraway look in his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t terrified at the prospect of bringing someone new in. All we have known romantically, intimately, physically for the past few years is each other. The thought of getting to know another person like that is scary. We aren’t mad at you for feeling normal feelings. That wouldn’t be fair.” 

There’s a pause as he lets Jihoon take in his words, before continuing. “What isn’t fair though, is you taking it out on her. It’s scary for her too. We only have to get acquainted with one new person. She’s learning about all thirteen of us. That’s overwhelming.” 

Another pause. Longer, like he’s debating what to say. “I’m not asking you to love her. But I am asking you to give her a chance, because the Jihoon I know wouldn’t call someone useless after exchanging three words with them.” 

Jihoon is silent. Jun takes his lack of response as his cue to leave. He collects their empty plates wordlessly and heads toward the door. But before he can turn the handle, Jihoon stops him. “She’s right.” 

Jun whips his head around. “What?”

“She’s right,” he repeats. “About me wishing I was a beta. I think I’m…I…I don’t know,” he says, burying his face in his hands. “I think I’m jealous of her,” he finally says.

The alpha stares back at him with wide eyes. “Oh,” he says, tentatively. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I…” Jihoon starts, raising his head from his palms. “I think I’m jealous of the way she gets to interact with us without having these weird instincts. She doesn’t have to worry about us seeing her in her most vulnerable, helpless state, because she doesn’t go through heats or ruts. She doesn’t have to worry about keeping her pheromones at bay when your body all of a sudden decides it’s horny or it’s angry or it’s stressed. She doesn’t have to worry about the innate desire to submit or to dominate. All that stupid biology stuff that shouldn’t even matter anymore. She doesn’t have to deal with that because she’s a beta and I wish I could be like that.”

Jun simply raises an eyebrow at him. “I think your idea of a beta is a little off from what she actually experiences, Ji. She feels all that stuff too, it’s just a little different…maybe not as intense. You would know if you would actually hear her out,” his words are firm, but his tone is soft. 

Jihoon looks down at the floor. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

“Alright,” the alpha finally says after a beat. “You’re going to give her a chance then?”

“Yeah. I’ll give her a chance.”

[cryptidghostgirl]

Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Description: It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

Warnings: Look, I'm writing and it's not for a request. Angst. It's always angst. I just love Alastor's inhumanity, what can I say? This bitch is in denial. Also, bodies, blood, death, no gore but like, eh. Also Adam is in this one and he's his own warning. Loose Mistki quoting at one part. Also a loose Sappho quote “pale as grass” and self harm.

Word Count: 2,420

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask.

A/N My classics major side came out a little bit in this one lol. Also I have a big classics major side fic in the wings so if you guys like this, just wait. Also Sir Pentious is from the 1800s so he for sure had a classical education. Also the title came from an article I was reading about the history of witchcraft for one of my classes.

The most complex and yet the most simple of the human emotions. Feared by some, wielded by others, out of reach for many, perennial for more still, and taken as easily as a breath of air by a solemn few. What a strange thing, love.

It was this last category that bewitched Alastor. Even when he had been alive, he had never understood the people like that, the ones who took heartbreak in stride, the ones who shared any love they had the minute they felt it with everyone and everything. The ones who weren't paralyzed by potential loss or violent embarrassment.

The people who feared love made sense. It had a vast capacity for harm, it was able to destroy without a second thought. Even when it was good, love could be devastating. Those who wielded it as their weapon of choice nearly fell into a subcategory of this group. They used other people's fear of the matter against them or they lured people in to get what they wanted and threw them to the curb without a second glance.

Everyone on earth, living or dead, had felt at least once that love was out of their reach, Alastor reasoned. Hopelessness is one of the most vital parts of the human condition, after all.

Perennial was the category in which most people fell. Love came and went. It lived and died, but always returned like the plants he had named this grouping for.

Then there were people like Y/n. Not a day went by where she wasn't explaining how much she adored something random or telling people she loved them, throwing the word around as if it had no weight, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to love, to share love. When Angel had made some snide remark about everything being her alleged 'favorite thing,' Y/n had quickly replied, saying:

"Aren't I lucky for that? Isn't that just wonderful?"

Alastor couldn't tell in which category he fell or what his opinion was about that answer of hers. One thing he did know was that Y/n was to be avoided at all costs.

She was the typical sinner. Never too bad of a person when alive, but never too good either. She wore her hedonism like a badge of honor, living her afterlife in much the same way Alastor assumed she had lived her living life: in a constant state of indulgence.

It wasn't the typical form of being that takes a person's mind when they think of the word. No, Y/n didn't indulge in a reckless, Dionysian way. Instead, she devoured everything. Books, good food, music, friends, you name it. Y/n had a million stories about each and a million examples of the best they all had to offer on hand. She relished in all that every word had to offer.

Alastor had overheard her talking to Charlie one night about that. He hadn't meant to, he had just been wandering the hotel, unable to sleep and in need of some air, when he'd heard a slight commotion in the lobby. Hidden by his shadows, he had entered the familiar space to find an exhausted Charlie standing tensely before a bulletin board.

"God is in the details." Y/n was saying as she adjusted the plans pinned on the structure so they were easier to read, more cohesive, "Anything can be a work of art, don't forget that. It's what makes everything so undeniably worth it."

She was so utterly out of his reach. Not that Alastor wanted Y/n in his reach, no. How ridiculous would that be: the Radio Demon, the most feared overlord in all of Hell, getting butterflies because he heard a girl tell someone else she loved them and imagined it was him. No, that would be utterly foolish which was why it wasn't the case, couldn't be the case. He must be getting sick, that was why his stomach had felt weird.

"What are you reading?" he heard Sir Pentious ask as the snake demon took a seat on the couch beside Y/n.

Alastor was at the bar, sharing a drink with Husk. His ear twitched in their direction.

"It's a book discussing the changes in interpretations of Sappho's poetry over time." Y/n replied, her tone soft and even.

It felt like a salve against Alastor's ears. Husk raised an eyebrow towards his master but made no remark.

"Really? I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing."

"I was actually a professor in the human world... living world? Whatever. I didn't work on Sappho, I worked on ancient medicine, but I always found her intriguing and lovely. I mean, phainetai moi is creating a diagnosed love, using all the language of medicine. How could it not capture my attention?"

"You know, if you look at Homer, the same language Sappho uses is also used to describe love. She is actually working off a preexisting cannon of love as something painful and destroying."

"Really?"

"Yes, and curse tablets tend to draw off medical writings quite a bit as well, especially those involved in love magic."

"Huh, that’s a neat little intersection I have yet to explore: medicine, magic, and love. I never knew you knew so much about this. You died in the 1890s, right?"

"Sometime around then."

"I should have guessed then, my mistake. Tell me, what was it like growing up with all this wonder at your finger tips? It was hard for me to even find a university with a classics department, let alone a good one. You’re lucky to have had it all right there."

Now that was an interesting idea to Alastor. A diagnosable love, a painful and deadly thing. Love as a curse, love as being shot through by an enemy spear, love as a god. It made more sense to him than anything else about the matter had. Unavoidable, not something self imposed. A cursed love, a medical love, something that controlled a person rather than vice versa.

He lay awake at night, unable to speak, pale as grass, thinking unwillingly of the way her lips curved to form words, of the way one could see the gears of her mind turning behind her eyes. He lay awake, unable to do anything else. He stared at the ceiling.

"Ah! Angel! Thank you!" Y/n exclaimed as he handed her the sweater he'd spotted her eyeing a few days before when they'd been for a walk around town, "This was so kind of you!"

Alastor watched as Y/n pulled the lanky demon into a hug which he reluctantly returned, looking down at her with a platonic version of the sort of fondness that was so forbidden to him.

"Great work Angel!" Charlie clapped excitedly, "That's a step in the right direction."

No, it wasn't love. Alastor Hartifelt didn't love, he had lost that ability the day he had died and he'd barely had it before that. It didn't matter that his heart skipped a beat, there was no truth to his upset stomach when he had to speak to her except something bad he must have eaten. The sleeplessness wasn't new, sleep had never been his friend so to speak, the two had never really gotten along. The reason it got so stuck in his head, the way she threw her affection around, was the carelessness of it all, the foolishness. Only, what he had overheard her saying to Charlie that night, that anything can be a work of art, were the words of someone who acted purely on intention, who did nothing without considered thought.

Y/n couldn't be a wielder of love. Alastor never once saw her manipulate someone or even really ask anyone for anything at all. There was no way she was scared and the way she freely gave took her out of the other two categories as well. It didn't make sense. The intention, the earnestness, the true meaning behind her actions and words that always seemed to shine through no matter what she did, was what had him stuck. She barley even fit into her own category because of it. Most people that threw love around the way she did had the words and actions lose their meaning over time but, somehow, that seemed never to be the case for her.

He pictured a life on earth. He pictured walking with her beneath the stars, the way the light of the moon would play gently across her skin. He pictured her in the recording studio, the one he'd worked at while alive, waiting by the door for him to finish his work and taking him by the hand, dragging him off into the unknown. He pictured waking up beside her in the morning, all messy hair and smiles. He pictured, he dreamed, he dissolved. The doctors diagnosed him and he went to see other people because he didn't like the answer they gave him.

Y/n pulled Vaggie from her seat at the bar, spinning the demon into an ungraceful waltz to the music Alastor was playing on the piano for the group. He nearly fumbled, nearly missed a note. She missed so many steps and it didn't matter because she was laughing, and so was Vaggie. She didn't have to be perfect, but he did.

They each smiled ear to ear while Charlie clapped along to the beat. He imagined himself in Vaggie's place, he could practically feel his hands on the gentle curve of her hips. The world was half real.

It wasn't love because he didn't know her, he never spoke to her. It wasn't love because that was impossible, he couldn't love. It wasn't love because that was an ability he'd left in the world of the living. It wasn't love because she was too kind, too good, and he was nothing if not brutal and bloodstained to his core. It wasn't love because it couldn't be. It wasn't love because if it was...

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

He repeated the mantra to himself. Alone walking the halls, in meetings with the other overlords, making tea in the kitchen. He whispered the words to himself like a prayer.

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

Y/n was out of reach, untouchable, destined to join the ranks of Heaven while he remained rotting in Hell. It couldn't be anything else, no other future was possible which was why it wasn't love. She was made of all the things a human is and he was made of those a monster is. She was bright, she shined, and Alastor fed off the light of others, burning it out into darkness. He refused to do such a thing to her, he couldn't. Not when she was practically the sun. Not when he wasn't even a star but the black hole of the earth revolving around her.

He saw her holding Husk's hands over the bar top as he told her something, a look of deep concern etched into her features. He watched her pick Nifty up by the waist so the little demon could dust the tops of the bookshelves. He watched her, he waited, he would always be waiting because nothing could ever happen. Nothing would ever happen, he wouldn't allow it and goddamnit it wasn’t love.

It was also impossible, Alastor reminded himself. He had left that part of himself when he had died, it hadn't made the journey with him. The most favored fantasy of his own humanity, or what was left of it. The little spark of the person he had been that glowed softly from the center of his chest. Alastor had tried to douse it, tried to kill it, tried to rip it from himself but all he'd ever ended up with was bloody hands and torn flesh and the light pulsed on in its eternal hunger, its eternal hope, its eternal harm.

And then it was too late. Then, she really was gone, double dead or however anyone wanted to call it. Adam dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground and Alastor's world crashed in around him because no matter how many times he had said it wasn't, no matter how he had avoided her, no matter what he had done it had been love, or the beginnings of it at least. The closest thing to it he'd ever really felt. His hand tightened around the staff of his microphone. Alastor bared his teeth, he saw red.

"What have you done?"

Adam turned to him, grinning. Y/n deserved a viking funeral, to be surrounded by flowers and sent off in a burning boat. She deserved a Greek burial, reduced to ashes and buried with all the proper rites that made sure she would make it to the afterlife. She deserved, she was owed, he was angry.

"What." Adam laughed, "Was she your little bitch?"

Alastor didn't think he had any room left inside him for the fury, but found his rage redoubled at Adam's words.

"What did you just call her?"

"Your little bitch." Adam smirked, "She was a cute one, shame you all are gonna have to burn. Woulda kept her for myself."

Adam looked down, nudging Y/n's lifeless corpse with the toe of his shoe. Alastor attacked. There was no thought, no order, no grace, there was only the anger. Only now that it was too late, was he at last able to let loose, be less than perfect, exist in an unintentional manner. Or was it that this was the true meaning of intention -- reckless abandon? Y/n probably would have thought that. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what she would have thought, what any of them did think. It was too late. There was no more time and Alastor had come to terms with his own frailty a second past the buzzer. He would never forgive himself.

"You will pay for what you have done. You will die for what you have done."

Because it had been love, all along and Alastor, who had thought himself above it all, had been in that first group. He had been scared, not of what love could do but of what Y/n would, of what she had already done to him. Now it was too late and he would never get another chance.

"You will fucking die!"

----

Part Two --> → Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

[swtsupernatural]

D&S W. || NEVER ENOUGH

Dean & Sam Winchester & Winchester! Middle-Sibling! Gender Neutral! Reader

Content Warning Takes place after John's death, no specific episode, just soon after. Swearing, dealing with John's death & grieving, reader throws up once, use of knives and guns, mentions of demons, dean being unable to communicate his feelings

Summary Angst !!! hurt/comfort for reader - Dad died, and all you could think about was how he died not even liking his middle child. You.

W.C. 2.2 k

Ask anon : Could you do something with the Winchester brothers and a Winchester reader? Where the reader is the middle child and is the forgotten one of the family. The reader feels kind of useless compared to Sam and Dean.

Playlist: ♫ I Love You So - The Walters, Better Than Me - The Brobecks, I Know the End - Phoebe Bridgers

A.N. first platonic winchester reader fic ! wrote this sooo fast lol (I think I was projecting even though I'm the oldest child) also I had to include my fav chaotic old man duo in this one...enjoy! - claire <3

Dad was dead. It hadn't been too long since he left, but fuck. He was dead and all you could think of was how much of a shit child you were. You tried your entire life to prove yourself to your dad; but you weren’t Dean; you didn’t follow him blindly, listen to his every order, pick up on hunting skills like it was playing cards. And you weren’t Sam; you weren't booksmart, you didn't have a touch for understanding, and you weren’t as defiant. Yet, it still seems like your whole life that you were your dad’s least favorite. Now you didn’t have Dad, and you felt sick to your stomach that you were almost relieved. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and another one had been placed in your stomach. Your own father had died and you were relieved. No wonder you were the least favorite. 

When you were younger, you’d been more like Sam. Dean was Dad;s pupil, and to you both it didn’t matter who was second because you were both not your older brother. You’d move to a random small town school,get picked on like Sam did, Dean told you he’d beat them up for you, and then you moved again. Every now and then shit would go down and you’d spend some nights at Bobby’s — and it repeated all over again. Then, Sam had graduated highschool and left you and Dean for Stanford. You and Dean never went into upper education, it hadn’t really crossed either of your minds. Sam was 18, you were 20, and Dean was 22. You’d been out of school for a bit, trying desperately to keep up with Dean and Dad, you were just never as good. You didn’t know anything else, and couldn’t see yourself doing well in any other ‘profession,’ if you could even call it that. A couple weeks after Sam left, you were digging through the trash like a damn raccoon looking for a note cliping you’d accidentally thrown away with some crucial information about your current hunt. You found the sticky note, but it had latched onto a thick, white piece of paper. It was a job application. It was Dean’s. You nearly cried, he wanted to be a firefighter. You were so emotional because you know he totally could; he’d be wonderful at it. But he’d never leave the hunting life, especially not after Sam had “abandoned Dad and us,” as he put it. The heat of the fire brought you back to the stupid forest you’d bought Dad’s body to. The fire was warm, but still not comforting in the slightest despite the chipping cold. Your cheeks were pink, and you could feel your eyes starting to water. This was it.

You began walking with your head down in the opposite direction of the Impala. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Dean’s voice was gruff, his own head and heart in turmoil, showing in his wavering voice. He never sounded like that. It was so uncharacteristic and gazing up at their faces made you sick. They were lit up warm from the fire, both of their green eyes shining, frowns and dirt on their faces. You doubled over by a tree, placing your hand on the tough bark as you threw up your breakfast on the dewy grass. You heard Sam sigh, the thick, uncut grass rusting, a hand coming to your back as he pushed the hair from your face. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told you everything. He knew more about your struggle with Dad than Dean did. Sam had always been easier to talk to. That’s why you wanted him to leave.

“Sam,” you whispered after wiping your face, “you need to go back to school, dude.” Sam looked down sheepishly.

“Y/N, cmon, you know I was there on scholarship, I–

“And you were also the best in your program, Sam. Dad’s gone. Go back, go make something of your life, please.”

“And what will you do? Keep hunting?”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I’m not good at anything else, Sam! Hell, I’m not even that good a hunter. I’m half the reason he left to go on that stupid hunt in the first place.”

“Don’t start with that, Y/N.” 

“I know it, you know it, and Dean knows it. Just…I need to be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” Dean’s voice came from your left, walking up at a quick pace with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“You don’t get it.” You whispered, and they just heard your small voice.

“What’s there to get?” Dean huffed, shaking his head.

“Dean, knock it off,” Sam muttered.

“What you don’t get, is that Dad never fucking liked me while like he liked you both. And Sam, don’t act like he resents you for leaving or something. He stayed up sighing and reading all those student aid and college billing bullshit because he knew you could do it. And Dean, he always taught you so much more than me because you actually got hunting like he did and knew what you were doing. I was never good at either. I wish I was the one burning in that fucki—

Dean grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the tree.

“Can you shut up about yourself for two damn seconds when we're at Dad’s funeral? I don’t need you crying about him being a dick when he’s dead. He had funny ways of showing it, but he loved you, Y/N.”

“No he didn’t,” You shoved him off of you, shoving your hands in your coat and huffing out steamy air as you returned to the car. Your brother’s followed you, but you were already lifting the trunk and grabbing your duffle bag. 

“Bye. See ya around.”

“Dean, let them go,” Sam grabbed his arm, stopping his brother from getting to you. “Even I know Dad was always a dick to them.

“C’mon, dude, give ‘em a break, just for now. We’ll call them in a couple days, it’ll be fine.” Dean shook Sam off of him, opening his car door and slamming it aggressively. Sam sighed, getting in the car and watching the black smoke in the rearview mirror flying up into the sky.  __________________________________________

It had been four weeks. Four weeks, two cases solved, 11 missed phone calls from Sam, 6 from Dean, and now you were cornered in a damn demon’s trap. It was 5 against 1, but that didn’t change how useless you felt. You were never as good of a fighter as Sam or Dean, you weren’t as obnoxiously tall or particularly strong. You always felt useless as a child, as a sibling, as a hunter, and as yourself. Of course this would be how you died.

You were at the point of just giving in and calling it quits on your life when a booming BANG rang out. From behind you, two more shots rang out, knives slashing. You didn’t question it, you just acted. You managed to corner the last demon, grabbing his head from behind and shoving your knife in his throat, killing it. You focused your eyes up and saw the last person you were thinking about. But boy, were you glad to see him.

“Bobby?” He crushed you in a big hug, gun in one hand and a first aid bag in the other. 

“Heard’a some weird stuff in this town, deaths and weird figures, figured it was demons. But, when Rufus and I went into the local police office as P.I.s, they said someone with your description already came by,” He grumbled.

“You know how stupid it is to go on a hunt alone when you're young, kid?” Rufus spoke, as his way of greeting you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a half-hug. “That’s why I always drag this old man with me in case shit goes down. So I can throw him in the storm and buy myself some time to run.” Bobby rolled his eyes at Rufus’ sarcastic words, and led you both out of the building.

“Why aren’t you with the boys, Y/N?” You sighed, running a dirty hand through your hair. 

“You uh…heard about Dad?” Bobby stopped the tread to his old car, turning and peered at you with dark eyes. 

“I did. Don’t worry, m’not gonna hit you with all that “I’m sorry, woe is you” crap you hate.” You huffed, smiling at Bobby, “But, I am gonna tell ya you always have a place to stay, kiddo.”

“Thank you.” 

He looked at you expectedly, his head tilting towards you, “...So?”

“I left them after the funeral. I was just…having a hard time, Bobby.” You muttered, sitting in the back seat like a little kid.

“I know, kiddo. How’s about you come to my place and get yourself straight, hm?” You nodded, and Bobby watched you through the rear view mirror hanging above him. Your hair was greasy and the bags under your eyes almost purple. This had been fucking you up a lot.

Bobby got out and opened the trunk, rearranging things while Rufus opened the garage to grab salt, bullets, and gear to restock after your predicament. He tossed you his keys and you caught them with a jingle. You shoved them in the door and finally turned the janky lock, pushing it open. You froze.

Sam and Dean were sitting on the couch. The second you sighed and stepped inside, Dean shot up from his seat rushing towards you, wrapping you in a far too tight hug. He pulled away, his lips in a straight line as he lightly smacked you upside the head.

“You scared the shit out of us, dumbass.”

“Great to see you, too.” 

“Where were you?” 

You shrugged, moving past Dean to Bobby’s cramped, warm, familiar living room.

“I was on the road…hitchhiking, looking into cases, all that.” “I’m gonna refrain from telling you how dangerous that is and opt for a hug,” Sam grumbled as he wrapped his long arms around you. 

“Why are you here?” You asked, settling down on the couch like no time had passed at all since you last saw them. Sam began to speak up, but Dean cut him off and Sam stared at him sternly.

“Cause we couldn’t find you and you weren’t answering us, and Bobby said he found you on a hunt near his place. We got here right before you guys. Y/N you had us fucking worried.”

“I’m sorry. I needed some time alone. I…love you guys. But being around you after Dad, it just reminds me that I’ll never be good enough for him. He’s dead and all I can think about is how he died not even liking me. I’ll never be like either of you.”

Sam laughed; he actually laughed out loud. “Like me? Are we talking about the same people? Cause I see visions of people dying, Y/N. I dropped out of college and can’t do anything right in anyone’s eyes, not just Dad’s.”

“That's not true, Sam…” He sat down next to you on the couch, his knees turned towards you, his eyes dark and watchful. Dean mumbled something about getting you all drinks and disappeared into the kitchen, sensing a touchy conversion he'd rather not be a part of just yet.

“And Dean,” Sam continued, “Dean would rather die than open up to anyone, even either of us, and he can’t function if he’s not drinking, hooking up with some random girl, or drinking. Which is why he’s getting us drinks right now. If anything, you’re the one I’d rather be like. I know Dean would too.” You rolled your eyes pointedly, like Sam was talking nonsense. He moved his head to find your eyes, tilting his head towards you with that face he made that would always stop you from talking. “Y’know, you’re so good at reading us and we didn’t even realise until you were gone. Honestly, Dean and I have never fought that much. And you’re always good at talking with the vics and feds, way better than me or Dean, I–

“Can we end the girly-crap convo now, please?” Dean handed each of you a beer, throwing his back the second he sat down, drinking way too much in one sip.

“Sorry we have feelings, Dean. In case you forgot; most people have those.”

“Yea, yea. Listen,” he turned to you after he groaned, trying to look sincere, well, as sincere as Dean could look. 

“You’re probably the least fucked up one in our freak family, Y/N, so quit it, alright? Sammy and I…we love ya.” He threw his hand that wasn’t clutching his drink up in a surrender. “That good? Can we please drink now and head to our next stop with a hangover in the morning?”

You chuckled, clink-ing your drink with your brothers, and nodding to Dean. He smiled silently, thankful you were back. He hadn’t realized how much you kept the peace and sanity between the three of you. He really missed you. 

“There better be two of those left, idjits,” Bobby grumbled, Rufus on his tail as they went into the kitchen grabbing a bottle each. They sat opposite of you all on the other couch and you held up your bottle. 

“Cheers. To being a weird, fucked up family.”

“Cheers!” Sam gave you a tight lipped, sweet smile. “Cheers to that,” Dean finished the rest of his drink, throwing his head back.

“You kids are gonna kill me,” Bobby muttered.

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | ten.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.2k (sorry i know i said 5.5k.. had to chop off a bit and move it onto the next chapter lol)

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, flashback scene, yuyu and yeosang find themselves at a house party ayeee 🤪, yeosang assuming the role of wingman, alcohol consumption, intoxication, a sprinkle of seonghwa, dancing/throwing ass back, cute funny drunk yunho lol, making out, dry humping, sleepovers 😙

one night - sire | mi gente - j balvin | dj turn it up - yellow claw

Yunho looks at himself in the mirror, letting out a deep sigh. He opted for a simple outfit— one that could keep him cool in a packed house and not be too extra for a party. But, the longer he stares at it, the more he feels like he could do better. Or, maybe, you might not even notice him or think much of him in this outfit. 

How does he do this?

Honestly, he's not even sure what constitutes a 'house party' outfit.

"Nice." Yeosang nods as he stands near Yunho's doorway.

"It's too plain, isn't it?" Yunho eyes Yeosang's outfit. He's in a loose, black sleeveless top, a bomber jacket, jeans and boots.

"No, why? It's fine." It's Yeosang's turn to eye Yunho in his fit, and he honestly thinks it's perfect for tonight's events. Yunho opted for black jeans, a white Stussy shirt, and his converse. He has a silver bracelet dangling around his wrist, cologne sitting at the corner of his dresser. Yeosang doesn't smell it on him yet, but he thinks it's because Yunho is questioning whether it's too much or not. "You look good."

"Should I add some cologne? A light jacket?"

"Add the cologne." Yeosang laughs. "But, not the jacket. I'm literally only going in this because I'm just there for a few drinks and to be a wingman. Then, I'll see myself out." Yunho smiles and nods.

"Hm." Yunho hums. "I'm just going there for a bit, too."

"Mm, but you're going there to hang out with Y/N and grab her for a few dances. I refuse to leave until you get a moment with her."

"I don't know. What if she doesn't wanna, though? I'm not gonna force her."

"Seriously? With all the little walks you guys take and your study sessions?" Yeosang smirks. "Right." He looks at his phone. "Anyway, we're a bit late. Wanna take a shot or two and walk over?" Yunho shrugs.

"Sure." Yunho takes one last look at himself before spraying a bit of cologne and meeting Yeosang in the kitchen. Yunho doesn't like to drink much because he hates the feeling, especially the next morning. But tonight, he was feeling a little more bold— like he could use the extra liquid courage to be less nervous around you.

Not that he needed it, but it was a party. He'd like to be of some fun for you.

By the time Yunho heads out to the kitchen, Yeosang already has 2 red cups ready to go. He tilts the cup to the side, peeking at how much alcohol was inside—

Yeosang must have wanted him to die.

"This isn't a shot or two. This is half the bottle." Yeosang laughs and shakes his head.

"Not even. I swear dude, you'll be fine. We can pace ourselves when we get there. Plus who knows, they might've taken all the alcohol already."

"It's only been 30 minutes since the party started." 

"A lot can happen in 30 minutes." Yeosang picks up his cup and raises it in the air. "Cheers?" Yunho shrugs and taps his cup against his, internally dying at how much alcohol is in his cup.

"Cheers." Yunho swallows the first half in a big gulp before cracking open the coke can. He takes a sip before gulping down the last bit and making a face at Yeosang. "Don't ever do that again."

"You're welcome." Yeosang laughs. "Let's head out and get your girl." Yunho shakes his head, quickly cleaning the kitchen before shutting off the lights and following Yeosang out. Luckily, the party is at a house right behind the complex, so Yeosang and Yunho aren't having to walk too far. As they approach the community, Yunho can already hear the music blasting from down the street, followed by a few echoes of loud yells and cheers. Hearing the noise makes him feel a bit anxious, and he's starting to regret his decision based off of it alone.

But, he commits. He knows he'll see you soon, and things will feel a bit better.

It does help knowing Yeosang joined to make him feel more comfortable.

Approaching the house, Yunho can see that there are people packed on the first floor of the house and into the backyard. He follows Yeosang in, squeezing his way past all the drunk people to head to the kitchen.

"Here, gonna make you a drink to sip on." Yeosang says, pointing at the counter where all the liquor and soda are laid out. Yunho continues to follow along, even if his eyes are searching high and low for you. He hasn't seen you yet, and he's hoping he does soon.

He really just wants to find you and be with you.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

Yunho kicks the rocks beneath his shoes, hands dug deep into his pockets as he patiently waits at the end of the path. He's anxious, and a bit nervous; but overall, happy to finally see you. His head shoots up the moment he hears a door click close, footsteps jogging down the steps.

"Yunho!" You softly squeal, giggling as you run straight into his arms. He wraps you into a bear hug, slightly swinging you around before placing you back down onto your feet.

"Hey cutie."

"I missed you! You're actually here."

"I told you I came home early." You chuckle before gently squeezing his bicep.

"I know, but it's nice to know it's real." You smile. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. How was your drive over?"

"I fell asleep for most of it. We stopped at a pitstop to grab more grub, but otherwise, it was okay." He nods.

"Club was fun last night?"

"Sooo much fun! I met so many new friends, and the DJ was so good! It was such a good time. I wish you had been there." 

"I wish I was too. But, next time. Yeah?" You nod.

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'm happy you had fun, though. You deserved it, all of it." You link your arm around his, absentmindedly following him to his car. You don't realize it until he's opening the car door, gesturing at you to wait until he grabs a few things from the seat. "I have something for you."

"What is it?" Your eyes sparkle as you stand and wait.

"You said you needed to get new lavender for your room, right?" You remember texting him that a few days ago, and you can't help but smile at Yunho's attention to detail.

"Are you serious?" You slightly pout when he hands you the small bouquet of lavender, plus a smaller bag.

"I-I also found those persimmons you like so much." He scratches at the nape of his neck, nervously watching you eye the gifts. Your expression is a tad bit unreadable, and Yunho can't really tell if he's crossed a line or if he's okay. But, to his surprise, you set the things down onto the trunk of the car and jump back into his arms.

"Yunho, you really are the best. Thank you for all of this."

"Of course. I guess it's my odd way of saying congrats?" You giggle, allowing him to press a small kiss against your temple. 

♣︎ END

But, unluckily for you, you're having to deal with a drunk Seonghwa who doesn't seem to get the point. You had been avoiding him since you arrived, sticking close to a few other friends in the backyard while watching an intense game of beer pong taking place. The moment you stepped away to go find your bestfriends, Seonghwa comes stumbling out of nowhere— ziplining straight to you once he spots you.

"Babygirl, can we talk?" You can smell the liquor on him, his hand wrapping gently around your wrist. "I've missed you. I've been waiting for you all night. Just give me a few mins—"

"Not now. I'm trying to find my friends."

"Your friends?"

"Seonghwa." You warn him because you know exactly where this is going.

"You sure it isn't Yunho? I hope it isn't." Seonghwa laughs at the possibility even though your expression confirms the answer.

"And if it is, then what? At the end of the day, it isn't your business." Seonghwa scoffs.

"Are you serious? I don't get you. I don't get it. I've been turning everyone down for you, and you don't even realize—"

"Okay, then go do whatever the fuck you want Seonghwa! No one asked you to do that, I told you this was over. Stop keeping tabs on me." You rip your hand from his grip even as he continues to call for you, walking away from the hallway into the crowded, but hyped living room. Every single person in the room was dancing; either with friends or with another person. You catch a glimpse of Yunho standing against the wall with Mingi and Yeosang, flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. He sips on his drink, eyes meeting yours across the room. You're in this cute cargo mini skirt, a cropped tee and Nike dunks.

Goddamn, you look good.

And if it wasn't for all this liquid courage, he wouldn't be thinking about grabbing you for a dance— just for funsies. Bonus that he gets you, all of you, to himself tonight.

You didn't even expect Yunho to show up at this point, being that he's said time and time again that he wasn't into parties. But, you're glad he is. Mingi and Yeosang must have done a lot of convincing, which they did. Though, the other part of it was the fact that he knew you'd be here and that might give him another opportunity to get even closer to you.

"Hey, what the fuck was that about?" Chaery pulls you out of your little staring contest when she comes out of the kitchen and gently squeezes your arm.

"Just Seonghwa being Seonghwa, what else?" You roll your eyes, still appalled at Seonghwa's audacity to try and gatekeep you for the night even though you're well aware there isn't one truthful bone in his body. You ended this, and you had no plans on falling back into his trap tonight. 

Not on the agenda.

"Dude, forget him, let's just have fun." Soobin says, pointing at your group of friends in the corner of the room. "Everyone else is over there." You follow them over, eyes glancing over to Yunho again. He's still conversing with Mingi and Yeosang, though his eyes follow yours mid-convo. It's almost like he's waiting for you, or waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move. You're hoping he does, but you also have no problem making the first move.

Yunho is so, so attractive.

You would be lying if you said your feelings for Yunho weren't growing by the second.

You meet up with your friends in the living room; Hyunjin, Jongho, Taehyun, Minnie and Yeonjun already dancing along to the song and showing off their moves. You, Seungmin, Soobin and Chaery join along, before Yeonjun is passing his flask around so that your group can take more shots together. At this point, you're tipsy and definitely feeling yourself more as the alcohol continues to run through your veins.

Feeling yourself, feeling bold, feeling good despite Seonghwa trying to ruin your night and be all possessive— who the fuck was he to act that way? He didn't want it in the first place, so you'll give him a little taste of his own medicine.

You can't help but turn over your shoulder to see Yunho bouncing along to the beat while Mingi is scoping the room. You can tell he's trying to get Yunho to explore and find himself a cutie to dance with, but he responds with a laugh and a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours [yet again for the umpteenth time tonight] and the tension suddenly increases tenfold through his look alone. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he's giving you a small smirk. 

You want him.

"Why don't you dance with him instead of eyeing him the entire night?" Chaery says in your ear, making you drunkily giggle.

"I'm too shy."

"Shut up, since when? You look so good tonight, fuck Seonghwa. I refuse to let him ruin your night. Get up on Jeong Yunho, now." She quickly glances at him. "He clearly wants you too." Suddenly, the lights in the living room shut off, obnoxious, colorful disco lights filling different corners of the room. It's clear that the intention behind shutting off the lights was to get everyone to the highest level of hoe tonight, and it's working—

Hyunjin is dancing with Minnie, Soobin and Yeonjun are dancing with some other girls in your class.

Even Seungmin is pulling Chaery to the middle for a fun, platonic dance. 

"Go for it, dude." Yeosang says to Yunho, gently nudging his arm. "She'll be out there any second."

"Y/N come out here!" Chaery yells, pulling you deeper into the dance floor with Seungmin. You know she's plotting on getting you closer to Yunho because the two of them are only an arms-length away from where Yeosang, Yunho and Mingi stand. You laugh and dance around with your bestfriends anyway, until you feel a hand gently grab at your wrist and pull you from the crowd. You turn to see Yunho smiling, pulling you flush to his body before grabbing your hips. Mingi is focused on his dance with one of the seniors, leaning back against the wall as she works her ass against him, while Yeosang is pursing his lips together to prevent himself from smiling at you and Yunho dancing together.

And Seonghwa? He shouldn't give a fuck, but he does. Especially when he sits on the random bar stool and catches you having fun with Yunho [out of all fucking people], his girl for the night whining for his attention in between his legs. The worst part is that Yunho can fucking dance.

The sly motherfucker has gigs and can keep up with your rhythm. Since when?

It looks so natural for the two of you to be all up on each other like this, and it makes Seonghwa so fucking annoyed, slightly sick to his stomach even. How the hell was he gonna lose his main chick over Jeong Yunho? 

But, you could care less about what he has to think. Right now, all you can think about is Yunho giving your hips a squeeze, fingers hooked into the belt loops of your skirt as he dances against you and works with your rhythm. What a turn on. 

After a couple of songs, it's transitioning into yet another song and you're worked the fuck out. You turn to face him, giggling as he keeps you close and rests his hands around your hips. 

"Thanks for the dance." You tell him in his ear, hand resting on the nape of his neck.

"Are you staying for awhile?" He asks, pulling back slightly just to read your expression.

"I was, but I don't mind leaving early." He looks at you again, a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"Wanna get outta here then? I'm kinda over it." You chuckle and nod.

"Let me just tell Chaery." You look over at Yeosang, who is still observing the party with another friend of his. "What about Yeosang?" Yeosang hears you and shakes his head with a smile on his face, deciding he'll be home later just to give you and Yunho some alone time. 

"No, it's alright. I'm gonna stay and catch up with more people." He lies. You nod, hand laced with Yunho's as you navigate the crowd and gently pull Chaery by the arm. She waves happily at Yunho before she's dipping forward to hear what you have to say.

"I'm gonna head out early." Her eyes widen before she squeals.

"Oh my god! Yes! Be safe, okay?" She points at Yunho. "You better take care of her or I'm chopping your shit off, for real." He winces.

"Yeah, don't worry. I got her."

"See you later!" 

"Or not, don't come home! That's fine, too!" Seungmin drunkly adds, making you roll your eyes as you both continue to through the crowd and out of the house.

"Thank god." He says the moment you two step out of the door and get hit with the fresh, evening air. You chuckle as you make your way out of the front yard and out onto the street, finally feeling free from suffering at a crowded, stuffy frat party.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." You look down at your hands still clasped together. As the cold hits, you're realizing you're still quite drunk and Yunho is too. He's much more talkative and giggly tonight. You like it.

"I wasn't either." He chuckles. "But Yeo and Mingi.."

"They did a lot to convince you, it seems." He shrugs.

"That. And, maybe the fact that I knew you were coming?" You shoot him a look before smiling down at the ground.

"You know you don't have to use the party as an excuse to hang out with me more, right?" 

"I don't know, you're a really pretty girl who has a really busy schedule. Thought it was a good way to sneak myself in a bit more outside of school and friends." You snort and nod.

"Yunho, I like your company. We can always hang out. You don't have to subject yourself to this mess."

"Eh, I'd say it was still worth it." You giggle.

"So, where are we going?"

"Down the street and back to my place?" He asks nervously. "If that's okay with you, of course. There's really no intention behind it, and I know you wanted to see my place, so I just—"

"I'd like that." He smiles. God, the fucking boldness spewing out of him right now— who is he?

"Okay." The walk is back up the hill, super quick and nothing too treacherous. Though, it seems like it lasts for 5 seconds when you're holding Yunho's hand and listening to him talk about everything he's observed at the party. He's making you laugh so much that you don't even remember the last time you had a stomach ache from someone telling you their party experiences. Everything is just so natural with Yunho, you can't help but accept the fact that your feelings for him do grow every second you're near him.

"Oh my god, I think I got a workout from that walk alone." He chuckles as he unlocks his door and steps aside to let you in.

"Good, at least our workout is covered for the weekend." You look around at the apartment. It's bare, but it's clean. They have a couch with a coffee table in the living room and a good sized tv. The kitchen is spotless, with a few containers of protein and Shaker bottles lying around the counter [thanks to Yeosang] and some bread and fruits off to the side.

"Wow, it's cozy and clean." Yunho chuckles.

"We try to keep it clean." He looks at you with glossy, drunk-dazed eyes. "And guess what? It's really hard." You snort.

"I beg to differ. You and Yeosang do a good job." He pops into the fridge and flashes a water bottle.

"Well, that's always good to hear." He laughs a bit. "Need some water?"

"Please." He smiles as he hands you the bottle in his hand. You both take a good gulp or two before Yunho starts to slowly walk down the hallway. 

"Quick tour - Yeosang's room, my room." He smiles. "End of tour." You laugh.

"Thank you for that." 

"Do you wanna hang out in my room or out here? It's up to you, I don't mind either way. Just want you to be comfortable." He says. You point to his door and he simply nods. He swings the door open to his room and it almost surprises you how neat it is inside. You're only peering in from the hallway though, carefully taking steps into his room before you're fully in his space, eyes wandering from wall to wall. He has a drawer against one wall, with a few figurines lining the top surface. He has a corner desk with two monitors, probably to help with his gaming [you assume; Seungmin and Soobin have been trying to do this setup for ages], and a good sized bed that has its navy sheets neatly fixed. His room isn't entirely huge, so it's obvious he's tried to utilize his space as much as possible.

"I feel like I'm intruding in your space, though." You say as you continue to eye his room. Yunho comes behind you, watching as you observe the surroundings.

"Trust me, you're not." He says softly from behind. You feel his presence close in on you from behind, chest almost grazing your back. "You can relax." He chuckles a bit, hoping it'll help you feel a little better. And he thinks it works, especially when you start to walk towards his drawer and carefully run your hand across his figurines and special edition funko pops. They were mostly given to him throughout the years by his older cousins. The gifts will always be special to him, especially now that they've all moved to various places around the world and he rarely ever sees them anymore. 

"Do you collect these?" Your eyes are still on the figurines while Yunho follows behind. He shakes his head as if you can see him.

"Not really, my cousins gifted me those."

"Sweet." You glance at him with a small smile. Then, your attention darts to the random pile of photos sitting at the corner. Your hands almost get ahead of themselves, beginning to reach over to grab them when you pause— "Pictures?" You look at him with that doe-eyed look again and he melts a bit.

"I found them while cleaning out a few things. It's mostly with my cousins and—"

"Baby Yunho with mom?!" You raise up a picture, one that has baby Yunho in a hat, striped t-shirt and shorts. He's sitting on the lap of who you presume is his mother, throwing up a thumbs up with a huge, hearty smile. "You are so cute, look at you!" He blushes, but he takes the photo from your hand and snags the others before you can see anything else embarrassing. 

"Uh, yeah. That's mom. I need to get a frame for these, but until then—"

"Let me see the others!" You pout, trying to reach for the others in his hand. He raises it, laughing at your effort when he's damn near as tall as the Salesforce Tower in SF. It's so adorable, and so, so endearing that you want to see this so badly. "Yunho, hey." You whine. "That's not fair. I wanna see baby Yunho with his cousins."

"You will, once I frame them and make it look more presentable." You give him an unsure look and he smiles. "Promise." You huff and scrunch your nose. "You're really, really cute, you know that?"

"If you think this is gonna make me forget about it, it's not gonna work Jeong Yunho." You look up at him as he closes the distance between you two.

"Oh, it's not?" He teases, his face dipping down towards you in an angle that'll make it so easy for him to just kiss you, indulge in you, right at this moment.

"Mm, no." You subtly bite onto your bottom lip, but Yunho catches it. There's a small pause, some silence sitting in the air while Yunho's eyes are darting to your features— the mole near your bottom eye lid, long, thick lashes, plump lips.

Yeah, he wants to kiss you.

"Y/N?" He breaks the silence first.

"Mhm?" His lips only a mere inches away from yours at this point and it's obvious where this is going. God, you can't wait.

"Is it okay if I..?" You nod quietly as Yunho leans in to meet your lips. At first, the kiss is soft, sweet. He only pulls back to quickly read your expression, but it doesn't last for long when you're pulling him by the shirt for another kiss. This time, it's deeper. There's hunger, there's need, there's want. Yunho quickly drops the photos back on top of the drawer before cupping your cheeks. His tongue lines your bottom lip before inserting it in, a small whimper leaving your mouth when his tongue starts to dance around with yours. You push him back so that he plops onto his bed, boldly climbing onto his lap without a care in the world as you continue to messily make out with him. The quick moment you release your lips from his, he's chasing after your bottom lip— gently sucking onto it and biting it before pulling back. One hand is at your waist, fingers starting to hook onto the belt loop of your skirt when he feels you subtly grind against him. He lets out a breath while the other hand gently squeezes at your thigh before coming up to cup your cheek. He kisses you on the lips once more before he trails down your jaw, feeling your hips working against him as you let out small moans. 

Your skirt is barely doing justice to cover you at this point, and it's driving Yunho crazy.

But, that's what brings him back to reality. Though it's hard as fuck to fully come back down from cloud nine, he doesn't wanna do this the wrong way. He wants to take you out first, wants to treat you properly and have your first time [if ever] naturally occur— not a drip of intoxication. You were worth much more than that, and he was not trying to be another Park Seonghwa who solely treated you like an object, a 'prized' possession; another body he could add to his list.

"Wait, wait." He whispers near your ear after prying his lips off of your jaw. 

"What's wrong?" You look at him with some sort of fear, or worry. Yunho immediately shakes his head in response because there's nothing wrong with you; he just wants to do right by you.

"As much as I really, really wanna do this right now, I wanna do things right with you." His eyes land on yours as his thumb continues to caress your cheek. "Especially don't wanna be intoxicated if it ever gets to that point. Is that okay?" You give him a soft smile and nod.

"More than okay." 

"Okay." He comes in for another sweet, gentle kiss against your lips— one where he stays there for a bit before slowly pulling back. "I don't wanna mess this up."

"You won't, Yunho. You couldn't." You brush the hair out of his face before lazily wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest at your waist while he looks at you, eyes darting across every inch of your face.

God, you are so beautiful. So sweet, and so beautiful. 

Seonghwa is the biggest dumbass he has ever come across. But to each their own!

"Do you.. wanna make some pb&j sandwiches? Watch a movie while we lay down? Play a board game?" You giggle.

"Actually, a pb&j sandwich followed by a movie while laying down sounds amazing right now." 

"Okay, let's do it." He taps your waist. 

"Wait. Do you have clothes I can borrow and change into? Cause I definitely don't wanna lay down in this." He chuckles and walks to his drawer after the both of you get back on your feet. He hands you some shorts and a longsleeve, telling you to use whatever in the bathroom that you might need to freshen up. "Thank you." You plant a chaste kiss to his cheek before freshening up in his bathroom and changing into his clothes. You smile to yourself, smelling the scent of his detergent on the pieces of material, feeling how soft it is against your skin. 

When you walk out, Yunho is already toasting some bread while grabbing the peanut butter and jelly. You giggle as you place your clothes down in his room, slipping yourself onto the counter near him while he goes to work.

"Yunho, the peanut butter to jelly ratio is off." 

"No, it's not." He holds up the bread slice with a thin layer of jelly.

"It needs more jelly. You can still see parts of the bread cause there's not enough jelly." He laughs and nods.

"Okay, cutie. I'm on it." He adjusts the ratio until you're happily clapping and take the sandwich from him. You bite into it with so much satisfaction that Yunho can't help but be pleased with himself. You're happy. Here— with him and this sandwich.

"Hey." Yeosang suddenly walks through the door and slightly furrows his brows at the two of you laughing over pb&j sandwiches. You're sitting on the counter with Yunho now slotted in between your legs.

"Oh, hey! How was the rest of the party?" He shrugs and tosses his keys aside.

"Alright, I guess. You guys didn't miss out on much."

"Are Chaery and them still there?" He nods.

"Yeah, but they were getting ready to head out too." 

"Want a pb&j sandwich?" Yeosang laughs.

"I'm good. Thanks." He spots Yunho's clothes on you and prevents himself from smirking a bit too big. He doesn't know you too well enough to tease, plus he feels like he can't just flat out assume, so he keeps it to himself and bids you two farewell instead. "I'm gonna shower in a bit and head to bed. Fucking beat."

"Goodnight!" You and Yunho call out before he disappears into his room. You and Yunho giggle at each other as you continue to satisfy your drunchies before getting yourselves ready for the movie. The both of you settle on a true crime documentary for god knows why [definitely not shits and giggles], but as long as Yunho was around, you felt comforted enough. He hands you an extra toothbrush from his stash, reassuring you that he wasn't pressuring you to stay unless you really wanted to.

Which, you did.

It was late. You were comfortable in his clothes. Of course you'd fall asleep mid-documentary. Plus, Yunho wasn't gonna let you leave this late even if you lived across the lot. 

Once you and Yunho get more comfortable and clean up in the kitchen, he shuts off the lights and closes his door— leaving you to stand awkwardly in his room as you wait for him. He chuckles a bit and grabs his laptop off of his desk before nodding towards his bed.

"You can lay down, you know?" 

"It's your bed. You should pick which side you want first." 

"I'll hang out on the end so that the monsters don't come and get you in the middle of the night." You laugh and shake your head, slipping yourself near the wall after Yunho pulls his sheets back. He settles in right after, allowing you to snuggle against him as he sets the laptop on his tummy. "Are you okay?"

"You're comfy." He snorts a bit as the movie starts to play.

"Definitely gonna fall asleep."

"Am not." You whine.

"Probably 20 mins tops."

And Yunho's right, except it barely hits 20 minutes before he hears the soft snores against his chest. He smiles down at you before shutting off his laptop, setting it on the floor near his bed before adjusting his position so that the two of you were snuggled deeply under his covers.

He could get used to this, and he doesn't know if it's more of a good or bad thing right now.

But he doesn't ponder for long— setting a small kiss on the top of your head before shutting his eyes and letting the drowsiness take over.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunholuvrsblog @mingigiggles @jaerisdiction

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

[arctickat2400]

Left Behind ∞ Damon Salvatore

Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,252

Request: Idk if you’re accepting requests but I really love the things you write so here I am! Could you please write some Damon Salvatore x female reader? Something with a lot of angst and comfort, I was thinking of something around the time when Damon finds out that his mother is alive and she just chose to leave him behind when he was a little kid, just searching for some comfort in the reader please? 

Notes/Warnings: Quote from show (not my quote - credit to show), violent outbursts (no one gets hurt physically), comfort, Damon is 178 like in the show, I wrote it from the top of my head without many notes so proceed with caution (lol)

* * * *

The sound of glass shattering against the wall prompted you to drop your book and rush downstairs to see Damon pacing around the living room, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration. 

“Damon, what happened? What’s going on?” You shuddered at the sight of your distressed boyfriend. Damon turned to you, looking back on the conversation he never wanted to remember ever again. 

“You look exactly the same as you did 172 years ago.” Was the first thing Damon said the moment he laid on his very much alive mother. All this time he thought she was dead. Turns out, she’s been alive and never came to find him.

“I have a really good skin-care routine,” Lillian deadpanned. 

“After all this time, why’d you never come back for us sooner?” Damon wondered, fearing the answer. Why else would she have stayed away for so long?

“Because, Damon, I never wanted you in the first place. I chose to leave because I had more important matters to attend to,” Lillian admitted as if it was the most normal thing to say to a person. Damon felt like a dagger had pierced right through his heart. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The person who he thought left because they had no choice had actually left because they wanted to. The person who he thought loved him the most never really loved him at all. 

“She walked out on me. That’s all there is to it,” Damon confessed like it was nothing before he turned without another word and walked out the door. 

Your heart broke for the love of your life. You knew what he was talking about. Just a few hours ago, Damon had left after finding out his mother was alive. He’d told you where he was going and was gone within seconds. You hadn’t known when to expect him back, but you knew something was seriously wrong the moment you heard the glass shatter. 

You sighed, deciding to give him some space. You took a broom from the hall closet to clean up the glass and a towel to wash up the splattered bourbon. Throwing the towel in the wash and the glass in the trash, you strolled outside to find your boyfriend. 

“What’re you doing?” You found Damon sitting on the front steps of the Salvatore House. You leaned against the doorframe behind him, crossing your arms over your chest, waiting. All you wanted to do was be there for him, listen, and make sure he knows he’s not alone in his sorrows. 

“Looking at the stars, listening to the Universe laugh at me.” Damon expressed nonchalantly. He couldn’t believe that after all these years, his entire life, he believed that his mother was dead, that she left not of her own will. He guessed he didn’t know his mother as well as he thought. All the stories he was told, lies. It wasn’t that she had to go. He was just unwanted, left behind. 

You move from inside to walk down the stairs and sit on the grass in front of Damon. You sat with a bit of room in between you both, knowing about Damon’s random outbursts. You sit with your legs stretched out in front of you, one crossed over the other with your hands intertwined in your lap as you gaze up at him. Your expressed was filled with many emotions: adoration that never ceases for your darling boyfriend, worry for what was going through his head and what he was going through, concern for what he might do in response to this horrible, heartbreaking news he just discovered, and patience in waiting to take care of him in any way possible. 

“How could I be so stupid?” Damon howled, raising his voice suddenly, standing in exasperation. You jumped slightly, but not enough for him to notice. “I mean, I really thought-” He paused, cutting himself off with a defeated chuckle. It was no use, he figured. Why grieve over someone who never grieved him? He’s spent his entire life doing so. Now that he knows the truth, there was no point in continuing. 

Damon bowed his head in defeat, sighing, and you gazed up at him with an expression of sweet sympathy. He stood there on the stair step, one hand placed on his hip and the other on the back of his neck as he contemplated. 

He looked up at you, then. You waited for his reaction, watched for his next move. What you didn’t expect, though, was when Damon descended the last few stairs and stopped in front of you. He gestured for you to spread your legs before he turned and placed himself between them. He reclined back to lay his head on your lap and you leaned back on one hand while guiding your fingers to brush through his hair comfortingly. 

“I’m sorry,” Damon apologized to you, gazing up into your eyes. Although, he had nothing to apologize for. “I didn’t know what to think when I heard she was alive. And when she told me she-” But you couldn’t let him go on. You could see the gears spinning in his head, the struggles and the negative thoughts. You knew what he was thinking. They were thoughts that were certainly not new to your empathetic ears, and they were thoughts that you always tried your hardest to apprehend, to keep them from his mind, to make sure he knew they weren’t true.

“Shh,” You placed your finger over his lips gently, locking eyes with a sweet smile. You brush your hand over his cheek, stroking your thumb over his forehead soothingly. “It’s okay, baby. I hate that you had to go through that. She had no right to do what she did. She was never meant to be a mother if she felt it was okay to leave behind such a precious little boy. But I need you to know that even when you feel alone, I will always be here. I will never leave you behind because I love you and I always will,” You smiled down at him. 

Damon didn’t think he could love you more than he did at this moment. He wanted to engrain this moment in his mind. He wanted to memorize everything about you because it was you that made this moment so special. You were so human, so mundane, the way you touched him so gently, the way you didn’t care about a single thing because all you wanted to do was make sure he was okay. He knew that with you, he would be. 

Damon flipped himself over and lifted himself up onto his hands and knees as he gently guided you to lay down beneath him. He moved up to hover over you, placing his hand on your cheek with the most love filled gaze in his eyes. He bent down and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips until you could feel all the love and appreciation he felt for you. 

“You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I hope you know that,” Damon chuckled sweetly, his forehead leaning against yours. Who knew he could be so soft?

Damon slid back down to lay between your legs again. He placed a kiss on your tummy before laying his head there, wrapping his arms around your waist. You tangled your fingers in his hair while Damon revels in the comfort he finds in your embrace. 

[dreamscapesofimagination]

Let Me Give You My Life

A/N: I'm so proud of this tbh pls love it. Posts may slow down (more lol). I’m studying for the GRE, and how well I do determines if I can get into the masters program I want to do, which then determines getting into medical school. I love the support I’ve been getting- likes, reblogs (seeing yalls tags on the reblogs makes me smile like a fool!) yall are the best!

Warnings: Cursing, Angst? Mams is insecure and possessive af but man does he ADORE you, confessions- Asmo and Lucifer are sick of y'all.

Summary: Diavolo throws a ball to celebrate some event that Mammon honestly couldn’t remember- especially not when he saw you.

—-----------

This was annoying.

Mammon had had plans tonight- a job. Sure, it was some low-budget modeling shoot for what were some hideous clothes, but still. It was going to pay well (way better than the clothes were worth, but thats because they wanted the Mammon- not some random, low-life demon)

And yet, here he was at this lame-ass ball Diavolo was throwing- commemorating some sort of success that Mammon frankly didn’t care about. Lucifer had made the attendance of the Student Council mandatory- threatening to hog-tie anyone who didn’t attend and leave them for Cerberus to toy with.

Mammon suppressed a shiver at the memory of the last time he had been subjected to that punishment. It had taken four showers and a bath to get all of the damned drool off of him- and he had needed to completely throw out his clothes.

Bastard. He glared at the back of Lucifer’s head, the elder across the room, deep in conversation with Barbatos.

Attendance was mandatory.

So where the hell was Asmo- and more importantly where the hell were you?

An ugly feeling reared its head in his chest as he thought of you sneaking around with his younger brother. Why would you be with Asmo, and not the Great Mammon?

“You know, glaring at him isn’t going to make his head explode,” Satan’s dry voice sounded from next to him, and Mammon shot a glance at the blonde demon.

“Maybe he’ll get the hint that making this mandatory was stupid. Does he not understand that some of us have better things to do?” Mammon griped.

Satan scoffed, “Sure, better to hustle money for debts you have no intention of paying back.”

Mammon’s frown deepened at his brother’s words. It never hurt less to hear how little his brothers thought of him- as if somehow his sin being greed made him lower than them. As if Asmo wouldn’t fuck anything that breathed near him, as if Beel hadn’t wreaked havoc due to his damn stomach, and as if Lucifer hadn’t damn near killed you due to his pride. Yet Mammon was somehow beneath them because he liked money and things? Bullshit.

He opened his mouth to shoot back a scathing retort about how actually he was going to use the money from the shoot to buy you the necklace that he had seen you eyeing at the jewelry store everytime he dragged you past it- but the gasps around the room pulled his attention to the staircase, and his jaw dropped.

Oh, you looked expensive. A shimmering gold dress clung to your form in all the right places (though you didn’t have any wrong places, a fact that Mammon would never say out loud).

Your thick thigh flashed from the dangerously high slit with every step down the staircase. He was faintly aware of Asmo behind you, but he knew that the attention of the room was on you, and not the demon of Lust.

That ugly feeling reared its head again when he saw Lucifer approach you, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand- no doubt with a stupid smirk on his face.

Mammon recognized the feeling, and it was much more in line with Levi’s sin than his own.

You shone more than the piles of Grimm in the bank vaults- and Mammon wanted nothing more than to steal you away and horde you to himself, like a dragon in the fantasy books you would ramble to him about. The dragons were the biggest thing he remembered, too lost in the sound of your voice to really process anything else. Besides, you said that his horns and wings reminded you of the dragons- something you had said with such a sweet voice that it was all he could do to not swoop in and kiss you.

And yet Lucifer was taking you to the dance floor, one hand wrapped around your waist.

Satan said something, but the blood rushing in Mammon’s ears muffled the sound, and when he received no response, Satan rolled his eyes and left.

Mammon wanted to approach you, steal you away from that smug bastard. But he didn’t, unable to summon the courage. Because if he did, then you would question him. If you questioned him, he would say the wrong thing- or worse, confess and face rejection from the one person in all the realms who has never looked at him with disdain.

Instead, he watched from the sidelines, snatching a flute of some sort of champagne off a waiters tray, downing it in a gulp.

After the song ended, you smiled brightly at Lucifer- a smile that should have been directed at Mammon. He watched you leave the ballroom, going out to the balcony.

“You planning on making a move? If not I’ll go see if she needs any company- after all she does look stunning in the dress I picked out,” Mammon’s gaze snapped to Asmo, whom he fixed with a glare.

“You keep your damn paws off of her- she’s my human,” he snarled. Amusement sparkled in Asmo’s eyes, and the younger laughed, “You’re lucky she only has eyes for you.”

Now that made Mammon stutter.

“Whaddya talking about?” he demanded.

Feigning ignorance, Asmo said, “maybe you should just go talk to her and stop being a moron- honestly, I love romance but at this point it is nauseating to see you two dance around each other.” With that, Asmo flounced off to chatter to some lower demon.

Mammon hated to admit it, but Asmo had piqued his interest.

Almost without his knowledge, his legs took him across the room, and he entered the balcony, carefully shutting the door behind him.

And you stole his breath away again, bathed in the faint light spilling through the windows, looking up at the stars.

You looked over your shoulder, flashing him a heart-stopping smile, “Mams! I was wondering when you were gonna come see me. The party isn’t as fun if I’m not with you.”

His cheeks burned at your words.

“We-well, I didn’t want to interrupt your dance with Lucifer,” he all but spat the Avatar of Prides name.

You giggled, “what? Are you jealous?”

Mammon rapidly shook his head, jamming his hands into his pockets as you turned to face him, leaning back on the railing.

His eyes shamelessly flitted over your form, and he imagined himself tearing into your soft flesh, burrowing a home inside your flesh where neither of you would know where one ended and the other began.

You raised an eyebrow, “You sure? I mean, I’d rather have danced with the Great Mammon, but he was too busy glaring daggers at his brother to make a move.”

You pushed off the railing, carefully approaching Mammon, who felt himself freeze in place.

All he could do was watch you, heart hammering in his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck- and damn your height because this provided Mammon a particularly entrancing view of the pendant nestled in your cleavage- the necklace he had wanted to buy you.

He dragged his eyes back to your face, seeing amusement in your sweet gaze.

“Lucifer said it was from you,” He watched your plump lips move.

He shook his head, mumbling, “Was gonna get it for you with the pay from the gig I had lined up.”

The fact that Lucifer had gotten to it before him caused a pit in his stomach- why would you choose Mammon if you could choose his responsible, reliable older brother?

“You’re so sweet, Mams. Thank you.”

His face burned- him? Sweet?

Your soft gaze was akin to a siren song, and it was all he could do to not fall into you.

Tilting your head, you spoke with a rosy blush on your round cheeks, “Mammon,” he would do anything to hear his name fall from your lips again, “I waited for you to say something, but I don’t want to wait any more. I want to be with you. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like you do. I just need to know if you feel the same. If you don’t we can just go back to being friends and I’ll never bring it up again-” you were cut off when he surged forward, lips slamming against yours as his hands settled on the swell of your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you close. He swallowed down the noise of surprise that left you, relishing the feeling of you melting into him.

He didn’t know how to avoid saying the wrong thing- but he could act.

You were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted- and he would fall from Grace a million times over if this is where he ended up. You, pressed against him, hands tangling in his white hair as your lips melded together, his hands digging into your softness, melting together until you were one.

The two of you broke away, and Mammon was sure you were an angel when he took in your flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and dazed eyes.

He pressed his forehead to yours, chest heaving as he sucked in the air- air he would be happy to never breathe again if it meant he never had to stop kissing you.

“I’m yours- have been since you first showed up.” his words were whispered, hands coming up to cradle your face, falling into your lips again- greedy for more, more kisses, more closeness, more you.

He would trade all the Grimm in the Devildom to keep you close- if he was a dragon from your fairytales then you were the treasure he would horde.

[worldly-fluster]

WARNING: ANGST

So. As I've said in Zayne's, I'm gonna make this one (or try anyway) very very much angst.

--Rafayel-- Part 4 of 4

Last but not least, Fishy.

This is gonna be a little different from the other three, there might be death, but in the end there will be some comfort. I can't have angst without a little comfort in the end or I feel big sad lol.

Rafayel-

•He could get used to this.

•Your smiles and laughs that seem to be for only him.

•You can match his jokes with your sharp tongue and funny humor. He adores when you give him that confident look paired with your hand on the hip and flick of the wrist.

•This is what he knew you could be.

•Not like how he found you.

•Never again. No more silence, stares into the void with no sparkly shine in your eyes. Blank and waiting for something.

•Oh if he got his hands on whomever did that to you before he met you...

•He loves that he can finally help you be yourself now, and always.

•Honestly he just wants to stay with you, but then you would have missions. Constantly.

•This time was supposed to be a normal mission. Like all the others.

•You told him a day, two at least. And you'll be back. You even gave him a bag of yours so you would have a reason to come back to him, instead of straight home.

•He waited for those two days. Before he got a message from Thomas.

•Thomas told him to look at the news, and what he saw made his skin wash in a cold sweat and his breathe leave him.

•It was the place of your mission, they were talking about the casualties and how many are yet to be recovered.

•They showed videos of the carnage. He felt sick.

•He called, texted, and yet no answer. It felt like a cruel prank, like a punch to the gut by the tail of a whale.

•Where were you, were you okay?...Maybe your bag that you left had something to help? He doesn't know why he thought that but he needed to do something other than panic.

•He refuses to believe you could be gone. Not again.

•He opened it and didn't find much, your favorite plushie, a large hoodie, a notebook, a plastic bottle full of sea shells and sand-wait the notebook? Maybe it has something right?

•He opened it to a random page and...wait...why...No. No.NoNoNo that can't be it.

•Why would you give him this? This is talking about how to help him feel better after you d- No, there has to be something else. Something he's not getting.

•You can't be, no way, not yet. You're supposed to grow old next to him. You can't leave him alone again.

•No way would you know-...wait, this is the bag you gave him every time you went on a mission like this...

•But there were times when you would just give him the bag for no reason- there has to be more to it right?

•He reads just a little more.

•What...he can't...he can't breathe, it feels like the weight of the ocean is on him again...

•He throws the book across the room and picks up his phone again and before he can call you again, his phone rings.

•Its you.

•He hardly lets the phone ring twice, only because of his initial shock, when he answers.

•"Where the hell are you?! You-! You need to-! I can't-! Why..."

•He can barely get anymore words out before he chokes on the words, his pearly tears streaming down his paler than normal face.

•"I-I need you...to come here. Now. Please."

•He hears your soothing sweet voice telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, you were already on your way when you called back.

•It feels like years to him before he hears you walking up to his door.

•He has it open before you can make it to the threshold. He's a mess, his hair all over the place, his clothes wrinkled and front slightly wet, his face a little puffy and red from tears.

•His shaky yet strong arms are around you in seconds.

•"You're not leaving me again. Not for work, missions, or just out with friends. I can't- won't let you out of my sight until the ocean dries up. And even then I can't stand it, you're not going anywhere..."

•You can see behind him over his shaking shoulder, the bag you left is on the floor opened. The notebook can be seen practically torn in half on the far side of the room.

•You have tears in your eyes as you realize he read it's content, there isn't any going back from that.

•You hug him back as you say, "I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly."

•He hugs you close to him for what seems like hours, breathing in your sent, feeling your warmth. Knowing that sooner or later he will have to let you go...but that can be later. Not now, he wishes never.

***😁 @an-ever-angry-bi ***

[toxicanonymity]

Hi!! Pls point me in the right direction if there’s been a similar ask already, but I’m recently obsessed with raider and also started my period today :// so I’m wondering how Joel would treat sweet pea on her period? Does he think it’s gross, does he still touch her on her period, does he let her have painkillers if she asks nicely, etc? Do you imagine her not even getting her period at all anymore from stress or malnourishment? Just a random thought I had :)

Raider Joel if you got your period

900 words, raider!Joel x f!reader.

SUMMARY/WARNINGS: this is mostly headcanon/kinda fluff I guess but brief angst and smut (period sex, oral m receiving), talk of sterility. Featuring Carter!

A/N: yeah, she doesn't have her period, from malnourishment or general conditions, like you mentioned, so if she got it I think it'd be a surprise to both of them. If this gets canonized I'll let y'all know but rn I don't wanna deal with tracking a period lol.

raider master list

Early one morning, when the sun is still rising, Joel has an arm wrapped over you and his hand creeps between your legs. He pulls you back into him, and his fingers slip between your thighs. You’re even wetter than usual, making him press his arousal into you with a quiet growl, and then, he can’t resist, he brings his finger to his mouth. Before he can taste it, he smells the familiar copper and his heart skips a beat. This all happens really fast: He throws the covers off you and sees a dark blotch smeared from when he pulled you into him. He backs up and lets you down onto your back. He says your name urgently, shakes your shoulder and hovers his cheek over your mouth to feel your breath.

As you begin to wake up, he remembers about periods and feels bad for making a big deal of it if that’s what’s going on. He cups your face and breathes a sigh of relief, but he still has to ask, “Are you hurt?”

You begin to stir awake. "You okay?" He asks. As you gain consciousness you register his wet finger on your cheek and put your hand over it. You feel how wet you are and squirm, then when you turn over to face him, you look down to reach down for the sheet and you see blood. It startles you, too. Then you register the familiar ache in your abdomen, and you never thought you’d *want* cramps but for some reason it makes you emotional to have it back.

You reflexively apologize, “Sorry, I think it’s just. . .it must be back,” you whisper. “My cycle.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay, right?” His heart rate is still elevated but he’s starting to calm down.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m sorry, it’s been gone for so-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

–

I think he’d do his best to take care of you but would need some guidance. He’d probably ask you what you need. As much of a big tough guy as he is he does take his role seriously in taking care of you so I imagine he’d run you a bath and tell you to wait there. Maybe he’d send Carter to try to find some pads lmao.

-

Joel would jog down the hill to the stash house to get Carter. Joel would almost rather Carter just stay with you guys, but someone's still gotta keep an eye on things. Carter would still be waking up when Joel barges in asking for help. Carter's like, "easy, what's goin' on?"

"She's bleedin', I need you to-"

"What happened, is she okay??"

"No, yeah, she's got," Joel awkwardly gesticulate as he explains, "She's got her cycle"

"Her period?" Carter breathes a sigh of relief and chuckles. "made it sound like life or death, man. Ya know they're s'posed to get it every month right?"

"Can ya find her somethin'?"

“Joel, I dunno anything about-”

“Carter, please–can ya figure it out?”

Carter swallows and looks around. “Yeah. Sure, boss.”

(I guess this falls under "other duties as assigned" - taking down human scarecrows, finding menstrual products)

–

And yes, Joel has the drug connections and might offer you pills if you feel bad, or even if you don't. He might even try to help by washing the sheets while you're in the bath and Carter is out trying to find supplies.

–

Sexually, Joel has no aversion to your period. But maybe you’re still self conscious of the mess at first. He’s pounding you from behind, and you’ve just finished coming. He moans deeply as you squeeze him with an aftershock.

“Joel,” you look back at him.

He grunts and sighs as he buries his length in you, a mess spreading in his pubic hair and between your legs. He pants, “yeah sweet pea”

“Can i swallow it”

“Can ya —”

“Please?"

He sighs, wanting to slam into you and spill it already, but thinking, ok whatever. He pulls out, lays back on the bed, and you lick him clean before he cums and you swallow. Seeing you do it is such a turn-on, it might become a thing he wants you to do.

–

And then after, you suggest, “maybe I should swallow all the time from now on.”

His brow furrows “Why?”

“If I can get my period, i can probably get pregnant." It goes without saying neither of you would consider that a good things in this world.

“oh,” he mutters, then he’s pensive for a moment. “that ain’t gonna happen, sweet pea.”

“how do you know? are you ... fixed?”

He's short, but his tone is gentle. “yeah, it just ain’t gonna happen okay?” You feel bad for accidentally stumbling onto something from his past, but feel relieved at the revelation.

“okay,” you whisper as you put your head on his chest. “sorry.”

“’s'okay, baby. 's'a good thing, ain't it."

"Yeah," you sigh. "really good."

—

We don't know exactly why she doesn't have it, either malnourishment and/or stress conditions could be viable, I've tended to HC malnutrition but if she were to get it, maybe that'd be a sign of kind of settling into a (relative to the situation) normal-ish life there. At least she started picking dandelion leaves and stuff and foraging for mushrooms, and maybe they found some produce like with the apples and pumpkins HC.

—-

---

he's snipped that's why he can't

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️

[taijuslegalwife]

Restart ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

chapter one.

imaginary friend!Baji x child! Reader

warnings: female reader, usage of female pronouns, bit of angst at the beginning, description of wounds/gore, fluff, rushed again lol

(e/c) = eye color (y/n) = your name

“I’m good, I promise.” 

Those were Baji’s last words before he tiredly shut his eyes for the last time. Almost immediately his senses focused on the way he started to feel himself slip quickly away from life, feeling his warm thick blood gush out of his gaping wound in his abdomen at an alarming pace. It pained him to be forced to listen to his friends mourn and weep for him as he felt himself die. He began to feel colder and colder despite so many warm hands holding him and attempting to squeeze some life back into his body. 

The last thing Baji ever had heard were sirens blaring loudly coming closer to his location and the sound of many men fleeing the scene; the feeling of one pair of hands letting him go was replaced by another who he almost immediately recognized as Kazutora’s. Baji sighed his last shallow breath before the darkness of death consumed him whole.

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

When Baji heard sounds of a child playing he immediately opened his eyes, expecting to see a flashback of his life. Instead he was met with the large doe-like (e/c) eyes of a little girl. Baji immediately was stunned at how friendly this strange little girl was when he didn’t even know her. His eyes lit up in pure shock as Baji hurriedly craned his head down towards his abdomen—where his stab wound should be, but he was met with no blood, no wound, no scar even. His hand felt around where he was stabbed but felt nothing, skin as smooth and perfect as if no harm had ever come to it. Baji didn’t even realize it but he had exhaled deeply, resting his worried hand back down onto his lap as a tentative smile crawled up onto his now relaxed face.

Baji then froze again and immediately drew his attention back to the mysterious little girl. Before he could stop himself he accidentally murmured out in a confused tone, “Who the hell are you?” The little girl took no offense to Baji’s rather aggressive word choice and instead happily giggled out, “My name is (y/n)! And you are Mr.Squiggles!!” 

Baji’s brows furrowed a bit as he sweat-dropped at his silly nickname this girl had given him. He blankly pointed to himself and laughed out, “Nah, that doesn’t sound like me. How about you call me by my real name? It’s Baji.” Baji doesn’t tell the random girl his first name since he didn’t expect to get close enough to her for this girl to be able to use it. She frowned for a bit before shuffling closer to him across the large fluffy pink rug resting on the brown wooden floors, grabbing hold of his hands and looking up at her new friend, “I guess I should use wrong names, huh? I hope you like being my first best friend..” He paused a bit awkwardly as the little girl grabbed hold of his cold ghostly hands; he softly eyed her for a moment before verbalizing his current thoughts bubbling inside him, “You do realize I’m dead right? I can’t be your friend.”

(Y/n) froze entirely while her large head slowly moved up as her large doe eyes focused on Baji’s face. She stopped moving entirely as she instead opted for staring at him with wide unblinking eyes and her knees tucked up to her chest as the little girl questioned him despite her increasingly pounding heart being all she could hear, “Are you haunting me? My mom talks about ghosts haunting houses all the time..” Baji’s breath stopped for a moment as he began to internally panic, not wanting the random child to begin crying. He moved his thin pale hand over to her—starting to gently stroke her hair like how his mother used to when he would throw a fit at her young age. He stopped talking for a moment as he only chose to speak when (y/n) looked more at ease with him, “Why would I haunt you? Didn’t you say I’m your friend?”

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

chapter 2

omg I hope this doesn’t flop this took forever to come up with!! Anywho let me know if you want to be a part of my tag list lol

REQUESTS FOR ONE-SHOTS/ HEAD-CANNONS ARE OPEN!!

╰┈➤ taglist: @fullmoonblood6 @petuniasmd @tr-mha-fan

[ghostfacd]

YOU’RE LOSING ME! — LUKE HUGHES

— “AND I WOULDN’T MARRY ME EITHER,”

pairing; slytherin!luke x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary; in which luke and yn are already dating, but his lack of care for their relationship is slowly making him lose her

genre; angst, miscommunication, hurt to comfort, fluff at end, hogwarts!au, black cat bf!luke + golden retriever gf!reader

author’s note; sorta part 2 to wanna be yours (you can read it before if you want for more context but it doesn’t have to be read if you don’t want to) ANYWAY, another slytherin!luke fic because i said so LOL i prob will be making this into a series filled with random imagines of him and our lovely hufflepuff yn 🫶 this fic is obviously based on “you’re losing me” by taylor swift so my fellow swifties, cry with me

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

“Luke you don’t get it,” you say, giving him a small glare. His eyebrows furrow at your harsh gaze, not sure why you were so upset.

“So what?” He asks, arms crossed like a child who didn’t get what they wanted, “what is the big deal here?”

“The big deal is you gave that girl your sweater!”

“She was cold YN,” Luke rubs his face tiredly, “it was nothing really, she was just shivering cold and I wasn’t going to be an asshat and let her freeze to death.”

“Jack was right there Luke,” you say, referring to the older Hughes brother who was sitting near the two of you during the Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff Quidditch match. The girl who Luke gave his sweater to was also from Slytherin, which made you even more insecure. What if Luke liked her better? What if they related to each other more?

What if?

“Jack was busy watching the game,” Luke sighs, throwing his hands desperately down to his arms, “you know what YN? You win, fine. I’m sorry I gave that girl my sweater. Happy?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, not appreciating the passive aggressive tone your boyfriend was using on you. With a quiet sigh, you brush past him, leaving the boy silent.

For once, you wished he would come chasing after you, apologizing and not letting you go until you guys were made up. But your boyfriend was Luke Hughes—and there was no way he would do such thing. It wouldn’t be Luke Hughes of him to do so.

The next few days are radio silent from Luke, who seems to have his focus on Quidditch much more than on you. It wasn’t like this was anything new; Quidditch was one of his top priorities, so much so that you wonder if he would pick it over you in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry Lukey,” you say as you find him inside the locker room. The other boys had all left, one of Luke’s friends, Mark, had patted you on the back and wished you a good luck.

Everybody saw the tension between you and the Slytherin star Quidditch player, but it was too awkward for anyone to mention.

He opens up his arms, letting you place your face into his chest. A few seconds later, he pushes you off gently, swinging his gym bag over his body.

“Slytherin’s having a party tonight,” he says as the two of you walk hand in hand. “Are you coming?”

“Depends,” you say, leaning closer to him, “am I invited?”

“Course you are baby,” Luke makes a stop, placing his full attention on you, “I’m sorry about yesterday okay? I really mean it when I say it was nothing between me and her. I didn’t even know she existed before the game, I only gave her the sweater because I wanted to be polite.”

You nod, hugging your boyfriend tightly as you tippy toe to place a kiss on his face.

When the sun set and the clouds were covered by the dark sky, you placed on your dress, a simple, but beautifully designed emerald green silk dress. You wanted to match with Luke’s house colors, which were a dark green.

As soon as you entered the Slytherin Common room, you were met with the smell of cigarettes and beer. In some corners, couples were making out, and in others, there was a group playing beer pong.

“Have you seen Luke?” You ask Mark, who happens to pass you as he tried to reach the alcohol.

“Oh—Luke?” He says that in such a tone that made you furrow your eyebrows deeply, wondering why he looked so guilty. “Yeah, uh, he’s in the main part of the common room.”

“Okay,” you say, starting to make your way there, but Mark pulls you back, giving you a gentle smile.

“How about you play some beer pong with us for a bit? It’ll be fun!”

You give him a small smile but shake your head. “It’s okay Mark, thank you for the invite,”

Mark sighs as he watches you go, hoping his best friend wasn’t doing anything stupid to make you cry again. He had seen the two of you fight endless amounts of time, mainly due to Luke’s stubbornness and his inability to be.. well.. good boyfriend.

Walking into where Mark said Luke would be, you could understand why he acted the way he did. There your boyfriend was, on one of the small couches, with a girl right next to him.

He was holding a red solo cup, a cliché that you’ve seen in muggle high school and college movies. She seems to keep rambling about something, giggling and twirling her hair as Luke looks the opposite direction, disinterested.

“Luke,” you say, your insecurities rising up once again.

Sure, Luke didn’t really give the girl the time of day, but she was extremely pretty, and seemed way more carefree than you were.

“You know her Lukey?” The girl asks, head leaning close to touch to his curls.

“I do,” he says, sitting up properly. “Cho, meet my girlfriend, YN.”

Cho smiles bitterly, “nice to meet you YN! I’ve heard soooo much about you.”

“Mhm,” you say, “nice to meet you too.”

“Well Lukey, I’m gonna go and say hi to Jack, see ya!” She hops off the couch, not before giving your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

He barely even flinches at this.

“Seriously?” You whisper out, anger fueling your body.

“What now YN?”

“You let girls be all over you and kiss you on the cheek now?”

“Oh my god, are we doing this again?” Luke stands up, discarding his solo cup somewhere in the common room. “Can we not have a good night YN?”

You scoff, “we can have a good night when I’m not treated like shit by you in this relationship, Hughes.”

Saying his last name felt like a blow to Luke’s face, making him more upset by each minute. “I don’t treat you like shit!”

“Yes you do!” You yell, exasperated. You watch as Luke tries to push his way past you, but you grab his arm, tightening your hold on him so he wouldn’t go. “Don’t you ignore me Luke!”

He looks down at your figure, his drunken daze almost fading when he sees how beautiful you looked. A green emerald dress on with your hair curled. You truly were the best thing at this party.

“Listen, I wouldn’t marry me either!” He spat out, “I told you this when we first began dating! That I was going to be a terrible boyfriend who isn’t good at comforting and communicating. You knew this right off the bat, YN! You know that I’m a pathological people pleaser!”

“I just wanted you to see me!” You cried out, tears now falling down you cheeks. “Yes, I knew what I was getting into—but all I wanted was for you to see me and love me Luke!”

Your breath hitches when you see Luke’s arm falling loosely off your grip, scared he was going to leave forever now.

Do something Luke, your brain screams. Say something.

He leaves the room, making you drop onto your knees. The pain you felt in your chest was overwhelming, accompanied by the seemingly endless tears.

Lose something, risk something Luke!

You don’t notice he re-enters the room until you feel arms wrap around you, carrying you to one of the large couches. Luke places you on his lap, a large tissue box in his hand. Using his free hand, he wipes away your tears, making sure to get the mascara that was dripping.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a soft kiss on your head. “I know I’m not a good boyfriend and that I do stupid shit—but I promise I love you—that I see you YN. I’m trying my best here, I’ve never had someone care for me as much as you and I guess I was just afraid of love,”

You don’t say anything, just holding onto Luke’s arms that were currently embracing you.

The two of you sit in silence for the next half hour, Luke never once letting go of you as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

“Just so you know,” you say, looking up to meet Luke’s teary eyes, “I would marry you. Regardless of you being shit at showing emotions.”

This makes him laugh as he hugs you tighter, mumbling another apology into your head.

“I would gladly marry you too baby.”