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lizzieisright · 2 months

Note

I’m so not normal about how you write alpha!abby I need more😩

Palestine: what can you do

Thank you for your req, I've missed writing alpha!abby it was so fun!(although this one is sappy)

Fri(end)s

alpha!abby x omega!reader

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, hurt/comfort, "alphas and omegas can be friends!!" delusion, they really stretch the definition of friendship. No full smut but they get horny.

Inspired by "Friends" by V.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

People say there's no such thing as a friendship between an alpha and an omega. You disagree.

People just need to embrace the inherent lust that comes with being friends with your opposite and you can be great friends. Instead of fearing to make everything awkward when you both smell your attraction, you should acknowledge it and laugh about it. Be each other's ego boosters. It's not that hard.

For example, you and Abby - you've been friends for years. It did start with Abby hitting on you, but she backed off immediately when you explained that you're not interested. Anyway, Abby stayed and asked to be your friend, and you agreed - Abby was cool and smart. It later became a running joke between the two of you where Abby'd jokingly hit on you just to get on your nerves or make you smile.

That's pretty much how you overcame the awkward barrier: you started being honest with each other about everything. You formed a bond so intimate between the two of you that people often mistook you for a couple. You didn't mind. It wouldn't happen anyway, since Abby was a player.

You had no idea how many omegas Abby's fucked in her lifetime, but you rarely saw the same omega twice. Abby kinda had a reputation around campus. She was aware of it, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault her dick was good. And listen, Abby wasn’t an asshole, no one could catch her disrespecting omegas or talking who and how and when she fucked. People just knew. Well, it was hard not to know when her partners reeked of her after, but the point stood - Abby was a lady, not a prick when it came to privacy.

She fucked omegas that no one would believe to even have such dirty thoughts/time to fuck around/ability to feel sexual attraction or whatever reason insecure incel alphas kept telling themselves - and Abby always stayed discrete if omegas asked her too. Because that was how you got pussy, you fucking morons, not by insulting and being entitled.

So Abby didn’t care that she had a reputation - she only cared if her partners felt safe and enjoyed themselves, and as long as it stayed this way, Abby was happy.

And you knew all of this, because you were her best friend. She told you all of it during one night when you were drinking wine and you asked her about how she felt about her reputation.

Then Abby asked about your deal, and you honestly told her that you didn't know: you loved the touch and flirting but you felt like you didn't have space for relationships. That you haven't met anyone yet who'd make you want to make an effort - of course Abby joked about her being the one and you laughed.

“Well, if I ever need help, I'll come to you.” You winked and Abby laughed as well.

It was easy between the two of you to what some would say, an alarming point where the boundaries of friendship became blurry.

It wasn't a rare occurrence when you'd be at a party, pleasantly drunk, and then after what felt like an hour of dancing, you'd find Abby, sitting somewhere and sipping her whiskey, looking unapologetically hot in her muscle tee and jeans, and you'd get onto her lap, hugging her neck while she'd support your weight by grabbing your thigh. Her scent would get stronger and you'd smile into her shoulder, teasing her. Sometimes, of course, you'd find Abby with another omega already, her hands exploring and grabbing her partner, and you'd grin and go do something else. You always expect yourself to be upset, but strangely, you never are - Abby is your friend and you're happy she is getting some.

Tonight is a little different. You're sleepy and horny and overall, want to feel someone's warmth and touch. So you find Abby and straddle her. She doesn't even lift a brow, just holds you by your waist and keeps you safe. Abby smells your arousal and chuckles, but you stick your tongue out.

“I fucking hate being an omega.” You say and start playing with Abby's hair while she is caressing your back. It's soft and cosy despite you being all horny. It's not flirty, it's not subtle: you two just love being close, and Abby radiates her presence, making everyone look away in fear of challenging her. Abby locks her arms behind your back and you arch into her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna fuck so bad.”

Abby laughs and looks at you with her red eyes: she can't control it when she is drunk and has you on her lap. Abby smells your scent and smirks, her canines growing longer, her presence getting stronger, scaring other alphas away.

“Well, you know I'm always available for you.” You smack her on her shoulder and Abby laughs.

“Don't fucking tease me, bitch.”

“We can make out if it'd make you feel better.” Abby shrugs. You think for a second.

“Yeah. Let's make out. I bet you're a good kisser.”

“Five stars reviews, baby.”

You laugh, but Abby is already cupping your cheek and guiding you down to her level so she can kiss you. You go pliant when her warm lips touch yours: Abby is a good kisser. She is slow and gentle, but you feel the power and control behind her movements. She is holding you with one arm on your waist while she is grabbing your neck with the other one, her thumb stroking your jaw.

It doesn't feel like you two are toeing on some kind of line you're not allowed to cross: it feels natural and normal, like you've done it a million times before. Maybe you feel this way because Abby is confident and knows what she is doing, but she also doesn't push you further. You're just lazily making out, her warm tongue is on top of yours, exploring your mouth. It feels good.

You feel Abby getting harder under you and you grind against her crotch just to be a little shit, and she stops kissing you.

“And I'm a tease?”

“I love seeing you suffer.” You grin and Abby kisses you again, holding your hips down so you won't be able to grind anymore.

It's affirming, it's an ego boost: you love seeing Abby, hot and amazing alpha, being so weak around you. Abby loves knowing she is the only one who you allow to touch you - loves smelling how horny she can get you. So you keep making out and talking for the rest of the night, existing in your own little bubble. It’s beautiful.

After, Abby takes you home and you cuddle in her bed before you fall asleep, Abby's strong arm pulling you close, her hair making a cloud of her scent around you, keeping you safe and protected.

In the morning you wake up with her hard cock pressing into your thigh and you sigh - you want to sleep more, not being humped by a sleeping alpha. Abby shifts and grinds against you in her sleep, and your cunt throbs: you've never been so close to an alpha who is aroused. New experience, but this is Abby, and you want to fucking sleep.

You just shake her shoulder and she grunts, unhappy.

“Come on, Anderson, you have a morning wood.” You tell her, still sleepy. Abby shifts and turns on her back, taking you with her so your head is on her chest and if you could've been bothered and opened your eyes, you'd have seen the outline of her cock under the covers.

But you go back to sleep.

So this is how your friendship is: you're so close there's almost no boundaries between you. You're not afraid to smell horny around Abby and you feel good about yourself when you smell her being horny about you. You're never upset about her hookups and she doesn't growl at every alpha who looks your way. It's perfect.

The smell of love comes early into your friendship, and you both tease each other about it, “can't believe you love me it's so embarrassing”. Abby is your closest friend and you love her, and you two are proof of an alpha and an omega capable of being friends.

You're comfortable with each other to the point where you complain about your cycles and how fucking horny and unsatisfied you both are during this time: usually it's you who complains because Abby fucks through her ruts. You always tease her about smelling like her lucky omega, but Abby just smirks, still rut high. She looks deliciously dangerous after her rut and the smell of attraction grows stronger between the two of you. Usually Abby’d invite you for a bottle of wine after her rut ends and your drunk makeouts would get more passionate too, since Abby wouldn't hesitate to grab and knead your ass, making you grind on her cock. This is the only time when you let awkwardness fill the room: Abby doesn't control herself and you have to stop her before it goes too far.

(This is the only time when your heart flutters and your hopes rise. This is the only time that threatens to ruin your perfect friendship.

You know if you sleep with Abby, you'll never be friends again. You'll get territorial about her, and Abby doesn't need it - it's a question of incompatibility between the two of you.

So you stop her.)

But the universe doesn't like anything that is perfect - it's against her nature. The balance is in imbalance, and it tries to restore itself.

For the last few months your heats have been getting worse - you’re stressed, you can’t sleep and you feel like shit. Your mood swings start to get worse as well - if before you’d just get a little sad and then fall down into the horny fog of a heat, now your mood stays longer in the sad space. It’s tiring.

And this heat hits you very hard. You're not horny, you're in pain and sad and it's hard to maintain your mind. You wish you were just horny - you could just bury your nose in Abby's hoodie that she always lends you before your heat and you'd keep fucking yourself until the heat wave would pass.

You do bury your nose in Abby's hoodie, but it makes you cry even more. You feel so alone and so useless, like no one truly needs you and you'll never find your happiness, like you're bound to die alone. It's terrifying and makes you sob, and you can't be bothered to be horny because what's the point of it if you will be alone all your life?

Abby:

u ok?

You scramble to your phone and cry harder: Abby cares. Abby knows about your last struggles with your heats and she checks on you. You're not alone.

So you call her.

“Doll, I'm not doing phone sex-” Abby says jokingly, but then she hears you sob loudly. “What happened?” Abby's voice shakes. “Where are you? Fuck, talk to me-”

You take a big breath before Abby'd worry herself into an early grave.

“I'm fine. I'm home.” You sniff. “I just- It's so bad, Abby.”

“Are you hurt?” Abby is still worried.

“No. It's a mood swing.” You cry again, feeling so broken. “I feel so fucking alone. And you texted me and I- sorry, fuck.” You wipe your tears and hug her hoodie, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You feel ridiculous - you know it’s your hormones talking.

“Hey, I'm here.” Abby says, trying to soothe you, but you cry harder.

“What if I end up alone? What if I never meet my person? I spend all those fucking heats alone and it's so hard, and I can't think of doing it for the rest of my life all by myself.” You fall into another fit of sobs. Abby is silent for a moment.

“I'm coming over.” Abby says, dead serious, and you suddenly sober up.

“I'm in heat, Abby, you can't come over!” You sit on your bed, worried.

“I don't fucking care! You're hurting and you're alone, I can't let this happen.” You hear Abby rustle around. “Can you do something for me while I'm on my way?”

“I can try.” You say without any hope.

“Go drink some water and take a shower. And send me some pics so I know you did it, okay?”

“I'm so not sending nudes, Abby.” You chuckle without any bite. Abby huffs.

“Go drink your water.” Abby ends the call and you stare at your phone for a second.

You try to keep yourself together - you send Abby pictures of an empty glass and a hem of a towel when you're done, but it takes five minutes before your mood swings again. You shake and try to breathe through another spiral into hell, but it's so fucking hard. You get to the point where you start rocking back and forth like an anxious child, trying to self-soothe. You feel like you're in some kind of trance until you hear your doorbell.

You fly to the door before your dam would break: you open the door to Abby who's panting loudly - she probably ran up the stairs.

It takes a second for both of you to comprehend the situation before Abby throws everything on the floor and scoops you in her arms, and you break, sobbing into her chest and clinging to her shoulders. Abby's scent soothes you, protectiveness radiating from her while she holds you tight and kisses your head.

“I'm here.” She murmurs and you cling to her harder. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe.”

It takes five minutes of breathing Abby's scent for your hormones to calm down. You sniff before moving away, but Abby doesn't let you, still holding you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You say honestly and Abby lets you go.

Her eyes are red and she tries not to breathe too much, and you feel ashamed - she got here to comfort you but you stink of heat. Of course Abby reacts to it, she can’t help it, and now she will be stuck between taking care of you and taking care of you. It’s unfair to her.

“I will take scent blockers.” You turn to go to the kitchen, but Abby stops you, gently holding your bicep.

“No. It's not the heat. It's the hurt.” You wince: you know it's hard for alphas to smell hurt on omegas. “And I have pretty good self-control.”

You chuckle and let Abby take her shoes off. She is in joggers and her favourite hoodie, looking cosy and comfortable. You want to cuddle her, and this is exactly what Abby does. She makes you drink another glass of water, feeds you a banana and takes you to your bed.

Abby stops when she sees her hoodie on your bed like she didn't expect you to actually use it. (Like she totally doesn't use your hoodie when she is too sad to find a rut buddy). But Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs you to the bed, enveloping you in her arms and her scent. It's warm and beautiful and you bury your nose in her skin.

You don't talk. Abby caresses you and kisses you head from time to time while you get upset again.

“I fucking hate being an omega.” You sniff. Abby presses you closer, her scent gets stronger, reacting to your distress. “There's something wrong with me, I swear.”

“You're perfect.” Abby murmurs and you blink your tears away.

“It's so hard, Abby. It's unbearable. With every heat I get more worn out and upset.” You cry quietly. “I will go on suppressants, I don't want to suffer like this anymore.”

Abby swallows. Suppressants are no joke, they ruin people’s health - that’s why they’re taken in emergencies. For everything else there’s scent blockers that don’t disturb cycles and don’t put people in danger.

“We will figure it out. We will get you back into normal horny heats and you’ll complain about it to me, I promise.”

It soothes you and you fall asleep, your scent slowly changing to your usual love scent, the one that Abby loves the most.

Abby knows that sometimes omegas go through their cycle with a lot more pain than normal, but seeing you, the fucking light of her life, suffer like this is torture. She’d honestly prefer to hold herself back from fucking you because you’re in heat, and not wipe your tears while you tell her how scared you’re of ending up alone.

Abby watches your calm face and caresses your cheek. If you only knew.

“I’ll always be here.” Abby murmurs, knowing you won’t hear her. “I’m yours.” She kisses your forehead.

When Abby moves away she is met with your wide eyes.

Her heart stops. You’re silent, lost for words, but something starts happening: your scent gets stronger and Abby can see golden sparks as your eyes start to change colour.

“Fuck.” You sigh. Your chest gets tighter and your cunt starts pulsing with need. “Ab-”

Abby kisses you roughly, pressing your head into the pillow and she shoves her tongue into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist, and now you’re lost in her scent and touch, arching and whimpering into her mouth. It feels amazing, you’re soaking your pants while you cling to Abby and relax under her, submitting to your alpha. You’ve never felt so good during your heat and you want more. You buck your hips into Abby and she grinds her cock on your pussy, making you shudder and moan. The kiss gets messier, there’s a lot of spit on your chins, but you don’t care - you want Abby closer, you want her in you, stretching you on her cock, knotting you.

“Abby-” You moan into her mouth and Abby growls. “Fuck me, please.”

Abby growls louder and licks your neck, her canines brushing against your skin and you whine, desperate. But then Abby stops kissing you neck, stops moving and her grip on you eases.

“Fuck.” Abby sighs into your neck. She smells how worked up and desperate you are, and she has to fight herself to not fuck you right now. “You’ll regret it. I’m not going to hurt you like this.” Abby rasps and your heart breaks.

You feel rejected and the smell of hurt fills Abby’s nose. She looks at you and her heart breaks from seeing you cry, knowing she did this. You can’t just reject an omega during their heat - it messes them up and then they won’t be able to keep you in their lives after, too hurt and ashamed.

“I want to, doll.” Abby tries to console you. “I really fucking want to, but I need you to be sober before we do anything. Look at me.” You obey and Abby kisses your tears. “I promise you, if you agree to this when this wave subsides, I’ll do whatever you need me to. For now we can keep kissing.”

It makes you feel better and you nod, tugging Abby down to kiss her again. You still are very horny and Abby has to pin your hips so you won’t grind against her, but you want to cum and you keep squirming under her while Abby tries to slow down the pace of your kiss. She is so gentle and careful, and eventually you melt and relax, the heat wave going away. It takes a solid twenty minutes of kissing and Abby holding you down before your head gets clearer. You break the kiss and sigh, relieved you’ve finally got a break. Abby looks like she has everything under control and she totally didn’t have to fight you and herself so you wouldn’t make a mistake. Her scent though tells you how much she has to restrain herself - it’s thick and heavy, aggressive, domineering. Abby didn’t lie when she said she wants to fuck you as much you want her to fuck you, and it makes you hormone-crazy heart feel better.

“You weren’t lying when you said you have amazing self-control.” You murmur and brush Abby’s hair out of her face. Abby chuckles.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I’m not all sex crazy right now, if this is what you are asking.” You keep caressing Abby’s hair. She blinks a few times, but the red doesn’t leave her eyes. “Thank you for handling this so well.”

Abby smiles and kisses your cheek. The question hangs in the air.

“I’m-” You take a deep breath full of Abby’s pheromones and it messes with your head, but you try to find the right words. You don’t want Abby to feel rejected too. “I’m not ready to spend my heat with a partner.” I won’t be able to let you go if we do this.

Abby does smell of regret, but she smiles at you.

“Of course. But call me if you get upset again. I don’t want you to be alone.”

You nod and walk Abby out, kissing her goodbye. You lock the door after her and sigh, knowing what is ahead.

You spend three days fucking yourself to a memory of Abby saying I’m yours.

Only after you’ve recovered and got back to yourself you’re hit with a realisation that Abby actually told you she is yours. You try to find a way to justify her words, to connect it with your friendship and how close you two are, but even your levels of almost no boundaries can’t create a good excuse.

You were not meant to hear her. She thought you were asleep. It was her secret.

So Abby didn’t say it to make you feel better or trick you heat-brain into calming down - her scent and touch already did it. There was no reason for her to say it unless she fucking meant it. You don’t know what to do. You never thought Abby’d be interested in something like an actual relationship with you.

Your perfect friendship was built on two opposing facts: Abby is a player, and you’re fine being alone until you meet your person. And now you’re not fine being alone because deep down you know she is your person, and Abby said she is yours without wanting you to know.

You feel like you’re going crazy. You’re terrified of any awkwardness that will inevitably come with this whole ordeal. You know you won’t be able to hide your uncomfortable, shaking discovery from Abby - she is your best friend after all, she will know something is up with you.

You manage to act normal for a week without Abby getting suspicious - you two are still flirty, but now when Abby touches you, you feel like she sets you on fire with how your cheeks burn. Now there’s a hidden meaning behind her touch - the one you were not supposed to know.

The song on the radio makes you break.

Abby is driving you two to the Korean restaurant she found and wanted to show you, and you two sit in comfortable silence - Abby is focused on the road and you stare out of the window, taking the view of this part of the city, when this song comes on the radio.

You're in my head / I had plans for the weekend / But wound up with you instead / Back here again / Got me deep in my feelings / When I should be in your bed

Your cheeks burn. It is a weekend and Abby spends time with you, taking you, her best friend, to the restaurant. Does she want to be in your bed?

You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-

You breath hitches. This song is stripping you of any kind of pretence. Your smell changes and Abby looks at you for a second.

Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just remembered something.” Abby hums and doesn’t ask you further.

Friends are not supposed to get too close / And feel emotions that / We're feeling now, now, now / We ain't slowing down, down, down / But once we cross the line / There's no denying you and / I can never turn around, 'round, 'round / Know we'll never be the same

You take a shaking breath when you think back to your heat, begging Abby to fuck you. Yes, you will never be the same. But you have a choice to make.

“This song is about us.” You chuckle nervously.

“Really? Sorry, I didn’t pay attention.” Abby laughs, but starts to pay attention now, while you wait for the traffic light to turn green.

Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends

Abby clears her throat. She doesn’t joke or flirt - she understands.

“Yeah. It is about us.”

Abby doesn’t say anything more, but her scent gets a little spicy - she is nervous as well. You also don’t say anything - she is driving, after all. Not the time for this conversation. It’s the first time in your friendship when there’s so much thick, nervous tension between you.

Abby parks the car and you just sit for a moment, feeling like you need to talk about it right now. Abby clears her throat again.

“So do you want to put the "end" in friends?” Abby asks quietly, not knowing why did you bring it up - do you want to stop being friends or do you want to be something more?

You chuckle, endeared by Abby’s nervousness - she is always confident and calm, you’ve never seen her like this.

“You told me you’re mine.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers. You’re scared to cross this line and change everything, but you want to. “It made me happy. And very fucking confused, because- You know what I mean.” You cringe - you’re not going to include Abby’s sex life in your confession. “Were you serious about it?”

Abby lost any filter right after she heard “it made me happy”, so she just bursts, spilling all her feelings for you.

“I’m in love with you. I wanna marry you and have a fucking picket fence and a dog and two and a half children with you.” Abby says while her scent becomes ten times stronger with love. “You’re the one for me.”

You blink your happy tears away and look at Abby’s face, full of love and devotion.

“Maybe we should start with a date?”

Abby smiles and takes your face into her hands, kissing you with so much love you can swim in it.

“A date sounds good.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #player!abby who is whipped for the reader? my favourite fucking trope

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abbysdruidess · 1 year

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you ever see those tiktoks of ppl making to-go meals for their wives working at hospitals? i wanna do that for abby so badly 🥺 (i've seen some hcs of her being an orthopaedic surgeon and I think thats real af)

thank you for this anon<3 I was kind of in a writers block so this helped s a lot-send me more asks about my babygirl, my delightful wife.

l̳u̳n̳c̳h̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳c̳h̳a̳m̳p̳i̳o̳n̳s̳ | modern au smut

wc: 1.3k (my longest!!)

tags: fluff, smut, domesticity, reader gets head for cooking for her wife(not that she wasn't getting it anyway), Abby eats it the whole damn thing on the kitchen counter

a/n: this is in the form of headcanons with a smut drabble in the end-lmk what you guys think<33

❦ I feel like in a modern au Abs would definitely choose a field that requires a lot of hard work(cause in the game also she overworked herself), so she's either a doctor or a construction worker(;)). I feel like she wouldn't want to choose to be a neurosurgeon like her father, bc as much as she admires his work, she doesn't want to be compared to him and she grew up with it, she wants something different. So her going into orthopaedics seems pretty reasonable.

❦ As for the lunch thing, I could totally see you making her lil lunches<3 She is careful about what she eats cause she wants maintain her muscled appearance, so she doesn't really go for the cafeteria food. Therefore, you make a habit of cooking food for the wife™️ every day. I imagine you getting one of these cute bento boxes and cook her some chicken, rice and salad the night before and set it up all cute<3

❦She'd always love it when you cook her food from your culture/country of origin also🥺because baby loved everything about you and wants to feel closer to you any chance she gets. In my country there's a lot of emphasis on fresh, unprocessed food so I imagine you growing a little garden outside your kitchen with fruits and vegetables, the works.

❦ Don't forget about dessert also-cooking a big tray of something like brownies or a batch of cookies on Sunday nights and put in on her lunch box with a note that goes like "finish your vegetables before you devour dessert!" or "eat lunch first, dear<3" . Bonus points if you kiss the note and get lipstick all over it.

❦ Maybe a coworker of hers notices one day(probably Manny cause he's the only one able to confront her about it) and goes up to her with a shit eating grin while she's eating it like "Damn doc, maybe that wife of yours can cook me up a lunch or too like yours sometime. She forgot to draw a heart on your brownies though." And normally if it was someone else she'd be pretty pissed off, because HOW DARE THEY mock the lunch her amazing, breathtaking wife worked so hard to make. But it's Manny so she knows he's just fucking around. SO Abby's like "Oh shut up Manny. You're just wish you had a girl who wants to make you lunch every day."

❦And truthfully she's extremely grateful for it, it's one of those things that reminds her why she married you, you care for her so much and cooking for her shows you look after her in one of the most vital, intimate ways possible. In the end of the week, once she comes home from work and sees you cleaning dishes in the sink, she walks up to you, leaving her little lunch box on the counter and wraps her big, beefy arms around you, while she whispers in your ear.

"I didn't thank you for lunch this week. I loved the cookies a lot.", and you can feel her breath slightly tickling your ear, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

"It's alright Abs, I like making you food. You need to stay fit, big girl.", you respond, while you turn around and run your hands down her biceps.

"Hmm, thank you so much for caring about my health babe, or maybe you just like that your wife is packing such heavy guns under her shirt, huh?" she teases. You can't deny though, you love her figure. You can feel her hands on your hips as she tenderly lifts you on the counter, and you sigh happily.

"Yes Abby" you roll your eyes. "I'm soo thankful I have such a strong wife. It is quite beneficial at times.". Your hands ride up her shirt, cupping her firm, silken breasts. She exhales all wobbly, you know how sensitive her breasts are. But you know your little game won't last long.

She doesn't respond, just leans her face into yours so your noses bump and smiles. She quickly makes light work of your shirt, tossing it on the floor and goes for the button in your jeans next, as you help her by raising your hips off the counter. In one flawless motion, she has removed both your jeans and underwear, tossing them off with your shirt. Once the bare skin of your ass makes contact with the marble of the counter you shiver, and Abby brings her girthy palms to rest under your buttocks, warming up the skin there and slightly groping it.

"Lemme thank you for lunch. You are always so good to me. My pretty, little wife". She raises one of her hands and gently runs her pointer finger where your folds part, making you gasp. Your hands reach to her behind and cup her firm ass. "Alright." you whisper into her ear, as your eyes roll in the back of your head.

She then kisses a line from your jaw to your belly button, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses where the drool from her mouth remains visible on your skin. You could only wish it would imprint on it, immortalising Abby's passionate mouth loving on your body. You shudder as you feel her delicately kissing your pussy, rubbing her tongue on your feminine lips as if she was making out with them. Her tongue teases the sensitive flesh, as the nerves in the most sensitive part of your body are abused by this wonderful, wonderful woman. You let out small, staccato moans, and your hands reach the flesh of your breasts, cupping them and toying with them deliciously. Abby continues the barrage on your cunt, licking up your clit as the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of sopping flesh.

You sit there, helpless but to take it, as you feel the coil inside you tightening up from the lovely tongue of your wife. You suddenly feels as though a band has snapped, and you are overcome with heavenly, internal bliss as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Abby guides you through it, leaving soft kissing on your cunt and whispering "That's it baby, come like a good girl". Once it stops, you can feel her rising up to kiss you, her tongue rubbing yours in small circles as she lets you taste your salty tang.

"Mmm" you let out a soft giggle. "I'm so grateful I have such a caring attentive wife.", and she makes you gasp as she her fingers come up to your sensitive folds, dipping her hands into your hole and spreading your juices all over your inner thighs. You let out soft moans at the overstimulation but allow her to continue the assault on your cunt nonetheless, as she thumbs you clit gently, watching it twitch in between your legs.

"Damn right you are, baby. Wanna take this to the bedroom?" She leans into you and leaves a kiss on your ear lobe. "I'm not through with you yet." you don't reply just yet, because you know she still wants to have a go at you, and she will no matter what. You grumble a small yes at her as she picks you up bridal style and moves you to the bedroom, kicking your discarded clothes out of her way.

What could she say? Abby lives to please you, and you live to please her. And both of you are thankful for having each other to help whenever, whether that is with lunch and everything the other person needs.

whoaah, who wrote that🤔anyways, lmk what you guys think of it and ofc send me more asks abt Abby<33

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons

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highhhfiveee · 7 months

Note

Mike x reader, with reader who works long hours during the daytime and Mike working at night which results in them barely having time to see eachother besides from dinner and bedtime

oh, you wanted angst fr 🥲 i think it could go either way, but honestly angst is what stood out to me first. i’m going to make this sadder too, just because i can 💜

to crumble (mike schmidt x reader)

tags/warnings: angst, pain, prescription drug mentions, fluff and cuteness in the beginning but not for long. mike fucks up, reader picks up his slack. things just don’t work! let me know if i missed anything! mndi.

this is long, sorry ;-; there are also probably a million errors in this, please ignore 💜

part 2 here: 🏳️

all i can think ab is the unbearable pain that replaces the love in your hearts as time goes on.

you’ve been together for half a year. things were fun at first, but once you decide to move in to help with abby, you start to see the cracks in the foundation.

in this one, reader works two jobs (bc let’s face it, this is unfortunately realistic); teaching from 9-4 and cashiering from 5-8:30. mike doesn’t want you working two jobs and you didn’t want to, but you knew that your salaries combined wouldn’t keep you afloat. abby’s school is expensive, and so is everything else in life. the extra money you get from cashiering gives you guys flexibility.

every morning at 6:30, monday to friday, you wake up alone. even though you know it’ll probably be empty, you still reach your arm over to run it over mike’s side. it’s always cold and flat, completely untouched.

you brush this off at first; it's one of the things that comes with him working overnight and you know he needs this job so that he can keep abby. you want that for him and know that love is sacrifice.

you wake abby up and start getting her ready in between fixing yourself up; brushing her teeth while you brush yours, letting her get a few more minutes of sleep in while you throw on your clothes, guiding her through packing her bag while you make breakfast. by that time, closer to 7:30, mike is finally walking into the house.

his eyes are hooded and surrounded by dark bags and you can tell he's exhausted from the way he hangs his things up lethargically. he kisses abby, who's running around collecting things, on the head, then ambles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing along your neck.

they're soft, gentle actions that make you forget about not being able to do things like this at night. it doesn't matter when you have mornings with him, even if it's only 30 minutes before you have to go. you giggle and reach a hand up to his cheek, kissing him on his other one.

"missed you," you whisper.

"missed you too," he mumbles back, planting a kiss on your lips before stalking away to ask abby something.

you all eat breakfast together, and then you're slipping abby's coat over her shoulders before you put on your own. you usher her to the car and give mike one last kiss before you leave, a deep one that you hope he feels all day. when you pull away, you can see the affection sparkling in his eyes, low and tired but expressive nonetheless.

"i love you," he whispers, his sleepiness masquerading as love-drunkeness.

"i love you, mike. get some rest, okay?"

you drop abby off, wishing her well, before you're alone for the next 12 hours. it often drags. at your teaching job, you feel as if it's just passing you buy in waves, everything whizzing past you at light speed. you're aware that you're in front of the kids, but then you just blackout. you're thrown into autopilot, and you do this over and over until your lunch break at 1. you text mike to pass the time.

sometimes it's something silly, like "god i do not get paid enough" or "a kid just ate glue /: send help", to which mike will respond "😂😂😂" or "lol you deserve millions (:". he makes you laugh, and it's enough to help you push through the end of the day.

he picks up abby from school, asking her all about her day and what she wants for dinner. he'll text you what she says so you know what to expect when you get home, like "meatloaf 🍖🍞 (:" or "chicken alfredo 0: fancy".

for you, transitioning from teaching to customer service was easy; all you had to do was maintain that same autopilot: smile on, eyes alert, prepared for anything. no one suspected a thing when you could keep up and answer their questions.

mike helps abby with her homework, scratching his head with the eraser of a pencil when he draws blanks on a math or history question. abby only sighs, telling him about something off-topic. "art class is much more interesting."

mike starts dinner while you're closing up at work, sweeping the front end of the store and counting down your drawer. he lets abby help sometimes, and they usually have it ready for you by the time you're home at 9.

abby meets you at the door, and you hug her tight, picking her up and waltzing her back into the house. mike is setting the dining table, greeting you with a sleepy smile and, "the queen has arrived."

you all sit down and eat, and it's another one of those moments where everything feels okay. the last 12 hours didn't matter when you were able to have this at the end of it.

you tell abby and mike about your day over spaghetti, spilling details about prideful parents and spiteful customers. abby laughs all throughout, asking questions about being a cashier. mike just listens, eyes and heart floating between the two of you.

you clear the table while mike goes to get ready for work, and a wash of dread passes over you. your brain knows what's happening next. you'll kiss him goodbye, clinging to his hoodie sleeve for a second longer than you should, and then you'll settle down with abby, bathing her and reading her to sleep. then you'll be alone. it will just be you and the screech of infomercials until midnight, and then you'll be off to sleep, snuggling into a pillow that smells like mike.

you push the feeling away, shaking your head and hands and doing just as you know. there's the kiss, the night routine with abby, and the moment you sit on the couch, surrounded by tv light and the croaking of cicadas.

mike doesn't text during his shift unless it's an emergency. it makes you sad, but you understand. security requires focus, and you require sleep.

for a while, this works. it's what you and mike have to do to make ends meet, and while you both think that it'll only get better with more time at it, it doesn't.

you still wake up alone and go through the same rhythm, but when mike comes in around 7:30, it's not 7:30 anymore. it's 7:39, then 7:45, then 7:58. the latest he's ever been, so late that you're not able to eat with him. he shrugs it off when you mention it, kissing your cheek and retreating to the bedroom to sleep.

you drop abby off as usual, and go to work. work. work. work.

mike starts missing your lunch break texts, sometimes dozing dangerously close to when abby's school lets out. while your class works, you bitterly stare at your text conversation. your unanswered "shaping america's future is kinda sick" message stares back at you until it's replaced by abby's school calling. your heart drops to your stomach as you step out of the room to take the call, answering the phone with, "is she okay?"

mike didn't pick her up. she's out at 2:30 and it's 3:30 now, and she's crying and scared because he didn't pick up the phone, and she always calls him first.

you leave work in a flurry, asking a fellow teacher to take over, and you speed to abby's school, not caring about tickets or police or anything. you only want to get her home.

mike is dashing out of the door when you pull up, wrenching a sobbing abby out of your backseat and clutching her close. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes, smoothing her hair and looking up at you with regret etched into every feature on his face.

you try your best to hide your upset, ushering everyone inside before changing into your work clothes. you were going to be late, but you shake it off. abby was home and that was all that mattered.

"hey," mike reaches out to you when you're on your way out. his fingers graze their way down to your hand, and it makes you wish that you could stay home. "thanks for that. i've just been super tired lately and i overslept and---"

"it's okay, baby," you give him a tight lipped smile and a kiss on the knuckles. "just don't let it happen again."

it happens again. and again. and again. it happens so many times that abby starts to think mike is forgetting about her, and you don't know how to get that out of her head. she cries about it more and more with each time you have to pick her up. he stops running out to apologize, still asleep inside.

you rush into the bedroom. he's splayed out over the bed, snoring loudly with his arm hanging over the side. you find an orange pill bottle on his nightstand. an old ambien prescription.

you argue with him before work sometimes.

"what do you need ambien for?"

"i can't sleep."

"but every morning, you skip breakfast to sleep."

"i do fall asleep, but i started waking up out of it. i just take the ambien to help me fall again."

"what time do you take it?"

"i don't know, y/n."

"why are you lying to me?"

"i'm not."

"what time?" you cry, grasping at your chest. a sharp pains thud through your ribcage, and you literally sob. it feels like your heart is tearing in two. "you stare at times, mike. what time do you take the ambien?"

he doesn't answer you and he doesn't know why. it would be so easy to tell you that he takes it at 9 or 10, and that he believes he'll be able to wake himself up around 2 but he doesn't. he can’t sleep without the ambien. he needs it now because he kept himself up in the early days of this, mind toiling over their situation, the endless reassurance that this would work sending him into insomnia.

you leave when he doesn't answer, wiping at your watery eyes and runny nose.

you cashier as a shell of yourself. abby stops asking mike for homework help, and eventually he stops cooking dinner too, trading all that time in for extra sleep after picking her up. you have to explain the situation to your retail store manager, just in case mike forgets again, and start looking after abby more. mike only ever made time to spend with her on the weekends, content with awkward moments over lunch and low energy bickering.

the lunch break texts stop. the dinner texts stop.

he's dressed and ready to leave when you get home these days, prepared to exit as you enter. you don't know what to say as you face each other in the doorway, eyes focused on anything but each other. you don’t even kiss anymore.

"i think abby's asleep already."

you shake your head. "i think she's really sad. she hasn't been coming out of there like she used to. she misses you."

"i miss her too, of course. i'm just busy."

"all you do is work, mike," you deadpan, exhausted with him. you never thought you'd ever get to a point where you looked at mike, the sure love of your life, with disdain, but you felt it creep into you ever so slightly.

"yeah, i know. it fucking sucks, but it's what i have to do to keep abby."

you scoff, scooting past him to take your coat and bag off. "as if you're going to keep her by leaving her at school everyday." it's supposed to be under your breath, but the disdain creeps onto your tongue, bitter and raging, and you say it aloud, to his face.

his jaw clenches and his brown eyes burn, staring you down with an unrelenting severity. you hunch yourself over, dropping your head and sighing out, "mike, i'm sorry. i didn--"

he leaves without another word.

how it got to this, neither of you know. not even the weekends healed anymore. mike caught up on sleep, you caught up on grading, and in your downtime, you avoided each other. for him, it felt easier than being around you. you were irritable all the time, a quick fuse with any word he could think to speak.

for you, it seemed like it was what he wanted. time away from you, from abby, from everyone; time to be alone and recharge for the only thing he ever did, the only thing that was keeping his sister in his care.

you didn't even remember what his touch felt like, what he tasted like. the man that you loved had become but a memory, a ghost that passed through your plane. you’re able to imagine his fluffy hair, his perfect smile, his laugh, his rich smell, but none of it mattered. he didn’t feel like yours anymore.

you suppose it was the same for him, with you existing in the same space but only tangible to him some of the time. he would catch glimpses of your smile, laughing at something on your phone, or talking to abby, meet your eyes when you shuffled back to the bedroom from the bathroom, rimmed in red from crying for the last 30 minutes.

he starts sleeping on the couch, unable to even lay beside you.

mike does a lot of crying. a lot of screaming into his pillow, wondering why he fucks these things up so badly. you do the same, wondering why you stay in situations that hurt you.

this goes on for longer than you two would like, so long that you don't even celebrate your one-year anniversary.

the day passes without noise, mike sleeping and you working.

a prequel of sorts : x

THIS WAS SO FUCKING LONG MY BBBBBBBB OMG. i did NOT mean to go this deep in, i just felt SOOOOO MUCH! my little brain got sad ): i could go deeper into this too one day, breaking up moments into specific little blurbs or ficlets d: let me know if y'all even enjoyed this lmaooo off to write for Halloween lol

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #fnaf angst #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf fic #faire’s mike schmidt <3 #this was painful #kind of tired so it may be ass but #it feels painful #imagine your relationship just falling to pieces 💔#i made this so long #whoops #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson

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sweetyluvs · 10 months

Note

27 with doctor! abby au please 🙏!!

𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞

abby anderson x fem! reader - drabble

sorry this literally took me a millennium.. i kept getting it wrong and having to rewrite 😭 .

anon left a second note, it read: “same anon who requested 27 with doctor abby! i forgot to add i want angst with fluff at the end if possible. thanks:)”

tags - angsty 🥀, mentions of light loneliness, relationship problems.. fluff at the end!!!

Abby having late night shifts was nothing knew.

She was a surgeon, staying late was apart of her job. but sometimes you wished it wasn’t.

she always came back extremely exhausted, only having the strength to mutter a few ‘thank you’s’ when she eats the food you made her before she goes to sleep. resting all night and getting up at the crack of dawn. You barely see her, and when you do, it’s not for long.

you do miss her, you miss really being around her and having her eyes and attention and love on you, but with her job… it wasn’t that simple. you had your own job, yeah, you were the owner of a small bakery downtown. but you ran that business, you had employees and assistant managers to cover for when you couldn’t make it, and abby didn’t.

you sigh deeply, shutting your eyes upon the refreshing feeling of the cold air flushing out your lungs. Abby was most likely working another late shift at the Hospital. No surprise, you loved her, and her job, but she’d said she would be back by 6:30 to have the promised dinner you were thrilled to make. you’d been going on about it for weeks, asking when she would swear to be free, and she had pinky swore that this wednesday— today— would be perfect.

but, here you sat. alone at the table, your plate empty as the one across from you was full, the once warm food now cold. You weren’t angry, no, you understood. Obviously, she’d come back if she could, obviously she’d stay with you if she could. but she couldn’t. being a doctor was hard, and you understood.

You stood up, taking your plate and utensils with you to the sink. overlooking all the dishes you’d dirtied to try and perfect this dish for her. You rinsed your dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, going to gather the other ones and wash them, putting the plates, bowls, spoons and such in the washer. Your thoughts went back to the day you’d told her. she walked through the door at her usual retuning time, smiling at you when you ran up to her for a hug. You’d asked her the usuals; ‘how was your day?’ ‘anything exciting happen?’ ‘was dina as smart as she usually is?’ ‘were jesse and ellie as weird as usual?’ she’d laughed at your dumb questions, answering them as she took off her shoes and placed down her bag, walking with you to the kitchen. then, you be brought it up.

“abs, i found this super cool, almost gourmet recipe, and i thought i could make it for us to have for dinner on a night that works for you.” you offered, watching as she practically inhaled the spaghetti and meatballs you’d made for dinner. She chewed for a moment, smiling at your words. she swallowed, looking at you. “that sounds great, baby. what is it?”

“can’t tell ya! have to kill ya.” you teased, leaning on the counter and grinning at her eye roll. “okay, whatver.”

“what day works for you? i want you to actually have it free so you don’t miss the freshness of the food.” you inquired, watching as she squinted her eyes in thought. “next wednesday. some construction is going on at the hospital and me and a few others are being let of early.. around 6:30, so that’s perfect.” she replied, twisting her spoon to gather some noodles. you beamed, leaned closer “you pinky swear?.”

“i pinky swear.”

you bit your bottom lip, gnawing at the now raw flesh at the reminiscence of the memory. You always tried to be open, not upset— but you were hurt. You hadn’t actually, really had dinner with her for months.

it wasn’t her fault. you’d told yourself, knowing it wasn’t. You didn’t want to take her work schedule to heart.. but something inside you cracked every time she broke a promise. You huffed angrily, brows furrowing harshly as you aggressively scrubbed the pan you’d used. the dish had took you most of the day, calling ahead to your employees yesterday to let them know you wouldn’t be there, you spent seven hours perfecting this recipe.

even the name of the dish took you time to read. ‘Prosciutto-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin with Crispy Sage, a side of Salade Niçoise (from france) and a side dish of duchess potatoes.’

you knew abby would fall to her knees from joy upon hearing those food titles. she’d love to have it with you, and that’s why you made it. so she’d love it. but she’s not here to have it with you like she said.

before you knew it, the kitchen was clean. stepping to the dinner table, you scooped up her plate of food and nicely wrapped it in plastic wrap. taking a piece of paper from the notepad on the fridge and writing her a small note. You weren’t trying to be rude, in fact, you tried everything in you to he as kind as possible— but after being bailed on four times in the past three months, you were at the edge of a line. you put the paper on the plate, leaving it on the counter for her alongside some water before storming off to your shared bedroom— barely, shared bedroom. you made it, cleaned it, kept it tidy, rearranged it, etcetera.

tearing off your nice shirt, you tossed it to the floor. usually, you’d wear one of abby’s shirts during her night shifts, the lingering smell bringing you comfort— but now, the thought of her made you internally irk.

you took a shirt from your drawer , tossing it over your head and shoulders, sliding it on. You didn’t same with your pants, taking off the nice linen fabric and fuming as you put on crappy old shorts.

You basically threw yourself into bed, putting a pillow between your side, and abbys side of the bed. hoping she’d get the message. i mean, it’s not like she’ll have the time to talk to you about it tomorrow anyways, right?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

abby sigh as the door to your shared apartment opened, her hand pulling out the key she’d used to unlock it. you don’t usually lock the door.

She knew she’d fucked up.

you’d been so excited for this, chatting about it and reminding her to not be late. and she was late. four hours late.

Abbys dropped her bag by the door as she usually does, sliding off her work shoes and sliding on her slippers before walking to the kitchen.

the lights were out, it was cleaned nicely. her eyes met a plate on the white marble counter, a lazily folded piece of paper on top.

She smiled lightly, knowing you’d be the kind to leave her a note. she reached for it, unfolding it.

“Hope the construction workers weren’t in your way. Enjoy.” abby’s smile fell, guilt flooded her every atom at the words. fuck.

she knew you’d be upset, she doesn’t know what she was expecting— she’d bailed on you four times, and she swore to be on time this one. but, she wasn’t.

Abby was getting ready to head out at 6:25 to be able to make it home early, the biggest grin tugged at her lips as she told all her co-workers about the meal you were preparing.

she was about to leave when an emergency was called in. It was bad, but she’d seen worse. this poor girls bone was completely shattered, a bad case of compartment syndrome. unluckily, her and mel were the only two true professionals still clocked in, leading to a four and a half hour long surgery.

by the time abby got out of the hospital, she basically ran to her car and sped home— praying that by some miracle you were still awake and waiting for her.

you weren’t.

She put the note down, eyes landing on the plate of food you’d left her.

it was beautiful.

the potatoes shaped perfectly, the prosciutto-wrapped tenderloin looked amazing; cooked to perfection, the salad beside it was also stunning.

Each course of the meal was placed individually and carefully on her plate. Abby’s stomach fell with guilt upon imagining you sitting alone, eating your meal without her.

Abby was mad at herself. not because of this single instance, but because she feels as if she’s choosing her career over you— and she would never, ever do such a thing.

Her life revolves around you, so much.. she’d been planning a little something with a ring.

but for some terrifying reason, she felt that you would refuse. why would you marry someone who you’d never be around? nausea ate at her stomach due to the thought, hoping it was only her crazy nighttime, overworked imagination.

Abby unwrapped the food, putting it in the microwave for a minute. You weren’t anywhere in sight, and so she assumed you’d gone to sleep. alone. again.

“fuck..” she murmured, regret running through her veins. She leaned on the counter, her muscular figure easily keeping her upright.

you were the love of her life— her light in the darkness, her jam to her bread, her peanut butter to her jelly— without you, she doesn’t know where she’d be, and thanks to her stupid work schedule, she’s beginning to think that’s starting to happen.

the timer went off, a loud beep ripping her from her thoughts. “oh shit— shh, shh— loud ass microwave.” she complained, taking out the food. The potatoes were now soft, the salad unfortunately warm do to being in the heat, but the rest of the meal was good temperature. Abby got a fork, quickly snagging a bite of the tenderloin. It was even better than you swore it would be. The juice of the meat flooded her mouth like the sea to the shore, accompanied with the small amount of potatoes that gathered on her fork; they were magnificent.

Abby had inhaled the meal, it being gone in a matter of inhuman minutes. She rinsed her dish, going to load it in the dishwasher— but seeing that you had ran it. she frown. you always made sure to never do that, claiming you ‘wanted to get the love she deserves, and love is definitely not having to do your own dish.’

she cleaned her dishes and walked across the house and down the hall to your shared bedroom, pushing the door open she saw you. laying on your side, hair lightly messy as it always was when you slept (she loved it.) and.. a pillow between your side and her side. she wondered what else she’d missed that you’d done.

Abby striped her pants, throwing on some sweats and a hoodie, sliding in bed beside you. She gripped the pillow and threw it so hard she was surprised it didn’t pop, and wrapped her ams around your wait.

you shuffled, grabbing her hand before it could do a full 360 and ripped it off you, harshly turning your back to her.

“babe,” she whispered softly, sadness coating her vocals.

you were reluctant, eyes snapped shut even though she knows your awake.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i really tried to be here, something unexpected came up, i swear i would have had been here.”

your silence had her itching at her skin.

“please say something.” she pleaded, her frown only deepening.

“whatever you say, abigail.”

abby grabbed the top of her head, ‘fuck’ running in her mind a thousand miles per hour. she really was in deep shit.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i don’t even think sorry can describe how sorry i am— i just, i wanted do come back, i couldn’t though. i couldn’t just leave the hospital, they needed me.” you clenched your jaw. her points were decent, great even— but you were petty.

“i’m sure they did.”

your little-word replies had abby at edge of her seat, suspense and fear building up.

“that’s all? nothing else?” she poked, confusion flooding her, anger starting to appear as well.

“yeah.”

she scoffed, sitting against the headboard. “You don’t have anything else to say? at all? i came back, yeah, i was late and i’m sorry, but—

“late?” you bit back, interrupting her. “you’ve bailed on me four times for dinner. You’ve always put your job before me, you’ve always had more time for your career— is this even working?”

those words were the ones abby feared the most. When you two began dating, she had told you about her passion, and where she worked. you found it fascinating, understanding completely. but, that was also when she used to spend genuine time with you.

“ i love you abby, i really do— but i can’t be with someone who puts a career before a person. I support your passions, and i wish nothing but the best for you, but I don’t want to be stood up by the person i’m dating anymore. fuck, abby, i took work off today to spend seven fucking hours making a meal you couldn’t even text me to say you couldn’t even show up for!” before you knew it, you’d sat up and looked at her, voice raising in a way she’d never heard.

“i know its not your choice, but you could at least find five fucking seconds to reply to my text.”

guild flooded her like a tsunami once again, a frown growing at the look on your face.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered out, watching as you sigh deeply.

“Don’t apologize, abby. it’s past that.” your reply scared her, fearing the worst; a break up. were you going to break up with her? were you going to leave her behind? she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out.

“how can i make it up to you?”

“i don’t even know if you can do that anymore.” you turned away, laying on your side, the pillow you’d somehow slipped between you both felt like a rock wall, each side of the bed you slept on cold; missing one another’s warmth.

abby stayed silent, internally scolding herself for being such a bad girlfriend and, frankly, not trying harder to be better.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you woke up with a sore neck, probably from sleeping in a way you never do.

you didn’t need to look over to abby’s side of the bed to know she was gone. sitting up, you crack your once resting bones and stand up. Shuffling on your slippers, you walk to your bedroom door, twisting the cold handle and walking out.

Every morning you wake up after abby, she always kisses you goodbye before she leaves (or so she claims to.), grabs a quick bite to eat from the fridge and you are left to make breakfast for yourself. it was second nature, to wake up and immediately crack and egg or two.

but, something was off. It smelled almost.. good in the house. you ignored it, labeling it as your desperate imagination.

Your feet hobbled across the house, yawning deeply and shutting the bathroom door. looking in the mirror, you grimace. the eye bags on your face were not your strong suite, you noted.

quickly rinsing off your sleep, you brush your teeth along with your hair. each and every yawning that stole itself from your lips reminded you how much you needed your coffee. rubbing your eyes you opened the bathroom door and began your journey to the kitchen.

when you round the familiar corner, what you hadn’t expected was to see Abby in the room.

your eyes flew wide, her blonde hair was still down from sleeping, she had her glasses on and was hovering over the stove.

brows furrowing, you stepped forward. “aren’t you supposed to be at work? isn’t thursday one of the most important ones?” you genuinely ask, catching her off guard attention, her head snapping up.

the big, sweet smile that encased her beautiful lips made you feel bad for your harshness the previous night. She pushed her arms off the counter, fixing something by the stove quickly before walking over to the bar, pulling out the two chairs and revealing two sets of plates.

“Yeah— but it’s not as important as you.” Abby affirmed, a light pink coating her cheeks. You wanted to stay angry, to stay mad at her lies and broken promises. But, your ice heart thawed quickly, revealing the warmth you still posses for her.

“abby.. you didn’t have to. I know i was harsh last night but— it’s your passion, i didn’t.. actually expect you to not go.” you confessed, walking to her cautiously, as if she’d vanish from existence.

she gave you a small smile, “I know. but, i would rather be with you. I love you way more than any hobby.” Her words were the validation you’ve been craving all these months, the words you’ve been seeking to hear. You instantly complied.

“i’m glad to hear that.” you laughed, approaching her and gingerly placing a kiss to her cheek as you sat at your chair she pointed to.

“always.”

she rushed back to the stove, flipping over whatever had been on their previously before motioning for you to give her your plate. you obliged, handing it to her.

“I love you, baby. I always will and.. even though i’m not a baker, i tried to make you those pancakes you like so much.” oh did her words make you fall for her all over again. “you didn’t have to, abs.” you grinned, ear to ear. something abby hadn’t seen you do since.. since a while.

“i did. i hope you like them.” she placed the plate in front of you, beautiful, fluffy pancakes alongside fresh bacon and eggs with syrup drizzled over them placed nicely on the dish.

“wow! abby, you might want to reconsider your career and come work for me.” you joked, smiling wildly at the wholehearted laugh she let out.

“who knows, maybe i will.”

you rolled your eyes, cutting a piece of the pancake and dipping it in the puddled syrup.

your eyes widened, “mhm!” you expressed, eyes shutting in satisfaction.

although abby was a very high ranked doctor, she was still nervous to get her professional baker girlfriends opinion on first time pancakes.

“Abigail, you are a natural.”

“only for you, babe.”

she put food on her own plate, turning off the stove and coming to sit beside you.

“I’m going to call my supervisor and ask for some more free hours from now on. So i can start to have breakfast and dinner with you. and maybe a couple free days, too.” abby announced, causing your heart to beat happily.

“that makes me so unbelievably happy, abby. you deserve it.”

you kissed her cheek, syrup sticking from your lips to her skin. you laughed, and she did too.

“I love you. more than anything.” you said, chewing softly. she wiped some food from your face, a loving smile tracing her features.

“i love you more.”

779 notes · View notes

tainsan · 11 months

Text

misfits III (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: this one is a little bit crazy so buckle up!}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

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-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: small anxiety attack, someone is a dickhead to reader

word count: 7k

_______

“I’m sorry I just can’t....

”“What do you mean?” Wooyoung’s voice is full of remorse as he cuts your words off. Yeosang can feel his heart drop down to his stomach.

“Let me finish,” you say softly, “I was going to say I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Wooyoung tilts his head to the side, whereas Yeosang’s hands gripped tightly, his nails digging into his palm.

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung repeats himself, not understanding the situation.

“Look I’ll spare you the sob story but my entire life I’ve kind of been treated like shit, it’s extremely hard to believe that something incredible like this is happening, it doesn’t seem real at all,” you admit, looking at your hands which are now full of sweat. Your comment pierces the hearts of the two males standing in front of you.

“It’s happening, okay?” Yeosang takes your hands into his own, and you fail to see the way Wooyoung’s jaw clenches, “sometimes bad things fall apart for good things to fall into place.” Your heart stops for a second as the words leave his mouth. It was something your mother used to say when you were younger. You aren’t sure if it was his words or the way he was caressing your hands in his, but something made you not able to move an inch. “I think…”

Abruptly your words are cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and some noisy voices entering into the building. Looking between Yeosang and Wooyoung, you realise the rest of the house was finished with their classes and now home. Much to your dismay, you were hoping to only have to talk to one or two people today. Silently hoping that none of them go to this room, you take your hands away from Yeosang’s grasp wiping the sweat on the sides of your legs. Yet your hopes are crushed when you hear multiple footsteps pounding around outside. Of course, this room had to be so close to the kitchen. You hear a familiar voice call out for Wooyoung and Yeosang, causing your heart to clench momentarily. They seem to notice your behaviour change, not answering the call, still studying your body language, and trying to figure out how to get you out of this situation. Their efforts are futile though, as you hear a knocking on the door.

“Don’t tell me you are dwelling in this room waiting for,” the door opens, and you see San scanning the room. His eyes widen as he makes eye contact with you, not being able to believe you are here.

“___? You came?” His voice is soft yet the hints of enthusiasm that spill through his cold exterior are unmistakeable. It’s the first time you’ve seen San since the tutoring session, however, you aren’t as ecstatic as you thought you’d be to see him again, wishing it was under different circumstances.

Not grasping how to proceed, all you do is wave in response, a forced smile plastered on your features. Fortunately for you, San is fairly able to read the situation, noticing the way your body is tensed up and uncomfortable. He too speedily tries to think of a way to help you, but unfortunately, the only way to get out is through the kitchen it seems hopeless, and he isn’t about to let you go out through the window, as much as you’d gladly throw yourself out right now.

“Sannie what is taking so long?” You hear another familiar voice get closer to the door. Realising there is no way out of this situation, you grudgingly decide to trail the three men out of the room headed for the kitchen. As your eyes make contact with the kitchen, you see five men either sitting or standing around the island, talking boisterously about what seems to be for dinner tonight. Groceries are laid across the island in multiple plastic bags. You can recognise Jongho and Mingi, which makes you feel a little at ease, yet when your eyes land on Hongjoong, your heart races even quicker remembering the act with him two days ago. You immediately take your eyes away from him and that’s when your eyes land on two unfamiliar faces, they must be Seonghwa and Yunho. They both have black hair and are undeniably stunning. It is Jongho who looks towards where you and the three others are entering, his smile growing on his face when he sees his roommates, the first time you’ve seen his full smile and it makes you comprehend how close they must all be. Luckily, none of the men in the kitchen sees you half hiding behind Yeosang.

“What took you so long?,” he says, feigning annoyance. At that moment all the guys look at you, and you hide entirely behind Yeosang, not knowing what to do. It’s one thing being with three of the Ateez members, let alone all of them in one space.

“Who is that?” You hear Mingi's query. ‘Fuck’ you think, knowing he noticed you, even though you were expertly disappeared behind Yeosang’s broad figure. Wooyoung looks to his left and observes you almost flat against Yeosang’s back, concealing from the view. His attempts to hold back his laugh and it does not go ignored by the five men in the kitchen.

San bends down slightly to meet your ear, “Just come out, nothing bad is going to happen.” His voice is again soothing and calm, only you Wooyoung and Yeosang hear it.

Not realizing you are hiding behind him, Yeosang turns to see what is occurring behind his back. Due to his motion, you are uncovered to the five men residing in the kitchen. As their eyes meet you, there are mixed responses seen across the room. Jongho’s smile spreads throughout his face, Mingi has a sort of shocked-glad look adorning his expression, and you swear you see the corners of Hongjoong’s lip turn up ever so vaguely. However, the two men you are new to have unreadable looks on their faces. A deathly silence follows your reveal behind Yeosang, and he feels extremely guilty for uncovering your concealment.

Before you can say hello, one of the two unidentified faces stands up from his chair behind the island, and you notice he is incredibly tall and well-built, he is undeniably the tallest of the group, his height reaching above Mingi’s.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” His voice is venomous and cruel. He does not utter another word before storming past San, bumping roughly into his shoulder, definitely on purpose. Then disappearing into one of the bedrooms behind you. Sighs are heard from the kitchen, some seeming shocked yet some of them appear as if they expected it.

Looking over to your left, confusion on your face, you go to ask San if he is okay from the impact of the tall male.

“I’m fine,” San replies, his scowl being replaced by a light smile, momentarily feeling delighted you are concerned about his health. You fail to notice the way the six others in the room frown at the man who has your consideration.

“San,” Hongjoong speaks out, getting the notice of the male next to you. His voice is authoritative and sharp, but not in a foul-mouthed way. Rolling his eyes, San moves away from you and towards the room where the man who just stormed off was residing in. Gently, Wooyoung places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the kitchen, his fingers on fire from the contact with you.

“So how do you like the house? I’m sure Wooyoung and Yeosang have given you a good tour?” Hongjoong asks you as you are still in your place, Wooyoung swiftly takes a place to your right whereas Hongjoong takes a place to your left. Yeosang grumbles as he makes his way towards the empty seat across the island.

“Um yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, your voice is hushed and soft. Hongjoong’s look is unfazed.

��That’s great. So, when are you moving in?” He is straightforward with his words and the inquiry hangs in the room causing the others to become tense for your reply, not sure if you are moving in or not. The harsh actions of the man bounce around in your brain, and you are not even sure if it was Yunho or Seonghwa, or if that was even their name.

“It’s a great place but isn’t it going to look kind of weird if I’m living with eight guys?” you reply truthfully, deciding to ignore your many thoughts and questions about what just happened. You are hoping for people to not be assuming things, if you were to live here, you’d prefer people not to know. Knowing that if it got out you were living with them, then the attention directed towards you would be extreme and way too much for you to handle.

This time Wooyoung replies “We thought you might say that. But it’s not like you have to share a bed with any of us,” he bends down to your level once again, “unless you want to.”

You are extremely taken by surprise by this comment, your cheeks heating up almost instantly. It’s the first time anyone has ever spoken to you like this and you definitely have no idea how to react.

Noticing your stunned expression, Mingi quickly steps in, “he’s just joking, don’t take anything he says too seriously.” Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung moves away from your frame, resting down on the barstool next to you.

“I see this is what you meant by overbearing?” You ask Hongjoong, half joking, half serious. However, the look on Wooyoung’s face, when the word comes out of your mouth, is too amusing to not laugh at. He has an open mouth and places his hand over his heart, simulating to be offended.

“In a way, yes,” Hongjoong responds, his lips twitching up a little.

“To answer your question,” you start, all the men in the room holding their breaths in suspense, not knowing what the answer would be, “if I am to move in here, I want to ask some questions, if that’s okay.”

They breathe out slowly in relief, it’s not a definitive no, they still have a chance.

“What would those be?” You look over to the person who asked the question, it is the man you are unfamiliar with. His voice is deep but smooth, like honey. For the first time, your eyes make direct contact with his and for some reason it feels like it’s not the first time your eyes have met his. It feels like there are lost memories in his eyes, and if you look close enough, you will be able to recover them. There is a strong emotion on his face, it’s concentrated and undeniable, yet you can’t quite grasp what exactly the emotion is. You stare long into his deep eyes, wanting some sort of answer to a question you don’t even know the words to. Swiftly you break the eye contact, avoiding getting lost in the familiarity of his gaze. The small interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the group and they are momentarily worried that there was something wrong, or maybe that you realised something.

“Um, well first I want to know if I’m allowed to have friends over?” You query, hoping they say yes. If you are going to live here, you better be able to have Jisung over. Sleepovers are a must for the two, if you need the space from everything to just be together and talk about all the little things.

“It’s preferred not,” Hongjoong answers directly. Immediately feeling a little bummed, you start to frown, making a mental tally of the pros and cons.

“But if it’s only Jisung it’s okay. As long as you let us know if he’s coming over.” Jongho quickly adds, ignoring the way Hongjoong sends a deathly glare in his direction. Jongho sends the look back, knowing he is in the right. Nodding at the extra information, you think about your next question.

“What is food like here, do we buy food separately and eat by ourselves or do we share?”

It is silent for a second before Hongjoong answers, it seems like he is the one in charge of the way things roll around here. Makes sense why they call him ‘captain’ “We eat breakfast and lunch separately most of the time, but for dinner, we will always eat together, unless we are busy with work or assignments.” You find this sweet and smile to yourself hearing this answer. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten dinner with people like a family. Always liking communal dinners, this goes as a pro in your books.

“I have some things I want though, if I am to move here.” You declare, trying to sound as authoritative as Hongjoong, but likely failing. Yet, the men around you nod and let you continue, with smiles on their faces.

“It sounds dumb, but you’d have to knock on my door before entering.”

“Done.”

“No eating my food if it’s in the fridge.”

This time Yeosang talks up, “We have some rules about that too, just make sure you put your name on it, and then it’s yours.”

Mingi also adds to the conversation, “And if it’s in there for longer than a week then we throw it out, just so we don’t have unnecessary space being filled.” This makes you feel relieved, glad that it is somehow so organized in this house. In your past experiences in shared dorms, you have always seemed to have bad luck with roommates. Eating your food, being unnecessarily noisy at ungodly hours, being overall dickheads and just nuisances.

“We have a question.” The nameless man is talking now, you try to make eye contact with him yet fail miserably, resorting to just nodding in his direction, hoping he doesn’t take it as being rude. “If you have any issues like illnesses or allergies, we’d like to know just in case we need to avoid certain foods and things?”

“Well, I don’t have any illnesses or allergies, just some problems with mental health I guess.” You disclose, uncomfortable to be sharing this information with so many strangers at once. Some part of you wonders why you even said it. They did not need to know that they meant physical illnesses. Whatever, if they are going to be your roommates they might as well know, you guess. The shoulders of the man who questioned you drop slightly, yet strangely he nods as if he already knew the answer. Luckily, they do not ask further questions about your mental state, much to your relief.

“Any more questions?” Hongjoong inquires.

“Please don’t go into my room without my permission. It’s not like I’m hiding anything, I just need the privacy.”

“That’s fine, we also prefer it that way too, snooping in other rooms is not acceptable here.” Hongjoong reacts to your statement causing you to nod and beam gratefully for the consideration.

“What do I have to do regarding the rent payments? Would I need to go somewhere so they can process my move?”

“We have that sorted out already, all you would need to do is sign a form and contract which I can show you later.”

“Okay fine.” You utter, almost as if you were holding in a breath for years. Around you, the five men look positive, hoping what you’re leading to is what they desire to hear. You continue, “When can I move in?”

Wooyoung and Mingi jump up from their chairs, Yeosang sits up straight, not believing his ears, Jongho and the nameless man seem to share a relieved look, and for the first time, you see Hongjoong’s smile reaches his eyes.

“I have one last question though,” You start speaking again looking towards the male who you have not met before, “I’m sorry I don’t know your name yet.”

His eyes open hugely, and he answers, “When they said you didn’t know about us, they weren’t lying,” he rises from his chair and makes his way toward you, making you ever more confused as to why his face is so familiar, reaching out his hand softly to shake yours, “I’m Seonghwa, and the other guy was Yunho.”

Taking his hand in yours, you shake his hand with a small smile on your face, when he smiles back, you swear you could’ve fainted from his beauty. You are starting to understand why this whole group is so popular. Seonghwa lets go of your hand gently, before turning back to his chair and sitting back down, though the beam on his features does not falter as he keeps secretly stealing glances at you. Deciding to reply to his comment, you speak up, “As I’ve said before, I live under a rock,”

“She said she doesn’t give a shit about us,” Wooyoung says, teasing you further.

“Hey, I said that I didn’t care about all the gossip and group stuff, and with no offence,” You glare playfully at him, bringing your finger up to your mouth to jokingly signal him to keep his mouth closed. His smile is contagious as he reaches up and ruffles the top of your head, the action making your heart skip a few beats. Immediately looking down at your hands, avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes, you miss the envious stares pointed at the second youngest.

“Do you not care about the rumours surrounding us?” This time it’s Mingi who talks. As fast as you can blink, the entire room is thick with tension, and you can feel the glares pointed towards the man who spoke up. Pondering on your answer for a second you decide to answer truthfully.

“I’ll be honest, I was a little worried,” The men around you deflate with sadness filling their hearts, and Yeosang and Mingi start to feel the familiar anxious feeling in their throats. You resume talking, “But in the end, rumours are just rumours, it’s up to the person hearing them whether they believe it or not.”

“What do you believe?” Seonghwa is quiet as he speaks, careful with his words. It is deathly silent in the room and you start to wonder why they care so much about the way you view them.

“I’m not sure.”

Wooyoung’s eyes start to sting, thinking of any way he can to make you change your mind, to see him for him.

“But so far, I like you guys, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now.” For the nth time today, the boys let out deep breaths they didn’t realise they were even holding in.

“So do we have to get into your good books then?” Yeosang jokes, leaning on the island with his arms, breaking the tension and causing small chuckles to sound across the room. At this moment, for a split second, you’re incredibly impressed by the fact they barely speak over each other, always letting each other speak without being ignored. They have likely known each other for a long time, you conclude.

“If you’re up for a challenge? Go ahead.”

“I like our odds.” Hongjoong turns towards you, leaning his body towards the island, smirking lightly. You are confused by Hongjoong’s behaviour and the way it seems to change so easily, but you are guessing you may have to get accustomed to it. The look he gives you is intense and almost seductive, if you’d stare any longer you likely would fall for him. Swiftly looking away, you glance towards your watch to check the time, 17:13.

“How much stuff do you have to move here?” San appears from around the corner, his ears are red and his hair is slightly ruffled, it looks like they had an intense discussion in there, he doesn’t look upset, but there is some emotion along his features, however, it is extremely unreadable and confusing.

“I only have a suitcase of clothes.”

“Do you not have any other furniture?”

“It was burned down in the fire, but the owners of the building are going to reimburse me for the lost things. I just need to go shopping when I have the money and the time.”

All seven men nod in understanding, and then Hongjoong speaks up. “If you want to move in this evening that’s fine with me. Yunho and I will go and help you grab your suitcase.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I can grab it myself, but I appreciate the offer.” It’s one thing to be travelling across campus with two of the members of Ateez, let alone people seeing them walk into your temporary dorm room. Already knowing whispers are going around about Hongjoong entering your class and demanding to speak with you, you aren’t too eager to fuel people’s gossiping needs. You also would rather avoid the person who just stormed out of the room with a bitter look on his face. Not wanting to start anything unnecessary.

“It’s really fine, I’ll get Yunho now,” Hongjoong insists, moving to go towards the room where Yunho is residing, he gets halted in his movements as said man appears in the kitchen.

“If you think I’m going anywhere with her you are wrong, the last thing we need is more rumours being spread so she can get her fifteen seconds of fame.” Yunho’s glare pierces through you, his full height peering down at you, causing you to feel incredibly small.

“Yunho we are going.” Hongjoong declares, his voice easily matching his.

“In your dreams,” The tall male walks nearer to you, stopping when he is directly in front of you. Wooyoung rises from his seat and tries to push Yunho back slightly, but he is overpowered by the taller man. Behind you, the rest of the males stand up from their chairs ready to intervene if things go wrong, yet knowing Yunho, they doubt he would ever hurt you physically. Yunho carries on speaking, “Just because they let you in here doesn’t mean you are welcome.”

“Yunho.” Hongjoong’s voice is stern and threatening, attempting to make Yunho back up. You flinch from the sharpness of Hongjoong’s voice.

“Just because they are nice to you, doesn’t mean I will ever be. You are nothing, you will never be. Stop trying to get into our pants and leave us alone.”

“Yunho, stop.” Seonghwa’s voice booms in the background, causing you to flinch again, yet your eyes cannot break contact with the tall man in front of you. The nerves in your body are on fire, you start to feel nauseous and dizzy. This situation reminds you severely of some of the past encounters you have had with your father. Yunho doesn’t spare a glance toward the two eldest males, his eyes solely focused on you. Finally, he starts to step back slowly. Letting out a scoff at your scared frame, he walks away, back to the room where he emerged from.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotions, you have no idea what to do other than speed to the exit of the house. Seonghwa attempts to stop you as you flee, yet you slip past him. Hongjoong storms after Yunho, slamming the door behind him, making you flinch even more. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you’re hit with flashbacks from long ago which you have tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Hurriedly pulling on your shoes, not even bothering to grab your jacket on the coat stand, you escape from the house, tears running freely from your eyes. Seonghwa quickly runs after you, reaching you under the light of a dimly light streetlight.

“___.” Seonghwa’s voice calls out from behind you. “___,” he calls one more time before gently grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. Seeing the tears fall from your eyes makes his heart clench impossibly hard.

“Please come back, you shouldn’t be walking around alone when it’s dark.” Seonghwa is softly spoken, his hand not leaving your upper arm, his thumb unconsciously stroking your exposed skin.

“Look I know you’re not stupid, so if you were in my situation, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to live with someone who just talked to you as if you are nothing more than the dirt underneath their shoe.”

“He doesn’t mean it, trust me. He just has trouble with new people.” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“So do I, but you don’t see me talking to people like they are pieces of shit?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve let someone in our house, let alone live in it. The last time it happened, it didn’t work out too well, he’s just trying to prevent something wrong from happening.” Your features soften slightly at this admission, but still not enough for you to even think about forgiving Yunho and his actions.

“I know I said I was maybe going to live with you guys, but if he is going to be like that all the time, I am not going to able to handle that. It’s too similar, to him, I can’t relive that. You can’t make me relive that.” Your breathing becomes uneven as your throat tightens up in a familiar feeling of panic, flashbacks of the past flashing in your eyes. Dropping down to your knees, Seonghwa catches you in his arms, cradling your limp body. He understands your feelings, and your pain, more than you know. Yet, all he can do right now is comfort you, stroking up slowly up and down your back. Unbeknownst to you, Jongho walks out of the building, your jacket in his hands. Seeing you on the floor, tears falling from your eyes makes his chest tighten. Jongho reaches the two of you, bending down to squat at your level, he wraps your jacket around your shoulders. ‘

“Let’s get your stuff here so you can go to sleep early.” Jongho’s voice is gentle, just above a whisper, he sees you flinch at the thought of going back to the house which makes his chest hurt even more

“Hongjoong is dealing with Yunho, you don’t have to worry about him. You can trust me, ___. Hongjoong has a way of disciplining us” Jongho grabs one of your balled-up fists and helps you to stand up, Seonghwa momentarily missing the warmth of your body against his.

“We will come with you to get your things. I know you’re likely worried about people seeing us with you, we don’t blame you, you don’t want to be a target.” Jongho says.

Wiping away your tears, and calming your breath, you manage to get some words out, “I don’t care about becoming a target, I’m just not a fan of people talking about me behind my back.” I explain.

They both nod in understanding and then Seonghwa says, “You can’t have nowhere to live, ___. We can both promise that Yunho will never speak to you like that again.”

Reluctantly, you nod in agreement. “Okay.” You are surprised by the way you believe the two men so easily, trusting them faster than you have ever trusted anyone before. Of course, not fully, but you can see yourself trusting them in the future, which is weird to you. Very weird.

_______

Walking to the student dorms was an interesting experience, you get to talk to Seonghwa a little bit more learning he is taking an accounting course whilst Jongho is taking a marine biology course. What is interesting is the way they walk so closely to you, since you are outside of the school campus, you don’t mind the looks of random people who you are very sure don’t attend your school.

What you fail to observe is the way they glare at all the males who dare to look towards your direction, moving closer to your smaller frame. However, when you enter the front gate to the campus, the distance between the three of you disperses almost immediately. You feel glad that the two who took you are so understanding of your boundaries and wishes. Strolling behind you, Seonghwa and Jongho are in a distant chat, acting as if they don’t know who you are and just happened to enter at similar times. It makes you feel comfortable and pleased by the kind gestures they show. The trip to the residences is going smoothly until you are suddenly stopped by a very familiar face.

Your walking stops immediately, causing the two walking behind you to halt extremely fast, almost making the youngest trip over as the elder grabs his arm and pulls him to the bush to their left.

“Jeongin! What are you doing here?” You ask the white-haired male, glancing towards the bush where the two men have just bolted for, you see the head of Jongho sticking out slightly and start to worry. Peering back at Jeongin, his smile is contagious, his dimples showing on his cheeks, and you briefly forget the situation.

“I was looking for you, I need some help with this dumb biology lab report, I’ve calculated the results from the experiment over ten times and they are all coming back as inconsistent or inconclusive, I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. I was wondering if you could help me?” Jeongin looks desperate as he hands you his tablet displaying multiple tables with numbers displayed on the screen.

“When is the report due?” You question, praying it isn’t before midnight tonight.

“It’s due on Sunday, before midnight.” He tells you. Glancing down at your watch, you see it’s currently Friday. Perfect.

“Are you free tomorrow? I am a little busy right now.”

“I’m free in the morning, but in the afternoon, I have a date.” You raise your eyebrow at him, slightly proud of him for getting himself a date, knowing his awkwardness around people he has an interest in.

“I’ll see you in the morning then. Meet me in the library at ten?” The boy seems restless, obviously worried about this lab report.

“Hey Jeongin, it’s okay,” you place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, “we will work it out, just try to get some rest tonight, you need to look good for the lucky person.” At this the young male smiles and gives you, his thanks. He bids you a goodbye, before walking away, likely to his residency.

Looking around you for any sign of people, then surely there is no one near, you make your way to the bush and the sight almost makes you topple over with amusement. Jongho has his head in the bush, yet his entire body is showing, and Seonghwa is lying flat on the grass face down, his body straight and stiff.

“You guys can come out.” You can barely hold back your laughter, tears forming in your eyes. Jongho immediately appears from the bush, his hair messy leaves entwined in his brown locks. Seonghwa takes his time standing up, rubbing his back and complaining about his stiffness.

“For a group of people who is supposedly terrifying, you guys aren’t that scary at all,” you admit, reaching into Jongho’s hair to take out the loose leaves. Seonghwa secretly curses at the younger, wishing he was the one who put his head in the bush.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jongho says, cheeks red from your actions, “Who was that by the way?”

Seonghwa and Jongho both have curious looks on their faces, mixed with something else unreadable. You are starting to get tired of the difficulty reading the eight men you’ve briefly met.

“That was Jeongin, he’s in the same friend group as Jisung,”

“Are you guys close?” Seonghwa asks, acting as if he isn’t interested but you can tell he is slightly curious.

“Not particularly, he comes to me for advice with dating sometimes, he always ends up dating guys who are huge red flags.”

The two men in front of you let out ohs of realisation, feeling suddenly embarrassed about their questions.

“Okay, you guys wait here whilst I get my suitcase.” You turn towards the entrance of the building, but quickly you revolve back around to face Seonghwa and Jongho, “stay away from the bushes.”

The trip to Yeji’s apartment is quick, just throwing the last few things into the suitcase before zipping it up and trudging it down the stairs because of course, the elevator is never in order. As you reach the exit, you use your back to open the door. Weirdly, as you look around, you don’t see the two you left there earlier. You start to think they have abandoned you leaving you to walk back all alone. Or maybe they don’t even want you to come to their house, only playing around with you. They only wanted you to feel secure so they could play with your heart.

“You look lost in thought.” A deep voice is heard from your right, as you look over you see Seonghwa with Jongho and your worries quickly melt away.

“I was starting to think you had left me alone.” You admit, feeling relieved they didn’t disappear into thin air. Your anxious overthinking dispersing very quickly.

“Sorry, we saw a group of people walk out of the building, so we quickly went to the back,” Jongho explains, feeling upset that they made you second-doubt them.

Jongho holds your suitcase, even though you told him not to, he simply ignores your complaints as he walks with it. The way back home is similar to the walk there, however, this time Seonghwa and Jongho pay more attention to their surroundings, knowing there will likely be some creepy men around this area during the late hours of the night, and make sure you feel safe with them. During the quiet walk home, you take this time to think about the past few hours, from arriving at the house to the tour and the occurrence with Yunho. At this moment you decide that you’re not going to cower down from Yunho, you will just live with it. You’ve done it before; you can do it again. Besides, you’re not alone, you have at least seven people who will be kind and welcoming to you. If this is the price you have to pay for an amazing accommodation, then so be it.

The second you reach the house, Mingi throws open the door, extremely relieved you decided to return, his smile covering his entire face.

“I made your bed up, I had some spare bedsheets so that’s what’s on your bed for the time being. We can go shopping for some ones that you like when you have the time.” Mingi smiles at you as you make your way back into the house. When Jongho and Seonghwa send him pointed glares, he simply winks at them, proud he was the first to add something of his own to your room. Jongho lifts your suitcase to your room, causing you to thank him profusely. Mingi and Seonghwa follow closely behind you into your room.

“Do you need help unpacking?” San asks, his head popping around your doorframe.

“I think I’ve got it but thank you.” You reply, hoping they drop the subject.

“Are you sure? We’d be happy to help.” Seonghwa insists, hoping you say yes, just so he can spend more time with you.

“As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer to sort out some of my clothes myself.” You admit, heat crawling up your neck. Immediately, the four men around you realise the meaning behind your statement, and apologies spill from their mouths too, hoping you didn’t view them as some form of perverts. When you start laughing, their hearts swell, happy they didn’t make anything too awkward. Eventually, you manage to usher them out of the room so you can start organizing your things. It takes about five minutes before you get a knock on your door, feeling a little exhausted from the constant attention, you take your time to make your way to open the door. When you open the door, Wooyoung stands there, a flustered smile placed on his features. In his hand is a plate of food. You momentarily feel bad for taking your time to unlock the door.

“We ate dinner when you were fetching your things, I made sure to leave you some. Next time we will eat dinner all together.” He hands you the plate, it is full of a delicious meal, much fancier than all of the instant meals you buy from the supermarket.

“Thank you Wooyoung.” You gratefully take the plate from him.

“Enjoy.” He says before closing the door behind him as he leaves.

You take your time eating the food, revelling in how delicious it is. It’s the first time in a while that you have had a homecooked meal and it warms up your entire body. You could get used to this.

When you finish your meal, you go to the kitchen to wash up your plate and get a drink of water. After washing your plate, you look up at the vast number of cupboards in the kitchen, not remembering the one which holds the glasses. Opening a few, you see plates, bowls, spices, pasta but no glasses.

“Looking for a glass?” A voice speaks from behind you, shocking you, causing you to almost scream out in surprise. You rapidly turn around to see who it is who spoke.

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” the owner of the voice is Hongjoong. His face has an amused grin plastered on it.

“Uh yeah, sorry I wasn’t expecting you to just appear behind me.”

Hongjoong is standing directly against the island, just about a metre between the two of you. Silently, you wonder how on earth he managed to get there without you hearing him.

Instead of going around you to grab a glass, he steps forward, his chest almost colliding with yours, trapping you between the counter behind you and his strong frame. Reaching up, he opens the cupboard directly above your head and takes out a glass, placing it on the counter behind you.

When he looks down at you, your eyes are once again getting entranced by his deep pools of honey. Once again, his eyes are familiar to you. The familiarity of his eyes draws you in impossibly close, your mind racing around various memories to see if you can find a match for the mysterious eyes. Where have you seen them before? It’s almost as if you’ve seen them in a dream, vivid in consciousness yes when you try to remember details, it renders empty in your head. Trying to focus on the situation at hand, you stop your attempts of racking your brain for lost information.

Concentrating back on the man in front of you, he makes you feel awfully small once again. Hongjoong isn’t tall, but the way he’s peering down at you, trapping your body against his, makes him feel at least six feet tall.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out, before turning around and grabbing the glass with a deadly grip.

Hongjoong moves back to his previous position, resting back against the island. His eyes follow you as you fill the glass with water.

“Do you like your room?” Hongjoong is calm as he speaks, acting as if nothing had just happened.

“Yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, cursing yourself in your head telling your brain to make your cheeks cool down.

“That’s great to hear. I hope your bed is nice enough for you, I found it super comfortable.”

“Oh yeah! The bed is super comfortable.” Suddenly, his words hit you and they render in your mind, “How do you know it’s comfortable?”

“It used to be my room, the bed too,” Hongjoong confesses, smirking at the way your body language becomes flustered. This explains why the sheets were messy earlier, but that also means he was sleeping in it today. This very statement causes your mind, to again, burst up into a spiral of thoughts. Did Hongjoong give up his room for you? Of course not, why would he ever do that?

“Oh, that’s nice.” Your head is abruptly full of thoughts of Hongjoong residing in your bed. Why are you even thinking about that? It’s not like he is going to be in your bed from now on.

“I’ll let you get to sleep, tomorrow dinner is at seven. Are you able to make that?” The man with dirty blonde hair asks.

You can only nod in response, your words jumbled in your brain. Luckily you only have one class tomorrow, it finishes late, but you can for sure make it for seven.

Hongjoong’s lips turn up ever so slightly, and he nods back at you before departing the kitchen. As he leaves, you watch his figure move towards the staircase, not able to think straight. You would have been better off not knowing the information he just provided. Why would he even give up his room in the first place, did he move out of it because there was something wrong with it? Maybe there are cockroaches in the room. Then you remember where your house is, there is no chance there are cockroaches in such a clean house. What if Seonghwa and Yunho are super loud? Whatever it is, you are likely to find out soon. Now you wish you had asked Hongjoong why he moved out of the room. You decide to ask him another time, not keen on walking up the stairs after him just to ask one question.

Trudging back to your room, you place your glass on your bedside table and grab your phone that was charging. You immediately message Jisung, telling him that you two needed to talk tomorrow. If there’s anyone you can talk about anything to, it’s your best friend. While Jisung is a little immature and chaotic, he is a great listener when he wants to be. Even if he is sometimes all over the place, his advice is most of the time very good and reasonable.

Jisung immediately sends a message asking if you want to talk now, yet the tiredness of the relentless day has caught up to you and you manage to send him one more message before carrying out your night-time routine. Almost jumping into the huge bed, you’re pleasantly surprised by the rich scent emitting from the sheets. Remembering they are Mingi’s sheets, and also Hongjoong’s bed you feel flustered for being so close to something so personal to the boys. However, your thoughts simply disappear as you feel your eyes starting to get heavier. As you fall into a deep sleep, your mind replays the events of the day, you are excited about the future of you living here. Yet the nervousness residing in the bottom of your stomach is still there, yet you have high hopes it will slowly disappear.

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