#hopefully this is soft and comforting and helps after *that* snatch game

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Fallingforyou

Imagine

Luke Hughes x Latina!reader

synop: a few moments where y/n mistakes Luke's kindness for being best friends, but they mean something more, it always does.

a/n: besties to lovies, the notebook is mentioned ofc, my work feels rusty but hopefully u enjoy ;)

cw: reader gets black eye in non-violent type of way, one cuss word I think, joke about being mugged, drinking, sweetie pie & Lu pet names hehe

You were one of the very few to see Luke Hughes. The turtle under the shell. It took time to see the real him but quickly over time he peaked out every now and then. He didn’t know why but he felt a different kind of my comfort around you. A comfort where you knew wouldn’t judge him. Maybe as a joke you would tease him but both of you knew you didn’t mean any harm. So he let walls come down to a complete stranger. A stranger he had just met, a stranger that he would fall in love with over and over again.

“You need to be more careful."

It was any other game day that you could attend. Wearing his number after you persuaded for him to buy for you. “Who else am I going to represent? Certainly not Jack…no offense.” you joked years earlier when you first started to cheer for him in person. He was surprised to hear you to bring up the idea but quickly got you your jersey the next day.

It was any other game day besides the slowly bruising black eye your friend gave you hours earlier. It was childish really, you two were messing around and dared each other to wrestle on the living room floor, and one maneuver led to your left eye hitting the couch’s arm rest. It hurt like a bitch on impact and the stinging after but the ice your friend placed on your face helped.

You knew Luke would say something so you showed up to the arena with sunglasses, taking them off to see the game clearly but putting them back on to see him after.

“Nice assist Lu,” you hugged him after he changed

“Thanks, what’s up with the shades?” he laughs poking at your glasses

“I thought they looked good with my outfit, what do you think?” You knew you weren’t fooling Luke, you were wearing jeans and his jersey, the basic outfit didn’t really need the sunglasses.

“How could have you seen my assist if you were wearing sunglasses?” His brows raise waiting for your response

You were about to come up with another excuse before Jack runs by snatching said glasses off your eyes, “Nice shades!” He yells as he jogs away, revealing your reddish purple turning bruise right under your eye.

“What the hell happened!?” Luke asks as he steps forward to get a better look, gently turning your head into better light.

“Nothing really, I was messing around and hit my eye on my couch. Don’t touch it.”

“Did you put ice on it?” He asks

“Of course I did Luke. Looks crazy though right?” You were kind of proud to have such an injury, it would heal eventually so why not be proud of it.

But Luke was not on the same wavelength, “Here. We gotta put ice on it." he grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the team's med room

"Luke I have ice at home."

"Just come."

The doc checked your shiner out by Luke's request and to no ones surprise, you were fine. He gave you an ice pack and Luke interrogated you on the way out,

"So what actually happened? You didn't just fall into your soft couch and get a black eye... No one hit you right?" you saw how his eyes slightly squinted

"I got mugged for my phone." you deadpanned. His eyes widened and his fists clenched, "But they clearly didn't win." you waved your phone in front of you with a big grin on your face.

"Thats not funny y/n." his features finally softened

You sucked in your smile into a flat one, "Sorry, me and y/f/n were wrestling and it ended with my face into the couch's hard arm rest and boom." you clapped for dramatics.

"You and y/f/n need to be more careful." he whispered in a stern voice making you smile of how many times Luke has said to be careful. Too many times than he would like that's for sure.

“Yes I can imagine.”

One of the many things Luke had to put up with to be your friend were the late night calls. You always watched your shows and movies at night. Sometimes with him but other nights when he was at his own place, you would call him to rant and give your movie review. This night you couldn't decide on a new movie to watch so you rewatched The Notebook for the nth time and it left you hollow like always.

You dialed Luke’s number mid sob after you finished the movie,

"Y/n what's wrong?" his voice was filled with concern as he heard your cries.

"Luke, you have to watch the notebook." you choke out, mindlessly staring at the rolling credits.

He paused in silence, "I already have y/n, I saw it with you, twice." he emphasized the word twice.

"Then you have to see it a third because it's just too good," you hiccup a sob before you started, "I mean- can you just imagine the love of your life writing you a letter everyday for a whole year and not knowing they existed!? god! it's heart wrenching. Noah Calhoun is the standard." Luke heard the same statement you have made many times before and with the same strong conviction. The change in tone in seriousness had him smiling on the other line holding in a laugh.

"Are you imagining?" you demanded after some silence,

"Yes I can imagine." he said in that sweet voice of his. He did imagine a love like Noah and Allie had. He would write a letter everyday to the love of his life if he knew for sure it wouldn't scare her away. He continued to hear your rambles he had heard before because it's the closest thing he can have insight on your views on love.

“I wish we met when we were kids.”

You were having a very small party for your birthday. You had the night off and wanted a quick but memorable celebration so you and close friends had dinner and a birthday cake in your cozy dinning room. You had help from your friends and Luke to decorate the place and it turned out better than imagined.

After dessert, and recreational drinking, gifts were handed out and it was Luke's turn. The one person you were excited the most to receive. He had gifted you a vinyl record of your favorite album,

"Thanks Lu but I don't have a record player" you laughed nervously

"That's why he bought you one too." Jack who had also been invited, carried a medium sized wrapped box that sounded heavy as he placed it in front of you.

"Dude she was supposed to unwrap it." Luke nagged at his brother spoiling his gift

"Oops, I thought it was obvious he would buy you both." he just shrugged his shoulders.

"I love it. Luke, you sweetie pie, thanks." Luke blushed as you called him his favorite nickname you gave him years ago. You hugged him before unwrapping the second gift. Behind your back Jack gave his little brother a wink.

The rest of the night consisted with setting up the record player and playing the album, playing board games, and more drinking than you should have if you wanted to remember the night. It was a bit too late when Luke had cut you off but the night was ending when people were leaving.

He was half-carrying you to bed when you drunkenly admitted, "You’re a good friend Luke, any girl would be lucky to have you that’s for sure.”

“Thanks,” he whispered as he helped you tuck into bed

“Can you stay with me? At least until I fall I asleep? I always feel lonely when I sleep alone, especially on my birthday.” you asked without any embarrassment.

“Of course.” He kicked off his shoes and got comfortable next to you. It wasn’t uncommon to be so close to one another but Luke always felt his heart race.

You were already under your covers, “Shouldn’t I change into my pjs?”

“You already did y/n.” Luke noted that you were very intoxicated and you wouldn’t remember the next moments.

“Oh crap, when did that happen!” Alcohol also made you delirious.

“An hour before people started to leave, you said you wanted to be comfortable, so now you're wearing your grinch pj pants."

You caressed the soft material, "I love my fuzzy grinch pants." "Hey don't you have a pair too?" you asked Luke from a lingering memory

"Yeah, we have a matching pair," he confirmed

"Because of last christmas... gosh that was a fun break, remember the snowball fight we had! we stayed out so long that your mom forced us to stay inside for the rest of the weekend."

“I remember. That was my favorite christmas.” He admitted,

“That was my first Christmas with all of you guys.” you realized out loud with some clarity.

Luke cleared his throat as he pulled out a small box from his pocket, “I have one more gift for you.”

“Wow. Three gifts. I must be important or something.” you joked as you took the box from his hands,

“You have no idea.” He whispered to himself but you were too preoccupied with untying the box to hear.

You opened the box to find a dainty gold swan necklace. Intoxicated or not you knew what the swan symbolized.

“Is this- what is this?” you asked in disbelief

“You know.” he stated softly

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” You recited the line that always brought you to tears as you traced the minuscule details.

He watched how your tired eyes blinked slowly, “You can wear it in the morning.” He took the box and reached over to put it on your nightstand.

“Thanks Lu. You are way too kind. Scares me sometimes.” you snuggled into his side as a hug

"I wish we met when we were kids," you said.

“Why?” his arms found themselves around you caressing your arms.

“Because I would have spent more time with you. Having the title of growing up with Luke Hughes.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me then.” he said flatly

“I don’t believe that. Some friends of mine weren’t that great but you,” you point into his chest, “you are a true friend everyone should have at least once.”

“I was annoying as a kid.” he tried to deflect your words but it didn’t help.

“All kids are annoying. But you were probably the same sweet shy kid and I would have loved you for it like I do now.”

Luke had wondered the same, if, you two grew up together. Would things be different? Seeing and knowing you for longer than a few years. Luke didn't have to think too much before realizing he would have fallen for you inevitably.

You had cuddled closer to his torso if possible and started to close to your sleepy eyes.

“You should sleep,” he says

“Goodnight Lu”

“Night” he whispered softly

Once you fell asleep, he stayed in your bed a little bit longer. He thought of the nice words you said about him and thought of the possibility of you liking him back. He imagined at least 1% could have been possible. All he knew for sure, all that was admitted and shared that night would be forgotten on your part. He eventually left your place after leaving pills and water next to the gold necklace.

“I fell for you, hard.”

You woke up the next morning, almost afternoon, gulping the pills and water immediately. You noticed the dainty necklace and smile. You don’t remember exactly how you got it but you knew who gave it to you. You wore the necklace for the rest of days ahead.

A few days after your birthday you and Luke had plans to take a night ferry ride to see the city from the water. Another, belated, gift from Luke since you mentioned the idea a long time ago that you don’t remember bringing up.

You two ate dinner at your favorite spot and then headed out to the port.

“And I thought this was my last gift,” you fidgeted with the jewelry over your sweater.

He smiles at your recognition, “You never know, I might have another one after this one.”

“No more gifts please. I can’t compete when it’s your birthday.” you two shared a laugh as the ferry cruised by the city lights.

“As embarrassing it is, I don’t remember you gifting me this.” You motioned to your neck,

“I knew you wouldn’t remember. You were pretty gone by the end of the night.”

“Yeah I’m starting to regret that.” You leaned against the railing staring at the city

“How did you it was me who gifted you it?” He asked following your movements but not staring at the city view.

“Who else knows about my notebook obsession better than you?” You turned to face him, looking up at him even though he leaned down for you.

“Y/n.” his face drops into a serious one

“Luke.” you mimic his tone but with a smile

He breaks into a smile and laughs towards the water.

“You make me go crazy.” he says through a smile still looking ahead

“I didn’t do anything.” you laugh along at his demeanor

“Exactly.” his voice drops again

“I don’t get it.” you chuckle again but with uneasiness

“The night of your birthday. You said you would have loved younger me like you do now if we met then. What did you mean by that?” he turned to you this time.

“I said that?”

“Yes you did.”

“I guess I mean I would love you then like I love you now. You just said it yourself.” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion leaving Luke frustrated.

“But what does that mean? When you say you love me now.”

“You don’t know what love means Lu? C’mon now.” you were deflecting in humor

“I know what love means. I want to know if we’re talking about the same type of love.”

“What type of love are you talking about then?” you asked in the same tone he had been using.

“The one where I gift you a necklace from your favorite movie. The one where I take the girl I’ve been in love with for years to see the city lights. The one where I would write you a letter everyday for a year.” he talked so fast it surprised you.

“You would write me a letter everyday?” is all you could get out.

“In a heartbeat. But I wouldn’t want it to come down to that because in the movie they breakup and that’s when Noah starts writing—“

He rambled off his reason but he was cut off when you pulled him in for a slow and soft kiss that quickly turned passionate. A loud a boat horn interrupts the moment and pulls you both away.

“Why didn’t I see this coming at all?” you asked yourself in his presence

“I don’t know. I thought I made it pretty obvious.” His comment would have made you laugh but you were still digesting that you kissed your best friend.

“I always thought that was you being you. The sweet Lu you always are.”

“I think you’re the only person who has ever seen that ‘sweet Lu’. You’re the only one who calls me sweetie pie.” he laughs as he rubs his neck.

“I mean that why I fell for you. How couldn’t I?”

“Right after we first met, I knew I was falling for you and falling hard.”

“I wish this happened sooner.” you said with teary smile.

He pulled you in and cradled your face, “I’m glad it happened at all.”

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines #luke hughes x y/n

[steddie-thirst]

Four Eyes | Eddie X Fem!Reader |

((DO NOT REPORT THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT DUE TO SHADOW BANNING!))

Warnings: Jason being an asshole, Eddie being Eddie, cursing, bullying, mentions of blood, jason getting his ass handed to him

Summary: Eddie realizes that he's not the only who receives the brunt end of Jason's unrelentless teasing and bullying. Jason uses Eddie's soft spot to get into his head, but ends up getting his own ass kicked.

Eddie always egged Jason on knowing full well the jock couldn't stand being called out or shown up. However, he didn't know that his antics had a domino effect. Jason had learned his lesson after one particular encounter with Eddie. The jock got his ass handed to him, so he relented to just throwing words instead of hands towards the freak.

However, no sooner then this started you had joined Hawkins for your senior year. Hoping there would be much fun and many friends to make along the way. You had not expected to become the target of a certain jock's unrelenting anger and hate.

Until today. Eddie had been on yet another one of his lunchroom tabletop rants when he called Jason out, yet again. "-Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!" The metalhead shouted voice growing progressively louder as he spoke. Turning everyone's gaze towards him and Jason.

"You want something freak?" He stands going head to head with Eddie. The boy retaliated to his question by sticking his tongue out and forming two little horns by his head imitating the image on his shirt. Jason huffed and sat back down mumbling to himself, "Prick.."

Eddie chuckled turning back around huffing as he continued, "It's forced conforming-" He jumps down off the table, "-That's what's killing the kids!" He shouted nearly running into another student. Eddie locks eyes with you and he smiled stepping aside allowing you to walk past. The metalhead watched after you and couldn't help the smile that made it's way onto his face. He quietly took back to his seat and with his friends noticing the change in his behavior decided to leave it be.

You were new so no friends, and no social status, which led you to sit alone during lunch. Just for now hopefully. Jason had watched the interaction between you and Eddie, clocking you as you walked over to a table all alone. He stands up and walks over to you.

Dustin had noticed the way Jason was approaching you and reached over to nudge Eddie. The brunette looked to the curly-haired child and huffed, "What is with you Hend-"

"Look." He urgently gestured over to the table off in the far corner. Eddie snaps his head in that direction watching Jason march over to you.

"You don't think he'd do anything right?" Mike asked suddenly super nervous. Eddie shares a concerned gaze with the two young boys.

"No, I'm his target." Eddie brushed away the worry by making this statement, but Dustin just had to interject.

"No offense, Eds. But ever since you kicked his ass he hasn't bothered to physically make any sort of move, it's been words and empty threats." Eddie hated to admit, but the kid was right. Jason had not even bothered aside from his rants. Jason was changing tactics towards the new girl. You.

"Hey there." Your gaze travels away from your lunch box and up at the blonde standing in front of you. Easily he was recognizable. "Hi, Jason." You greeted back politely. He smiles towards you, but it holds a double meaning. You reach up to adjust the glasses on your nose and Jason laughs.

"Can I help you?" You ask him and he leans forward on his forearms. He eyes your face making you un-comfortable as he stares into your eyes. "Nope." He suddenly snatches the item from your face. He climbs up on the table. You stand up quickly trying to grab the object, but end up slipping and falling down to the floor, pulling your lunch down with you. The milk carton falls on your head spilling over your hair, face, and clothing. The peanut-butter and jelly sandwich you had packed toppling down and sticking into your hair.

"Haha, God." Jason laughed down at your pitiful form. He watches as your eyes fill to the brim with tears mixing with the milk still spilling down your cheeks. The whole cafeteria burst into laughter at you and Jason crouches down and you whimper. "Clumsy, bitch. Can't fucking see without these. Fuckin four eyes." He tosses them at your face and you burst into a full sob and stormed out of the room.

The Hellfire table was the only one silent out of the entire cafeteria. Eddie looked back at the group. "Shit.." Dustin muttered. The guitarist stood up pushing his chair back and walking over to the exit. Jason turned his head just in time for Eddie to slug him across the face and the room erupted into a bunch of 'ooohs' and gasps.

He leaned over to Jason when he recovered, "I'm going to kick your ass if you touch her again." The boy was shaking as the metalhead stood over him, but then backed off following after you. He followed the trail of milk to an empty classroom, the door only open a crack. Eddie could hear you crying from the other side of the door. He knocks alerting you of his presence.

"G-Go away!" You hiccup sniffles following after. You sounded awful and Eddie could not just walk away. He pushes the door open and you stare back at him, knees pulled to your chest, and arms crossed over them hugging yourself. The sight broke his heart and he crouched down in front of you. He smiles not in a sinister way but a caring and genuine smile. It almost makes you smile it was contagious.

"You know-" He starts, "Princesses aren't supposed to cry." He tells you and you wipe your tears away with your sleeve.

"M'Not a princess." You argue gently. Eddie shakes his head messy curls bouncing around his shoulders as he moved.

"But you are." He presses. You finally manage a smile and Eddie sighs. "There it is."

"What?" You ask reaching up to your face.

"The prettiest smile in all of Hawkins." Eddie reaches over you and removes a piece of bread from you hair, brushing some stray strands out of the way. The touches made your heart flutter. In many ways Eddie was many things, but a monster he was not. He was more like a knight. Your knight in shining armor.

"Now, come milady. We cannot have our princess sitting by herself and covered in filth." You giggle. "And of course--" He removes something from his pocket, your glasses, you could see Eddie partially but without them everything was blurry. When you had full vision Eddie was dangerously close offering his ring-clad hand for you to take. You eagerly take his hand and he pulls up, with a little to much force, because you collapse into his arms no doubt covering his shirt in your lunch.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologize and Eddie shakes his head.

"It's fine. Let's get you cleaned up. I'll give you a ride home." As the two of you walked Eddie let you hold onto his arm for comfort still reeling from Jason's assault on you earlier.

"And if Jason ever touches you again I'll kick his as M'kay?" You nodded and smiled at him.

"Okay, Eds."

Eds? That was new. No one had ever given him a nickname before. He was going to get used to that.

#stranger things season 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson gif #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fandom #x reader #joesph quinn #eddie my beloved #eddie i love you #eddie my love

[phrynewrites]

4/5/6 please! I feel like they could go together well! With jasco because I too need to emotionally recover from that

Alright it’s time to throw it back to teachers au and enjoy some soft, comfortable morons during the great snowstorm. Enjoy!

4. I can’t see anything

5. I heard a noise

6. Scary movies are for chumps

—

“I can’t see anything.”

“Well, if you give me back at least one of my hands, I can get my phone and turn on the flashlight,” Bosco retorted, though missing the usual lick of severity that trailed along with it.

Jasmine let go, wrapping herself around their arm instead, somehow finding comfort in the slippery fabric of their shirt.

In the light, the school’s breaker room was even more unsettling. Now that she could see the loose rusted screws lining the concrete floor, the mold peeking through the cracks in the cinderblock walls, the single, hanging lightbulb with a string that wouldn’t work even if the power weren’t out, Jasmine felt her stomach drop. She dug her nails into Bosco’s arm, fully knowing they’d remind her that she’d pay their dry cleaning bill for the wrinkles she’s causing.

Jasmine didn’t want to be down here in the first place, and she imagined, despite their steely exterior, Bosco didn’t want to either. In fact, she knew they didn’t, as they were ‘in the middle of a very good sudoku puzzle’ when the power went out and Jasmine first became clingy.

But when they went to Angeria’s office to try and get her to call the district office or find a custodian who could tell her how to fix it, all they found was a closed, locked door, shades drawn, and a string of profanities in a British accent followed by a moan.

So Bosco decided to fix it themself, claiming that “they were already disturbed from their puzzle, so…whatever.” And Jasmine simultaneously decided to go with, reasoning that if she had to be stuck in a pitch-black school, she’d want Bosco by her side—and that she’d hold the flashlight as Bosco fiddled with the breaker, which they’d accepted.

“Jazzy,” they tisked. “There’s nothing to be afraid of down here. It’s just a weird ass room with no windows, one door, and a set of termite-stricken stairs that could cave at any moment, leaving us trapped down here forever.”

Jasmine tugged their arm, bringing them closer, burying her face in their arm. She muttered, “shut up, shut up, shut up,” over and over, squeezing her eyes shut.

With Bosco bringing their other arm around to turn Jasmine toward them, their hand resting on her waist, playing with the hem of her cardigan, Jasmine began to calm down and fold herself agains their chest. And when Bosco rested their chin on top of her head, their hair brushing against Jasmine’s cheeks, leaving it’s light floral scent behind, she could nearly forget that there was an odd, dank scent to the room, that there were suspicious brown markings on the far wall, and that these things should make her fear more.

Until she heard a creak.

“No, no, no.” Jasmine fisted their shirt. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to stain the cream fabric with her mascara and tears, but she felt it welling up. “I heard a noise. Bosco, what’s that noise? There’s something here with us. What’s here with us?”

It was short, spilling out in between shallow sobs.

“Jasmine, I just—”

“I think we’re going to die down here.” She shook her head and dug in deeper, pressing her face in so hard she could feel Bosco’s shorter necklaces imprinting in her chin. “This is like a scary movie and the two of us have broken off from the group and now we’re going to be found by the killer and sawed apart and-”

“Usually when the two break off it’s to go…never mind. Scary movies are for chumps anyway, babe.”

There it was again. That same creak, coming through like an echo of the first.

“Sorry, sorry, princess.” Bosco cut her off before she could begin. “I just opened the breaker box. It’s so rusted, I’m surprised it made that noise instead of falling apart.”

Jasmine nods, pulling back tentatively, only to find that her and Bosco had made it to the breaker box.

Bosco’s hand trails from her waist to the back of her head, smoothing down her hair. And when Jasmine’s breathing proves steady, when she’s looking up at Bosco, their face sharp, well sculpted in the faint yellow light, Bosco leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

They mutter against her hair, “I’ve got you Jas.”

#for anon #thank you for the ask hun #hopefully this is soft and comforting and helps after *that* snatch game #jasco #jasco teachers au #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr fanfic #rpdr fic #phryneff #asks answered

[birdiefw]

JJ MAYBANK | NOT SO SNEAKY

Summary: You and JJ had been dating for a little over a month and have unintentionally made it your thing to kiss whenever your friends weren’t paying attention.

Warnings: swearing, drug use, sexual innuendos

A/N: It’s been some time since I wrote something like this so I’m sorry for any mistakes! I’d love to make more, though, so feel free to send in requests!

[not my gif]

It all started with a quick kiss late one night. You don’t know what came over you, but as soon as Pope turned his back to you and JJ, you were leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on JJ’s cheek. He was caught off guard by it as you’d both agreed you didn’t want your friends to know just yet, but he’d just smiled and returned the affection — seconds before Pope turned back around and continued to explain why he wanted to be a coroner. From that moment, you and JJ would steal kisses whenever you could when you were around your friends. When it was just you two, there were plenty of kisses, but doing it around your friends — it made it more exciting with the thought of being caught.

At the moment, you and JJ were impatiently waiting in John B.’s Volkswagen with Pope and Kiara while John B. was searching all through his home for his favorite surfboard. You and the Pogues were planning on going to the beach to catch some waves before the storm rolled in, but John B. was having trouble finding his own board. Pope was sat up front and reading a book you’d forgotten the name of already, Kiara leaning against the side of the van, leaving only you and JJ in the back. “Is he sure it isn’t already—”

“Do any of us look like John B. to you?” You teased Pope, cocking a brow towards the boy when he glanced over his shoulder to look in your direction.

“I’m just saying!” Pope defended meekly, shaking his head as he face forward. “It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot it was already on the roof.”

Kiara let out an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes. It shouldn’t be taking him this long. “I’m gonna go help him look,” she stated, pausing to look inside the van towards you.

You raised your brows expectantly, unsure of what she was wanting. “Okay?”

“Are you sure you wanna be left alone with dumb and dumber?” Kiara asked, unsure as to why you were willingly remaining in the back with JJ as he was expertly rolling a joint you would/wouldn’t be taking hits of later.

You snickered, your smile widening by the offended expressions on Pope and JJ’s face. You nodded, ignoring the sharp glare you were receiving from your boyfriend when you didn’t defend him. “I think I can handle them,” you replied reassuringly. “Besides, this one needs two people watching him at all times to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid,” you said, nudging your head in JJ’s direction.

Kiara chuckled, backing towards the Chateau. “Suit yourself, Y/N.”

With that, Kiara jogged off towards the house so they could hopefully leave sooner rather than later. You let out a content sigh once she was out of sight and pulled out your phone to check your notifications. You were going to reply to a text, but you froze when you felt JJ’s breath fan against your exposed neck. You didn’t dare move, afraid it’d capture Pope’s attention.

Your eyes darted aside, but all you saw was a smug smirk on JJ’s face the closer he got closer to you. “Better be still,” he whispered, softly pressing his lips to your skin. Your eyes instinctively fluttered closed, tilting your head to give him more access — it only made his dimpled smirk widen proudly. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, and you hated how he was affecting you so much with only the little pecks. He was such a tease, and though you enjoyed it at times, so were you. He hated it when you teased him, though. But after all, this was a game for the both of you, and you weren’t going to let him be the only one daring to do something with Pope so close to you two and within eyesight.

You suddenly moved so you and JJ were side by side, your hand going to hold the back of his neck. His eyes widened in excitement, your lips pressing to his lips before he had time to think. He kissed you back hungrily, one of his hands going to your lower back. You playfully bit his lip and he let out a huff, wanting more. However, you pulled away just as quickly and glanced down to your phone as if nothing had just happened.

Pope turned to face you two, noting JJ’s flushed appearance after he heard an odd sound come from the blond. “Dude, are you okay?”

JJ scoffed, clenching his jaw. He didn’t dare look at you, but you knew you’d succeeded. “Yeah, just peachy.”

You smirked to yourself and went back to scrolling through your phone. JJ finished rolling his joint with his heart still thumping loudly in his chest with an ache for more. He carefully placed it to his lips and went to light it, but it was swiftly snatched away by Pope. You winced, knowing JJ didn’t like it when someone did that — especially when he was wanting it to relax him after you’d started something you weren’t going to be finishing anytime soon.

“Bro!” JJ gaped, attempting to take it back.

Pope shook his head and held it further away from his friend, glaring. “Not in the van, bro!”

“I just want a lil taste! It’ll be so quick you won’t even smell it!” JJ defended, trying to grab it again. Pope slid out of the passenger side, daring JJ to make a move.

“Didn’t you already get a taste?” John B. replied instead, cradling his surfboard under his arm with Kiara walking beside him, something unfamiliar on her stunning features. Pope frowned while you and JJ had confused expressions etched on your faces. Surely they didn’t know. John B. rolled his eyes and pointedly glanced between you and JJ, causing your heart to sink. “Are you serious right now? You two aren’t very sneaky.”

Your face paled in realization, lips parting. They knew?

JJ remained calm, feigning further confusion. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

Kiara moved closer to the van, her arms folded over her chest and head titled. “Cut the bullshit, JJ,” she said, faintly smiling. Then her eyes flickered go you. “Really, Y/N? JJ of all people?”

Your cheeks turned pink, a groan leaving your lips as you pushed your face into your hands. JJ grunted and threw his hands up in the air, eyes pinned to you. “We could’ve fooled them if you’d just tried a little harder, baby!”

“No, you couldn’t have,” Pope retorted, climbing back inside with JJ’s joint hidden in place the surfer boy would never find it; for now. You moved to sit closer to JJ, giving Kiara more room to enter the back of the van while John B. made his way to the drivers side so you all could get going. “I saw you guys at the movies.”

“Movies?” Kiara repeated, face scrunched together. “I saw them at the beach the week before.”

You and JJ briefly glanced to each other, slightly amused. You hadn’t intended for your friends to find out yet, or this way at least, but you were glad they didn’t seem to mind it; you hated the no pogue on pogue macking rule and feared that your friends wouldn’t approve of you and JJ. Thankfully, they felt otherwise. “Wait, how long has this been going on?” Pope wondered, eyes burning into you and JJ for answers.

You pursed your lips in thought, glancing down to your wrist that did not have a watch wrapped around it. “Five weeks, two days, and 16 minutes.”

JJ laughed under his breath, not having any problems with wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side to let everyone know you were in fact his. John B. faintly smiled, but it was suddenly replaced by a frown as he faced the crew. “Hang on,” he said, blinking in surprise, but his eyes were on Pope and Kiara. “You two already knew about this?”

Pope and Kiara nodded in unison. “Well duh. Didn’t you?” Kiara laughed.

“They’re weren’t very discreet,” Pope said, momentarily pausing. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug.

John B. scoffed, his brows knitted together. “I only found out today!”

You giggled, reaching forward to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, John B.,” you said kindly. “Despite what Pope and Kie say, we were pretty good at hiding it for a while.”

“Sure, Y/N,” Kie teased.

You gave her a playful shove, making her let out a loittke augh. Your body curled further into JJ’s side once John B. started up the Volkswagen and began heading towards the awaiting beach. You let out a content sigh as you relaxed in your boyfriends safe arms, smiling to yourself when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, just because we know now doesn’t mean you can be all lovey-dovey whenever you want,” Pope playfully scolded when he saw the kiss.

John B. chuckled, stealing a look in the rear view mirror. “Save it for the bedroom.”

“Oh, we will,” JJ smugly said, grinning from ear to ear. You whacked his arm in disgust and Kie grimaced, facing the window. JJ only chuckled and tightened his grip on you, making you feel at ease with the world.

Though your friends now knew about you and JJ, you had a feeling that you and JJ would happily continue to try and get as many kisses in without your friends noticing the exchanges, and you didn’t mind one bit.

————

A/N: PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO LEAVE OR MESSAGE ME SOME REQUESTS!

#john b routledge #john b #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj x kiara #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #pope heyward #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #rudy pankow #chase stokes #kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #jj outer banks #topper #madison bailey #madelyn cline #jj maybank smut

[softykooky]

sanctuary: six

summary: leaving your father was easy. leaving them? well...that’s a different kind of strength. 7.9k words.

genre: mafia au, fluff, major angst

pairing: ot7 x reader

warnings:  toxic and dysfunctional familial relationships, mentions of domestic abuse (physical and verbal), swearing, ptsd & trauma, poor mental health, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, reader goes to therapy, hurt, argument/yelling, the boys are mean...

author’s note: i made you guys wait long enough hehe :) hope you like it, please let me know what you think! and please take notice of the warnings!! they are there for a reason <3

♡ series masterpost ♡

Your nightmares have gotten better...somewhat. Better in the sense that you don’t let them carry over as much to the next day. Better in the sense that now, there are seven smiling faces that greet you every morning to help the fear dissolve. But they still relent as strong as ever, and make you toss and turn every single night with no pity. 

They’ve gotten more frequent since that meeting with your father. More vivid. Some nights, your nightmares are so bad that you just end up migrating over to Taehyung’s room right next to you and sleeping on the edge of the bed (though you just end up wrapped around each other in the morning). Taehyung never bats an eye. Only opens the side of his thick duvet for you to crawl into and flicks on a lamp because he knows you don’t like the dark after a nightmare. 

Tonight is no different. From the other side of the wall, Taehyung can hear your pained whimpers and mumbles that he can barely make out. Your sheets rustle as your body protests the vivid dream, and he can’t help but to bolt out of his comfortable position to check up on you. You’re still deep in restless sleep when he opens the door and approaches your bed. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, please wake up”, he soothes, caressing the side of your face with one hand. “It’s just a dream.”

The yellowing bruise on your cheek has begun to fade, but it still makes their blood boil every time they catch sight of it. Seeing it right now makes Taehyung want to burn the entire city down and your father along with it. But he is here for you. And Taehyung (and the other six) cannot be anything but soft towards you. 

“Baby, wake up”, he says again, louder this time and it makes you begin to stir out of sleep. You quiet at the contact of his skin but your eyes remain closed and that fitful frown is still on your face. Taehyung doesn’t know that his mere presence brings you comfort. Even when you’re not conscious. 

He takes the authority to nestle under the covers next to you and it’s as if your body just naturally gravitates to his, tucking yourself into his arms like a linking puzzle piece. It’s a selfish reason, and Taehyung doesn’t want to tell anyone, though he has a feeling the guys already know and also share his belief. But he secretly treasures the moments that he gets with you, even if it is for a heartbreaking reason such as nightmares. 

He loves the feeling of your body next to his, and the blankets that get just a little too overheated because the both of you are human furnaces. He loves the gentle thud of your heartbeat on those nights that he holds you closer than normal, when you shake like a leaf through your dreams and he is your tether to the ground. 

And to think, just a while ago he was yelling at you from the other side of the wall, complaining about your loud crying. He wants to go back in time and kick himself. Taehyung’s scared. He’s never really cared for someone like this before. 

You are already safely stowed away in his wide chest when a shadow walks by the room. Taehyung is not surprised when Yoongi creaks the bedroom door open, and not surprised when he sees Jimin in tow. 

“We heard her all the way from upstairs.” Yoongi mutters through a yawn. Jimin just sighs and looks at your sleeping figure with concern and longing. The two men shuffle into the room and as Jimin lifts up the blanket to flank your other side, Yoongi sets himself at the foot of the bed. Not that any of them lacked space, of course. The boys made sure your room was properly equipped with a large California king. 

“It’s been getting worse. I don’t know what to do. I want to help her, but I-” 

Taehyung finds himself getting choked up through his words. They all feel the same way. It’s just that there’s been too many nights where he’s had to hold your broken pieces together while you scream out the ghosts of what has happened to you. If it’s too much to bear for the seven of them, looking from the outside, they can’t imagine how it must feel for you. 

Jimin reaches over, your body nestled between the two of them, and inserts his hand inside Taehyung’s, caressing the thumb back and forth of his skin. 

“I guess all we can do is be here on the nights that are difficult.” Yoongi tilts his head so that he’s looking at you, still drifting off in your dream with a pained expression on your face.

“She’ll get through this. She’s strong.” 

The words that Yoongi whispers into the night air of your bedroom are hopeful. Uncharacteristic for a man like him, but when it comes to you, optimism is the only choice. He’ll allow himself to have hope if it’s for you. 

The four of you fall back into shallow sleep, and time passes by differently when it’s night time and your bones cry for rest. They fall in and out of consciousness for a minute or a couple hours, none of them are sure. All they can focus on is their worry, and you continue to battle through your war of bad dreams. Jimin and Taehyung awaken again when you begin to stir.

You quiver like you’re cold, even when you’re sandwiched in between two warm bodies and they both snuggle in to hold you even closer. But you remain lost to your nightmare and begin to cry tears that drip down and dampen the fabric of Taehyung’s pajama shirt. He knows you’ll apologize profusely for that in the morning, but he couldn’t give less of a damn about his shirt. The feeling of you crying in his arms makes him feel like an utter failure. 

Jimin wipes away the wet trail that the tear left behind on your skin, and wants to cry himself. He doesn’t know how to take your pain away, and wants to scream because sleep is the only time where you can truly rest and the universe deprives you of even that. 

“I’m so sorry, princess. We’re here.” He whispers to your unhearing ears. “We’ll be here.”

When your cries begin to get loud and your muttering becomes pained, the door is softly opened again. This time, it reveals a wide-awake Jungkook and a not so awake Hoseok. Yoongi rolls his eyes but can’t help the fond smile that paints his lips. 

“Jungkook, I told you to stop staying up so late playing video games.” he whisper-scolds, and Jungkook looks sheepish in the lowlight of your bedroom. They’re not surprised by his late night antics by any means, and they’re also not surprised that he abandoned them to check up on you. They all know Jungkook has an unreasonably tender spot for you. 

“Is it her dreams again?”, Hoseok says, pure worry leaking out of every word and staring at your impossibly small self in Taehyung’s hold. There’s no annoyedness in his tone. They’re all just deathly concerned about you. 

Pushing Hoseok inside the room and quietly closing the door behind him, Jungkook situates himself on the loveseat next to the bed, while Hoseok just plops on the plush rug, snatching a throw pillow and tucking it under his head. Jimin sweeps a stray hair away that had fallen into your face. 

Though they’re all trying to close their eyes and sleep, they all know that tonight will be a restless one. If you are not peacefully sleeping, they won’t be able to either. And it seems that that statement applies to all of them, when not even 10 minutes pass until Namjoon and Seokjin make their way to your bedroom, for the same reason as the other five. They wordlessly set out pillows and blankets on the floor beside your bed, nestling into each other for warmth and hoping that you can feel their sincerity even in sleep. And if anyone could see them now: big, bad mafia bosses cuddling together to help you through a night of bad dreams, Bangtan would force them to sign non-disclosure agreements. For you though, they could do this for hundreds of nights. 

When all seven are there, you miraculously slumber peacefully through the night. For the first time since Taehyung crept into your room, you are resting comfortably, quiet and undisturbed. And when you start snoring, Taehyung wants to cry with sheer relief. It was as if your subconscious vied for the presence of all the boys, and now that you have it, they finally allow themselves to drift off as well. 

The last thing you expected when you woke up this morning was to be dripping in sweat and much too aware of the extra three bodies on the bed with you. Ones you don’t remember going to sleep with last night. You have no recollection, just remembered that you went to sleep alone and now the seven men you’ve grown far too fond of were in the room with you, still snoozing the day away. 

At the foot of your bed, Yoongi stretches his limbs and groans when the sunlight peaks through the curtains into his eyes. He squints away the sleep and smiles dopily at you from under a blanket. Hopefully he doesn’t notice the way you practically melt at just his gaze. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” His throaty morning voice makes you blush two shades of red. 

“Good morning”, you whisper back, not wanting to wake any of them up. They just look so adorable and so completely exhausted. Yoongi bets that all of them would rather forfeit their positions as mafia bosses before telling you it’s because they stayed up all night worrying about you. “Um…”, you murmur, eyes darting around the room, “why are you all in here?” 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to admit how whipped they actually are for you. 

“You were...having bad nightmares. So we wanted to come make sure you were okay.” 

Your eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, and it reminds you of when Namjoon had done the same for you all those nights ago. It makes your heart ache and bloom at the same time because well..no one’s really cared enough to do something like this for you. Something so simple yet significant. You blink away the mistiness in your eyes, looking around the room once again. 

Three of them are on your bed. The rest are distributed across the floor and Jungkook’s slung uncomfortably on a chair. When you look back at Yoongi, it seems like he already knows all the thoughts running through your head. He already knows the words you want to say, but don’t know how to articulate. 

“We’ll do this every night if we have to, Y/N. For as long as it takes.” 

You leap from your spot under the blankets to wrap Yoongi in a bear hug, burying your face in his shoulder as he buries his in your hair. Though you are overheated from the cuddling and still dazed from sleep, you hold him with as much sincerity as you can muster. You have a feeling he can tell when he holds you back just as warmly. 

The movement makes Jimin and Taehyung wake in unison and as they rub the fatigue from their eyes and land on the sight of you perfectly swathed in Yoongi’s arms, the two of them think it’s a sight they could get used to waking up to. They wonder if you feel the same way. 

“Thank you.” Your words are airy and light in his ear, but Yoongi knows their true weight. He doesn’t say anything. Just plants a soft kiss on the side of your temple and relishes in the scent of your shampoo. 

When he stares past your shoulders, he meets the gaze of Jimin and Taehyung, who are fondly peering at the two of you. Years of being with each other, they’ve learned to communicate certain things without having to say anything. And right now, in the gentle morning light, the realization is beginning to seep in. 

Perhaps the way they care about you is more what they had expected. 

Living with the seven of them is an adjustment. Getting accustomed to a rhythm and routine in a house that’s the headquarters of an underground powerhouse is easier said than done. You were constantly surrounded with uncertainty and tiptoeing danger but you had never felt unsafe. They were there. And as long as you had them, this house was sanctuary. 

You’re not in any immediate danger. Your father had basically agreed to leave you alone for the foreseeable future and the media had begun to calm down. However, when the tides have settled, the boys are able to see you up close and personal and at all the ugly scares you’ve tried to hide from everyone. They’re able to see what those years of trauma has done to you. 

Whenever someone’s voice booms too loudly across the mansion, yelling orders at subordinates or for any other reason, you start to quiver like a leaf in the wind. When one of them reaches towards you too quickly, for simple things like a wave or to hold your hand, you can’t help but to flinch in anticipation. And you try to hide it, but it’s impossible not to notice. 

They notice everything. 

They always do, when it comes to you. 

With every mannerism and survival instinct that has been involuntarily drilled into your subconscious, they all grow angrier that you’ve been subjected to this pain. Hoseok has had to talk Namjoon down from sending their entire fleet to dismantle the ambassador a couple too many times as they continue to learn how deep the trauma with your father truly runs.

“Y/N…”, Jin hesitantly mutters, fiddling with the food on his plate nervously, “have you ever thought about...going to therapy?” 

You freeze in between a chew and swallow, eyes staring into his with an innocent deer-in-the-headlights expression. You look like you might have a panic attack, and Jin is quick to cut the tension. 

“N-not that we’re forcing you to do it, my love. It’s only a suggestion. It’s just that..maybe it would be good for you. To talk about things and get professional help.” By the way he says it, and the way the other boys are staring at you expectantly, you realize this is something they’ve probably been discussing for a while now. And though it’s heartwarming to know that they care about your health, the idea of going to therapy is deathly daunting. 

“I don’t know, guys…” You twist your hands in your lap, a nervous habit to show your discomfort and they all instantly regret bringing this up at all. You keep your gaze glued downwards. You’re afraid that if you look up, you’ll just see disappointment from the ones that you’ve grown to care about so much. You don’t think you could handle it. 

“Could you look at us, Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice is soothing and there is no single trace of anger or frustration. You slowly tilt your head upwards and meet his eyes. 

“At the end of the day, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If you don’t want therapy, then fuck therapy, princess.” 

Namjoon feels gratification when his statement makes you smile, and his heart suspiciously flutters in his chest. 

“But we just want the best for you. We all want you to heal because…”, Namjoon looks around and makes eye contact with the rest of the boys, whom he knows share his same feelings. 

“You’re so important to us.” 

You’ve known this. You know that they care about you even when your mind forces you to doubt that anyone does. But when you hear it like this, so raw and unfiltered with sincerity leaking in every letter, it ignites something that you haven’t felt in a long time. 

Hope. 

You take a glance next to you at Jungkook, whose warm smile makes your lungs feel like molten honey. At Yoongi, who looks back at you with gentle eyes. At Hoseok, who is impossibly soft with you. At them all. It makes you realize something:

You don’t want to go to therapy. It’s scary and you’re not really sure if you want to talk about your father or your family or anything that happened before you met Bangtan. But you have people who care about you now. And if you didn’t want to do this for yourself, then, well... you would do it for them. 

“You don’t have to decide now, but-”

“I’ll do it.” Your voice slices through Taehyung’s words. “I’ll go to therapy.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”, Hoseok questions. Though he wants you to very badly, he wants you to do it on your own terms. And though your statement is strong, he can see the doubt and uncertainty swimming in your irises. 

“No, not really.” you whisper, and they practically deflate so you are quick to remedy their dejection. 

“But...I know that I want to get better. I know it’s going to be hard, but I want to get better.” You take a deep breath.

“For you. All of you.” 

The room falls silent, and the noise of clinking cutlery against porcelain plates stills. They could only look at you and wonder what country they have saved in their past lifetime to deserve to stumble upon someone like you. Someone so wonderful, and so damaged but so determined to heal. For them. For all of them. 

Jungkook scoops your hand in his, and when you look in his eyes, you are stunned to see that there are unshed tears pooling at his waterline. He looks at you and there’s something in his gaze that you can’t place. Something lovely that makes you feel like all this hurt has been worth it. Jungkook looks at you like there is something worth looking at. 

“We love…” From your other side, Jimin starts speaking, but cuts himself off halfway through and suspiciously glances around the table, meeting the gaze of the six other boys who already know how he wants to finish that sentence. But he doesn’t. 

“W-We love that you want to do that for us”, he coughs, and you return it with a smile. 

Did a part of you want him to say something different? Something deeper? You’re not sure, but the tinge of disappointment in your stomach that follows his words is a sign. 

Could you allow yourself to think that someone could actually genuinely like you past platonicity? Much less seven powerful men? After years of your father telling you the complete opposite, accompanying each scathing word with a bruise, it’s difficult to believe anything different. 

Therapy was, in a word, completely exhausting. It was tiring dancing around the subject of your father’s abuse, your mother’s neglect, Soyeon’s blatant denial and just the complete package of being the eldest daughter to Ambassador Yoo. When they all had scheduled you for 4 sessions a week, you immediately wanted to decline and opt for one. But their eyes had all looked so hopeful. So excited for you to get professional help, and there was no possible way you could have turned them down. 

Progress is frustratingly slow, though. Some days you just want to quit.

 You plop unceremoniously on the large plush sofa, grabbing the nearest throw pillow and cradling it to your chest. The boys are all in the other room, but are now fully aware of your presence after you slammed the front door and huffed your way to the comforting couch. They can practically feel the rays of stress emanating from you. 

“Y/N? Baby? What’s wrong?” Jimin is the one that first approaches, and the rest stare on with concern leaking out of every pore. And when you reply with a sniffle and hiccup, their hearts all collectively break. 

You feel a dip in the couch and crane your neck to lock your teary eyes with Jimin’s, whose brows are deeply furrowed. You involuntarily launch into his arms, tucking your face into his neck, and inhaling his cologne that always manages to calm you down. You hear them all shuffle around you. 

“It’s just..”, your voice pitifully cracks, “hard.” From your position, they are thankful you cannot see the heartbreak in their expression. It’s so hard for them to see you as anything but happy. 

“I don’t know if I can do it”, you breathe out, feeling a new wave of tears begin to rise. You want to cry even more at the thought that they would be more disappointed in you. .

But there is a warmth from your other side, and you don’t know who it belongs to as it sits next to you. 

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N”, Namjoon whispers oh-so-softly. They are such simple words. Arguably mundane and ordinary. Then why does it knock the wind right out of your chest? Why does it light up your dark tunnel? He’s proud of you. They all are. Even when you are an emotional mess with low mental energy, Namjoon is sitting next to you and telling you that he’s proud. 

You erupt into heart wrenching sobs that won’t seem to stop no matter what you do. It’s the kind of cry that feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A cry that comes straight from your core and it sounds painful but truthfully, it’s just relieving. You know that all of them are worried out of their minds. You can feel it in the way Jimin shakily holds you as tight as he can, as if you are delicate chipped porcelain in his arms. 

But this is how you rebuild. With the seven of them by your side. You tell Namjoon to cancel your future therapy sessions the next day. Your psychologist was far short of revolutionary, and when they all asked you why, you admit that it’s not the therapy that’s helping you get better. 

It was just them. Being around them. Talking to them. 

It was Seokjin carding his hands through your hair and rubbing out the tension that always inevitably develops in your temples. It was Namjoon letting you lounge quietly in his office as he goes through paperwork, enjoying your presence as much as you enjoy his. It was Yoongi and Hoseok rambling to you about their adventures on the field (leaving out the gory details, of course. They wanted to keep you innocent and soft). It was Taehyung sneakily replacing your pink peonies as soon as the first petal began to wilt, even after the infinite amount of times you told him it was unnecessary. It was Jungkook and Jimin making excuses to spend the afternoon snuggled up on your bed when you all knew it was simply because they wanted to hold you. 

It was all of them tiptoeing around affection, craftily sneaking in spare kisses and touches on the skin. Holding you a little longer than necessary, a little more tenderly. Intertwining your hands under the dinner table, or when their subordinates weren’t looking. 

You notice the way they blush more often, if you let your touch linger for too long, or if you brush past them and make skin contact. You notice how pet names are easier to spill from their lips; ones like: my love, honey, sweetheart, baby...and you can’t help but to completely indulge in the way it is addressed only for you.  Little ways to subliminally tell you that perhaps you meant more to them than they were ready to admit. And you would be lying if you said your feelings for the seven of them were completely platonic. You would be lying if you said love wasn’t on the brain. 

Perhaps you are the missing piece to a puzzle they hadn’t realized was unfinished. 

“Hyung...I think I love her.” Jungkook is unsurprisingly the first one to voice it. The six others don’t even bat an eye. 

“No, Jungkook. I know you love her”, Hoseok whispers back in the tense silence of their meeting room. You are fast asleep on the floor above, but their hearts call out to you through the short distance. 

“I am too. We all are.” It is a truth they’ve known for a while. Sooner than they’re proud to admit. 

“I guess now all we have to do is figure out how to tell her.” 

They did want to. Tell you, that is. They wanted to shout it from the rooftops and make it known to the world that you are the angel that has snatched their hearts without even realizing it herself. If it hadn’t been for the disaster that suddenly struck their mafia, the boys would have already bared their souls to you. But timing was never kind. 

Bangtan were not known to be gullible. Not known to be easily fooled. So when Taehyung ran into their meeting room, red-faced and clenching his fists so hard they turned white, the Judas in their gang had come as a scathing surprise. 

One of their inner circle. Someone they had poured their trust and faith into, who had learned the system of their syndicate, had been a mole the entire time. Of course, they had disposed of him quickly, but the damage had already been done to their business. Allies and affiliates were backing away from collaboration in fear that Bangtan had been breached by law enforcement. Shipments were going missing more frequently, and even the lower hierarchies of their gang were beginning to become doubtful. To say the least, the seven of them were under debilitating stress and frustration. 

Nowadays, things were different than before. You were mostly kept in the dark about their business but you knew that something had happened. Something to make them so wound up, and it worried you to no end. It’s impossible not to notice how tense the house had become. 

Taehyung no longer stops by your room late at night, and in the early hours of the morning, you can still hear the frustrated clacking of his keyboard from next door. Not that you needed him to help you through your nightmares, but...you’ve gotten used to his comforting presence next to you.

Jungkook doesn’t seek you out for random conversations, and Namjoon just completely disappears in his office most days, not sparing you a single glance when he does manage to show his face outside. He locks the door now. You take it as a strong message that you are no longer welcome, and it upsets you, but you understand they are going through a rough patch. Your job is to be the least bothersome person you could possibly be. 

But Yoongi just flat out ignores you now, and you know Hoseok pretends to care about whatever topic of conversation you bring up. You can see right through his empty affirmations and nods. The kitchen is completely void of Jin, and there are no more clanging pots and pans when you try to cook for yourself. And Jimin is just like the rest of them: absent and indifferent to your presence. 

You know that it’s not you. The problem on their plate is bigger than you, but it still feels like you are a walking, breathing burden. You know that it’s not you, but your mind tells you they don’t want you here anymore. They’re sick of you. 

Two weeks pass by, and they’re still so cold even after all your attempts at trying to be calming comfort in their chaotic lives.  They still talk to you, but it’s strictly refrained to small talk that feels obligatory and like they have better things to do than spend time with you. They’re so busy that you often find yourself hanging out alone in the garden or making light conversation with the maids, or gang rookies that hang around the mansion. 

And it hurts to admit, but they don’t notice when you begin to regress to your old behavior. They don’t notice when you begin to flinch at anything that moves too quickly again, or the way you begin spacing out more than usual when you delve too far into your thoughts. They don’t notice when your nightmares start worsening again, too busy in their pooling stress to hear you toss and turn late at night and emerge from your bedroom with red, sunken eyes in the morning. You are relapsing into the learned behavior from your father, and you are terrified to admit it to yourself. But after a particularly bad day of anxiety and panic attacks, you put your fear aside to talk to the boys again about going back to therapy. It was virtually pointless, but you won’t let the seven of them take the brunt of your mental health when they had so much going on already. 

You timidly make your way down to the lower level of the mansion, slow footsteps leading you to their meeting room, where they’re all engrossed in their work and you can feel the tension choking the air. None of them notice your presence at first, until you cough to get their attention. They all snap their heads up and stare.

“Hey, could I um..talk to you guys for a couple minutes?”

 You feel like a specimen under a microscope. You used to be so comfortable talking to them. Now it just feels unnatural. 

“Can it wait, Y/N? We’ve just lost another shipment, and it’s a big one”, Yoongi grumbles from his seat, rifling through a tall stack of papers with a permanent crease in his brows. 

“Okay, then when can we-” 

“We’re just really busy right now.” 

Jungkook doesn’t mean for his voice to be so loud. He probably didn’t even pay attention to it, but it makes you flinch and stumble backwards. Makes you melt more into the girl you used to be. The one who stayed quiet out of survival, diminishing under the authority of a loud voice with cruel intentions. You know he doesn’t mean to do it. But you can’t help but see the face of your father again, and those long-healed scars seem to re-flicker with pain. 

Still, these were your boys. So you push on. 

A deep breath. “I was just thinking that maybe I could go back to-”

“Y/N, please. We don’t even have enough time to breathe. I’m sure whatever you need can be addressed later.”

The room falls into silence. Their message is loud and clear. And though it's painful to hear, it’s your own fault for exaggerating your place in their lives. He was right, it could be addressed later...you were just being a bother. 

“Right. Sorry.” Your halfhearted mutter falls deaf on their ears. They haven’t spared you a single ounce of attention, eyes still glued onto their work. You swallow down the heavy feeling in your throat and force the tears away. Why does your chest feel like someone’s twisted up your heart? 

You’re always so sensitive, Y/N. Such a crybaby. You can’t even take care of yourself. 

The tread upstairs back to your bedroom feels like an arduous journey as you try to hold yourself together and pretend like their actions hadn’t hurt you. But they weren’t responsible for your trauma. Your problems. You couldn’t blame them for not making it a priority, when their empire was threatened. 

They don’t hear you that night when you hold a goose-feather pillow to your chest and sob out the fear of being unwanted again. They don’t show up at your bedroom door when you wake yourself up from crying through a nightmare. 

You’ll figure it out yourself, with or without a therapist and with or without depending on them. From now on, you decide to make yourself invisible, focusing all your energy on dragging yourself out of the dark place you’re stuck in once again. So if you have to suffer in silence for their sake, so that they don’t have another insignificant loose end to worry about, you’ll do it. It’s the least you can do.

But you’d come to learn that those words are easier said than done. 

“Miss Y/N?” There is a light knock at your door, and the soft voice of the maid barely penetrates through the thick wood. You remember her name was Jun. The noise goes through in one ear and out of the other, and you can’t even find it in yourself to reply. 

“You haven’t left your room in two days. I was just...making sure you’re okay.”

Her statement shocks you out of your dazed stupor, and you hadn’t even realized the amount of time you spent staring into space, limp on your mattress.

 It was getting harder. To just function and drag yourself out of your bedroom so you didn’t, and two days unknowingly passed. But to you, they only felt like hours. Time passes by differently when you’re blindly navigating through trauma. 

It’s hard to sit up and slowly tread to the door, and your bones ache after not moving for so long. When you open it, guilt pools in your stomach to see her worried expression. Though you can guess why she looks so concerned. You’re a complete disaster. 

“Oh, honey…”, she sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “here. Let’s get you into some fresh clothes.” 

You mindlessly let her help you out of your days old T-shirt and sweats, mindlessly let her guide you into the shower and turn on the water, mindlessly let her rub shampoo into your scalp. You don’t even have the energy to open your mouth and tell her the water’s too cold. You’re still stuck inside your own thoughts, and you can only hear your father’s voice in your ear as he repeatedly affirms how worthless you are. Useless Y/N, that’s what he would say. Good-for-nothing Y/N. 

You’ve somehow gotten it into your head that the reason why they’ve been so absent with you is because they don’t know to tell you they want you to leave. After all, staying in the Bangtan mansion was only supposed to be a temporary solution. Maybe this is how they kick you out. 

When Jun wraps you in a fluffy towel and drags you out from underneath the showerhead, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks are sunken, and the dark circles under your eyes look almost painful. And somewhere along with that reflection is the image of your father. His angry face, glaring at you and screaming why you let yourself get like this. 

“Jun, have they…are they still busy?” Her eyes widen at the first words she’s heard from you, but there is sad sympathy on her face in a split second and you’ve already gotten your answer before she can say anything. 

“Yes, dear. The bosses are very occupied. But they can always make time for you, hm? They care about you a lot, you know.” Jun’s statement makes you frown, but you don’t retort. Maybe you used to think that they cared, but now it just felt like their kindness was out of obligation. They felt guilty for sending you back to your father. Or perhaps they used to care for you. But now...you weren’t so sure. 

When she manages to get you downstairs, in the kitchen, and set you in front of a bowl of soup, the boys are nowhere to be found. Jun tells you they’re out doing business and you tell yourself you’re not hurt that they hadn’t even noticed your absence for the past two days. 

They’re just roped up in other things, that’s all. 

After your shower and meal, Jun insisted that you take a stroll around the garden, and specifically instructed you to check out the new peony bush she had just planted. She mentioned it was per request of the seven bosses, but you had a hard time believing any of them would be concerned with something like that during this time. They hadn’t even made the time to talk to you. 

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to be outside and breathe in fresh air until you stepped out into the grassy space. Even though the solitude was getting to be too much, you were experiencing a newfound peace that you wanted to keep for as long as possible. Jun was right, and the peony bush was absolutely gorgeous. You actually feel like an alive and functioning human being. It was surprising that you were so dependent on the boys that without them, falling apart was inevitable. But now you were coherent and not so drowned in your toxic mentality (you’ll have to thank Jun profusely later), and you feel determined to talk to them again.  About going back to therapy, no matter how useless it felt back then, and try to get on your own two feet. Now that you had seen and felt how serious it was, you wouldn’t be so complicit if they tried to silence you. 

From over the tall hedges, the sounds of wheels rolling on gravel could be heard before the tense slams of car doors. The sound of Jungkook and Namjoon’s low muttering falls on your ears and though it sparks excitement inside you, you’re also fearful of what they might say. You don’t think you can handle another swift rejection like last time. Their indecipherable conversation ceases when you hear the entrance doors close, and seal them inside while you are still out here in your own world. 

The white peony that’s cupped in your hand feels so fragile and soft that you don’t want to touch it anymore. It makes you think of them. Of how delicate it feels recently and how you’re so deathly afraid of them changing their minds one day and kicking you out with nowhere to go. Maybe you’ll just wander around again. There’s a distant cousin in the states also, but you’d have to figure out how to get out of the country without alerting your father. You shake yourself out of your intrusive thoughts. 

No way your boys would do that to you.

Right?

The way back from the garden to the house is brief, but your anxiety about talking to them lengthens the trips and the feet feel like miles. You are wrapped up in your thoughts the entire way, and when you make your way into the house, you almost don’t notice the angry voices that are bouncing off the walls. It sounds like Taehyung is yelling, and the sound curdles your stomach. You hate it when people yell. It just reminds you of your father. 

You follow the commotion to the kitchen, extra cautious and apprehensive. The sheer volume of their reprimanding seems to shake the house and your hands begin to quiver as you get closer. Peeking out from behind a wall, their backs are to you but you can see the face of a sheepish boy who hangs his head, gaze glued to the floor as the seven men continue to berate him. You recognize him as one of the newer members that was initiated a couple weeks ago; you’ve talked to him a couple times and he was never anything but courteous. He looks like he’s about to cry and it makes your heart ache.

Your attention pans back to the seven out of shock. The only time you’ve seen them this angry was at the meeting with your father, so you can only imagine what that young boy has done to land himself in this position. 

“I told you a fucking million times too many, Lee. I told you to check in with the shipments as soon as they arrived in Myeongdong. So imagine my fucking surprise when I get a call notifying me that they’re all missing. Stolen.” Namjoon’s voice cuts straight through the room. His fists are clenched and even from the back, you can tell the expression on his face is one of scalding fury. 

A shipment? They’re this infuriated over a shipment?

“I-I’m sorry, Boss. Please, I...please forgive me. I know it’s no excuse but I’m new here, a-and I swear this will not happen again.” He shrinks into himself and you quietly whimper in sympathy. 

Yoongi humorlessly chuckles. “You swear? The only valuable thing you have to swear on is your life. And even that’s not worth much.” 

It’s moments like these that you forget how cruel and ruthless they can be. They’ve always been so soft and gentle with you before, you forget they are mafia bosses overseeing an entire empire. That they’ve gotten here for a reason. You forget that people fear them. But you remember now. 

Lee stays silent and still refuses to look up, but you can see the way his knees shake uncontrollably. He is one person standing up against 7 huffing bulls, so angry they can’t see straight so if you - tiny and meek you - has to be the one to come to his defense, so be it. 

Because you’ve been that person going head to head with a bull. You see yourself, terrified and regretful, in Lee. And you’ll be damned if you have to watch and not do anything about it. Your heart beats thunderously in your chest but you push past the fear. 

Their heads all snap up in surprise when you march into the kitchen and stand in between them and the boy, who looks even more painfully young up close and sporting that deer-in-the-headlights expression. You lock gazes with each of them, swallowing your nerves before speaking. 

“Is it really that big of a deal to yell at him like this? Look at him”, you gesture to the cowering person behind you, “don’t you think he’s had enough?” Your voice is still soft, and such a contrast to their angry ones. But it seems like your gentle tone just makes them even angrier, and snaps them out of their initial shock.  

“A big deal? He cost us thousands in shipments! I’d say that’s a pretty big fucking deal to me, Y/N.” Jungkook bursts out, exasperatedly running his hands through his hair and looking at you with an angry frown. You flinch at his volume. The stress on their shoulders is more apparent than ever.  

“Why are you defending him, Y/N? You don’t even know who he is”, Jimin spits, growing even more irritated. There’s a hint of jealousy in his words and it’s so subtle that you don’t even notice it. 

“I know that he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like this for a little mistake. One that I’m sure he is regretful of making.” It suddenly feels daunting when you realize that you’re going up against all of them, and now, they’re all staring at you with the same anger that was meant for the one that messed up their shipments. 

“And what if that mistake is a sign that he’s traitorous? Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised. Seems like that’s a trend going around here.” From behind you, Lee is quick to open his mouth and begin to protest, but you interrupt and speak strongly. It seems this disciplining session has morphed into a full blown argument between you and them. 

“It was one person. I get that it’s shitty, and I’m sorry it happened. I understand that you have to be on watch now and extra cautious. I do.” You sigh, a pleading look in your eyes but they remain stone cold.

“But one person did that. Are you going to treat everyone like they betrayed you? Are you going to treat me like I betrayed you?”

“I don’t know Y/N, you were so quick to defend him. Maybe you did. I wouldn't put it past you.” 

Taehyung’s words run through you like a hot knife to butter. You almost stagger back at the shock. You’re no stranger to hurtful words but when they are coming out of his mouth, it hurts tenfold. How could they think you would betray them? 

They promised to trust you, didn’t they? They promise they’d believe you after they failed to the first time. Now it just feels like you’re that spoiled little rich girl again in their eyes, standing in front of them and pleading your innocence. 

“W-what? No, I-”

“You know nothing about our world, Y/N. You can’t possibly understand.” Jin’s silver voice is colder than you’re ever heard it. 

“I know that, but could you just please-”

“As a matter of fact, this is a mafia business matter”, Yoongi shoots, poisoned words designed to hurt. 

“I’m not sure why you’re here at all, Y/N. Just leave.” 

Gone is the strong persona that you had put up to protect this young boy. Gone is the confident woman who thought she had the will to stand up for herself, much less someone else. You can only keep your eyes glued to Yoongi, and hope that he doesn’t see your heart crumbling right in front of him. How had he aimed mindlessly at your insecurities, and shot a bullseye into the biggest one?

Maybe you did, Y/N. I wouldn’t put it past you.

Blame it on the blurriness through your tears or the sheer shock running through your veins, but you can’t find one smidgen of regret or guilt in his expression. On any of their faces. Just anger and annoyance, aimed directly at you. And suddenly the spacious mansion feels all too suffocating. 

You know nothing about our world Y/N.

The words you plan to say die on the tip of your tongue, as quickly as they came. There is nothing that comes out and in the aching silence of it all, the way you maintain eye contact with each of them speaks volumes. Yet they are blind to the way you are ripping at the seams, and oblivious to the turmoil they are putting you through. The coldness of their gaze and words shoot through your core, like a blade of ice piercing through your heart. 

I’m not sure why you’re here at all. 

Just leave. 

In short, right at this moment, they look like strangers. Strangers who know what scares you, what foods you don’t like, your favorite flowers, your favorite color. Strangers who have seen your heart, welcomed it, and who were now crushing it in front of you. 

What a fool you were to think that they could reciprocate your feelings. 

What a fool you were to think that they wanted you as much as you wanted them. 

Your pained chuckle is a discordant sound in the tense quiet. Their stares burn on your skin and though you are trying so hard to now show how utterly broken you feel, you wonder if they even notice. when you look back into the eyes of the boy directly in front of you, he is still so angry and red you find it hard to believe anything but your alleged cold, hard truth:

The seven boys you have fallen in love with utterly despise you. Perhaps they always have. 

“Yeah”, you whisper brokenly. “Maybe I will.” 

taglist: @pinkyhim​, @deolly​, @loveyoongles​, @drunkzseok​, @hope122598​, @uwunamjoon​, @nomimits7​, @bubblebunnylia​, @aquaalanah​, @juliie-ocha, @daydreambrliever​, @btsbabby​, @blank-et-noir, @myheartstaysinkorea, @rosiethefairy​, @tiredjedi, @lovemyself-persona​, @jeoncookie-bts​, @annoyingpessimist​, @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh, @btstxtgenre​, @taesugaar​, @hxsxxk-180294​, @bubbletae7​, @uglyratlmao​, @hopetookmysoul​, @supertweetycherry​, @missseoulite​, @barbikatherine​, @jamesfrickingbuchananbarnes​, @sunsetsnsirens-blog​, @vanilla-smash​, @lmaosani​, @onionhaseyeo​, @i-dumb-bitch​, @euphxriajoon​, @justpeachyjoon​, @dabbingangels​, @h5naaa​, @parkmaeri, @softescapism​, @bena-baby​, @myjiminmychimchim , @moments-of-melancholy​, @krystle1990​, @chatsgotmytongue​, @vi-hoshi​, @unlikelylittlemiss​, @rosey-roseau, @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​, @kookiebbyxx​,

#bts guild #bts mafia au #bts gang au #bts series #poly bts x reader #bts polyamory #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #ot7 #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #rm x reader #bts reader insert #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook

[yanderecandystore]

aye, Idk if this went thou cuz it Tumblr so: I know you say to hold request like this but I wanted to ask for when you started. Maybe a yandere Imposter with a s/o who is a medic for the ship. (It a weird hc that everyone has a job on the ship) So it time for check up other med stuff. The imposter knows that the check up/computer will out them for being an imposter but it a chance to finally be alone with its 's/o'

Oh boo, what I meant about holding asks was that I was holding an anon's ask in the ask box about Yandere Among Us so that I could remember myself to write about it.

You see, a lot of people asked for it so I decided to leave this one ask about it so I could answer it later when I had the proper chapter finished.

It's not that you guys in particular need to hold your asks about Among Us, you can send them! What I tried to do was try to send a message towards the people that wanted to see more of it, that I would be doing more about it really soon.

Also, this is a gorgeous ask! I absolutely love this headcanon. I love the idea of everyone having a particular role, but also being able to do multiple tasks as the whole spaceship is destroyed-

In my Among Us fanfiction, the role of medic is played by the crewmate White, but of course the darling can be a medic in this headcanon!

Also I'll leave the color of the imposter random and out for your imagination in this headcanon, because why not?

TW/Tags: y'all mind if I went a little more… risky? 👀 Cause I think the imposter would be happy to get some "special examination" by their darling- (slight nsfw ish? At the end??) // not accurate to the game but whatevs // yes, I'm tired and therefore mumbling nonsense! // some hard simping coming from the imposter //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Med-bae 👀 [Yandere!Among Us x Medic!Reader - Headcanon]:

So. This was a terrible idea. You know, when you said "follow me, I'll show you something cool!" they were expecting something more, well, fun?

This is not only not fun, but can also compromise their whole plan. You brought them to medbay to show them not only your favorite tech but to also convince them to let you check them out.

They were the only ones that haven't done any check ups and you needed to collect data from everyone and send it to the facility, ya know, to let them know that you're all safe in this unsafe spaceship.

"- Come on, we need to tell your family that you're healthy!"

"- I could just call them ya know?!" You two scream at each other as they're trying to hold themselves in the wall while you try to pull them inside your workplace.

Well, it could be worse, now that they think about it. There is no one here so…

"- Take off your suit and seat over there." You tell them while pointing at the examination table - "- I'll go pick some equipment, don't worry okay? It's just another checkup."

You tried to make them feel more relaxed by saying that, but they couldn't help but fear their inevitable demise. While you're gone they at least have enough time to change themselves to look more human.

Or at least to come up with something if you ever find out they aren't really the person you thought they were. Oh well, at least they can indulge themselves in the heavy amount of scent lingering around this room, it seems you have spent a lot of time here. In some weird way, this place does fit you a lot, maybe is their mind being easily infatuated by you, but the smallest of decorations or clues of you being here, like: a coat you forgot to pick up, some paperwork covered in stickers, a photo of you and what they presume to be your family.

They wonder if you miss the Earth as much as your entire crew. I mean, that would be unfortunate for them, how would they be able to accompany you back to your home? Wouldn't you prefer to stay here with them? Looking at the stars, with a long life supply of resources for a small family. It doesn't sound so bad right?

Yeah, of course it doesn't sound so bad, the only problem is that there are way, way too many people in this place! All of your crewmates take way too much of your attention and time, that is so unfair-

"- I'm back! Sorry for keeping you waiting." You said while entering the medbay in a hurry. Oh look, their anxiety has also returned! Oh goodie.

"- So, I'll do a couple physical checks and just make a couple of questions, and then I'll let you free okay?" You joke about it, no one really likes to do this, you know that, but come on! It's so simple and easy, and it's just to make sure everyone is doing fine.

"- How has it been this couple of days?" You ask coming towards them.

"- F-Fine I guess. Nothing really special, just the usual." The closer you get the hardest it is to control their heart. This is ridiculous, why does their body act like this at such a crucial moment? And why do I need to be so close in the first place!?!

You make their brains turn into mush.

"- I know this is going to sound cliche, but have you been eating healthy lately?" Oh my, their skin feels hot, maybe you should pick a thermometer! Hopefully they don't have a fever.

"- Yes, I think so." Well, would you consider eating your friends healthy? Probably not. They probably shouldn't say that out loud.

The checkup continues as "normally" as every checkup. Asking if they felt anything, if they have been staying active and eating the healthy options on board, and if they were having a generally pleasant week aboard.

Of course you probably won't notice how their face flush every time you touch or simply crush your fingers on their body, like I said, this is probably harder than any emergency meeting. Trying to keep themselves from creeping you out and from snatching you right there and then. Too close for your own safety yet too distant for their comfort.

It doesn't help that you question all the little oddities happening to their body. Why are they so hot? Why are they sweating so much? Why are they shaking so much? Are they feeling sick? Are they hurt?

No, no, no, no and no, dearest! All of these things are normal for them. That's their normal body temperature.

Oh yeah, and the shaking and sweating is just nervousness. This moment is so perfect, dearest.

Is absolutely perfect, no one can interfere. No one can stop them from being the center of your attention. No one can enter this room for now.

Of course, after so much "teasing" they couldn't control the soft purring emerging from their throats. I mean, honestly you weren't doing much? You're just so close and touchy that it was starting to provoke a new type of hunger inside them.

"- Did you… Did you just... Purr…??" You stepped back, they were acting quite strange throughout the entire checkup, but you thought they were simply shy about this.

' What the hell was going on? Why did they look like that? Why was their expression suddenly so malicious?' You thought.

Well dearest-

What would happen if… Well, the doors suddenly decided to not open? If these sound proof walls suddenly became useful for once?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

I don't why I had such a hard time writing this, I think I might have adhd-

Or maybe I just really like procrastinating, idk lol

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere among us x reader #yandere among us #yandere among us headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #aaaaah #yander alien #? #does it count?

[worldsover]

No More Drowning ft. Olivia Hye

length ✦ 7138

genres ✧ drunk hookup; outercourse; roommate!Olivia

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Perspiration deluges your white Taekwondo uniform. You make it fit loose so that it doesn’t stick to your skin. A refreshing breeze now annoys you as it whistles through your damn window that never sealed completely shut. At least you didn't need to turn on a fan today.

“Hey Captain,” you greet the commander of none. Hyejoo lies on a small blue couch, the only pristine spot in the living room. Her outfit suggests that there would be the usual cool air expected of the season but the fall is humid and stuck in the climate of a couple months past. It’s incredible that there is not a bead of sweat formed on her face. You study her and somehow she’s handsome in your eyes which is probably not a word others would use to describe the stunning woman reclining with her feet up.

“Wassup,” she says.

“You gonna-”

“Clean up?  Yeah, yeah, lemme finish this round.”

Her face is welded to her screen though her eyes dart around maybe holding a hint of remorse at the clothes that litter the cramped living space and the dishes in the sink.

“I’m not an impostor! Ahhh!” Hyejoo shouts into the screen. Certainly none of her actions follow through on that guilt.

“How'd this even happen? You got pyjamas on the floor, shirts on the chairs. You a camgirl or something?"

"I'm a camgirl? I can see your tits dude.” Cover your pectoral cleavage in faux shame. ”Yo, I swear I just saw green-"

"And all these energy drinks? Come on Hyejoo, no way your heart lasts more than a year.”

“Wow, meanie.”

You look at your watch. “It’s like 9:40.”

“Shit, right, the marketing test.” Hyejoo’s fingers show no pretense that she’ll stop playing. She definitely didn't see your disapproving face. “Oh relax, I still got time,” she says anyway.

Finally, she looks up at you and her brows crease. “What?” you ask.

"You look good today."

Your heart floats just a little. You always appreciate the little compliments she gives. They were just ones that friends, good friends, would say but you’ll take anything to keep you going. Well, it’s enough to get you to clean up for her again.

“It’s gonna be a long shower by the way.” She giggles and you step over empty cans and bottles when you walk to the bathroom.

“No prob, I’m heading out soon,” Hyejoo says.

“Sure you are.”

Her exaggerated yawn seems not so exaggerated by how she stretches her entire being before putting her phone away.

“Oh, soon means now. How long’s it going to take?” you say.

She shrugs her shoulders. “One, two? I dunno.”

In a rush to get all her supplies in her bag, a series of metallic clangs sound out when finished beverages fall over like dominoes.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry about that, I really am. I can buy you lunch if you want something?” Hyejoo starts picking up a few of them to set aside in the corner and you help her.

“Nah, I’ll still be in the shower by then.”

Hyejoo scoffs. “If I'm addicted to caffeine, you're addicted to water. A sandwich sound good?”

“Yeah sure. I got a lot on my mind, Captain.”

“That include me?” A dismissive puff of air exits your lips. No, no way. She walks up to smell your uniform. Your acute awareness of her distance or lack thereof causes you to ignore her pupils' subtle drift downwards.

“You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

"Get to your shower stinky."

You wave Hyejoo off then enter the bathroom. The scurry of little steps and a slam from the front door echo the whole apartment. Never any privacy in here. These sounds give way to the jet engine of your shower with its pressure betraying the bargain rate of your rent. Soap washes away your muscles' ache and the sun’s beating on your skin. It's been unusually warm since the leaves turned brown. Water builds up in the tub.

Something's not adding up. There it is again. That plunging in your heart. Sparring always helps a bit after your early morning manual labor carrying bags of sand. However, it does not stop the resurfacing of your every mistake as there's nothing but your mind in the shower. You don't have a plan and your future is void because money and work hours kill you as much as school. You're not even getting all the wages you earn and there's nothing you can do about it. Past choices bubble up in that unkind way. The cup fills and clear blue liquid engulfs you.

Lift yourself out the tub to catch a breath that you don't deserve. Deliberate respirations do nothing to slow down your heart rate. The only thing that can is a captain. You could wander the ocean on a raft with her alone but you have no idea if she felt even close to the same. Maybe she's just the most important friend you've ever had. Light from the small window hits the tiled floor. Unplug the drain. Right, you left your clothes in your room so wrap yourself with a green towel you find hanging from the doorknob.

Shit! There's not a mouse in sight but you shriek like there is one when Hyejoo materializes in the confined kitchen. Hyejoo expresses no surprise herself as she sits cross legged on the miniature wooden dining table playing yet another mobile game. Laundry baskets and garbage bags hold all the previous mess. Your surprise at her appearance transforms into surprise for her proactiveness. You want to give her thanks but no words escape your lips.

"You gonna put on some clothes? Perv. That’s my towel too."

Your hands push off invisible blame. The hands of the wall clock reads five minutes before noon. "Woah, woah, wait a sec. What happened to the midterm?"

"Walked out in the middle of it. Couldn’t deal. Dropped."

"Wait, what about the refund?"

"Sunk cost dude.” Hyejoo sniffs a wide white shirt hanging from a chair next to her. “This yours or mine? Ehh, it's clean either way."

You catch the shirt and smell it. A little vanilla. It's hers. “Thanks Captain.”

“Even sniffing it? Really a perv.” You almost forget a single piece of fabric separates full exposure of your genitals but the realization makes you blush anyway.

“Nah, you smelled it first and. Whoever smelt it, dealt it.”

“That’s not what that saying means.” Hyejoo gets up from her awkward seat.

Incredible how many new ways she can throw you off like when she bumps into you with her eyes are still on her phone. Hyejoo's clumsiness will be your death as the towel slips down and hangs solely from your half erect dick. Cool, you're just a clothing rack now. She turns you around with one hand and snatches the large shirt with the other. Your bare moon is in full view.

"You gonna put this on or just stand there?" she says with no qualms about the absurd sight of your newly cleansed rear. You scramble to wrap the towel tightly around you to tame your erection but there's no way she hasn't noticed by now.

"Y- yep, I, I will do that, for sure." Turn back around and take the shirt to put it on carefully. It’d be oversized for her but it fits you snug. Your ears must have joined your cheek’s redness because your nipples poke through the thin white fabric.

Hyejoo takes a single glance away from her screen at your makeshift towel skirt and laughs. "Actually, you look cute like that. Just keep the towel on, it's less to clean."

Wide-eyed, you say, "What if ahjumma barges in?"

"What if? Whatever, no fun." She sticks her tongue out then gets comfortable on the couch while her diligent and nimble fingers peck at the screen.

Return to the restroom and deal with your erection before it becomes a problem. You’ve seen hints of her comely body before and it helps you undress her layered attire in your imagination. Instead of the black button-up long sleeve and track pants she wore just moments ago, you picture a crop top, her hair tied up and white panties, and it's that latter image that affixes to your mind. On a particularly balmy day, Hyejoo wore only her underwear because she had nothing else to do but game and it hasn't stopped plaguing your fantasies ever since. Your hands are Hyejoo’s, soft and loving just for a moment.

"You taking another shower in there or what?" Hyejoo shouts, “I’d definitely hear from here!”

Reality smacks you in the face. She had no fear of you, no worry that you’d take advantage of her. Were you even a man? Stop your jerking and get up. 

Open the bathroom door absentmindedly and thump. It smacks her head. You don’t even think about why she was standing right next to the door, instead sweeping aside her hair from her face. Red doesn’t come from where you hit her.

Simultaneously, you and Hyejoo say, “You okay?”

“Um, I’m, look-”

Her blush grows but she interrupts your blabbering, “I didn’t hear you respond and thought you, uh, died in there or something.”

Nearly reached la petite mort if that counted but instead you say, “No, I just. Had a lot to consider.”

“Sure.” You’ve never seen her this flustered since it’s enough for her to scurry back to her room. Hopefully things wouldn’t be too awkward.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“I fucking hate you!” Hyejoo yells.

“Oh yeah? Same!” you retort, probably too loud.

Her tone goes down. “Were those the lines?”

“Ehh, as long as we get the gist of the argument down.”

Hyejoo and you stand on the stairway up to your rooftop apartment in your rehearsed spots. She looks a little confused on how to start what she wants to start but you poke at her when you see the landlady walking towards the stairs.

“Chill out!” she yelps.

“Chill out, you’re telling me to chill out?"

"Seriously, oppa," that's about as strained as a human can say a word, "You’re such a slob!”

“Shut up, look at me straight in the eyes and tell me you’re not just as bad,” you say, trying not to laugh but Hyejoo’s punch knocks the wind out of you. Your pain is only half acting. Her sympathetic look does nothing to soothe you.

"Ya!" The elderly woman interrupts and forces you two apart. “That’s enough! I get you’re cousins but even I don’t fight this badly with my family.”

Hyejoo whips her pupils towards you as though to ask the same question you had, if you sold the illusion too hard.

“I get that living with your kin is tough but at the very least, no murders on my property. Not until one of you graduates.” The old lady squints and turns to each of you saying, “Promise me. No hitting. Not in my sight.”

You nod then Hyejoo’s sigh becomes an assenting nod when the landlady smacks her wrist nearly black and blue. Satisfied at her hard work reconciling family matters, she walks back down her stairs to do her usual wandering around the neighborhood. Hyejoo and you take a second to stretch and relax.

“Ha. Do as I say, not as I do,” Hyejoo says as you both sit on the concrete steps.

You caress your tender rib. “Or don't do at all. Ow. You wanna be a Youtuber? They do boxing and gaming, and you'd kill doing both." Hyejoo's laugh is rich and all that it takes for you to forgive her. You exhale. "Hopefully that gets her off our backs for a while.”

“How do you even manage Taekwondo? You’re so fragile and-" Her sentence is interrupted when she looks at your built arms.

"No way they hit as hard as you, Captain." You miss her carnal look when you close your eyes and think about the nickname that you aimlessly threw out one day.

She stands up. Your eyes violently spread open at her “Kya!” Hyejoo’s fighting stance and shouts masquerading kihaps are totally off. As much as Hyejoo could kill you, a Taekwondo fighter since your childhood, she could also be incredibly cute too.

You tsk. "All that power and no technique."

Hyejoo sits back down none the more ashamed and scratches her head. "You think it would’ve been easier if we came clean?”

“Ahjumma could never allow two strangers to live co-ed. No way. I’m still surprised you came up with that so quickly.”

“It just came out so naturally, oppa!” she says in a deriding high pitch. “Yeah right I ever call you that again.”

Ring ring. You answer the call and Hyejoo's quizzical stare turns concerned at your breathlessness from the words that drill into your ear. They slam, they crash and their volume could break your eardrums even though they’re said as calmly as possible. The hole in your raft grows bigger and leaks more so even when you reach the abandoned shore, you're marooned.

"Fuck, fuck, god."

Sprint for the next bus. Pay no heed to the girl chasing you. Dammit, this can't be happening. Every problem gets fucking magnified because you can't have anything good and if you did, never could it last for more than a goddamn millisecond. You embark on the most anxious ride of your life even though you already know exactly what's going to happen. Transfer buses. The skyscrapers hover over you and gloat about how you’ll never enter their doors. Asphalt and glass swelter you when they reflect radiation down the sky. Your skin hurts. You get off the bus and arrive at the headquarters of the construction company. At the front of the building stands your boss.

Slap. "Did you not get the message? Were you under a tunnel?"

You get on your knees and bow. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"No one else is going to hire a goddamn delinquent like you."

"Please. I thought you understood." You nearly prostrate yourself

"I have no idea what you're talking about. There's a lot of assault on your record."

You stop yourself from blurting out that you fucking know. Defending yourself from bullies is assault? He already knew this was bullshit since that's why he hired you in the first place but now he's backtracking like a rat. 

"I'll do anything to work here." He shakes his head while you hold back a tear. "Please. Just. Just tell me why?"

"You got greedy."

"Greedy?" You raise your head and then your tone. "Getting paid for the work that I do is greed?"

"You're on your knees and wanna talk back? Get out."

Bang. A closing door. Your head slumps back down and not a single person on the bus would misunderstand your emotions. You take the longest way home, unsure if you even deserve to go back. Any time, you could give up.  Ponder your choices. Never going to get a job again. Never going to school. Never will have a chance to learn or a chance to improve. Never going to have money and never will have a place to live. Never going to see Hyejoo again. You have to give up.

One missed phone call from your polar opposite. She can do so much better. The longest way home turns longer when it goes straight to the sea as you decide to live life as a fisherman with your uncles. You were always invited. You wasted your time in the city. There's no stress here.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

There's no happiness either. Weeks passed even though only days passed. That’s life on the water. Everything spins. Fortunately, you manage to keep your stomach in not wanting to inconvenience the bus driver, the only other person in the vehicle. 

You look at your watch as you near Hyejoo's home. She must be asleep by now but you carry each foot heavily when you walk up the steps anyway. Apologies, excuses and petitions that you wrote in your head blank away when you open the door when you see a woman asleep on the couch with earbuds on. Her unconscious head bounces to a slow rhythm. Your lungs fail your mouth's movements to form words because of all that creamy skin covered only by a green towel that creates an outline of her captivating curves. Hyejoo's legs beg to be licked and her collarbones direct your gaze to the bulging flesh poking from the top of the towel with her nipples an inch from your sight. Any other day and you’d ravage her on the spot. Stupid brain tells you to leave and stupid you follows.

You're outside when you hear Hyejoo say, "Hey! Motherfucker, where'd you go you son of a bitch?"

She steps out with no regard to her state of dress and you spin around watching for any witness. You notice her hold back when she hits you but her consecutive punches send a message anyway as each strike punctuates her words, "What, makes you think, you can worry me, like that?"

"Woah, you should. You should get back inside your house," your voice breaks and you back away.

"Hold on now, you're really about to go? Like this?" Hyejoo says.

"You. You look busy. I have to go."

"I'm sorry, I was just messing around with you. Come on, you're really telling me-" She notices your tumultuous expression and sighs. “Fuck it, we'll worry about it tomorrow. First of all, come in. With me. Into our home.”

You follow her into her apartment. She quickly returns from her room in a simple white tee and red gym shorts revealing the supple shape of her ass.

“I'm not gonna ask, okay? Tell you what. When you have a problem, the only answer is late night soju, beer and?” she says.

“Chicken, it’s gotta be. Come on, I see the bones right there.” You point to the countertop dishes. “I’m surprised this place isn’t messier."

"I can handle myself, thank you very much. And that. That was leftover, dry, sober chicken. We're going to munch down on that good crispy skin and we're doing it goddamn wasted." You can't help but match her smile, more radiant and genuine than yours.

Hyejoo pulls out all the alcohol from the small fridge while you call for delivery before both of you step outside the home. It’s night but the heat would make you believe the moon disguises the sun with how it shines on the green roof. What a weird fall. Only the trees remind you of the season. A short plastic table as the only furniture easily moved outside means that you’d have to sit close together on the floor, not that you minded.

Her silence confuses you but she becomes her usual self after you both down glasses of mixed beer and soju and especially after she sees the delivery man bringing an absurd amount of plastic bags for two people.

“Let’s. Go!” she shouts sloppily.

The poor worker looks at you so you give him a knowing nod and point to the beer and soju cans strewn about. His thumbs up as he walks away beguiles you. You look at Hyejoo and realize all the cleavage she’s showing with the shirt she chose. It's as revealing as the towel she wore earlier. Did she not put on a bra? Stand up quickly and search for the guy but his motorcycle revs and he’s already out of sight. That fucker probably saw something he shouldn’t have. You’re never gonna order from that chicken spot again. You bite angrily into the spicy crispy wing. Alright, maybe you just won’t order at this hour or whenever that dude works. Hyejoo chows down with drumsticks on each hand and it’s clear she’s responsible for a majority of the finished carcasses. The stains on her shirt would not make her look any less goddamn cute.

“Cheers!” Glasses clink. How many drinks, how many, burp, were you down? She burps too, you burp together. It’s funny. There was a lot of conversation but it slips you.

"I said I wouldn't talk about it, but Doyun and Michael, worried sick. They came here, everything.” Hyejoo garbles her words.

"Just ‘cause I don't show up to the club for a few days?"

"I'm telling you, a lot of people care. For you. I know I do."

It’s been a while since you started your little escape. All the food’s gone. You’re more sober now. You swear. The nighttime is so comfortable that Hyejoo brings out her blanket to lay on, along with a spoon and a watermelon.

"You're gonna have to wash this later," you say.

“Alright fine. Don't. Don’t rest yourself besides a pretty lady.“ Stab. ”On a perfect starry night.” Stab. “And don’t have some of this delicious watermelon."

One more stab at the watermelon she splits it open. Her devilish look suggests she might do the same to your rib cage if you don’t acquiesce. Lie down next to Hyejoo on the flimsy layer of cloth. You share pieces of the fruit and notice water spilling down her mouth. Definitely sober by now. She’s maybe half a meter away.

"Starry's a strong word to use.”  You twirl your finger at the scarce lights in the black backdrop. “Lady too with the way you eat-" She playfully covers your mouth and flicks your forehead.

You don't know when your laughter and banter slow down, or when you start inching closer to her. It doesn't matter.

“Fishing is boring. They make it look all dramatic on shows and you’re just waiting. The night sky’s much clearer though.”

“You gotta. When you do something like that, gotta lemme join in at least.”

“You’re really fine on going on a trip with a man, alone, faraway on the sea?”

“If it’s you.”

“I don’t count, not much of a man at all. I just run away from shit and-”

"Shhh,” she shushes you loudly. “You can count on me.” Hyejoo says and you don’t let her voice project into empty space.

“I will.” It sounds a little forced from you.

“You will,“ she sounds so sure of herself, ”you’ll be okay.”

Your head lays in her neck. A finger in a cup, breaking surface tension so a drop escapes past the rim. You have no outdated sentiments on displaying emotion but you held back often pretending your tenacity was as strong as your body. Not this time. Your cup overflows.

Only moonlight refracts on your tears and Hyejoo wipes them away. You have no idea what she’s thinking as she gazes into the few stars visible in the city. Turn on your side and Hyejoo does likewise to face you then puts a couple of fingers in your hair. Cup her face in return and it wears many emotions, such as impishness, meekness at a few times, and an often impenetrable focus, but above all it’s the standard for beauty in how it assumes no blemish. Her triangle mouth is distinct, welcoming, but you hesitate. Her minute sugary fragrance overwhelms the variety of smells in the air. Crickets and distant occasional traffic. Hyejoo’s head tilts forward then places her lips light on yours and your world is silent. Your heart’s pulse slows so it doesn't interrupt.

“Captain,” you exhale out when she finally retreats her mouth. The name sounds ridiculous in this setting. “Ma’am?”

“Whatever sounds right to you,” she yields, though the subdued caresses on the definition of your arms, and less subtle grabs on your black shirt, convey that she’s in charge even if it’s a gentle direction. "Just Hyejoo is fine."

It's like she’s teaching you how to spar for the first time though neither of you are virgins. Hyejoo gives another kiss then turns you recumbent. You could not and would not stop her now especially when she straddles your denim covered thighs. Take off your shirt and her hands rush to aid you.

“But I’d prefer we don’t think at all.” Is she drooling?

“That’s what got me into trouble. Thoughtlessness.” Your eyes somehow wander away from the woman and her sumptuous yet clothed ass grinding on you.

“What do you think of me?

“Huh?” you say and your eyes snap back to her.

The underside of her shorts warm your groin. “I said, what do you think of me?”

“I think, ugh,” her weight striking a sensitivity in your pants makes you moan, “I think, you’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

“What a player. Well, that’s all you need to think.” Hyejoo rocks back and forth. “Fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lay your hands on her hips and Hyejoo takes your right one, lifting herself just enough to let your dick breathe.

“Why do you need that hand?” you say.

“Feel this.” She takes your hand to knead the thin cloth under her mound and you feel just the tiniest hint of moisture build on your palm.

Pull away to take a base whiff of your slippery fingers. It’ll be a new addiction. The smell of alcohol and the most delicious fried chicken in the world couldn’t compare.

"It's been like this around you since the day we met." Hyejoo bends down and etches every word of the confession into your eardrums, her tone even raspier. "This is all for you."

“Really?” You give her a peck and it turns frisky when tongues join the mix and teeth nibble at lips. 

“Mhm.” Her lips vibrate on yours. Hyejoo gropes your crotch over your jeans. “I know it's going to be perfect.” She unzips and pulls down your pants to your knees. You take them off your legs completely and she searches for your wallet.

"I just lost my job and you're gonna rob me?" She breaks her serious character with a snicker. You sniffle and your mood lightens, “And how’d you know I had a condom in there?”

“Just had a feeling.” She winks.

Not an implausible cold reading but you can't count out the possibility of her snooping through your personal effects. You don't mind her proclivities this time. Hyejoo traces your every muscle’s curve with her index and middle finger and focuses especially around your pecs.

“I have to concede. I love these muscles of yours. Ever since that first day I met you at the open house. Maybe I’m just a simple woman.”

“Simplicity is sophistication.” Her fingers draw a line down your torso.

"Indeed. But I'm most interested in this hunk of meat right," she frees your cock from its confines, "Here." Hyejoo licks her lips.

“How is it?”

You’re already hard but Hyejoo's hands deftly work your shaft stiffer. “It’s so thick and this vein right here. It’ll hit just right.”

"Fuck, Hyejoo," you utter when she spits a little on your cock before she unrolls the condom on your erection. Hyejoo slips aside her shorts.

You don't get a view of her pussy with how she sprawls herself on top of you, but the slickness of her lips and the warmth that she emanates from between her legs immerses your senses enough. The missionary with her on top lets her control by the way she guides your cock and presses down on you.

“Oh god, I was right, fuuck,” Hyejoo proclaims when she sinks herself carefully into you and, on the next bounce, smacks her butt right into your waist. Her snugness clenches and quakes on your cock. Willowy arms share a similar hold of your body when she embraces you. You need her as badly as she needs you. You take heavy breaths, especially through your nose. Even her sweat is so alluring. The velvet texture that surrounds you keeps taut on your dick no matter how forcefully she rides herself on top of you. Squelches and quiet moans to a higher power pepper the warm night air.

Hyejoo removes her shirt and slings it away before bowing back down to lick your ears "God, your tits are perfect," you say even though your hands squeeze her buttcheeks in time to her thrusts. Her perky breasts recoil back and forth as they rub your chest while hard nipples juxtapose their softness.

No chance someone would come up to this little rooftop at this hour or have a good view though your cheeks flush at the thought. What if you had extra chicken coming? Or what if the landlady decided to check in on you two late at night? What if-

Hyejoo nudges her forehead against yours. She knows your habits. Your worried face is too familiar for her not to react so she nuzzles your neck and surrounds you with kisses.

Her husky voice vibrates your whole face. "Just focus on me." She makes out with you before her tongue dips into every crevice of your face the same way your cock does in her pink pussy.

Your dick slips out for a second and you take the time to admire her beauty and your fortune. 

“Telling me not to drown and you’re going to inundate me,” you say in between her smooches, "With all these kisses."

“Well. Mwah.” Another peck. "You're so delectable.”

“So I’m just chicken to you then.” This deep kiss is probably to shut you up. You’re fine with that.

Regret on her mouth that she pulls away from you. One of you rips off her shorts, the last piece of clothing obstructing you two from total symmetry. Who cares who sees. You’re both fully naked with not a woe for the surrounding world. Delicate hands splayed across your upper body grasp tightly and again, your pecs get particular attention while she fondles your nipples. 

She adjusts her back straight up and now she’s on her knees seated on your erection. The cowgirl stance allows her to find a new cusp of your cock head inside her. Hyejoo gyrates on you and you notice the understated lubrication of her pussy begins to overpower everything else in existence. Her musk vaguely reminds you of the ocean while its pheromones have you just as wobbly. It’s enough that, even though you're on your back, you have to hold her waist to avoid keeling over. Nails dig into your chest.

“God, yes, you, your cock, everything, just fuck into me.”

Hyejoo relaxes her body weight and relinquishes the rhythm to you. Pick up a new wind in your sails when you hear her gasp as you pinch her nipples. The momentum has you use all your stamina as though your rigorous fitness had one culminating purpose. You would make Hyejoo cum with only your cock. Rotate and circle your pelvis in pursuit of her most tender spot and an uncharacteristic high pitched wail confirms the location of the treasure. It’s difficult holding yourself up to reach the sensitive wall but she realizes your shared interest.

“That’s, that’s the spot. When I touch myself and think of you, it’s right there, fuck, it’s right there.” There’s no speed or power in your movement, only deliberate jabs and graceful nudges at the softest flesh. Sure it’s work, but damn did you get paid for it since she somehow sops even more between her thighs. Truly the reciprocating delight of friction and silkiness on your dick’s tip is worth it. Your name mixes profanities and wet slapping noises as Hyejoo bucks her hips in climax. Prized juices cascade all over your lap. Her highest vocalizations pierce your ears and her pussy tries its best to milk you but Hyejoo keeps as still as she can to hold your cock’s ideal positioning. Smear the fluids that coat her thighs slick with your hands and lick at your fingers, thirsty like you’re stranded.

Those thighs, by smothering your cock and removing your condom, soothe the pangs of when you pull out. Hyejoo is still in her cowgirl position reeling from her climax and her contorted face is yet more polished than any art you’ve consumed.

Seize the opportunity. Bend your dick forward. The topside of your shaft now rubs on her well-formed ass cheeks, moisturized by the wetness on your cock. Its cradle is different from her pussy's with perfect round cushions in her buns and a tight asshole that greets and tempts your shaft every time you thrust. It’s a siren call you’d have to answer another day. Fucking her bare buttcheeks satisfies you plenty enough.

She lifts up to let your erection return to its idle upward stance and you fuck her thighs in response. Her labia gnaws away at the bottom of your shaft and it begs you to shove it back in especially with how its liquor intoxicates your dick. You don’t forfeit, already overwhelmed by the thickness of her legs and her saliva dribbling from her mouth to help her juices. Hyejoo squirms as you repeat fucking her ass cheeks and fucking her thighs, and it makes the both of you feel heady. Alcohol and lack of sleep would probably do that too.

“Please. Hyejoo,” you implore, flexing your cock to scrape by her pussy lips.

“You want to?” She teases your bare tip but even just the spread of her satin pink on your head makes you shoot just a little. “I. I dunno.”

“Can we?”

“No.” You regret your loud sigh and feel selfish since you already had more satisfaction than one man could ever experience in his life. ”No, not no. No, as in no thinking.”

Plunge back into her wetness. Your cycle in and out continues with you eager to make her climax a second time. Maybe it’s the third time? The only thing you can recall is that this round, you can feel every corner of her pussy on your shaft tensing and relaxing without the latex protection. All of everything is a blur. Hyejoo could be clutching and ogling your muscles. She might be kissing your neck or maybe she’s bobbing up and down to show off her tits and her tummy. God, that midriff would look perfect coated in your cum. You could live forever with Hyejoo mounted on your cock and riding. A ringtone interrupts forever once again. It’s from that number. What was that number? Fuck it, no thinking. Her bouncing tits hypnotize you away from substantiality.

She snaps her fingers. “Hey! Hey. This is, fuck that feels so good, god your cock is just right. Ah fuck, I really think you should answer that.” You take an eternity to slow your boat. Hyejoo points to your phone on the table next to you. Work. She’s right. Both of you take a second to stabilize your breathing. Try to push her off but she refuses, shifting her mass onto your lap and keeping her pussy’s hold tight and warm on you.

“Really?” You groan, “You’re the one who told me to answer it.”

“It’s so late and they haven’t stopped calling.” She rests her head on your chest and yawns. “Your cock is sooo big in me. Don’t even need to move.”

Channel your practice silently jerking off to keep your cool though years of doing that couldn’t prepare you for this. Your hands certainly tried but never could imitate her pussy’s plush tightness. Really wish you didn’t have to but finally, you answer your phone after minutes of ringing. The voice on the other side mumbles a greeting. Didn’t expect to hear him. “Joonho. Why the fuck are you calling now?”

“It’s me! Joonho.”

“Yeah, I know. The hell you calling for?”

“Now that’s no way to speak to your boss, is it?”

“Huh?”

“I said that’s no way to speak.”

“I got that!”

“Hyung. That asshole, management fired him.”

“You telling me-”

“Yeah, they caught him stealing.”

“How the fuck?”

“Dude got too big for his britches and aimed up with his theft too. Mr. Son really didn’t like that shit.”

You cheer in your head. It wakes up the girl resting on you. Guess that wasn’t in your head. “Fuck man.”

"I know right. Fuck him!" You're not on speaker but Hyejoo must’ve heard him say that. You massage your ringing ear.

“Ow. But thank you. Seriously, it’s so late. You could’ve called me tomorrow.”

“I’m drunk as shit man. Sounds like you are too.” You don’t even realize how much you’re slurring your words. “Should I pull up, maybe we drink a little more?”

Stare at the woman still holding your cock in place, fluttering her lashes at you. Hyejoo mouths if you’re gonna take much longer. “I. I don’t think I will. We’ll have to meet up some other time, okay?”

Understanding that you’re winding down your call, she gets back upright and starts bouncing again. “You gonna pass out or something?” Joonho says.

“Something like that” Hyejoo teasingly drops her waist into you and waits, then lifts herself. You purse your lips. “Listen, ah.” And again. Purposeful slams into your cock too loud not to be picked up by a phone. “God. I gotta go, I’ll text you again tomorrow aight goodbye,” you rush your words.

She holds her hair up in pleasure and her profane cries let everyone living below know that you’re fucking the most gorgeous girl with more energy than you’ve ever had. For all the pressure on your sensitive nerves, it’s that image of Hyejoo satisfying her need with your cock that brings you closer.

“I’m almost there! Fuck, fuck.” You pull out and despite her drowsiness, Hyejoo diligently takes your dick with both hands, scoots back and bends down, slobbering on it with her mouth while her fingers stroke the skin of your shaft.

Hyejoo’s lips pop when she releases your cock’s tip. “Where do you wanna-”

“Those fucking perfect abs,” you shudder.

She takes advantage of your previous thrusts’ zeal on her thighs and repositions herself in cowgirl one last time to bend back and choke your cock with her toned legs. One single motion is all it takes. A tsunami and a storm clash. Didn’t remind her that you hadn’t cum at all away at sea as you explode. You call out, “Hyejoo, god, yes, fuck, Hyejoo, yes,” at every wave of pleasure. Shove desperately and Hyejoo’s eyes grow big at how much semen streams out of your slit because the volume of cum nearly rivals the fluid she ejected from her wetness. Her inner thighs, her lap and her stomach all soak in stickiness. She holds onto your arms as she finds enjoyment not only from your cock’s throbbing on her clit, but at your biceps and other curves. An inquisitive pinky takes a sample of your cum to lick up then, to your surprise, she collects all the cum she can with both hands and swallows it down.

“Ahh,” she presents her tongue to you.

Finally, you sit up and no amount of exhaustion would stop you from nibbling her neck as thanks.

“Relax, you hungry beast. You just came all over me and now you’re trying to tell the world we just fucked.” She gives you a little suck on your lips instead.

“I don’t mind.” You clash at her mouth and your teeth click. She smiles and gives you a deep but final smooch. Both of you breathe stiltedly and take time to readjust into the world once again.

“Me neither, if I didn’t have a presentation tomorrow.”

You fall back and feel everything aching in a good way. “Ah shit, school.”

“What did I tell you earlier?”

“Hmm?”

Hyejoo falls flat next to you and clasps her hands into yours. “You will be okay. I called them with an excuse. Speaking of which. You’re gonna find out sooner or later that a certain cool as fuck girl blew the whistle on that son of a bitch.”

This whole thing feels like it should be temporary, like a one-time thing. Any more and it’d be weird, yet her confidence makes you reroute all that anxious energy in your heart’s pace into something good. It’s not love but, “Thanks. I just. Thank you.”

“You are always welcome.” Her lips curl up.

“So. You a snitch now, huh?"

"Relax,” she hisses the end of the word. ”Maybe I snooped through the construction company records, maybe I didn’t. You didn’t hear from me, ‘kay?" She nudges your side with her elbow.

“Hey!” You laugh a little, ticklish in that spot. “Okay, okay. How’d you manage that anyway?”

“Joonho didn’t mention it? Well, I have my connections,” Hyejoo says.

You breathe out and you deserve it. “You really are the Captain.”

“Damn right. Guess you’re stuck on this boat a little.” Yawn. “Longer.” Her eyelids slowly descend.

Watch Hyejoo fall asleep and realize she’s nude and still a little sticky. You decide to make a smart decision just once by putting away all the garbage in your apartment. She giggles reflexively when you clean her up and you struggle but manage to put on her previous outfit.

After you get dressed yourself, you lie next to Hyejoo and watch the few lights in the sky all distanced from each other. You feel a little reticent but the old lady shouldn’t fret if the outdoors is a better bedroom for one night. Close your eyes. Drift away into the best sleep you’ve ever had even if it’s only you and a blanket separate the hard concrete rooftop from the atmosphere. Dreams of water are gracious for once. The ocean lacks bounds and you smile for it. Who cares about tomorrow? It’s made of sticks and rope fashioned from whatever bamboo you could find but the raft holds two. That’s all you need.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"A college roommate scenario where the male reader is living with LOONA's Olivia Hye and she's attracted to him sexually since he moved in due to his physique. Then one day, he got home all stressed and the two hooked up eventually." - @optimisticwritersworld​

AFF, AO3

Pretty sure this was supposed to be all casual but then I started adding to explain the co-ed living scenario and the stress, so here we are. Watch out for more LOONA though no promises on timelines

#kpop smut #loona smut #request #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

[alyasgf]

Reveals?

Part 5 of Everything’s Gonna Be Okay || Masterlist

Word Count- 2615

AO3

Notes- Crazy how I’ve had this chapter drafted for the longest. I went through a spout of hating all of my writing so I wasn’t really motivated. I pretty much just wrote Alyanette until I felt confident enough to continue this so,, yay here we are a couple months later, sorry for the wait.

Begin

She’d never say it aloud, but she adored her partner. She admired him for his optimism, loyalty, and how stupidly brave he could be during battles.

As she detransformed on her bed her mind also wandered to Adrien. It did that a lot recently, flipping back and forth between both blonde boys. It confused her heart, but still she knew it belonged to Adrien, as it always had, as it always would. With his soft laughs and softer smiles, Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to have him.

She laid there, staring up dreamily toward the night sky and holding her hands to her heart until a shadow obscured her view.

She heard a small knock and smiled. Did this stray ever go home?

She opened her sky light and stuck her head out.

“To what do I owe the pleasure savior of Paris?”

In the dim moonlight she could see Chat’s eyes crinkle as he smiled.

“I request your company, and perhaps some sustenance?” He said in an overly formal tone as he kneeled before her.

She laughed before inviting him in.

As he climbed down into her room she could see the glow in his eyes. Something about him was different, he seemed happier.

Most of the times that he would come Marinette could see a lonely sad look break through when he thought she wasn’t looking. It’s not that she minded of course, if she could be a form of comfort for Chat like he was for her she’d take it in a heartbeat.

“I have some chocolate pastries here, although they aren’t too fresh.” She offered him as he crossed the room over to her desktop. She didn’t normally make a habit of keeping food in her room, but Tikki had been snacking. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind too much if Chat stole a few.

“Sounds great Marinette.” He called over his shoulder as he sat in her desk chair and sat in front of her computer.

“What do you say we find some two player game on here and- oh.” Chat stopped mid-sentence and Marinette turned around from grabbing a pastry to see what had happened.

Apparently she forgot to close out the folder of Adrien’s ad photos she had saved on her computer.

She turned bright red as she ran over to the computer and quickly closed it out.

“That’s uh... research! Yeah research on some Gabriel designs!” She lied, facing her back towards Chat so he wouldn’t notice the blush now spreading down her neck.

“Right, well if it were research on Gabriel designs, why only have pictures of Adrien? Other models wear Gabriel brand clothes.” She could practically hear the teasing smirk on his face.

She turned to wack him softly on the shoulder. “Keep on this topic and I’ll make you watch me eat the pastries right here!” She threatened.

Chat held his hands up in mock surrender. “Woah so sorry Adrien Agreste fan #1.” He teased again.

In response Marinette took a large bite out of the pastry she had planned to give him. She made sure to make a show of it, with accompanying sound effects and an exaggerated sigh after she finished chewing.

“Marinette you wound me!” Chat whined, crossing his arms in a dramatic childlike fashion.

Marinette stopped to think about how adorable his pout was before she laughed and went to grab the second pastry.

“Test me again and there will be no more sweets when you come over.” She bluffed.

Chat practically snatched the snack from her hands.

“Then I’d have no reason to come back.” He said through a stuffed mouth.

“No, I think you enjoy my company too much.” She gloated before pulling up a chair beside him. “Now what game did you want to play?”

They spent the next two hours playing fireboy and watergirl, where Marinette was shocked to find they made an incredible team.

——————————————

The akuma was hard, there was no denying that. The akuma called itself Obedience. Anyone struck with its ray was forced to do what ever it said, as though playing a game of simon says with dire stakes.

Marinette regretted staying up so late with Chat the night before. How he managed to have the amount of energy he did was astounding.

Chat had already used his cataclysm and Ladybug had used her lucky charm to set up a trap, all they had to do was lead Obedience into it.

Unfortunately, they needed to charge up before that, seeing as the beeping of their miraculous was giving its final warning before it was going to give up.

They landed on a distant building and de-transformed behind opposite sides of a pillar.

“M’lady do you have any extra snacks? Plagg ate up all his cheese before the battle and I didn’t have time to restock.” Chat called from the other side of the stone divider.

Ladybug giggled. “Looks like you need to learn how to control your friend Chaton. Here.” She reached out with a macaroon for Chat to take.

Her curiosity got the best of her and she couldn’t help but admire his hand as he reached over to take the sweet.

Soft and flawless, other than the messy blue nail polish that glowed in the sunlight. At first she didn’t think anything of it.

“Going for a new look kitty?” She asked lightheartedly as Tikki refueled.

“What? Oh you mean my nails. Well, I had someone paint them for me yesterday and I guess I distracted them too much and they made a mess.” He replied absentmindedly.

Wheels began to turn in Marinette’s brain, but unsure as to why, she didn’t try to make them stop.

“Oh, someone painted them? They look cute, did someone finally take in this alley cat?”

“For someone who hates puns, you really do use a lot of cat related metaphors toward me bug. And as a matter of fact I do, and she’s my girlfriend.” He bragged. “Plagg claws out!”

Ladybug transformed as well and was going to make a joke before a few dot connected before her. Messy blue nails. A girlfriend who painted them the day before. That nail polish looked all too familiar. She tried to push it down, but the dots were already connected.

Suddenly she flashed back to Chat Noir seeing her folder of Adrien photos last night and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Hey bug? You ready to kick this akuma Chat style?”

Ladybug snapped out of her trance. Even if everything that she just thought of was true, there was still an enemy to defeat. She could fully panic later.

“I think you mean Ladybug style. Now let’s go.”

They only just managed to get to the Eiffel Tower before they heard her again.

“Where are you Ladybug and Chat Noir? Don’t you know good children come when they’re called?” Obedience sang from a few streets over.

Chat strode over to lure her to the trap.

“Well maybe this kitty needs to be put in time out.” He replied leaning on his baton juvenilely.

“Oh no sweet boy, bad children must be taught better!” She pointed cane at him and an array of vegetables began to shoot out at him.

“Oh no! I’m afraid already perfectly healthy ma’am!” He leapt and dodged as he lead her straight to Ladybug.

As he turned the corner, there she stood, hands defiantly on her hips a couple of feet away. He scampered around a very large pool of a certain substance that was hardly noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for.

He took his side beside his lady as Obedience followed behind him.

“I’ve got you now tomcat!” Obedience turned the corner too fast and slipped straight into the street filled with a ridiculous amount of oil.

She screamed as she slid, and in her fall her cane flew from her fingers. It’s momentum led it straight toward them. Ladybug stopped it with the bottom of her shoe, and stomped on it with a satisfied grin.

Once she let the akuma go and threw the now empty bottle of oil to reverse the effects of the akuma, she turned to Chat.

“Pound it!” She said it with her usual confidence, but Chat could see something else lingering in her eyes.

But he was supposed to be practicing piano at the moment so he didn’t exactly have too much time to question her about it.

“Pound it.” He replied, touching his fist to hers.

————————-

“Tikki spots off.”

Ladybug de-transformed in her room and immediately began pacing.

“Crap crap crap crap! Tikki I accidentally figured out his identity! How could I be so careless as to look at his hands? Why did I care that much.”

Tikki sighed as she sat on Marinette’s desk. Sometimes it was best to let her get it all out.

“Well obviously I cared that much because Chat Noir is my recently established boyfriend! God he’s going to get such an ego boost when he finds out we’re dating.” Marinette threw herself face first into her chaise.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Tikki zipped over to hove beside her holder’s head.

There was a muffled response from the chair.

“What was that Marinette?”

“No, not yet. First I want to see how much he knows, if he knows anything at all.” Marinette rolled over on the chaise, laying as though she were at a therapists appointment.

“Tikki do you think this will effect our relationship? Will it put us in danger?”

Tikki’s little heart warmed.

“Marinette, you guys will be fine. If anything I think this would bring you closer together. If it puts you in any more danger you’ll handle it together, like you always do.” Tikki flew closer to hug Marinette’s cheek and Marinette let out a deep sigh as she brought a hand up to hug Tikki back.

“Thanks Tikki. You’re the best kwamii anyone could ask for.” Marinette said as the stress melted off of her.

“And you’re the best Ladybug I’ve ever known.” She replied warmly.

Of course things would work out. This was Chat she was talking about, Adrien. There wasn’t a problem he couldn’t help her solve, with or without the masks.

————————-

After going over Tikki’s advice for what felt like hours, Marinette came to a conclusion.

She would tell Chat Noir (Adrien?) who she was. It was only fair, considering she knew his identity. She wouldn’t have came to this on her own, so for the millionth time in her life she thanked Tikki.

But first, she needed to have a little fun. She noticed how Adrien would tease her lately for how flustered she got around him, so she figured the least she could do was use this moment to get revenge.

Too excited to sit still, she transformed to confront her boyfriend.

———————

Adrien was laying in bed reading manga when he heard a tapping at his window. He looked over in shock to see his lady waiting outside.

“Ladybug?” He nearly stuttered out.

She was glowing in the moonlight, backlit in all her glory. She had a playful grin in her lips that made Adrien uneasy.

“Hey pretty boy, mind if I pop in?” She asked casually, as if it were totally normal for Adrien Agreste to have a spotted heroine outside of his window.

He calmed his heart, remembering this was his dorky girlfriend and invited her in. He had to remember to act friendly, not like he would with Marinette, nor like he would as Chat Noir. This wouldn’t be easy.

“Your nails look cute.” She offered casually as she sauntered over to sit in his desk chair.

Adrien froze. Ladybug had noticed Chat Noir’s earlier too.

He quickly pushed that thought away. Marinette had been oblivious of his identity up until this point, even after the thousands of clues he’d managed to drop. He wasn’t exactly concerned anymore.

He decided to take advantage of the chance to compliment his girlfriend without her being able to completely reject it.

“Yeah my girlfriend painted them! She’s so cute and sweet and pretty.” He replied dreamily.

He could see Ladybug’s eyes widen and her blush grow. This was going great.

“Did you need something?” He asked innocently.

“I- uh-“ Adrien laughed, his girlfriend really wasn’t too different outside of the suit. Flustered and flushed, she was still Marinette.

Suddenly something in her eyes changed. One second they were wide and almost panicked, the next they were full of suspicion.

“You know don’t you!” She accused more than asked. She stalked over and jabbed a finger lightly into his chest.

Now it was Adrien’s turn to panic.

“Know what?” He asked, hoping to play dumb.

“You do!”

So much for feigning innocence. Instead he opted for begging for forgiveness.

“Marinette, i’m so sorry! It’s just I knew you’d panic if I told you when I found out and it’s not like I tried to figure out your identity! It’s just that you put so much effort into the whole kwamiibuster scheme-“

“You’ve known since kwamiibuster?!” She practically shouted.

“-and you looked so cute.” Adrien added still trying to lighten the blow. “I didn’t tell anyone and I’ve known for a while and nothing bad happened so I figured-“

Ladybug cut off his rambling with a kiss.

Adrien was stunned at first but then ultimately sighed into the kiss as he leaned into her touch. His arms looped around her waist as he pulled her close, hands tracing patterns into her spandex covered back.

He pulled pack slightly, noses still touching. He could feel her breath ghost his lips.

“So we’re okay?” He asked hopefully, eyes looking deep into hers as they caught their breath.

“Of course, minou. I just wish you would’ve told me before you saw that embarrassing folder on my computer.” She blushed.

“Oh? But then I wouldn’t be able to tease you about it. Tell me, which one was your favorite? Do you think the greens really brought out my eyes?”

“You’re the worst!” She exclaimed, attempting to pull from his embrace. Adrien’s arms held her fast in place.

“You love me!” He announced proudly as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Ladybug is dating Chat Noir!”

“Would you be quiet! I don’t want to have to explain to Nathalie why Paris’ superhero is standing in your room.” She giggled into Adrien’s shoulder.

“Ladybug is dating Chat Noir” He whispered, this time softer as he nuzzled her neck.

“Yes she is.” Ladybug sighed, resigning to Adrien’s touch.

“Now,” He released the girl as he turned and clasped his hands together. “de-transform. We’ve had plenty of date night in your room-“

“Those weren’t technically dates” She interjected.

“-And not enough in mine.” He gave her a pointed look as he continued. “Of course, since it’s my room, I have full say in what we watch.” He could hear Marinette’s pout as she de-transformed. “But I’ll take suggestions.”

Marinette crossed over to where Adrien was pacing in anticipation and threw her arms around his shoulders from behind. She placed a quick kiss on the base of his neck.

“New Girl again!” She said excitedly.

“No.”

#adrien and marinette #miraculous marinette #adrien agreste #ladybug and chat noir #marichat #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #miraculous lb #mlb marinette #mlb identity reveal #mlb fic #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic

[carewyncromwell]

“How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto -- Never easy, but we try. Sometimes our happiness is captured; Somehow our time and place stand still... Love lives on inside our hearts and always will... Minutes turn to hours, days to years, then gone, But when all else has been forgotten, Still our song lives on...”

~“How Does a Moment Last Forever? (cover)” by Celine Dion

x~x~x~x

tw: character death, funerals, grief

x~x~x~x

The kelpie known as Ru Ollivander always knew their time on Earth would be fleeting -- at least, in comparison to the human witches and wizards they’d ended up living alongside. It was the main reason Ru had such a passion for photography, animation, and moving pictures. The thought of capturing a single moment and making it last beyond that moment...making it possible to relive that moment over and over again, as many times as one wanted...it was meaningful in a way Ru couldn’t quite put into words. 

And so over the years, the eccentric, blunt kelpie -- never the best at expressing themselves in the way more upright, classy humans did -- captured as many memories as they could of the things they found most remarkable about the Wizarding World they’d entered. They sketched the rows upon rows of disgusting-looking ingredients in jars set up in the Potions classroom. They took pictures of the way the moon looked from the Astronomy Tower after a thunderstorm. They made animations of how Venomous Tentaculas and Mandrakes grew, compressing entire months into mere seconds. And, of course, over the years, Ru used their cinematograph, Aeroscope, and other cameras to film the humans who had become most important to them -- their best friend, Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier​​; their fellow Ravenclaw and Galen’s eventual other half, Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-needs-coffee​; and their “keeper”-turned-muse-and-life partner, Estrid Soelberg @thatravenpuffwitch​​. 

One morning, however, in the 1930′s, Estrid returned to the cottage she shared with Ru from a trip to the market to find the entire place in disarray. A table had been overturned, Ru’s camera was knocked over on its side, and a drawer of photographs had been pulled out, its contents spread out all over the floor. Alarmed, Estrid rushed to find Ru -- when she did, she found them on the floor, in full kelpie form, looking very restless and distraught as they huffed and puffed through their nose and mouth. Estrid hurriedly rushed over and bent down, trying to help, but it soon became clear what the problem was.

Ru couldn’t change form. They couldn’t transform themselves out of their real appearance. ...They couldn’t turn into a human anymore. 

The realization overwhelmed Ru. As much as they always knew the day would come, it wasn’t any less devastating. They’d never have hands again. They’d never have legs or feet again. They’d never speak properly again. They’d never be able to take any more pictures, or make any more movies, or make improvements to their cameras, or draw any more sketches or animations. They’d never be able to visit Galen’s classroom anymore for his lectures. They’d never be able to exchange any more friendly swears with Siobhan over a game of Wizard’s Chess. ...They’d never be able to comfort Estrid again...never be able to stroke her hair and hold her until she stopped crying...never be able to play her film reels of her grandfather, or plant flowers in the garden with her, or dance with her in the rain...they’d never be able to tell her how much they loved her.

The kelpie’s eyes fell toward the ground, darkening, as they flooded with tears. Those tears streaked down their long face in cold, deafening silence. Estrid, who’d almost never seen Ru cry in all their time together, found herself struggling not to break down completely herself as she threw her arms around Ru’s snout and hugged them, resting her face in their overgrown seaweed mane. The two sat together on the floor for what felt like hours, crying and cuddling as best they could, Ru pressing their soft nose into Estrid’s cheek and the crook of her neck and Estrid kissing their nose and the top of their head. 

Estrid wrote to the Staggs to pass along the news. Galen pretty much dropped everything to be by his friend’s side -- the magizoologist had always had a particular talent for speaking to magical creatures, and it had never been more useful than in those final weeks of Ru’s life. It seemed that what upset Ru most out of everything was that they’d had a project they hadn’t been able to finish. It was an incomplete film reel they’d stored under their and Estrid’s bed for the last year, taking out and working on only whenever Estrid wasn’t home. 

Galen had made as if to go get it, but Ru had snatched his sleeve in their teeth and pulled him back so he couldn’t leave their side.

“Not yet,” they were clearly saying. “It’s not time. Please, not yet.”

Reluctantly Galen respected his friend’s wishes. 

Within a month of them being unable to change back into a human, Galen and Siobhan received the owl they’d been dreading. Ru had passed the previous night, Estrid by their side all the way up until the end. 

As per Ru’s wishes, their funeral service was very small. They were laid to rest beside the small pond behind their and Estrid’s cottage -- Galen knew that kelpies’ bodies tended to decompose quickly, leaving only the seaweed of their manes behind at the bottom of the seafloor. There wasn’t a dry eye during the modest ceremony.

On Galen’s prompting, Estrid went to their room and fetched Ru’s unfinished project from under their bed. Inside the box holding the film reel were hundreds, maybe thousands of old photographs and drawings, many of which Galen, Estrid, and Siobhan had never seen. Some featured Hogwarts, from different angles; some were of the places they’d been to, or the creatures they handled, or the food they ate, or just cool and random things they only half-remembered. Most of all, though, the pictures were of them...and a small fraction, toward the very front, were of Ru themselves. 

It was incredible, just looking through the pictures. Forty years of memories were compiled together, documenting not just the changes in those years, but the advancement in Ru’s talent as an artist. The newest pictures were so much clearer and more life-like -- the magical ones moved with such clarity -- the drawings were more refined -- the animations more complex. The pictures placed side-by-side were an animation unto themselves: a beautiful montage of time, like a blooming flower. 

Siobhan was the one who knew Ru’s equipment well enough to work out how to set up the projector so they could play the incomplete film reel. The beginning featured Ru as the three remembered them -- very long, wavy black hair, bright blue angled eyes, and diamond earrings, dressed in a dark violet velvet suit and vest with no collared shirt underneath and a gold and emerald necklace around their neck. They were smirking right at the camera, but it seemed to be a bit strained. 

“Hi, Estrid. Galen...Siobhan...reckon you’re both here too. You are the only one who could ever figure out how to work the projector, Sha.”

They cleared their throat, snorting through their nose before continuing. 

“...I’ve...recorded this a few times already, trying to get it right, but...well, I’ll just be straight. This morning...I had trouble creating my daddles.”

They held up their right hand and flourished the fingers in explanation. 

“I woke up with hooves and it took me about a minute to conjure up my fingers. I didn’t tell you, Estrid, since I knew it’d only make you worry, but...well, I know I’ll only be doing more of that, soon.”

They forced a stronger smirk.

“So I decided to make this for you. It’s a compilation of our lives...one that you can hopefully play, when you need to remember. When you need to get away from the present, and run back to the past for a bit. Watch it every time you feel the urge to drink -- and then push away that urge.”

The moving image of Ru was replaced with the pictures, movies, drawings, and animations the three had seen in the box, overlaying Ru’s voice as they continued.

“When I first started disguising myself as Rudolph Ollivander, all I cared about was living in the moment. But the thing I found so amazing about being human was this instinct you all have to try to make moments last long after they’re over. Considering how long you all live, and therefore how short my existence is in comparison, I loved the thought of making something last. Something I made last. I wanted to plant some seed that would grow into something that would keep growing long after me. But it didn’t take me long to realize that even if I took great photographs, or made beautiful films, or made the best magical camera in the world...it didn’t matter. Because I didn’t have a family who would tend to my garden, after I left it. I didn’t have a family who would keep the things I’d made, and pass them on, and share them with the world. ...I didn’t have a family who would pass on my legacy. After Hogwarts, it’d be a lot harder to hide what I was from the world...and once everyone knew the truth, I would undoubtedly be alone again. It was something I knew was inevitable, really, so it didn’t break me or anything...but me leaving something lasting behind was still a dream I knew would never come true. And I won’t lie, that hurt like shit.

“But then, somehow...somehow or another, I ran into you, Estrid. I was steamed as all get-out when we first met, mind you...but I don’t think I’ll ever be more grateful for anything than you stopping me from eating that first year that day. The bridle you put on me? I hated it. I had to stay in one form for almost eight whole years, and that was a real pain in the arse. But as I told you before, over time, I found I didn’t mind so much. Kelpies don’t stay in one form because changing forms helps us survive. It keeps us safe and keeps any other creatures from getting close enough to eat or trap us. And sure, I couldn’t change form...but I wasn’t exactly trapped. Hogwarts was a fun place to be. There was a lot to learn and do and get into, and there were all sorts of rules to buck and dozens of lick-spittles to give a good arse-kicking to. And better still...there were even some humans that were fun to be around.”

The pictures all started to reflect Galen -- at the piano, with a tree of bowtruckles, laughing at a joke -- Galen and Ru running down the lane away from the Shrieking Shack --

“There were ones who were gentle. Pacifistic and wussy, yeah, but also...well, kind. Good at expressing their feelings and making others feel stronger. Good at being brave without being loud or obnoxious. Good at being a friend, to someone who didn’t know anything about friendship.”

The pictures then started to add Siobhan, often alongside Galen, but also on her own, or even with Estrid and Ru.

“There were ones who were clever. Too proud for their own good and prone to overthinking things that are really quite simple...but brilliant, and witty, and a blast to be around. Someone who you can share your interests with and know they appreciate them.”

The pictures then shifted over to Estrid with braids in her hair -- Estrid sitting by the pond in their garden -- Estrid dancing -- 

“And...there were ones who could change you...more than you ever thought possible.”

The pictures abruptly cut off -- Ru’s face returned to the projector. They were still talking to the camera, but it was clear they hadn’t intended for their face to be seen, as they weren’t looking straight at the lens anymore. 

“A ‘keeper,’ who became a friend, and then a muse...and then something more. An equal and a partner...someone who makes you unafraid of the future and how fleeting life is, who actually makes you think that your life makes a difference. Who teaches you more than any book, without even trying. Someone patient, and brave, and compassionate...who never tries to stuff the silence full of worthless words...whose beauty masks a greater one underneath, one that few people ever are fortunate enough to see...”

Ru’s eyes on screen had begun to flood with tears. They closed their eyes and breathed in and out through their nose to try to get a rein on their emotions.

“...Estrid...my whole life, I wanted to leave something behind that would outlive me. That thing isn’t just my pictures, or my films, or my drawings -- it’s you. You are my legacy. You and Galen and Siobhan...you are the wonderful thing I’ll leave behind. It breaks my heart that I’ll have to...and it breaks my heart more, knowing I can’t make sure you all remain as you are, in this moment. Healthy. Successful. Stupid and happy and full of life.”

They forced a smile even as their electric blue eyes overflowed with tears that streaked down their face. 

“I don’t have a family to make sure you all last beyond me...but I do have you. So, for me...I need you to tend to my garden. I need you to maintain my legacy -- by maintaining yourself. I need you to live, and heal, and grow, and do everything I can’t do...”

Ru was unable to keep themselves from breaking down into sobs. They bowed their head, clutching onto their own hair as they vainly tried to keep their voice steady. 

“Don’t throw your time away. Don’t throw your lives away. If you do, I’ll never bloody forgive you!”

For the next minute they took a few stabilizing breaths, sucking in air shakily through their nose and mouth. 

“Damn it...” they hissed under their breath. “Now I have to cut this...”

They swallowed, wiping the tears from their eyes with both hands. The tears left tracks on their face even as they forced themselves to return their focus to the camera. 

“...Make every moment count...and when you can, make that moment last forever.

“I realized, when I was looking through my old pictures, that I’ve never really taken many pictures of me. I guess in the moment, I really was a lot more focused on capturing everything I saw, rather than myself. So here are some pictures I took more recently that have me in them. Hopefully you can use them to imagine me behind every picture I took earlier, of all of you. Even though I probably wasn’t smiling or anything...I’m sure you know I was enjoying myself, right? ...I did enjoy myself a lot, with all of you...”

They forced another smile, even though the tears on their face still shone in the light from the next room.

“I remember you once said, Galen, that you could see the love in the pictures I take. I still don’t really know what the hell that’s supposed to mean...but I reckon you bringing up love made some sense. I did love taking those pictures, every one of them -- and more than that...I learned about love, through the people in those pictures. So thank you. Thank you for loving me...and for teaching me so much. And even when this film reel’s obsolete, and my pictures are ruined, and my drawings fade...don’t stop doing things that are worth remembering. Keep making more memories. I know I’ll never forget you -- all you have to do now is make sure the rest of the world won’t either.

“So live. Live, and learn, and love. Make today last forever.” 

When Ru’s film reel finally ended and faded to black, Galen, Siobhan, and Estrid were all in tears. Galen was clinging to his wife, his face buried in her hair and his hands clutching at the back of her dress as he sobbed. Siobhan herself had her eyes shut tight as she held Galen in return, unable to contain her own grief. Estrid was holding herself, tears streaming from her hazel eyes still staring at the blank projector screen where Ru had been smiling moments earlier. She closed her eyes, her hands covering her face as she cried silently. 

The grief in the room was overwhelming, and yet Ru’s final unfinished present tapped into something at the base of the grief -- the deep, bottomless love they all felt. For as blunt and stubborn as Ru could be, the depth of their feelings was undeniable. They didn’t want their loved ones to despair -- they wanted them to remember, yes, but not languish in the memories...to live with an eye on the past and feet walking toward the future. Ru knew the grief Estrid had gone through when she’d lost her grandfather, and had tried so hard to give her something to help her through her grief again even when they weren’t there to physically support her.

And so over the years, Siobhan, Galen, and Estrid maintained Ru’s legacy. The three lived their lives to the fullest and worked to make sure that no one forgot about all of the advancements Ru had made in the world of wizarding photography. Galen used Ru’s old film reels of magical creatures in his classes; Siobhan took even more pictures of her own; and Estrid fought to ensure Ru’s work was put up in wizarding museums and exhibitions all over Europe, as a testament to her partner’s talent and dedication. 

A man has no control who lives, who dies, and who tells their story...but the ones who they love in life, and who inspire them in death, are the most precious legacy they can leave behind. 

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #ru ollivander #estrid soelberg #siobhan llewelyn #galen stagg #my art #my writing #*throws herself off a cliff sobbing* EHHHHHH #I cried several times writing this good god ;~; #I am so sorry everybody #but this song gave me such ru feels and I just had to get them out #in my headcanon kelpies grow more and more seaweed-like hair on their bodies as they grow hence why ru's got so much now #most real life horses die between the ages of 25-30 so ru actually lived a pretty long time in comparison #but yeah estrid galen and siobhan would've been in their 40's when ru died #I tapped into a lot of feelings surrounding the people I've lost while writing this #so hopefully the grief comes through #'hopefully' guh #if it does I apologize in advance

[hopelikethemoon]

First Day Back (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: First Day Back Rating: PG Length: 2000 Warnings: None Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set after Josie’s birth. Sorry for the delay in updating, you can read about it here.  Summary: Reader’s maternity leave comes to an end. 

@grapemama​​​​​ @seawhisperer​​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​​ @beccaplaying​​​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​​​ @ham4arrow​​​​​ @plexflexico​​​​ @readsalot73​​​​​ @hdlynn​​​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​​​ @randomness501​​​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​​​  @roxypeanut​​​​​ @snivellusim​​​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​​​@ ​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​​​​ @ah-callie​​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​ @u-wakatoshii​ @space-floozy​​​​ @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd​​​ @himbopoes​​​​​ @findhimfives​​​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​​​  @cinewhore​@random066​​​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​ @cyarikaaa​​​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​​ @yabby-girl​​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​​ @punkass-potato​​​​ @coredrive​​​​ @pascalesque​​​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​​​ @queenquazar​​​​​ @sabinemorans​​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​​​ @jaime1110​​​​​ @katlikeme​

Going back to work after weeks of maternity leave was an adjustment. Leaving Josie across the hall with the kind older woman who had been your neighbor since moving to Colombia was easier than expected. At least it was, right up until the moment you sat down at your desk and realized it would be eight hours until you saw her again. 

Javier didn’t make it any easier. You had gotten too comfortable with him lately — which was easy to do, considering he frequently spent the night at your apartment and you had gotten used to waking up in his arms. But it also meant you were off your game. 

Your hopes that he would be on assignment when you started back in the office were quickly dashed when plans fell through and Javier was stuck at his desk across from you. 

Before Josie was born, you had gotten good at masking your emotions and framing your interactions with work-appropriate distance. Now you felt like every look set off a neon sign above your heads announcing what you were hiding. 

Javier was shit at hiding his soft smiles and lingering looks. The kind that made your cheeks warm and your heart flutter. 

“Welcome back.” Chris said flatly as he strolled into the office and threw his briefcase down on his desk. 

“You’re late.” Javier stated as he fed a new piece of paper into the typewriter. 

“Flat tire.” 

“Pissed anyone off lately?” You quipped, shuffling through a stack of files on your desk. 

“Oh, fuck off.” Chris sneered and muttered. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse.”

You snorted, “Happy to be of service.” Ever since Chris had been assigned to the office, you had butted heads with him. Before Josie, in those three awkward months before you told Javier about your pregnancy, things had been okay. 

It was clear Chris hated you, simply because you were a woman who had the job he wanted, but the depths of his hatred became more apparent when the news broke about your pregnancy and your job — as far as you knew — wasn’t up for grabs.

“Peña, how was your weekend?” 

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he looked up from typing. “Yeah.” He shrugged a shoulder. “How was yours?”

“Took my lady friend on a little trip.” Chris boasted as he sank down in his chair, stretching his arms out before tucking his hands behind his head. “You get any action, man?”

You focused on the form you were filling out to get your firearm certification approved again. 

“You know how it is,” Javier said vaguely as he shook a packet of cigarettes and tapped it against his palm. “I’ve been working a new informant.”

You knew it was a lie, but it didn’t change the fact that it didn’t sit well with you. Javier had been with you and Josie all weekend. The most action he’d gotten was when you both fell asleep on the sofa at noon because your daughter had decided to stay up the night before. 

There was no new informant, but your brain still came at you with — “What if there was?” 

“You’re a lucky bastard, Peña.” Chris drummed his fingers against the top of his desk, “I don’t seem to have the way with women that you do.”

“I wonder why.” You muttered as you signed your name on the bottom of the form and tucked it back into the folder as you stood up. “Anyone got any other forms that need to be processed? I’m taking this down to Betty.”

“I didn’t know you came back to be our assistant. Maybe this day isn’t fucked after all.” Chris smirked at you as he shuffled through his mess of a desk and tossed a file on top. “There.” 

You offered him a tight-lipped smile as you snatched it up, before turning towards a Javier. “Got anything?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth as he tucked a cigarette behind his ear. “I’ve got shit to take her before a meeting with the director. I’ll walk with you and catch you up on what you’ve missed.”

“Alright.” You tilted your head to the side as you met his gaze, keeping your expression as impassive as possible. “Hopefully I haven’t missed too much.”

“Same old, same old.” Javier pursed his lips as he got his files together and stood. “It’s nice to have you back in the office. Chris is shit company.”

“You know you love me, Peña.” Chris chided, already focused on whatever work he had piled up on his desk. 

“It’s good to be back.” You said casually, holding the folder against your chest as you walked along beside him. “You didn’t have to come with me.” 

Javier’s fingers curled around your elbow, making you stop now that you were out of earshot, “You know that there’s no informant. Right?” 

You blinked at him, pulling your arm out of his grasp. “Unless she’s hiding under my bed, I didn’t think there was anyone else.” You looked back down the hallway towards where the desks were, before looking back at him. “It’s fine, Javi.”

“Keeping this charade up—“

“Not now.” You scolded him, before starting back in the direction of Betty’s office. He was quick to catch up with you, falling into step beside you. “I just meant that I’ve had to keep up appearances here. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s an adjustment.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “The last year has been an adjustment. But we’re doing what we can.” You held out your hand, “I’ll take the files to Betty for you.” 

Javier smirked at you, “Didn't need to take anything to her.” He told you as he sat the empty folder in your hand and used it as an excuse to brush his fingers over the back of your hand. “But I do have a meeting with the director,” He glanced at his watch. “In ten minutes.”

“See you later?” You questioned with a hopeful smile. 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” A faint smile crossed his lips, before he continued down the hall and around the corner towards the director’s office. 

 ——

 You hadn’t anticipated just how relieved you were to have Josie back in your arms after work. Luciana regaled you with details about the day — nap times, feedings, how curious Josie was about her nephew that she also watched. You had missed all of that and there was no way to get that time back. 

It helped put into perspective how Javier felt. He’d missed out on so much — during your pregnancy, during the birth, in the days and weeks that followed. You missed part of a day and you felt guilty over it. 

But you knew better than to expect that he’d ever talk about it. He tiptoed around the more difficult topics and you didn’t hold that against him. Your entire relationship was difficult and you didn’t see a path forward that made it easier.

Javier was stuck in a weird sort of limbo where he lived two very different lives. 

You cradled Josie against your chest as you peered through the peephole, before pulling open the door to let Javier in.

“There’s my girls,” He said warmly as he smiled at you, before looking towards Josie. “How did she do?”

“Luciana told me she was a dream to watch.” You offered, kissing the top of her head as she cooed softly. “I think we missed her more than she missed us.”

Javier’s hands went to his hips as he nodded his head, “Good.” He scrapped his teeth over his bottom lip as his gaze darted back to meet your eyes. “How are you?”

“Tired.” You shrugged, before walking towards the sofa. “But I’m so glad that I’m back at work. I missed it.”

“It was nice to look across the office and see you sitting there,” Javier drawled out as he pulled off his leather jacket, draping it over the back of the sofa before he sat down beside you. 

“My firearms certification got approved.” You told him as you readjusted Josie in your arms so she could see Javier better. “I’ve got the course on Friday. I’m hoping that it means I have a chance to get back in the field… with you.” 

Javier’s lips drew upwards at the corners, “Yeah?”

“It’s one step in the right direction, at least.” You shrugged. “You wanna hold her?” He nodded and you shifted so you could settle her into his arms. “I think she missed you more than me.”

Javier chuckled, “I don’t know about that, baby.”

You grinned at him, “Look at the way she’s looking at you.” You pointed out, watching as Josie looked up at him with a wide-eyed and marveling gaze. “And I seem to remember the way she was always kicking when you were around.” 

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek gently, “Think we might have a daddy’s girl on our hands?”

“I know we do.” You slid your hand under his arm, curling your fingers around his arm at the elbow as you leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Are you staying tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

You squeezed his arm three short times, “Yes.” 

Javier turned his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t be here tomorrow night. I’ve got a lead to work outside of the city. I could swing by, but it would be late.”

“Javier?”

“Hmm?”

You played with the soft hair that curled around his ear, “I trust you.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up, baby.” Javier admitted. “This shit isn’t easy, but it’s worth it.” He exhaled heavily as he stared down at Josie as she curled her fingers around his thumb and tried to suck on it. 

“I know.” You pressed your lips against the curve of his shoulder and let them linger there as you sighed. “But work comes first.”

Javier’s brows drew together, his lips moving like he meant to say something more than a simple, “Yeah.” 

You trailed your fingers back towards the nape of his neck, ruffling the hair there as you watched his face. “I don’t mind if you show up late.”

“I don’t want to wake you up.”

“I’m getting pretty good at surviving on limited sleep.” You whispered, nodding your head towards Josie as she was slowly batting her eyes up at both of you. “I should feed her and get her down for the night.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he hesitated for just a fraction of a second before nodding. “I’ll go grab my bag out of the car.”

“Alright,” You said softly as you ran your hand down his arm and squeezed. “We’ll be waiting for you.” You promised as you took Josie from him. 

Javier rested his hand on your leg, giving it three squeezes before he hauled himself off the sofa. “We’re good, right?”

“Javi,” You shook your head incredulously. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He shrugged, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I’m gonna go grab my bags.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him walk away, your heart aching just a little at how uncertain he still was in your relationship. You couldn’t blame him — you felt the same way most of the time, you just tried to ignore it. 

Going back to work would be an adjustment. Figuring out how to navigate the duality of your relationship — professional and private — would be a challenge. But it was worth it. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[prettyboybarzal]

tattoos together (3) // tyler seguin

(PART ONE) (PART TWO)

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: being in dallas with tyler feels exactly right, but it’s not reality and both of you know it. with your trip coming to an end in just a few short days, you and tyler struggle to come to terms with whatever it is between you.

(2016 dallas stars and 2/3 of tyler’s dogs, apologies if some details aren’t accurate about the stars season. i was too lazy to do my research.)

word count: 9k+ (she a lil thicc)

author’s note: you know the drill... like, reblog, shoot me a message. ((hopefully part 4 will be up next sunday, but first i gotta write it)) xoxo love y’all!!!!

warnings: more alcohol, angst (???), def cursing

The rest of your time at Casa de Seguin, as Tyler keeps calling it, is packed full of things to do. He seems to have a plan for every second of every day. While you appreciate the thoughtfulness, it feels like the two of you haven’t been alone and lazy together like the old days and you miss it.

Tyler misses it, too, but the idea of the two of you being alone again brings him to places he knows he can’t go with you.

Three days before your flight, Tyler is making breakfast with the dogs at his feet. When you enter the kitchen, he smiles over at you before stating, “I haven’t planned anything for today. I was thinking maybe we could go to the Rangers game tonight?”

You don’t respond off the bat, leaning against the counter. The lack of a response has him glancing over with a raised eyebrow.

“Ty, we haven’t stopped moving for days,” you state. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love how much we’ve done. I feel like I know Dallas and Texas like the back of my hand. However, we’re constantly surrounded by people and fans and friends of yours, especially Jamie. I just want one day with just you, and the boys.”

You and the boys. Tyler loves the sound of that coming out of your mouth. The dogs do, too. They turn their heads at the inflection of your voice when you referenced them and Cash comes trotting over to plop at your feet. Tyler glances over with a smile and nods.

“Alright, how about this?” he asks. He turns the heat on the stove off and moves the frying pan over to let the eggs simmer. “We go to the dog park with them and then we can come back and just hang out back. I’ll grill up some burgers for lunch or something.”

“That sounds perfect,” you admit. Tyler smiles. “Need help with breakfast?”

“Can you put on a pot of coffee?”

You nod, moving to grab two mugs from his cabinet before brewing it. The two of you work in silence, backs to each other, but you keep stealing glances at him as he puts together your plates and throws some bread in the toaster.

You pour the coffee into each mug, asking Tyler if he still takes his black (the answer is yes), and hand his mug to him. He shoos you away to the dining table so that he can present the food to you in a dramatic fashion.

He glides into the room with a plate in each hand and does a little spin before putting the plates down on the table. The dogs are waiting eagerly for something to drop, but Tyler pulls the spin move off elegantly. He sits across from you and announces in an atrocious French accent, “Bon appetite.”

Marshall and Cash lose their minds when Tyler pulls their leashes from the closet. Marshall hears it from another room and comes running at the sound, practically knocking you on your ass in the process. Tyler attaches each leash to their collars and hands Cash’s over to you.

When you get to the park it’s almost empty, save for a family or two. You walk through the gates and unleash the boys who immediately start chasing each other around the open space.

Tyler nods towards a bench and sits down, tugging on your hand to pull you down beside him. You lean forward with your elbows on your thighs and rest your head in your hand, watching the dogs play. Tyler leans back against the back of the bench. He reaches out and rubs a hand on your back before pulling it away to pick up a ball by his feet. He whistles once and calls, “Cash, Marshall!”

The dogs come running, tripping over each other as they approach. Tyler smiles and throws the ball, sending them the opposite direction. You giggle as Cash gets to it first and comes running back, Marshall chasing him the entire way.

Cash drops the ball at your feet, so you grab it before Marshall can snatch it up and toss it again.

The whole day is so domestic. Making breakfast together, bringing the dogs to the dog park, having barbeque plans for lunch. It’s so domestic that it makes your cheeks burn with a blush you haven’t felt in a long time.

Tyler feels it, too.

Back at home, Tyler is quick to change for the pool. It’s hot and by the time you’ve gotten back to the house Tyler is all sweaty from wrestling the dogs. You change into your suit in the guest room where you’ve been staying the entire trip. The suit is a new bikini and before heading out you make sure to lather the tattoo with sunscreen.

Tyler’s mouth goes dry when you exit the back door of his house and step out in your tiny, bright red bikini. He’s thankful for the dogs and his sunglasses because the combination of the two things make it seem like he isn’t staring at you, but trust… He most certainly is.

“Want a beer?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answers. You turn and walk back into the house, amazingly not feeling the weight of his gaze on you despite the fact that he can’t stop staring at your ass.

You return with two beers in your hands and sit at the edge of the pool with your feet in. You hand Tyler his bottle with a soft smile as Cash settles beside you on the brick. Tyler taps the neck of your bottle with his.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tyler says. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. “Otherwise I’d have to leave the pool myself to get the beers.”

You splash water at him with a kick of the foot, but he dodges it.

You stand again, retrieving your towel from a lounge chair to spread it out beside the pool. Tyler watches you situate yourself, smiling to himself at the sight. He sees the tattoo from a far, but he wishes he could get a better look.

Cash comes over to curl up against your legs and soak up the sun with you. You smile down at the dog as Tyler chuckles at the scene playing out in front of him.

“I think Cash is in love with you,” he says. “I can’t say I blame him.”

About an hour and a few beers later, Tyler reaches out of the water with his cold and soaking hands to grab your ankles. He tugs on them, attempting to make you come into the water with him. You kick his hand away, sending him an irritated face. He pouts at you and begs, “Come in please.”

“Why?” you ask tersely. “I’m tanning.”

“You’ve been tanning for hours now,” he complains. You roll your eyes, sitting up so that you’re on your elbows to get a better look at him. “Just come in.”

“The only way you’re getting me to come in is if you make me,” you inform him. What a stupid thing to say to Tyler Seguin. He smiles at the challenge and climbs out of the pool, towering over you so that his body blocks the sun. You immediately realize where you fucked up and murmur, “Why did I say that?”

Without another word, Tyler reaches down and grabs both your arms until you’re standing in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground, and tosses you into the pool. He jumps in a second after to join you.

When you pop up above the surface, your hair is matted over your face. You reach up to wipe it away while you catch your breath, but Tyler’s hand is already moving to do it for you. He pulls the hair out of your face, revealing the glare you reserved just for him. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close to him.

“I don’t know why I always challenge you like you won’t follow through,” you admit, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Tyler laughs. You wrap your legs around his waist and the laughter stops almost immediately as it gets caught in his throat. You reach one hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He drops his head to your shoulder to give you better access.

“Would you hate it if I was planning to have a party tomorrow night?” Tyler asks. His face is tilted so that his lips ghost the skin on your neck as he speaks. You lean your head on his, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your arms, trying to blame them on the breeze.

“For me?”

“Yeah, like a goodbye and I’ll see you soon party,” he states. He pulls away to look up at you. “I’ll totally cancel it if you don’t want it to happen.”

“No, that’s okay,” you answer. “It’ll be nice to go out with a bang.”

Another hum rumbles in his chest. He stands in the shallow end, you wrapped around him, for a few more silent minutes. Your fingers run through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck to twirl the longer pieces around your index finger. The hand not wrapped around your body reaches up to your ribs. Tyler looks at his fingers as he brushes them over your tattoo and then he lets out a hefty sigh.

“I keep forgetting that this isn’t my real life,” he mumbles. Your fingers stop moving in his hair. He shifts slightly and places a kiss to your collarbone before he pulls his arms away and you drop your legs from his waist. “Want another beer?”

Your response comes out in the form of a whisper, “That’d be great.”

Tyler gets out of the pool and grabs a towel to dry himself before heading back up to the house for the beers. The dogs follow closely behind leaving nothing to distract you from your thoughts and Tyler’s words keep playing on repeat in your head.

Once the sun sets, you’re all showered and ready for dinner. Tyler’s busy with the dogs and getting his own self comfortable that you have a few minutes to yourself. You’re sitting at the end of the bed in the guest room in a pair of joggers and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts when Dan texts to see if you’re around to talk. You call him right away, realizing that the two of you hadn’t spoken on the phone since your first night in Dallas.

“Hey, babe,” he greets. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you murmur. You lay back and stare at the ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he answers. “A little swamped at work. I wish I was coming home to you.”

“I’ll be home in two days!”

“I can’t wait.”

There’s a moment of silence that makes your stomach upset. You know the next time you are home with Dan is going to be nothing like the last times you’ve been at home with him. For one, California is calling. And, on the other hand, you’re so absolutely fucking in love with Tyler that it makes you a little bit sick.

Dan’s voice brings you back down to Earth as he asks, “What are you doing now?”

“Well, I just showered,” you explain. “Now I’m waiting for dinner to get here.”

“What’s the plan for dinner?”

“We ordered Chinese,” you answer. “Gonna go sit out by the fire pit and eat.”

“Sounds perfect,” he muses. When you don’t respond, he gets restless. “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

You don’t mean for it to come out without a second thought, but your conscience feels way too guilty to keep this charade up for three more days. You blurt out, “I was offered a job at a publishing house in California before I left for Dallas. I accepted it.”

“I’m happy for you, YN,” he says. Although those words come out of his mouth, you can tell he doesn’t mean it. He’s confused by what this means. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you were applying out there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you answer. “It’s just that I’ve been coming up empty in Boston and New York and I went to that conference last month where they said California is a hot spot right now for people looking to go into publishing.”

“So, you’re moving to California?”

“Yes,” you answer, running a hand over your face in frustration. “The job starts on July 15th.”

“That’s in like three weeks,” Dan says. “That’s so soon.”

“I know.”

“I wish you told me.” It’s so silent on his end of the phone that you can hear Tyler talking to the dogs across the house. You stand up and start to pace the room. “What does this even mean for us?”

“Um, I don’t think I’m interested in doing long-distance,” you tell him. He sighs. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this over the phone.”

“I mean, I definitely would’ve preferred a face-to-face conversation,” he admits. “But I did ask why you didn’t sound like yourself.”

“Dan, I’m sorry,” you murmur. He lets out a soft chuckle. “I wanted to wait until I got home, but I feel guilty doing that.”

“Hey, listen, I understand.”

“What?”

“I get it,” he repeats. “I know that it’s been a bitch for you to find a job. I’m just happy you found one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m assuming we’re going to break up?” he asks. “Long distance doesn’t sound appealing to me either.”

“Yeah, I think that would be best for both of us,” you state. He hums in agreement. You let out a long sigh. “Dan, I didn’t want to do it like this.”

“I know that,” he says. “It’s just the way some things come up. In the moment.”

“Why are you so good?”

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he starts. “I think we both knew we weren’t in it for the long run. Don’t get me wrong, I really like you. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, but you’ve never been in this for real. I know that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he presses. “We had fun, but it wasn’t meant to last. We were just trying to force it to work.” When you fail to answer him once more, Dan sighs and says, “Listen, let me know when you’re back. I’ll come by and pick up the stuff I left.”

“Okay, I’ll text you,” you respond. “Again, I’m sorry that I’m doing this over the phone.”

“It’s alright,” he states. “Text me when you want me to swing by. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Usually, you’d cry. You’d feel guilty for ending a relationship that never had any blow up. But, this break up feels like a weight off your shoulders. You lay down in the bed for a while, taking some time to yourself to just think, until Tyler calls for you to join him for dinner.

No more than two hours later, you’re sitting on one end of the sectional in Tyler’s living room watching Titanic. It’s been on for thirty minutes and you haven’t been paying attention one bit. Tyler’s sitting a few cushions away, his legs stretched out towards you so that his socked feet are inches from your thigh.

Dinner is long gone, empty cartons in the garbage, and the fire in the yard is out. Now, it’s just the two of you with Marshall curled up against Tyler and Cash sitting beside your feet.

“Why are you off right now?” Tyler asks, nudging your thigh with his foot. “Where’s your head at?”

“A million and one places,” you answer. Tyler grabs the remote and pauses the television. His abrupt movement alerts the dogs. He smirks at them, patting Marshall’s head to get him to put his head back down and turns his attention back to you.

“Explain.”

“I’ve just been thinking about what you said in the pool,” you elaborate. “About how this isn’t your real life, or mine.” Tyler sits up, but doesn’t say a word. He didn’t realize the statement would even resonate with you like it clearly has. “I just don’t want to go back to reality.”

“How come?”

“Reality means packing up my entire apartment, apartment hunting in California, starting a new job, being away from my family and my friends for a long time,” you list off. Tyler scratches the side of his head. “Besides, reality doesn’t have Marshall, or Cash, or you.”

You don’t hear it, but Tyler’s breath hitches in his throat.

“It’s not a big deal,” you continue. “Once I get back into the swing of things I’ll be fine.”

“You know you always have me around,” he states. “I might be a few states away, but I am always one call or text away.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is that all?”

You debate telling him about your phone call with Dan, but decide against it. Instead, you nod ‘yes’ before crawling down to his side of the couch and laying your head on his chest. Tyler shifts, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you close to him. Then, he grabs the remote and turns the movie back on.

You don’t start paying attention, but having your face in his chest keeps him from noticing. His fingers trace soothing patterns along your back and after a little while your eyes start fluttering shut. It doesn’t take long for your breathing to slow and you fall asleep against Tyler.

“YN,” he whispers not long after. “You fell asleep.”

“Hi,” you grumble. He chuckles as you lift your head with your hair matted to your cheek. “Morning.”

“Ready for bed?” he asks. You nod, crawling off his body to stand. He shuts the TV off and fixes the throw pillows that had been tossed to the side hours before. Before heading down the hall, he whistles for the dogs to follow him. They do, and so do you.

You walk a few steps behind him toward the guest room, but stop at the door as Tyler continues walking.

“Can we have a sleepover tonight?” you ask from the threshold of your room. Tyler spins on his heel. “It’s okay if not.”

“You can totally come sleepover,” he answers. “But does that mean I have to sleep with a shirt on tonight?”

You roll your eyes at him.

Tyler stays true to himself and remains shirtless for bed. When you walk into his room after brushing your teeth, he’s leaning up against the headboard and tinkering away with his phone. He glances up at you, taking in the sight of you in his baggy sweatshirt and your grey joggers. You look so cozy that it makes his heart beat a little bit faster.

“Mom says hi,” he says. You smile. “She wants to know why you haven’t visited her with me.”

“Tell Mom that I say hi,” you counter. “And that I am a stressed out post-grad who struggles to visit her own family and they live twenty minutes away.”

Tyler laughs, typing out exactly what you said, and sending it. But, he also texts her: Plus, she just got a big girl job in LA. Busy times for Ms. YLN… I’m excited for her.

Tyler locks his phone and places it down on the bed side table, then reaches for yours and does the same. You slide into bed beside him, leaving a good chunk of space between your bodies. The dogs take your entrance into bed their cue to join. They fill up the space between you and Tyler.

“How am I supposed to cuddle you now?” Tyler asks. His lips are in a pout. He sits up again and shoos Marshall and Cash down the bed to your feet, then reaches out to pull you in. You scooch over without protesting and drop your head to his bare chest. His hand falls into your hair, fingers brushing through the knots gathered at the nape of your neck.

“Thank you for having me here.”

“Thank you for coming.”

It’s almost been exactly three years since the last time you shared a bed. It’s amazing how time has changed so many things, but hasn’t changed how easy this feels.

Tyler’s phone buzzes twenty minutes later after you’ve already fallen asleep. He reaches over without moving too much to avoid disturbing you. There’s an unread text from his mom: She’s making her way closer to you, huh? That’s good.  

You wake up before Tyler the next morning. It seems like neither of you moved all night. Tyler’s still on his back, one arm around your body to keep you curled against him. It’s a struggle to leave the bed without waking him, but you manage to do it anyway.

You eat a bowl of cereal with Cash at your feet, then brew coffee to bring to Tyler in bed. The moment you walk in, the smell stirs his senses. He lifts his head, peaking an eye open to see you place the mug on his bed side table.

“I just ate some cereal,” you tell him. “I’m going to head out to the pool. Meet me out there?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles. He sits up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, and picks up the coffee as you head out of the room to change into your suit. Cash follows you the entire way, plopping himself on your bed as you throw on the one piece you’d brought in addition to the bikini, not wanting to waste your day worrying about your tattoo.

When you leave the room, with towel in hand, Cash trots over to follow you. You pass the kitchen on the way out and see Tyler standing at the stove. His back is to you, toned and strong and begging to be touched by you. Okay, maybe not, but your hands want to touch it badly. Tyler hears you as you tug the sliding door open and glances over with a fond smile at the way Cash is still following you around.

Outside, you lay your towel on the bit of grass a few feet from the pool and collapse onto it. The sun is bright and warm against your skin and Cash is soft against your legs.

Tyler joins you about fifteen minutes later in a bathing suit with a towel of his own. Instead of jumping right into the pool with Marshall, he comes over and lays his towel down next to you. He plops himself down, inches from your face and smiles widely at you.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Tyler situates himself to lay on his stomach, like you, and keeps his face turned toward yours. His eyes scan down your body, taking in the black bathing suit that cuts low on your back. He looks back up, not so subtly licking his lips, before saying, “I like this suit.”

Around lunch, Tyler’s been in the pool so long that his fingers are starting to prune. He pulls himself out long enough to make sandwiches for lunch. You follow him into the kitchen to help.

The two of you put together an assembly line of sorts with bread, cold cuts, cheeses, and condiments all laid out on the counter. Tyler starts, handing you a plate so you can create a sandwich beside him. You bump his hip with your own and he smiles down at you as he spreads mustard across his bread. He bumps you back with a little too much force, sending you stumbling to the right. Tyler barks out a laugh and grabs you by the waist to keep you upright, again with too much force.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you ask as you hit his chest with a thud. “You forget how much larger you are then me.”

Tyler looks down at you against his chest, takes one glance at how large his hand looks against your bare back, and grins. He leans his face a bit closer and states, “Trust me, I don’t forget.”

He releases you from his grip and continues down the line without another word. 

Jamie shows up around dinner time with steaks to grill up. He’s dressed in a button up and some khaki shorts with boat shoes, hair done. You’re still out back in your bathing suits when he arrives. You two didn’t even know he was on the way to the house, or that he arrived. He just walks out the back door and hollers at you, “What the hell are you two still doing out here? I’ve been calling you both for the past thirty minutes.”

A look of concern passes over Tyler’s face. He asks, “How’d you get in?”

“I still have your spare.”

“I need that back!” Tyler exclaims. “I’ve been looking for it forever.”

“It’s on the counter,” Jamie says. He holds up the steaks in his hand and smiles. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m starving,” you answer. You climb out of the pool, patting Cash on the head as you make your way up to the deck. You pass Jamie on the way into the house. “I saw some French fries in your freezer, so I’ll go make those.”

Tyler stays out at the grill with Jamie, despite how many times Jamie yells at him to, “Put a fucking shirt on, dude. I don’t need you breathing on me while you’re shirtless and wet!”

Cash and Marshall tangle themselves up at your feet while you cook, the promise of French fries far too good for them to pass up. And, yes, you do give them one or two, even though Tyler keeps fat shaming Cash.

You toss Cash a fry and smile when he hops up to catch it. Crouching down to pat him on the head, you say, “You’re beautiful. Don’t let Daddy tell you otherwise.”

“Daddy, huh?” Tyler’s voice makes you jump. You assumed he was still at the grill because you never even heard the sliding glass door open. There’s a shit eating grin on his face as he leans up against the counter, arms crossed, and stares at you. “I never thought I’d get the chance to hear you call me that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur. You stand upright, rolling your eyes at that smirk on his face before turning back to finish dumping the fries in a bowl. Tyler steps over to you and reaches up to the cabinet above your head. His hand drops to your back, right above the place where your suit starts, just above your ass.

He’s so close you can smell the chlorine on his skin, you can feel the body heat coming off him and his freshly tanned skin. He grabs a serving plate and pulls it down, tapping your head lightly with it on the way down. Then, his hand falls away and he’s walking back out of the room.

After dinner, Tyler and Jamie run out to grab alcohol for the night. People aren’t planning to come until 10 p.m., so you have a lot of time to relax and get ready. As soon as the boys leave to run their last-minute errands, you hop in the shower and admire the fresh tan you’ve acquired over the past two days on the way out.

For the next thirty minutes, you stare at the mass of clothes piled onto the guest bed. You hadn’t realized how much you packed for this trip until this moment. You look through them, pulling out a pair of funky light wash jeans and a few cropped tops. You shove the rest of the clothes back into your suitcase with no plans to fold them. That’ll be a Boston issue.

You put the pants on and stand in the mirror to check your butt out. Then, you rotate each shirt to see which one you like the best. You’ve grown slightly obsessed with your new tattoo, so you find yourself gravitating to the shirts that will show it off. That’s why you end up settling on a long sleeve, black shirt that stops just a few inches below your boobs.

You sit on the floor in front of the floor length mirror in the guest room and put your make-up on, cursing the low lighting the entire time. You don’t spend too much time on it tonight, just highlighter, mascara, a light eye shadow, and some lip gloss.

The boys come home and you can hear Tyler’s shower starting, followed by his awful shower singing voice.

You stand and check yourself out in the mirror once more. Your tattoo is completely visible and looks beautiful. You trace a finger along the lines with a satisfied smile.

You find Jamie out in the living room. He’s watching a baseball game on mute and turns when he hears your bare feet against the hardwood floor. He checks your outfit out and lets out a low whistle before complimenting, “You look good, dude.”

“Why, thank you!”

“And that tattoo!” he exclaims once he sees it. He stands up and walks around the couch, crouching a little once he gets closer to you to take a better look. “Seguin did good.”

“I agree.”

“Are you bummed you’re leaving tomorrow?” Jamie asks as he steps back and sits on the arm of the sofa, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you admit. “But, I think it’s good. I was getting way too comfortable here.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“This isn’t where my life is,” you answer. “It’s just a vacation that feels really, really normal.”

“You should just move here.”

“I can’t spend my whole life following Tyler around.”

“Why not?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Quite frankly, it’s a good question, but you ignore it regardless and retreat to the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

Tyler suggested making a jungle juice type of punch for the party and, sure enough, he followed through with the alcohol and the fruits to make it. He pulled out a punch bowl for you, too, so you start making it to the sounds of the now unmuted Rangers game.

When Tyler finally comes out of his room, he’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that make you a little light headed. He doesn’t look in your direction at first, the Rangers game capturing his attention the moment he steps into the room.

“Good game?” he asks. He sits beside Jamie and pulls his shoes on, then leans forward to continue watching. There’s another few seconds of silence. “Where’s YN?”

“Right here, dumbass,” you call out. Tyler looks over at you. You’re still not facing him, having only glanced over at him to see him enter the room. He hops off the couch and sidles up beside you, one arm wrapping around your shoulder to watch you stir some liquor into the bowl. His cologne floats to your nose. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you,” he says. He plants a kiss to your right temple and then drops his arm to grab beer from the fridge. He places one beside you, passing you on the way over to Jamie with a soft touch to your hip.

He can’t stop looking over at you. One second he’s completely zoned into the game and the next he’s turning his head to look at you again. Jamie catches on almost immediately and attempts to ignore it. But, after the fifth time Tyler glances over, Jamie smacks a pillow into Tyler’s chest and knocks the wind out of his lungs.

“What the fuck?” Tyler yelps. He yanks the pillow from Jamie and smacks him back.

“Ladies!” you exclaim. They look up at you with boyish smirks. “At least take your clothes off before having a pillow fight.”

“Don’t objectify me,” Tyler warns. Jamie snickers, mumbling under his breath, “You’d love it if she objectified you.”

Before either you or Tyler can respond, the doorbell is ringing and Cash and Marshall are running to it. Thus, the wave of partygoers makes their way into the house. You don’t know a single person in the crowd other than Jamie and Tyler, but everyone seems nice enough. There are a few guys, teammates you assume, that make a point to introduce themselves.

“Tyler always talks about you,” one of them, who you’re almost certain is named John, notes. “Sometimes it feels like the best thing that happened to him in Boston wasn’t the Stanley Cup, it was you.”

That’s not the only comment like that, but you try not to dwell on the others longer than necessary. These aren’t feelings you want to feel right now, not when your flight is a mere 18 hours away.

It doesn’t take long for the house to fill up and you soon find that it’s packed from wall to wall. The influx of guests has separated you from the two boys you feel most comfortable with and you’re desperate to find at least one of them. People are out by the pool, crowded around a folding table in the living room, sitting around the island in the kitchen. Everywhere you go you find people, but you can’t find the party host.

“Hey,” Jamie calls out to you. He’s sitting on the counter, a girl you’ve never met before between his legs. “You look lost.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

“Out back, maybe?” Jamie answers. He grits his teeth in a silent apology. “Do you want me to come look for him with you?”

“No,” you state after noticing his arm snake around the girl’s waist. You smile at them. “I’ll find him.”

You step out to the yard and find Tyler sitting at the table by the pool with a group of guys that had come in with your new friend, John. One of them taps his arm and nods up to you. Tyler looks over and a grin spreads across his face. He motions for you to come over to him and scoots his chair back from the table as you approach.

“Where’ve you been?”

You step up to the table, lean against the back of Tyler’s chair, and answer with a laugh, “Looking for you.”

“Everyone, this is YN.”

“Oh, we know,” one of the guys speaks up. He stands and announces that he’s off to get another drink, earning a murmur of agreement amongst the other men who get up to follow him. “Nice meeting you, YN. See you two inside.”

Once they’re on the way to the house, Tyler reaches up and tugs on your hand. You let him guide you to stand in front of him. You situate yourself between his knees, reaching up to cup both of his cheeks in your hands. He leans into your palm, staring up at you with his puppy dog eyes, and says, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you retort. He reaches up and grips your hips, pulling you into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, melting into the way one of his hands slides up your thigh and the other settles against your lower back. “When you said you were throwing a party, I didn’t expect this.”

“Too much?”

“No,” you answer. “I just didn’t think you had so many friends.” Tyler throws his head back in laughter and you smile at the reaction adoringly. You run one of your hands through his hair and tell him, “I like John.”

“Klingberg?”

“Yeah, he’s nice,” you state. Tyler chuckles softly. “Told me that people wouldn’t even know you won the Stanley Cup in Boston because all you talk about is me.”

“He said that?” Tyler asks, jaw slightly ajar. You nod. He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a loud groan. “Why would he say that? They love chirping me.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very flattered,” you tell him. “I like to think that my friendship is a little more valuable to you than a large, silver trophy that too many mouths have touched.”

“I mean,” he murmurs. “Both are pretty fucking great.” Tyler leans back and stares at you as you watch the dogs chase each other in the grass. His fingers trail up and down your forearm, giving you goosebumps that he notices right away. “When am I going to see you again?”

You look back at him, tilting your head as you think about the answer. You state, “I’m not really sure.”

“I hate that answer.”

“Well, I need to get settled in Cali,” you answer. His eyes study your face as you talk, falling to your lips more than any other feature. “And you’re going to Canada after I leave to have some family time. Then, you’re going to be back here for the season.”

“And I have a feeling my California road trip isn’t until like halfway through the season,” he grunts. “Maybe I can come around the holidays? Or you can visit for Thanksgiving or something?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise. He nods. “We always do.”

Tyler squeezes your thigh lightly and, in response, you pinch the skin at the nape of his neck playfully. It feels so peaceful out in the backyard that it’s easy to forget the party inside. Once again, you’re wrapped up in your own little world with him. He runs his fingers along the back of your top, then down your spine. He looks down at your outfit again and then looks up at your eyes with a smile and says, “You look really good.”

“Tyler!” a shrill voice calls from the deck. Tyler almost winces when it shatters the moment between the two of you. “Come inside! We’re playing Thunderstruck!”

“Coming!” he responds before dropping his head against your shoulder again with a sigh. The hand that has been resting on your lower back trails up to the nape of your neck, scratching the back of your head lightly before dropping again. He taps your thigh to get you to stand and then takes your hand in his on the way back up to the house.

Thunderstruck did its job and, after it was over, everyone was on their way to lowered inhibitions and stupidity. Soon after, Tyler and Jamie were ripping shots with their teammates. They even managed to talk you into a few. Tyler’s fingers lingered a little too long on your back at the top of your jeans, but he never made it known that he knew what he was doing. He’s just drunk, touchy Tyler.

More people show up, this time a group of girls dressed like they’re going to a club. They’re beautiful and flock over to the boys as soon as they enter. They embrace all the guys like they’re old friends. It feels odd to be looking in at a moment like this. It’s a look at Tyler’s real life, the people he spends most of his time with nowadays.

Tyler gives a quick introduction to the girls for you and they’re friendly enough, but you can tell they’re wondering who you are and why you’re here. Then, one of them wraps her hand around Tyler’s elbow and tugs him away. He sends you a quick glance before going with her willingly to the corner of the kitchen.

“That’s Kelsie,” Jamie informs you. “They sleep together, occasionally.”

“I think I could’ve figured that out on my own,” you grunt. Jamie chuckles. “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, but she’s kind of a bitch,” he murmurs. You smack him on the stomach. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

You take one last fleeting glance at the two of them in the corner. Tyler’s hand rests against the counter beside her hip and they’re both leaning into each other, smiling as they talk about whatever it is they could possibly be talking about. She giggles, tapping his arm lightly.

“Do you want to play beer pong?” you ask Jamie. He nods with a knowing smile and leads you out to the living room.

You’re bad at beer pong. It’s a known fact. Yet, Jamie carries the team enough for you to run the table for three or four games. Each time you finish a drink, John Klingberg goes to grab another for you. You’re steady on your feet, but you know that you’re drunker than you feel. Eventually, you and Jamie lose the spot at the table when two of his teammates beat you.

Jamie gives you a tight squeeze after you shake hands with the boys on the other end for playing a good game. Then, you step to the side and watch.

Tyler’s in the room now, but he’s sitting at the recliner on the other side. Kelsie’s still with him, sitting on the couch closest to the chair. He’s telling some elaborate story, you can tell by the way his hands are moving as he speak, and she’s giggling along with him. It makes you a little sick, sort of mad, but what are you going to do?

You think back to Dan and how easy it was to just break up with him because you knew Tyler was in the other room. Every relationship you’ve had since that kiss has meant nothing to you. You’ve been trying to date all these guys just to feel something and, yet, it hasn’t happened.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask Jamie. Your words come out a little slurred and you make a mental note to mix in a water after you have this conversation with Jamie. He furrows his eyebrows in response and nods. “I broke up with Dan yesterday.”

“What?” he asks. His eyebrows shoot up at your admission, but he leans in to have you repeat it because he’s almost certain there’s no way you just said what you said to him.

“I broke up with Dan,” you repeat. Jamie’s hands shoot out to grab you by the hips and shake you. You slap his chest lightly.

“Have you told Tyler?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I didn’t want the rest of my trip to be all about the break up,” you tell him. Jamie rolls his eyes so dramatically that you’re convinced if you hit him in the back of the head they could get stuck like that.

“If you think for a second that Tyler would want to spend another minute talking about Dan, you’re out of your mind,” Jamie states. It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“It’s so stupid,” you murmur. “I’m not telling him now. He’s with that girl.”

“He’s with that girl because he thinks you’re still with Dan.”

“Stop,” you grumble. Jamie grabs your hand and yanks you down the hallway to the guest room. He pushes you in and shuts the door behind him. “Why are we in here?”

“Because I need to talk some sense into your drunk ass.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“He’s in love with you,” Jamie declares. “The kid’s been in love with you for years and I think you’ve been in love with him just the same. This is the chance to figure it out.”

“I’m moving to California.”

“So?”

“I’m not doing long-distance,” you state. Jamie run a hand through his hair, face red in frustration.

“You two already do long-distance,” he argues. You shake your head. He’s right and you know it. You literally said it to Tyler the other day as a joke. “I have spent the last three years listening to him pine after you. Every single girl he’s ever been with, even if it’s only for a night, is compared to you. I’ve been a third wheel for far too long just to make sure that he doesn’t fuck up the way that he did on the Fourth of July in 2013.”

“He didn’t fuck up.”

“Well, he’s spent the better part of three years thinking that kissing you was a mistake,” Jamie says. “You’ve never talked about it with him and, although I can see the way you look at him, Tyler is way too dense to see how crazy you are about him.” He takes a breath and then says, “If nothing else, at least tell him it wasn’t a mistake. Tell him that there are feelings there for him, however small they may be. He deserves to know that it’s not a lost cause.”

You stare at Jamie, dumbfounded. He stares back, waiting for a response. After a minute of silence, you sigh and tell him, “It’s bad timing, Jamie. Tyler deserves someone to come home to and that’s not going to happen with me now, maybe not ever. Our timing has never been right, and it’s not right now. I don’t want to jump the gun and try to make this happen when I know I can’t put my all into it like I would want to.”

Jamie huffs, tossing his head back like a frustrated toddler. A groan escapes his lips just before he returns his attention to you. He shakes his head and says, “Fine. If you’re not going to talk about your feelings for him to him, then at least tell him you broke up with Dan. He is your best friend after all.”

Before you can respond, he turns to the door and reaches out for the handle. He looks back once more, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:30 p.m.

“You have until midnight,” he says. “And if you don’t tell him by then, I’m taking it into my hands.”

You’re way too drunk, wayyyy too drunk. You’ve lost Tyler again, as well as Jamie, so you’re in the kitchen with a glass of water hoping that it’ll sober you up enough to get through the night. You’re having a stare down with the clock on Tyler’s stove. It’s five minutes from midnight and there’s no shot you’re finding him before Jamie breaks the news.

Tyler is sitting out back in a lounge chair on the deck with Kelsie by his feet. She’s rubbing her hand against his shins, listening to Tyler’s conversation with a friend. Tyler checks his phone, wondering where you’ve been and why you haven’t come looking for him. He glances over at Kelsie with an uneasy sigh.

Moments later, the door slides open and Jamie’s on the other side. He lets out a breath when he sees Tyler. Tyler looks up at him and sits up straight, swinging his feet off the lounge chair and away from Kelsie’s hand.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jamie says as he steps out onto the deck. “Have you talked to YN?”

“No,” Tyler answers. He gets to his feet immediately, feeling a panic set in. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

“She broke up with Dan yesterday,” Jamie tells him. Tyler’s eyes widen. “She just told me.”

Tyler brushes past Jamie and storms into the house to look for you. No sign of you in the living room or down the hallway to his room, so he continues into the kitchen and finds you talking to John. Tyler approaches, grabbing your wrist to pull you away from his teammate without an apology. You stumble forward into his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, bringing his lips to your ear to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide, and he returns the same gaze. His hold so many questions. You sigh, running a hand up his chest to his shoulder to push away from him lightly.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I just don’t understand why you told Jamie, but not me.”

“Later.”

Tyler’s shoulders drop and he releases you from his arms. He takes one last look at you. His face is riddled with anger, frustration, hope. He’s never felt like this before, like he has no control over a situation. And this situation, with you, is one he’s never been able to control.

Fortunately for impatient Tyler, people start clearing out about half an hour after he confronts you. He’s been doing his best to steer clear of you because, honestly, he didn’t think he could talk to you without bringing the conversation up again.

Jamie and the boys are the last to leave. They step out onto the porch with Tyler as they walk out to their Ubers, but Jamie stays a moment longer. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

“I’m sorry I had to tell him,” he mumbles into your hair. “I needed him to know.”

“It’s okay,” you state. “Hey, maybe I’ll be thanking you.”

“Maybe,” Jamie repeats. He steps back, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Good luck on the move and the new job. I’m excited to see the place whenever we come visit.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you will,” he says with a nod. He plants a kiss on your forehead, gives your hand one last squeeze, and then steps out to the porch, passing Tyler on the way. They exchange a quick goodbye, saying something about seeing each other tomorrow, and then Tyler steps inside and closes the door.

After he locks it, Tyler turns around and looks at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He throws his arms up in defeat and then laces a hand through his hair. You cross your arms against your chest and bite your lip before blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

“When did you break up with him?”

“Before dinner yesterday,” you answer. “He called and everything just came out. About my job, about my move, everything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want the last 48 hours of my trip to revolve around it.”

“Never in a million years would it revolve around that,” Tyler states. “I have never wanted to talk about your relationships or your boyfriends. I don’t like to hear about that part of your life.”

“Should we clean up?” Tyler’s jaw drops at the question. He just sort of admitted to his feelings that are still very much there and you ask to clean up? “We need to clean up because we’re not going to bed with the house looking like this. I’ll answer all your questions. We will talk. But, first, I need to clean some of this mess.”

“You drive me crazy,” he mumbles. He walks past you into the kitchen and mumbles as he grabs some cleaning supplies, “In more ways than one.”

Tyler takes the living room, you take the kitchen, and you work in complete silence. You take a bit longer than him, scrubbing the surfaces of his counter to get the stickiness off it. He steps into the kitchen and watches you for a moment before asking, “Need help?”

“I’m almost done,” you answer. You wipe a few more times as he approaches. He sits down at one of the stools and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I just threw stuff in a garbage bag.”

You hum in response, wiping a towel across the counter to dry it. Then, you take a step back to look at the entire counter. It’s completely cleared and washed down. Tyler stands, trailing a finger across the surface with a smile.

“All clean,” he notes. “Can we talk now?”

“Can we brush our teeth first?” you ask. He rolls his eyes. “Please.”

You’re stalling. He knows it. But, he also doesn’t mind.

You follow him into his bedroom where you left you pajamas earlier in the day. Tyler pulls his clothing off shamelessly on the other side of the room and slips on a pair of sweatpants before leaving to brush his teeth. You change as soon as he leaves the room, back into his t-shirt and your sweats.

You enter the bathroom where Tyler is standing in the mirror with his toothbrush in his mouth. He hands your toothbrush over to you with the tube of toothpaste and smiles. He spits moments after you start brushing and washes his mouth out with some water. Instead of leaving the room, he sits against the counter and waits for you to finish.

You spit a minute later, washing your mouth like he just had. You wipe the corners of your mouth with a paper towel, then look over at him. The frustration and confusion displayed in his eyes from before has melted away to the look you always get from him. Adoration.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach over to take your hand or pull you into a hug. He stays complete still, his eyes the only part of him that is moving and, even then, they stay on your face. So, you move. You step forward, between his legs, and drop your head to his shoulder. His hands slide up your sides and around your back, pulling you into his chest.

Another few minutes are spent like that until one of Tyler’s hands moves to your chin. He picks your head up and his lips part with a sigh. He leans in, the side of his nose bumping with yours, and then he closes the gap with his lips.

It’s the same type of kiss as the one from 2013, but this time when he pulls away neither of you stop another kiss from happening. His lips ghost over yours before he leans back in again. Your fingers find the curls at the nape of his neck and stay there, playing with the loose strands as you wait for the next kiss.

The second one is more passionate and Tyler can’t get you close enough. His hand wraps around the nape of you neck, the other keeping you steady at your lower back. Tyler swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and your lips part in response.

Tyler’s arms wrap completely around your waist. He pushes off the counter, keeping you close to him and lifts you off the ground. You wrap your legs around him with your hands laced in his hair, gripping at the roots. He carries you to his room and shoos the dogs off the bed before placing you down on the mattress.

He’s hovering over you moments later and your hands have a mind of their own, traveling over his shoulders and his biceps, back to his cheeks. He pulls his lips away from yours long enough to kiss your jaw and your neck. His hands trail beneath your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your stomach.

There’s no thinking involved, just his mind on overdrive. He inches down your body and presses his lips against your stomach, kissing to the waistband of your joggers and earning a gasp from your lips. He smiles against your skin.

Your fingers lace through his hair as he ghosts his lips over your skin. He brings his lips to your ribs and kisses the tattoo. Then, he comes back up to kiss your lips again. He knows he needs to slow it down, but he doesn’t want to.

After a few more kisses, he drops to your side, nestling his face in your neck after placing one last lingering kiss against your skin. He sighs, “This wasn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I kissed you,” he says. “It’s on me.”

“It’s okay,” you say again. There’s a heavy silence that settles between the two of you. Tyler presses a kiss against your throat and then lifts his head to support it in his hand. You look at him as you play with his hair, admiring his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that.”

“That’s the only way you should ever be kissed,” Tyler states. He leans down and kisses you again, short and sweet. He’s trying to keep himself from letting this get too far. He drops his head into your neck again and asks, “Can you feel my heartbeat? It’s pounding.”

“Mine too,” you respond. You reach up and run a hand over your face. “God, this is so stupid.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, lifting his head to get a better look at you.

“Our timing is such shit,” you elaborate. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know that,” Tyler says. “But that doesn’t matter. Right?” You don’t respond, but he sees the look on your face and knows immediately where this conversation is going. He knows you too well to not realize he’s about to be shot down by the only girl he’s ever loved like this. He shakes his head and says, “You know what? Don’t answer that. We can have that conversation tomorrow. Just let me have this for one night.”

Tyler lifts your hand to his lips and flips it to place a kiss on the stars on your skin. 

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin story #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #hockey imagine

[kom-wanheda]

What a Catch

Evan Buckley Week

March 26th - Day 4: “You want to marry me?” + love

Maddie’s looking at him with a strange expression, almost secretive, almost… guilty? Chimney is standing off to the side, hands shoved so far into his pockets that he’s about to lose his elbows in there.

Buck straightens. “Maddie? What’s going on?”

“I found… something I probably wasn’t supposed to see,” Maddie winces out.

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

“Hey, Buck, can you give me and Chim a hand in here?”

Buck looks up from the poker game he’s playing with Bobby, Athena, Hen, and Eddie towards the kitchen doorway. Maddie and Chimney had mysteriously disappeared there almost thirty minutes ago.

“Uh, Mads, I’m kind of in the middle of something!” he yells, concentrating on his cards, eyeing up his opponents playfully. The center of the table is a mess of poker chips and actual chips from when Buck got a little too… enthusiastic. Buck makes a note to clean that up later.

“We all know you’re not going to win, so just save us all the theatrics and come here, will you?” Maddie calls back.

Everyone at the table laughs at Buck, who manages to look affronted for a few seconds before he deflates and throws his cards face-up on the table. It was a shitty hand, he has to admit. “Fine, maybe, but they didn’t know I was going to lose!”

Hen scoffs, knocking elbows with Athena, who is smirking over her cards at him. Hen looks back towards Buck when she says, “Buck, I’m sorry to say, but your strategy sucks.”

“Okay, rude, I hate you all,” Buck huffs out, standing from the table dramatically. That gets a good chuckle out of everyone, even Eddie, the traitor. Buck can’t help but grin, losing any believability he had for actually being upset.

As Buck passes Eddie, he reaches out and squeezes Buck’s hand, a silent acknowledgment. It’s just a quick squeeze of hi yes hello, but it sends a thrill up Buck’s spine, anyways. Buck’s smile turns a bit dopey.

He passes by where the kids are stationed around the sofa. Albert’s got every single one of them entranced in a story about South Korea, including May, whose attention has strayed from her phone for so long the screen’s gone black. Karen abandoned poker a long time ago, and she’s sitting next to Denny, stroking her hand across his back, baby Nia nestled securely in her lap.

Buck leans down to give Chris a quick kiss to his head, and while Chris doesn’t look away from Albert’s gesticulating hands, he does reach up and touch Buck’s cheek gently. Buck’s heart melts a little more, like it does every single time Chris does something so obliviously sweet.

As Buck gets to the kitchen, he grabs onto the door frame and swings into the room, eyeing up his sister. “My dearest Maddie, what is it you needed my help with that could not have possibly waited until I lost fair and square?”

Maddie’s looking at him with a strange expression, almost secretive, almost… guilty? Chimney is standing off to the side, hands shoved so far into his pockets that he’s about to lose his elbows in there.

Buck straightens. “Maddie? What’s going on?”

“I found… something I probably wasn’t supposed to see,” Maddie winces out.

“Found something? What do you mean?”

Maddie’s words start coming out in a rush. “We were just cleaning up after dinner, and your bag was sitting on the counter, so I went to move it and then it fell off the table and some stuff rolled out.” Maddie wrings her hands together before gesturing to the island in front of her. Where a small, dark purple jewelry box is sitting.

A very familiar jewelry box.

Buck springs forward, snatching it up. “Maddie,” Buck hisses, “you went through my stuff?”

“I didn’t mean to! It just fell out with all your dirty clothes when I picked your bag up!”

“The box was in a sealed pocket, Maddie, there’s no way it could have just ‘fallen out’! You were snooping!”

“I was not! I’m not twelve,” Maddie says indignantly, “Also, how was I supposed to know that you were hiding an engagement ring in your work bag?”

“Shh!” Buck says, frantically waving his hands at her. “Keep your voice down!”

Maddie covers her mouth, perhaps just now realizing that the hopeful recipient of said ring is just in the other room.

Buck glances down at the box in his hands, runs his fingers over the familiar velvety soft exterior before clicking it open, just to check. He must have done that a thousand times already since he picked it up that morning on his way in to work. Both rings are still nestled there safely. He catches the pair watching him, and he snaps it closed, hiding the box behind his back, as if Maddie and Chimney — who has remained questionably silent this entire time — have no object permanence, and once hidden, the knowledge of the box’s existence would be gone as well.

Maddie switches gears, eyes going all soft. “Buck, how long have you been carrying that around with you?”

“I just picked it up today, that’s the only reason why it was in my bag to begin with. I bought it a few weeks ago,” Buck mumbles.

Finally, Chimney seems to get his voice back. “I know you guys have been dating for a while, but you really think it’s time?”

“Remind me, Chim, how many months was it again before you asked my sister to marry you?” Buck retorts, raising an eyebrow.

Chimney laughs, right hand ghosting over to touch the metal band around his ring finger. Buck isn’t actually upset, of course he can’t be, not when Maddie and Chimney are so obviously perfect for one another.

Maddie wraps her arm around her husband, smiling softly down at the ring on her own finger. It makes Buck happy to see his sister and friend happy, but he can’t deny how desperately he wants a taste of that, too.

“It’s only been about a year since we started dating, but I know it’s what I want. I’m pretty sure it’s what Eddie wants, too. But god, Maddie, I’m so nervous. The last thing I want to do is move too quickly, especially since all of this is totally new territory for me. I’ve never been married before, but Eddie has, you know? I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to replace Shannon, especially when it comes to Chris.” Buck says more than he planned to, but now that both of them know, he needed to talk to someone. It’s not like he could confide in his best friend for advice, since it’s his best friend he’s going to pop the question to.

“Well, I don’t have much advice for you there,” Chimney says, “We were just doing the dishes one night after dinner and it just kind of… popped out.”

“Yeah, I know.” Buck rolls his eyes. “The least romantic engagement story I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey!” Maddie laughs, gazing up at Chimney with obvious love in her eyes. “It worked on me, didn’t it?”

Buck shakes his head, turning his attention back to the box cradled in his hands. “I just love them both so much, you know? I love our life together. I just want to make sure all three of us are ready, and when the time is right, hopefully I’ll know what to say.”

It’s then, when all three of the kitchen’s occupants are either distracted by each other or distracted by what ifs, when Buck hears a choked sound coming from behind him.

All three of them turn quickly, and Eddie is right there, a collection of empty beer bottles in his hands. “I, uh, was just coming in here to recycle these,” Eddie explains haltingly. He thrusts the bottles forward, as if to prove his story. “I swear I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”

Buck is a little dumbfounded. As soon as he turned around, he had shoved the ring box into his front pocket, and it’s a tight fit and so obvious he almost wants to cover it up with his hands. As if that would help.

“Why don’t we grab those bottles from you and take the other trash outside, huh, Maddie?” Chimney says quickly, moving forward and collecting the bottles from Eddie’s lax hands.

“Sure, sounds like a two person job, definitely,” Maddie rambles a bit. She pats Buck on the head as she scurries out the kitchen door with Chimney, and despite her having to stretch to even reach his head, it still feels a bit condescending. But mostly comforting.

Good luck, Buck.

He’s left face to face with his boyfriend. Maybe more, his brain unhelpfully supplies.

“Hey, babe,” Buck stutters, a nervous smile on his lips, “How much of that did you hear?”

Eddie takes a step closer, and it’s so easy for Buck to fall into Eddie’s orbit, to lean into his embrace. “Enough, I think. You want to marry me?” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes not traveling any higher than Buck’s neck. They’re so close now that they could bump noses if one of them tilts their head right, so Buck does, trying to get Eddie to look at him. Ah. There they are, those warm brown eyes Buck loves so much. Eddie still looks hesitant, uncertain, and that hurts Buck a little.

“Eddie, of course I do. You are my most favorite part of every day. Chris, too,” Buck adds, leaning down to maintain eye-contact as Eddie tries to duck away. “I know we haven’t talked about it in so many words, but… in theory,” Buck stresses, and Eddie laughs a little, “would you want to do… that, one day?” Fuck, he needs to practice saying those words if he’s stumbling this hard right now and it’s not even real.

Eddie can’t fight the hesitant smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he whispers, and hearing that combination of words jumpstarts Buck’s heart.

“Good, because that’s going to happen one day. Not tonight, I haven’t even gotten the rings engraved yet,” Buck complains, “but someday. We’re going to get married, I’m going to move in, and then we get to plan the rest of our lives together.” It all sounds like a dream, a dream Buck never would have known he wanted just a few years ago, but god, he does want it, and he wants it with this man standing in front of him. Buck can’t help it: he leans in and presses his mouth to Eddie’s, gently biting on his lower lip before pulling a hair's breadth away to speak. “How’s that sound?”

Eddie’s never been good with verbally expressing himself, and Buck knows he’s been trying. He can see the thoughts as they race across his face, can almost read the words desperately trying to get out, but they never quite make it to his mouth. That’s okay, Buck doesn’t mind. As soon as Buck gets those rings on both their fingers, they’ll have the rest of their lives to work on it. Together.

“Sounds like something I could get used to,” Eddie finally settles on, pulling Buck’s face back to his, stealing another kiss. Buck presses closer, feels the jewelry box cut into his hip as Eddie pushes into him. Buck opens his mouth to bite Eddie’s lip again, but that’s when Eddie pulls away.

Buck makes a face and Eddie laughs at him, his hands ghosting up from where he was cradling Buck’s neck to his cheek, thumb brushing gently along the end of Buck’s eyebrow.

“I don’t really want to get too out of hand at your sister’s house. Especially not with all of our friends in the other room,” Eddie explains.

Oh, Buck gets it, but he still pouts a little.

“Come on, cariño, I want to watch you lose at poker again,” Eddie gently jabs, smile never leaving his face.

Buck allows himself to be pulled back into the living area, and it appears the rest of the world kept on spinning as Buck’s spun into a new orbit. Buck and Eddie are quickly welcomed back into the casual joviality of the group. Buck catches Maddie peering around the corner spying on them, and he sticks his tongue out at her. You know, like an adult. She smiles gleefully back.

“Can’t we just play go fish or something?” Buck whines, tugging on Eddie’s hand.

“Why, you wanna lose at a child’s game, too?”

Laughter erupts as everyone apparently catches that. Buck can’t even pretend to be mad, the presence of that box in his pocket making him feel damn near weightless.

#evanweek2020 #ew2020 #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 #911 fox #911 fic #my writing #maddie buckley #chimney han #howie han #madney #henrietta wilson #hen wilson #karen wilson #henren #christopher diaz #athena grant #bobby nash #albert han #this kinda sucks #oh well

[wingedquill]

over the mossy roots

@geraltwhumpweek

TITLE: over the mossy roots

SHIP: Gen

PROMPT DAY: Day 1: Ostracism

  MEDIUM (Netflix, Books, Games, Hexer): Netflix

WARNINGS: Child abuse (of the magical mind manipulation variety), Hurt/No Comfort, Unhappy Ending

SUMMARY: Ciri has been running too hard for too long. When Visenna stumbles across her in the woods, it's no wonder her mind welcomes in the warm, comforting feeling of her magic. It's no wonder she bends to her suggestions, becomes the perfect daughter Visenna has dreamed of since she was forced to get rid of her last child. And, when Geralt finds them, it's no wonder he's horrified.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is the second part to a lil series I’m working on where Geralt has inherited some of his mother’s druid magic. You can find the whole series on AO3 here

Ciri is so tired of being wary. Of looking at every stranger like they wish to rip her heart out.

It’s a necessity to keep her alive, she knows that. If even the familiar is dangerous—she still dreams of Mousesack twisting into a monster—then the unfamiliar is even more so. The Nilfgaardians wouldn’t even need to disguise themselves, they could just send a soldier to pose as one of the dozens of well-meaning women that have tried to adopt her.

And yet, part of her—a very large part of her—is begging the rest of her to just take the offer. To let herself be someone’s daughter again, to live in a simple, warm house, and take whatever name her new mother might want to give. To stop running, to stop looking for a man she suspects doesn’t want her. To be safe.

Right now, she’s huddled in her makeshift camp in the forest, shivering as the wind skitters across her back on icy feet. Her fingers are growing numb, but she can’t risk a fire—not so close to the nearest town. So she keeps them clenched into fists in Dara’s gloves, tucked under her armpits. Hopefully that’ll be enough to stave off frostbite.

Something growls.

She snaps her head up, staring intently into the undergrowth. Four pairs of yellow eyes stare back at her.

Shit.

She should have built that fire after all.

She stumbles to her feet and takes one step backward, then another, not breaking eye contact with the wolves. She fears that, if she does, they will take the opportunity to attack.

Breathe. Stay calm. Don’t let them smell your fear.

Sweat pricks at the back of her neck as, pools in her gloves. One of the wolves slinks forward, slipping from the undergrowth, followed by his fellows. He’s a monstrous thing, gray fur stuck through with twigs and burrs, the fur around his mouth already matted with blood. He’s just eaten then, but he’s clearly still hungry, drool dripping out of his mouth as he stalks towards Ciri.

He snarls and Ciri trips over a tree root, jolting her wrists as she tries to catch herself on the muddy, mossy earth. The wolf seems oddly satisfied as it moves towards her, like it can taste her panic in the air. Easy prey.

She reaches inside her, tugging at the part of her soul that tore a rift in the Earth, that fell the boys that tried to hurt her, but it feels stifled, buried deep beneath something else. Something stronger.

“That’s enough, dearies,” a voice says. It’s a woman’s voice, clear and calm, and that something else shifts over Ciri, rolling across her mind like a warm wave. Her limbs feel heavy, fuzzy with sleep, the aches of five months on the run sliding away from her as easily as a shed coat.

The woman moves forward, into Ciri’s line of sight. She walks through the forest as if it’s her court, and it bends to her like a loyal subject. Roots moving away from her feet, clearing the path between her and the wolves. The wolves that are no longer, snarling, bloodthirsty beasts, but docile puppies, whining and wagging their tails as she kneels down before them.

She’s never seen this kind of magic before. Nature magic, yes, from the women of Brokilon, from Mousesack. But never something this warm and weighty.

“Hush now,” the woman says, stroking the lead wolf’s nose. “Hush.”

The wolf goes to the ground, closing his eyes with a huff as sleep rushes over him. His pack follows suit, and soon, the woman is surrounded by snoring wolves.

The woman turns her head over her shoulder, locking eyes with Ciri.

“They’ll sleep for a while,” she says. “Would you like to pet one?”

The warmth slips through and around her brain, enveloping her in a feeling of safety so full and complete that she thinks she’ll cry. She doesn’t trust herself to speak so she just nods, slipping forward to crouch down next to the lead wolf, the one with the bloody muzzle.

She wonders if he ate some other little girl without a druid to protect her.

“These ones aren’t scared of people,” the woman murmurs as Ciri rests her hand on the wolf’s head. It’s softer than she imagined it would be. “They see them as prey.”

Ciri knows what happens to wild animals that aren’t scared of people.

“Are you going to kill them?” she asks.

“Oh no. It’s not their fault they’re hungry. Not their fault they were born with the taste for blood.” She keeps stroking the wolf’s head. A glow forms at her fingertips, the sickly yellow of half-rotted flowers.

“This will keep both them and the humans safe,” she explains as the glow covers the wolf from nose to lazily-flopping tail. Ciri feels like she’s being lectured by one of her tutors. “It’ll cause them pain to be within fifty feet of a person. They’ll turn and run when they feel the pain, and while it might hurt them a bit, it’ll cause less death and suffering overall. Does that make sense?”

Ciri nods.

“Good,” the woman says. She moves her hand to the next wolf. “I’ll teach you how to do this someday. You should be able to. I can sense your power. It is strong, but misguided at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” The nearly-forgotten wariness is back, shoving insistently through the artificial safety.

The woman smiles, but there is sadness in her eyes. She brings her free hand up, stroking her fingers through Ciri’s hair, and Ciri can’t stop herself from flinching. She half expects the yellow glow to cover her too, a punishment for her chaos.

“When you’re in danger, your first instinct is to lash out,” the woman says. “To kill. There is no need for this.”

They tried to kill me first, Ciri wants to protest, to defend herself. But her tongue feels very heavy in her mouth.

“I’ll take care of you,” the woman says, and then her arms are around Ciri, hoisting her into the air. Panic coils in Ciri’s throat, but it is quickly soothed away by safe, safe, safe. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a child in my house.”

“But I have to find—”

Who does she need to find again?

“You just need a place to rest,” the woman says. “To grow. To become something wonderful.”

She’s forgetting something. Something important, slipping further and further away from her brain as safety, warmth, home, comfort, quiet, quiet, QUIET, slips in.

The woman turns her head to look at the place that Ciri had fallen.

“I am Visenna,” she says. “But you will call me Ma. And you…”

“I’m C—”

“I will call you Moss,” she says decisively, shifting Ciri—Moss—Ciri, her name is Ciri, she won’t forget that too, she can’t forget that too—so that her weight rests against her hip.

“Why are you doing this?” Ciri manages to ask as the warmth floods her brain. She knows she won’t be able to hold out against it much longer.

“I told you,” Visenna says, running a finger over Ciri’s cheek, almost lovingly. “It’s been so long since I had a child.”

Ciri sleeps.

***

Moss wakes up.

She stretches lazily, staring at the first rays of sun as they play over her bedroom wall. Something is lingering in her brain, a dream of a forest, a star, a pair of flashing golden eyes. She shakes her head, blinking back the last bits of sleep and readying herself to start the day. Ma said she could start learning taming magic today, start coaxing restless piglets into contented slumber. She can’t wait.

She climbs out of bed and heads into the kitchen, where Ma is already up and slicing up thick slices of bread.

“Morning, Ma,” she yawns, snatching an apple out of the bowl on the table.

“Good morning, Moss,” Ma says, dropping a kiss onto Moss’s hair. Her touch is soft and gentle, her voice is soft and gentle, her magic is soft and gentle. And part of Moss thinks that that isn’t quite right, that her Ma is supposed to be burning violet eyes and fire and fierce protectiveness.

But that isn’t right.

She’s lived here all her life.

Must just be the remnants of a dream.

***

She’s happy.

***

She’s safe.

***

But some days she feels like she’s not supposed to be happy and safe. She’s supposed to be grieving something, something greater than a single person’s death, something huge and all-encompassing. She’s supposed to be terrified of something equally vast. Something coming for her.

She’s just a simple druid. She has made no enemies, has lost no family, has no reason to be sad and scared in this warm, bright forest.

And yet she is.

***

Ma teaches her how to coax the flowers out of the earth, how to calm piglets and wolves alike, how to soothe away small storms, how to encourage trees to grow into useful shapes—houses and walls and the like. She cultivates a gentle kind of power, and the urge to scream, to run, to get away(and why does she feel that anyway, in her own home?) lessens day by day.

***

There’s a knock at their door.

A man standing there, all shining white hair and fierce yellow eyes. He balks at the sight of Ma, staring at her like she’s a monster, like she’s dangerous. Moss bristles in indignation, glaring at the man as she comes to stand by Ma’s side.

(Part of her hollers in triumph, that someone else recognizes Ma for who she is.)

“Can I help you, sir witcher?” Ma asks, looping an arm around Moss’s shoulders. There’s frost threaded through her voice. She noticed the man’s stare too.

“I’m here for Ciri,” he growls and Moss—

That name sparks something in her, clamps down on her heart until it hurts, until she’s biting down on her fist to stifle a sob. Ma gently steers Moss—that isn’t your name, and that isn’t your mother, wake up—behind her, putting herself between her and the man.

A wave of warm safety rushes over Moss and she leans into it with a sigh, letting go of the fear that had flooded her system at the sound of a name that she’s quickly forgetting. The man shakes his head like he’s shooing away a fly.

“Stop that,” he says.

“You’re strong,” Ma laughs. There’s no humor in it. “Even for a witcher.”

“I always have been,” the man says. His voice is shaking, no matter how tough he tries to sound. “Give up the girl.”

“I have more than mind magic you know.” She steps forward, but the man doesn’t flinch.

“So do I,” he says evenly. It’s not just his voice that’s shaking now. Fine tremors run up and down his body, making him tremble all over except for his right hand, which rests steady against the hilt of his sword.

“You won’t take my child,” Ma says. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”

And the man laughs. It’s bitter. Wounded.

“That’s a new tune for you,” he says. His knuckles are turning white. “How long will you want to keep her then,Visenna?” He spits Ma’s name like it’s poison. “A year? Five years? Until she gets a mind of her own?”

Around them, the trees that make up the framework of their house creak in warning. Ma stretches out her arms, trying to cover as much of the space in front of Moss as she can.

Run. Go to him. He’s here to save you.

SafetyWarmthQuietQuietQUIET

She stays still. This feels more like a dreams than her dream had.

“You’re breaking her,” the man says. He sounds close to tears. “You’re shattering her mind, surely you must realize that—”

“I’m helping her,” Ma insists. “Her chaos is destructive. Dangerous—”

“As is mine,” The trees shake more violently. Three of them break free of their contorted (wrong, wrong, they shouldn’t growlike that) positions and curl inwards, branches snapping threateningly.

Ma stretches her fingers up and the trees fall still. Her shoulders heave as she takes in the man.

“So what will you do with her when her chaos escapes your shackles?” The man storms forward. Branch after branch peels away from the ceiling. “Take her off to market? Leave her alone by the side of the road?”

Leaves spin around them like a gathering storm and Moss doesn’t even know how to counter this kind of power. More than that, she doesn’t know if she wantsto counter this kind of power. Because Ma isn’t denying the man’s accusations.

“Aspen,” she breathes instead.

“Not my name anymore.”

The branches descend.

Moss thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to watch Ma die. Fear and relief burn through her, so intermingled she can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Her head burns like something is tearing apart her brain piece by piece. Just when their home is about to pierce through Ma’s heart, she waves her hand and they freeze in the air.

She’s trembling, clearly straining against the man’s power, but she holds fast.

“You want me dead,” she whispers.

“I kill monsters,” the man says. He draws his sword. There’s pain on his face, stark and stricken, flashing in his eyes and twisting down his mouth. “And I’m sorry that you are one, but you are.”

“I’m not the one trying to pull apart a mother and her daughter,” Ma says, and she twists her right hand in a familiar pattern.

“No,” Moss says, as her hand glows sickly yellow. She’s seen this spell used before, on countless wolves and bears and kikimora. The thought of using it on a person is just—it’s unimaginable. Unthinkably cruel. “No!”

QUIET.

Her mouth snaps shut and she falls to her knees, the pain peaking in her head. The man growls and charges forward, swinging his sword at Ma’s head. She ducks under the swing and darts past him, brushing her hand across her chest as she goes.

The glow spreads over his skin, eating up every inch of him, and he drops to the ground with a scream, his limbs jerking uncontrollably. He curls in on himself, the scream still piercing the air, writhing and gasping like a dying fish.

“Wh—Wha—?” he chokes, reaching for his fallen sword. Ma takes a step closer to him and his hand curls into a useless claw. His question cuts off as he chokes on air, curling even tighter as agony racks through him. Moss can practically see the pain shuddering through him, wave after wave, his muscles twisting and jerking against it.

Her mother did this.

Her mother cursed a human being to feel pain whenever he goes near another person.

Her mother has effectively cut this man off from the rest of the world.

Moss is going to be sick. She’s sure of it.

“I had to,” Ma—no, Visenna, this woman doesn’t deserve the title of mother—says, cupping the man’s cheek in her hand. He wails as soon as she touches him, jerking backwards in a feeble attempt to get away from the pain. “You’re dangerous. You’d murder your own mother. You can’t be trusted around people.”

“Wha—?”

“Fifty feet,” Visenna says, getting to her feet. Her voice is clinical. Instructive. “That’s how close you can get to humans, before the burning starts. It’ll keep you and me safe, both. And keep others safe from you as well.”

“Y—You—” He’s trembling, and Moss isn’t sure if it’s from pain or fear. She wants to go to him, comfort him, but that will only make it worse.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But we wouldn’t be here if you’d just listened to me, all those years ago.”

She sighs, regretfully but not mournfully, like she’s discovered one of her plants—not even her favorite plant—is infested with aphids.

“Be well, Aspen,” she says, ignoring his earlier insistence that that isn’t his name. Ignoring the fact that he could hardly expect to be well with this kind of curse, that killing him would have been kinder.

She turns around to pick up Moss, and for the first time in a long time, Moss struggles against her grip.

“No!” she screams, as Visenna hoists her into the air and carries her towards the door. “No, no, you have to undo it, you can’t just leave him like this, you fucking—”

“Language,” Visenna says idly as a wave of safetywarmthquietquietquiet rushes over her. She fights it with everything she has, thrashing against it like a fish caught in a net. But Visenna has always been stronger than her, will always be stronger than her, and she can feel her mind slipping out of her control.

And then, another command. One that she dimly realizes she’s felt before.

Forget.

The man lies on the floor of their house, shaking and shuddering as the pain pours through him.

Forget.

He tilts his head and meets Moss’s gaze with panicked golden eyes.

FORGET.

And she remembers. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. Her destiny.

FORGET. SLEEP.

Ciri closes her eyes.

***

Moss wakes up.

#geraltwhumpweek #the witcher #geralt of rivia #ciri #angst #no happy endings in this installment folks

[kpopcotton]

Stomach Pains ~ Seo Changbin

a/n ~ my gosh, i am so freaking soft for this kid it’s not even funny.  • Genre: highschool!au, fluff, slight angst because he’s a bit of a bully • Warning(s): rude changbin, he really “dislikes you” • Reader Gender: gender-neutral • Word Count: 2.1k

==≎==

   “they smiled at me today,” changbin groaned as he plopped himself down at the lunch table occupied by his group of best friends. “it was disgusting. i wanted to throw up!”

   the person he’s referencing is you. nobody knows why the boy dispises your presence except him. apparently, he can remember the exact date and time when he realized you were the bane of his existence but the thing is, he’s never told anyone about the event. his friends have no clue how you could annoy him so much, being as they found you quite pleasing to interact with. they’ve given up trying to ask him why.

   “i think y/n has a very nice smile personally,” the youngest piped up shyly, picking the vegetables out of his fried rice for the oldest next to him. his words surprised the whole table. it was rare for jeongin to speak up about the matter at all and his blushy face came as a shock.

   changbin’s jaw dropped as he stared at the boy in confusion. it astonished him to no end that his friends didn’t get as sick as he did whenever he thought about you. one of the boys, felix, waited for a moment to see if changbin would snap back before adding his two cents. “are you sure it’s not from mr. wang’s sex talk this morning that you’re feeling queasy?”

   “oh please, lix! i’m begging you, don’t bring that up!” another suddenly yelled dramatically, making an ordeal of throwing his head onto the cafeteria table which gained a few glances from the other students. that was hyunjin, the one they call drama llama. the boy next to him, jisung struggled to keep his snort in as he comfortingly rubbed the older’s back, the rest of them bursting into laughter.

   felix smiled to himself proudly, having single-handedly saved the youngest from changbin’s wrath and changing the topic of conversation so the rest of them wouldn’t get annoyed (seungmin) with the inevitable rants that would have ensued.

==≎==

   it was a good day, changbin concluded. he hadn’t seen you once around the school and you weren’t brought up in any conversations at lunch, though it’s usually him that brings you up. he started to think that you were sick today and that made him feel even better.

   “oh! seo changbin!” your voice came out of nowhere and irked something deep in his abdomen. he froze on the spot, hearing your perky footsteps as you appeared in front of him. he wanted to tell you to go away, but your happy expression made his stomach twist in knots. he feels that if he even tries to speak, he’ll barf all over your cute disgusting pastel sweater. “you’re good friends with kim seungmin right?”

   “what’s it to ya?” he growled, his hands finding their way to his pockets. he swallowed thickly to hopefully push down the knot in his throat.

   “well,” you giggled and took out a folder from your bag. “the dork left his homework in the library and i was hoping you could give it to him? i know he’s got a baseball game that he’s leaving early for and that he’s big into academics. knowing him, he’ll probably freak once he notices his folder is missing.”

   he’s offended, to say the least, that you would state the fact about his friend so casually like you were actually close with him. he’s quick to snatch the folder from you, “whatever.”

   and just like that, you ruined his day. he glared at you when you smiled and said thank you before he stomped down the hall to the boys’ locker room. his stomach started doing gymnastics and his heartbeat was erratic in his chest. out of anger, he presumed. you just made him that upset.

   he found seungmin talking with hyunjin and minho while getting changed into his baseball gear and throws the folder at him. “you forgot this.”

   the two dancers jump at his sudden appearance and look at him. “what’s got your panties in a twist? i thought you said today was a good day?” minho asked, his arms crossing in amusement at the younger’s agitation. 

   “i thought so, but then the demon came out of nowhere and assaulted me!”

   seungmin rolled his eyes, fixing the papers in his folder. “i’m assuming y/n asked you to return my homework to me?”

   “yeah! and they attempted to act like they know you personally!” changbin yelled, throwing his hands into the air. hyunjin’s laugh echoed around the gym lockers at the look on seungmin’s face.

   “that’s because they do?” he squinted, gently putting his folder in with his clothes in his duffel bag. “we have study sessions every saturday for big tests.”

   “you go on dates with y/n!?” changbin’s words draw out a dark blush on seungmin’s cheeks. the other two boys share a look with each other before slowly backing out of the room with the excuse that they’re late for practice with the dance team, though their words land of deaf ears.

   ‘th-they’re not dates, we-we just study.” seungmin slung his bag over his shoulder, his blush darkening. there wasn’t any doubt that he found you attractive, but he couldn’t see himself dating you. he didn’t feel like wasting valuable study and practice time on a significant other. “if i didn’t know any better, i would say you’re jealous.” he snapped, finishing the conversation off by walking out of the locker room.

   him? jealous? changbin scoffed. that’s the stupidest thing one of the smartest kids in the school could say.

==≎==

   it was the second friday of the month which meant it was time for the boys’ monthly sleepover. this time, it was chan’s turn to entertain. chan’s house was large, a comfortable living space his father would say, but it definitely was not big enough for all nine boys and his family. yet, because he’s the bang chan, he made it work. usually, chan “rented” out the entire basement of his home for everyone to set up camp, but today, he decided to host the festivities in his backyard since the climate had proven itself to be tolerable even during the darkest times of the night.

   changbin was in awe the moment he stepped into the backyard. he and jisung were the first ones to arrive, having ridden home with chan in his car. it seemed chan’s mom outdid herself each time the boy said it was his turn. the pool was uncovered and ready to swim in, the tents were already pitched and jam-packed with pillows and blankets, the snacks were fresh and begging to be eaten, and the famous oak tree was decked out in aesthetic lights and a large white sheet.

   “your mom is awesome, chan-hyung!” jisung suddenly cried, jumping up and down in excitement whilst making the older laugh. jisung dropped his bag by the sliding glass door and bolted around the yard. changbin chuckled softly as well, his eyes still taking in the picture-perfect yard though after a few seconds they started following the energetic boy around the backyard.

   “don’t let my mom hear you, sung, you’ll become the favorite.” chan joked, a smile tugging at his lips. he wandered over to the snack table to fill a bowl with fruit, which was mostly pineapple, and started stuffing his mouth. changbin decided to join him, finding a bowl of pretzels to nibble on.

   “cannonball!” jisung screeched, gaining the two older boys’ attention as they looked back to see jisung just in his boxers creating a massive splash as he made contact with the pool water.

   chan laughed in disbelief, changbin shaking his head as he spoke. “well, the pool’s christened.”

   jisung’s head came up fast, his mouth wide open as he made noises of discomfort. he rushed to get out. “cold! cold! it’s cold!!” he shuddered when the air touched his wet skin, jumping back into the pool. “everything is cold!”

   chan’s mom came out then with a few of the other boys following her, her gentle laugh resounding through the backyard mixed with the laughs of the other boys as well. “how’s the pool, sung-ie?~”

   “cold,” he repeated, though he sunk lower into the water. his cheeks were warm and everyone could see they were pink.

   “you’ll get used to it.” chan’s father called out from the sliding glass door, having a couple of the boys help him wheel out a popcorn maker. “that’s what a real man would do.”

   chan rolls his eyes at his father’s words but makes sure to hide it. “of course. thanks, dad,” he smiles while driving his parents to the door. “we’ll be careful, eat well, and make sure everything is shut down before bed!” and with that, he closed the door behind them.

   “wow, you’re brave hyung.” the youngest murmurs, watching the adults shake their heads at the boy and head to do whatever parents do. “if i did that, i would’ve been in big trouble.”

   “my parents are nice,” chan chuckles. “anyways, who wants to join jisung in the pool?”

==≎==

   pool volleyball was fun, and the boys (felix and chan) enjoyed spiking the ball over the net at each other. hyunjin got hit in the face with the ball, jisung got elbowed in the stomach, and woojin inhaled some water, but they all were having a grand time. that was until changbin hit the ball too hard and sent it flying over the fence. they went silent when they heard something shatter and an exasperated yell of surprise.

   instantly, the boys looked to the boy at fault whilst he sunk into the water. they then looked at each other, nodding in silent agreement before training their eyes back on changbin.

   “you know you gotta get it, right?” jisung stated, making changbin roll his eyes.

   “yeah, but i’m not going alone,” he mumbled. 

   “i’ll go with you!” felix offered, leaping through the water and grabbing changbin by the arm. he, albeit a bit reluctantly, followed behind the younger boy over to the gate in the fence. the other boys decided to play chicken while waiting for the ball to come back.

   they stood at the gate for a second before felix raised his hand to open it, though both he and changbin jumped when there was slamming on it. “yah! bang christopher chan! open up, you coward!”

   both boys looked at each other, already recognizing the voice as yours. the boys in the pool froze mid-game to look over at the commotion. felix opened the gate quickly, and you were surprised to see him.

   your shock was quickly replaced with a kind smile as you greated the boy. “hey, lix. are you the one who spilled my lemonade?”

   “nope! not this time!” felix giggled, his eyes turning into cute cresents and his nose scrunching when you pinched his cheek. changbin looked on with an ache in his chest and a twist in his gut.

   “cutie,” you gush, letting his cheek go. “then who did?”

   changbin was pushed in front of you by chan who had gotten out of the pool. “this guy.”

   you instantly brightened noticing that there were, in fact, multiple boys over at the bang residence. all of which you enjoyed to be around. “ah, so you guys are having a party without me, huh?”

   changbin glared at you from his crouched look. “why would we even invi-”

   “yeah!” chan quickly cut the younger off, wrapping an arm around him. “it’s our monthly sleepover. we were playing pool volleyball, but this guy,” he paused to ruffle changbin’s hair. “decided to be too rough and hit the ball over to your side of the fence!”

   you laughed as you watched changbin’s eyes narrow and his cheeks turn a bit pink. you crinkle your nose, “i’m sure he didn’t mean to hit it too hard. don’t worry about it, guys.”

   “but, there must be some way he can make it up to you, right?” seungmin added as he popped up behind the trio.

   seungmin’s comment made you blush a bit. he always talked to you at your study sessions about how annoying changbin’s “stupid crush” on you is and how he’s an “idiot for not realizing he’s in love with you”. 

   “i suppose a date should suffice,” you mumble, noticing how changbin visibly gulps and his eyes widen in surprise. the other boys hollering from the pool. you kept eye contact with changbin as you smiled and shrugged. “i mean, a trip to the diner for milkshakes doesn’t sound too bad right about now.”

#god please let me give him a hug one day #and maybe boop his nose #i love changbin #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x stay #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #skz changbin

[old-read-all-about-kpop]

Hello, that's me again lol:) can I ask for oneus reaction where their gf steals their first kiss? Thank you and I love you💕💕💕🍀

A/N: I love you too, boo! Of course I’ll write about our lovely boys. This will be my first reaction regarding them 👏 I’m gonna write it in the form of a headcanon cause I feel as though I’m gonna draw a blank in the middle, so I hope you enjoy it! 💓

Ravn

You couldn’t resist the temptation of kissing him as he rapped his verse to you for his group’s debut song

You just became drawn to him and subconsciously leaned towards him

It wasn’t until you heard silence and the feel of Ravn’s plush lips relax against yours that you regained your senses

You would pull back and clap your hand over your mouth, completely wide-eyed

Ravn would simply blink at you, also in the midst of regaining his senses

But he wasn’t doing so over the shock of you kissing him first in your relationship

He was marveling over the fact that your lips molded perfectly against his

He honestly felt intoxicated

And if the kiss wasn’t enough, he LOVED your boldness

It never even registered in his mind that you took his first kiss

He was just happy you kissed him

Now, he simply wanted your lips back on his

“Enough with the rapping. Give me some more of that lip action.”

He then snatched you into a bear hug, causing a surprised squeal to escape your lips

As he made you two fall back into the couch cushions, he decorated your face with light kisses, emitting soft giggles from you

Then, he finally landed his lips onto yours, giving you a breath-taking kiss that expressed all the love he had for you

Seoho

This boy would NOT sit still after the incident

He was showing off his tumbling to you and tripped

You, being so protective of your cutie-patootie boyfriend, tried to catch him and hopefully soften his fall

You two ended up as a tangle of limbs 

Your lips were smushed together

Moments passed with you two blinking at each other, lips still attached 

Seoho was the first to break the (awkward) kiss with a gasp

He moved away from you, silently screaming and flailing his hands

His cheeks took on the hue of rubies as he changed his body’s position on the floor six times in thirty seconds

You slowly sat up; your cheeks were also colored red

Awkward silence would be deafening you two’s ears

Seoho finally calmed down and turned to look at you

With a still-evident blush on his face, he parted his lips to speak

“You know…that was a p-pretty awkward first kiss. Do you think we could…?

He trailed off, feeling embarrassed and shy all over again

You smiled at your adorably flustered boyfriend before sitting closer to him

You cupped his face and turned his head, planting a soft kiss to his lips

You lingered there, smiling 

Seoho returned your smile, instantaneously melting into the kiss

His first kiss may have happened differently from what he had imagined, but it was nonetheless amazing and special in its own way

Leedo

He was obviously shy about something

But you just couldn’t put your finger on it

He kept glancing at you while you two were watching a movie

His hands felt extremely clammy as he held your cool one

And the number of times this boy licked his lips should be against the law

He just seemed a little too jittery and you wanted to find out the reason for it

Finally, you paused the movie, refusing to fake naivete any longer

“Why did you pause the movie?” He chuckled, but the sound seemed strained

You squinted your eyes at him

He avoided your gaze, choosing to look down at his ripped jeans

You weren’t going for that; you wanted eye contact

So, you grabbed his face and made him look at you

He let out a gasp at your sudden actions

Once he saw how close you two were, he blanched

“Are you gonna explain to me why you keep fidgeting like you need to pee?”

He gulped harshly, his pupils shaking

“Well?”

He sighed in defeat

He grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers together

“It’s just… We’ve been together for a few weeks now and- Oh, I don’t know! You just always look so precious and beautiful and I can’t stop myself from thinking about how your lips may feel like. How it would feel to kiss you for the first time. But, I don’t know if you’d be comfortable with that and, trust and believe, I can wait until you-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his, proving to him that you were more than comfortable with sharing you two’s first kiss together

After a few heartbeats, you separated 

Both your cheeks were flushed, your eyes sparkling

“Well, I’m sure glad I opened my mouth.”

Keonhee

(Aw the picture is so small :( But it produces so much cuteness!)

You adored Keonhee’s silly behavior

His loudness and rambunctious demeanor made you laugh

There was never a dull moment with your hyper squirrel

But, today, you wished for some quiet

You had a headache, more than likely from not getting enough sleep due to studies

Keonhee was loudly playing on his PS4

He was yelling at his comrades, getting them into formation as they tried to infiltrate their enemies’ headquarters

You groaned, but it was drowned by your boyfriend’s booming voice

“Keonheeeee,” you whined, putting on your most miserable-sounding tone

Keonhee, being the emotionally sensitive boyfriend that he was, whipped his head around to look at you, completely disregarding the game in an instant

“Yes, my love?”

“My head really hurts. Could you please quiet down a bit?”

His face held instant guilt

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said apologetically. “You know what? Let me finish this match and then you can have all of my attention. I’ll wait on you hand and foot until you feel better. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

The smile on his face held pure sincerity and adoration for you

You didn’t hesitate to sit up, pressing a soft-but-loving kiss onto his pouty lips

His eyes were wide like fish bowls; he was utterly speechless

“I would greatly appreciate that, Keon. Thank you so much.” You smiled innocently at him, genuinely feeling grateful for having such a caring boyfriend

His voice was still not working; he was still out of order

Not even the shouts from his teammates were shaking him out of his stunned state

“You know you’re losing the game, right? Your teammates are dying!”

Hwanwoong

You were watching their performance in their dressing room through the monitor

It was the group’s debut stage and you couldn’t be happier for them

They have prepared extremely hard for this moment in their lives, for their careers

You smiled happily as the group performed with all their heart, but your smile grew a little bit more when a certain someone came to the center

Your boyfriend, Yeo Hwanwoong, was dancing with every bone, joint, ligament, tendon, in his body

He held so much power, skill, and fluidity that he seemed to be made for this profession

Or more like this profession was made for him

Once the boys finished their first take, you ran out the room to go greet them 

Your eyes instantly focused on your talented boyfriend, who was a little sweaty but very much handsome

He saw you running and opened his arms wide for you

A bright smile was present on his glowing face

You latched onto him, smiling from ear-to-ear

“You looked so good, baby! You all did amazing!” 

You peered into his eyes, pride glossing over your eyes

Hwanwoong was still panting, but the smile he had on his boyish face never faltered

“Oh, thank you, babygirl. You’ll never understand how happy I am to have you here during the most important moment in my life. You’re one of the most important people I love and care for, so you being here makes this moment something I want to treasure forever.” His words were deeply coated with sincerity as he looked at you like you were the most breath-taking thing to ever exist

Your heart was beating fast

His confession had you wanting to melt

His words were like food, and your heart devoured them

Without warning, you crashed your lips into Hwanwoong’s, catching the man off-guard

Soon enough, his hands cupped your face softly, as if you were a fragile artifact

You two parted, catching your breaths despite the kiss being gentle 

The love in Woong’s eyes intensified

He grabbed your hand and held it tightly as if a strong wind were to take you away from him

“I don’t think this moment could get any better after that amazing kiss.”

Xion

(This gif was too precious to pass up so please disregard the caption!)

You truly regretted having your boyfriend teach you how to sit in the M shape

You were cringing in pain, but you tried to push yourself to stay put

Xion saw you struggling and laughed, his dimples blooming

You blushed, from both embarrassment because you were sooo confident you could do it but was obviously failing miserably, and from seeing his precious smile and hearing his melodic laughter

You tried to expand your legs out and felt a twinge of pain in your pelvic bone

“Ow!” You winced

Xion’s face dropped, immediately growing concerned for you

“No, baby! Don’t force yourself! Here, stand up.”

He easily got out of the position and stood over you, hands extending to provide assistance

Your blush deepened at his caring gestures as you reached your hands out to him bashfully

He took them into a tight grip before pulling you up to your feet

Unexpectantly, your legs gave out, falling victim to fatigue

You gasped as you fell toward Xion

Xion gasped as well, quickly moving to catch you

Chest-to-chest, nose-to-nose, and lips-to-lips, you and Xion stood pressed against each other

Both you two’s eyes were wide as you quickly acknowledged the situation

But then Xion’s eyes shifted as they began to close

His arms firmly secured themselves around your waist

His lips started to move against your lips, prompting yours to follow suit

He couldn’t help but smile as you two shared light and loving kisses

With one last peck to your lips, Xion tore his lips away 

His eyes almost seemed to sparkle with the newfound love he had for you

You smiled shyly, quickly averting your eyes down to your sock-wearing feet

But, Xion quickly took purchase of your chin and made you look at him

The smile was still present on his face, his dimples on full display for you to gawk at

“That was our first kiss, huh?”

You nodded absentmindedly, completely entranced by his beauty

His smile transformed into a smirk then

“Wanna go for a second one?”

Another A/N: Dear Lord this one lowkey got me in my soft feels! Me writing about Seoho is the best one in my opinion cause I can vividly see him being so shook 😂 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it love for I enjoyed writing it 😊💕

#requested #oneus #oneus ravn #oneus seoho #oneus leedo #oneus keonhee #oneus hwanwoong #oneus xion #oneus imagines #oneus reactions #oneus scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios

[stolethekey]

we could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable

for @johnny-and-dora; sorry your assigned gifter couldn’t write you a fic! hopefully this is some consolation. i was dying at the idea of a soulmate au but the turnaround time was so short i couldn’t really gather inspiration for it, so here’s some peraltiago fluff + pre-relationship pining!! happy summer hope you enjoy

and shoutout to the crew at @b99fandomevents for putting so much work into this event!! thanks for giving me the opportunity to write an extra fic ;)

read on ao3

If Amy Santiago has a fatal flaw, it is not hubris.

It may seem like she is overly proud, at times—she can be prone to excessive humble-bragging, and Gina is the first to point out that she slips mentions of her achievements into daily, mundane conversations—but underneath the veneer of confidence lies a crippling self-doubt that refuses to let go of her thoughts. It’s the same anxiety that keeps her up at night, wondering whether she truly earned her promotion to detective and whether she should actually still be a beat cop. It’s the one that whispers remember when Jake beat you in arrests? at random times throughout the day, even though that bet ended almost an entire year ago and Jake’s fake date wasn’t nearly as terrible as she thought it was going to be.

Apparently, it’s called “imposter syndrome,” and she has it bad.

But Amy is nothing if not practical, and she’s mostly learned to manage it. She flaunts her achievements publicly so that the doubt stays buried in her mind, and her colleagues are none the wiser. In a way, she thinks, the uncertainty is helpful—it means she’s constantly pushing herself, constantly trying to be better, and that’s a good thing.

It’s a good thing, which is why she doesn’t question her decision to throw a New Year’s Eve party for the Nine-Nine.

Last year’s Thanksgiving fiasco is still fresh in her mind, and even though she knows that it is objectively questionable to be so hung up about a party that she tried to throw a full year ago, she can’t help feeling like she needs to make up for it, like she needs to prove she can organize a fun event for her co-workers that doesn’t end in eating takeout at the precinct.

Plus, everyone at the Nine-Nine is closer now, which is evidenced by the fact that Jake barely bats an eye when she asks him to dress up.

“Why, got a hot new boyfriend you need me to make jealous?”

She winces slightly, but the regret that appears immediately in his eyes is enough to make her force a smirk. “Yeah, it’s that flasher I arrested last week.”

“Ew—”

“What can I say? He really made an impression.”

Jake laughs, and she determinedly ignores the way her stomach jolts at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle.  

“So, six-thirty then? You can bring Sophia.”

His amusement fades into a soft smile that definitely does not make Amy feel warm and jittery inside. “I’ll be there. Sophia’s out of town, though—she’s spending the holidays with her parents.”

“Oh,” Amy says, trying not to sound too cheerful. “That’s too bad, seeing as I was planning on making my famous roast turkey to impress her.”

Jake snorts, but before he can say anything, Charles has somehow appeared at the edge of their desks, his face full of panic. “Amy, I love you, but please let me cook that turkey, please—”

“I was kidding,” she protests, trying to shove him away. “I’ve admitted defeat in the culinary world, okay? I’m gonna go get pasta beforehand.”

“Yeah, Charles, relax,” Jake says, grinning widely. “But you should still bring those octopus balls. Santiago loves those.”

Amy throws her stapler at him.

 ---

“Is this New Year’s-y enough?” Amy asks Kylie in the dressing room of the mall Express.

Kylie sighs. “Yes. It’s beautiful and you look beautiful wearing it, just as you have in the last ten dresses you’ve tried on. It’s just a house party for you and your coworkers, whom you see literally every day. There is no need to be this anxious.”

“I’m not anxious, I just want to make a good impression. If I’m asking everyone else to dress up, I have to look the part myself.”

“Mmmhmm,” Kylie hums, reaching over to unzip the back of Amy’s dress. “Well, whatever you’re not anxious about is going to lose his mind when he sees you in this. Seriously.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Amy snaps, shimmying out of the dress and snatching her leggings off the wall. “And this isn’t for him.”

It’s not, really, but as she walks out of the store with a shopping bag in hand, she wonders if it maybe is, just a little bit.

Her excitement is completely gone the morning of, as she wakes up with what feels like a throat full of sawdust and a sledgehammer pounding away at her head. She groans as she forces herself out of bed and into the shower, where she stays until the water runs cold and her shivering has gotten undeniably out of control.  

She steps out of the tub, wincing as the cold air hits her skin, and dries herself off as quickly as possible. The kitchen seems indomitably far away but she somehow manages to make it, pulling her sweatpants up as she walks down the hallway. It takes her what feels like an hour to make some tea and force some oatmeal down, and by the time she swallows her cold medicine her body feels like it has already run a marathon.

Ordinarily, her frustration at the situation would be more than overwhelming, but her head is throbbing, and as she types out a long, apologetic text message the only thing she can muster is a faint sense of defeat. Her eyes are already closing as she presses send, and she crawls back into bed with no more than a twinge of regret.

When she wakes up again, two things register in her mind: it’s dark outside, and her doorbell is ringing off the hook.

She gives a slight whimper of frustration as she slides out of bed, grabbing her sweatshirt and her phone on the way into the hallway.

“Unless I ordered some extra-strength Tylenol in my sleep,” she grumbles, yanking the door open, “I don’t want—oh.”

Jake’s eyes widen as they travel up and down her body, taking in her old T-shirt and disheveled hair.

“Sorry I’m late, I got stuck on the phone with my mom—um, did you prank me? Was this a pajama party?”

“No, I—I texted,” she manages to croak out, wincing at the sting in her throat. “Look—” She unlocks her phone and thrusts it halfheartedly at him.

“Oh,” Jake says, glancing at her open messages tab. “Um—you only sent it to Boyle.”

“What? Fuck—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, handing her phone back. “You’re sick, you were obviously just sleeping, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s my fault,” Amy mutters. She wonders dimly how everyone but Jake somehow knew not to come, but the pounding in her head overpowers her brief curiosity. “Sorry, you could’ve made other plans—”

“Nah, I would’ve just been watching Die Hard.”

“Okay,” Amy says numbly. She tries to say something else, but neither her mouth nor her brain seems to be working properly. “I’m cold.”

Jake laughs softly, then steps inside, setting his eight-dollar bottle of wine on the floor. “Come on,” he says, turning her gently by her shoulders. “I’ll guide you back to bed.”

He watches her shuffle across her bedroom floor, drink a glass of water, and crawl back underneath the covers before backing out of the room. The gentle smile on his face as he closes the door is the last thing she sees before she drifts off again.

--

She wakes to the smell of chicken soup.

It’s wafting through her bedroom door, so she gets up and opens it, noting with some relief that the pain in her throat has lessened somewhat. Taylor Swift’s New Year’s Day plays softly as she walks down the hallway, and as she emerges into her kitchen, she sees Jake bent over the sink, his jacket lying on her couch.

“Hi,” she says softly, ignoring the way her heart skips at the sight of him washing dishes in her kitchen.

“Hi,” he smiles, pausing the music and turning to look at her. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” she says honestly, noting that a mini pharmacy now sits next to a glass of water on her kitchen counter. “You—um, you’re still here?”

“Oh—uh, yeah, I hope that’s okay—I was going to leave, but you seemed really sick, and I just—”

“No, I’m glad,” she mumbles, and he grins. Her stomach flips a little, and she clears her throat. “Is that soup I smell?”

“Oh, yeah.” He gestures at the pot on the stove. “It’s an old family recipe—my mom used to make it for me whenever I got sick, so I figured—”

Her eyes land on a bag on the counter and she freezes, her hand in the utensil drawer. “And those potato pancakes?”

“Um, I bought them,” he says, and he’s definitely blushing. “Just in case you didn’t like the soup.”

She can hear Kylie laughing at her as she makes her way over to the stove, trying to hide her smile. “I can like two things.”

He laughs, then grins at the noise she makes as the soup hits her taste buds. “Good?”

“This is incredible,” she says, pouring herself a hefty serving. “I can’t believe you can cook.”

“Well, I can’t, really. But I made my mom teach me that recipe after I moved out. Just feels like home, you know?”

She smiles as she brings the bowl to her lips. “Yeah.”

Jake puts the plate he was washing in her dish rack, and as he wipes his hands on her dish towel she feels a sudden surge of completely unwelcome affection. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrow at her, “feeling up to a game of Go Fish?”

She rolls her eyes as she brushes past him, grabbing the glass of water as she goes. “I’m sick, not an eight-year-old child.”

He snorts, but produces a deck of cards anyway, and as they settle onto Amy’s living room rug she tries her best not to get comfortable.

It doesn’t work, even as he has a girlfriend he has a girlfriend he has a girlfriend keeps parading through her thoughts, and she completely loses track of time as they laugh their way through every card game in the books and multiple rematches.

She has just triumphantly laid her final cards down in their game of Speed when something explodes outside, sending Jake shooting to his feet.

“Fireworks!”

She takes his offered hand and stands up. “It’s already midnight?”

“Guess so.” Jake pulls the curtains back as a shower of green bursts spectacularly through the sky. “Sorry you did all that work for a party that didn’t happen.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, and she finds that she means it. “There’ll always be more chances. There are plenty of holidays for me to torture people.”

He chuckles. “Still—it sucks that you got sick today, of all days. It’s kind of a shitty way to start the year.”

She gazes through her window, her eye catching his reflection in the glass. “Oh, I don’t know,” she says softly. “It’s not so bad.”

Amy can feel his eyes on her, and for some reason she turns to meet his gaze. She thinks there are flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes, and as the fireworks continue to explode the gold morphs into blues, then greens, then reds and yellows. She feels no desire to tear herself away from the kaleidoscope of color in front of her, and she swallows as a massive cheer arises from the ground beneath her window.

Jake clears his throat and looks away, his fingers playing at the hem of his shirt. She follows his lead, turning to watch the crowd beneath her building dance drunkenly down the street. A slight disappointment works its way into her gut, but there is a sliver of hope along with it—misplaced optimism, maybe, but a brief glimpse of something that could be.

And despite all the planning, all the agonizing and dress-buying for a party that imploded so suddenly, Amy feels mostly at peace. Her therapist would be proud, she thinks. She wonders how much of it is thanks to the presence of the man standing next to her, gazing at the explosions of color outside with an almost childlike wonder in his eyes.

There are times she thinks she missed her chance, but today is the first day of a new year. And what are new years for if they’re not for second chances, anyway?

Her voice is soft when she speaks. “Happy New Year, Jake.”

It takes only a moment before he answers, a slightly wistful smile on his face. “Happy New Year, Ames.”

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