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lilhughesy · 23 days ago

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Sunshine Smiles | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! slow burn (ish), friends to lovers, mentions of SA (please skip this one if this makes you comfortable!), underaged drinking, fighting, brief mention of blood, toxic ex boyfriend. word count: 13.2k

summary: Luke and Y/N have been best friends after sharing a science class together, and always have been just friends... right? They go through the adventures of high school together, dating other people but it never seems to work out because what if the person they have been looking for has been right in front of them this whole time?

a/n: oh boy, this one has been in the works for a while, especially with having 8 final exams this month! but here we go! first Lukey fic! I hope you like It <3

You and Luke met in sophomore year of high school, you had biology together and sat beside one another in the seating arrangement. The two of you would make small talk at the start of every class, the casual “how are you?” or “did you watch last night’s game?” but not anything more than that. It wasn’t until you noticed him struggling with the genetics unit where you asked him if he needed help.

Usually, the two of you would sit quietly and scribble down notes into your booklets throughout class. Luke with one ear bud in while the teacher talked. He was pretty good at keeping up with the material being taught, but with his hockey season picking up — both the school’s team and his club team, he started slowing down.

You noticed how he would space out about 15 minutes into the lesson, often looking towards a spot on the ceiling rather than at the whiteboard. Minutes would pass before he would snap out of his daze temporarily before slipping back into his daydream. You couldn’t blame him though, biology first thing in the morning wasn’t pleasant.

“Do you want to copy my notes?”

His eyes widened at your question before he nodded, “Please, that would be great.”

“Do you have time during lunch? I assume your schedule is pretty busy after school.” You asked him, towards the end of the period, “I’m flexible for basically anything.”

“Yeah, lunch works for me or after school on like Thursdays and Sundays — I don’t have any practices then.”

You scribbled down your phone number on the corner of your page before tearing it and handing it to him, “Sounds good! Just text me.” You said with an easy smile.

The tips of his ears turned a faint shade of pink as he took the slip of paper from your hands. He hummed a small response before turning back to focus on the teacher.

Well, realistically, he was flustered that you gave him your number that quickly. Luke had expecting you to give your Instagram or Snapchat, like any other high school student would do. You weren’t extremely popular in your grade, but that doesn’t mean that people didn’t know you. People knew you as the sweet girl, you constantly wore a smile and treated everyone you talked to like a friend. Everyone was comfortable around you, and honestly no one had anything bad to say about you. Other than the girls who were jealous of your easygoing personality that had different guys talking to you. Anything they said behind your back was typically dismissed, no one actually believed what they had to say about you.

Luke first noticed you in the midst of the fall semester of his freshman year. He saw you standing a few lockers down from his, talking to two of your friends. You laughed, your perfect teeth shining through at whatever your friend told you. One of his own friends, greeted you as he walked past you, “Hey Y/N! How have you been?”

“Hi Dylan, I’m good! How are you? How’s your sister liking college?” You asked back to him. The two making small talk before he waved goodbye and approached Luke,

“Hey Hughesy,” Dylan said, leaning on the locker door next to Luke’s, “Ready for geometry?”

“Yeah.” Luke nodded, following Dylan as he lead his way to the math wing. Luke looking behind him once to take another look at you before walking to his class. You looked at him when he did, and you gave him a small smile.

You made it look so easy, to know everyone who knew you. You made people feel seen, remembering small details from past conversations with them that others would have easily forgotten by then. Just like how Luke forgot that he had mentioned how he grew up in Toronto and enjoyed watching the Leafs play during a random conversation during ninth grade. You brought it up about two weeks into your shared biology class, asking him “Did you watch the Leafs game last night? It was a great game!” He was shocked, slightly confused, that you knew that he liked the Leafs. It allowed you two to fall into a short conversation before the lesson began that day.

After you started helping Luke out with catching up and understanding the biology lessons, the both of you became friends — outside of just being seat partners. He found himself texting you more frequently outside of school. Conversation came easy and they never felt forced, which he appreciated. They were never awkward or uncomfortable, it was like you two knew each other for years.

You two had shared two more classes in the spring semester of tenth grade, quickly falling back into routine of being study buddies. He claimed it was to help him stay on top of schoolwork because he was so busy with hockey. In reality, he knew it was because he liked being around you and listening to you talk when you explained the topics to him. He swore that you taught significantly better than any of the teachers he had, something about the way you talked about it made it click in his head. Maybe it was because you managed to make a reference towards sports every time he was stumped, allowing him to grasp a better understanding of it.

Before either of you noticed, you became best friends. Considering how you two would spend your lunches in vacant classrooms to study, whether it be you teaching him or just hanging out together. You appreciated your new friend, Luke Hughes, who had actually took his time to get to know you. Of course you loved talking to other students in your year, but you weren’t blind to the fact that they didn’t really pay attention to you. Conversations often swirled around them and their lives, not so much your own. They never really cared to ask you about your break or the other things going on in your life. You didn’t really mind, you liked to keep to yourself.

Until it came to Luke, who got the time to know you for you. He knew that you also watched the Leafs since your mom grew up in Ontario, or how you would visit Canada during winter break each year to visit family, or even your slight obsession with Harry Potter. Luke learned that you didn’t like to wear your hair up often since you claimed to hate the way the end of your ponytails felt against the back of your neck — yet when it came to really focus on your work, your hair would be tied up to avoid strands getting into your line of vision. The conversations that flowed between the two of you were two way streets, not just the one way street that you had grown accustomed to.

As April came around, his hockey season started to trail to an end. Only allowing you two to have more time to hang out after school. The winter months had you two hanging out for an hour or two at either of your homes, typically working away at assignments beside each other. Now with the warmth of spring and less constraints of his busy hockey schedule, you two could do more together. With his home being significantly closer to the school than your own, you two would often walk to his house together once the end-of-day bell would ring.

He would kick around a rock on the sidewalks as the two of you talked. Sometimes it would be about your friends or his, other times it would be about random questions that you two would think about.

“Do you think that chicks in their eggs gain a sense of like consciousness which makes them want to break free of the egg?” You asked him, causing him to pause in his strides, “Like maybe they get super claustrophobic, you know?”

“What kind of question is that?” Luke laughed, before continuing his movements, “It is a good question though… Or it could be just a natural reaction or reflex to break free.”

You shrugged, “That too.”

Ellen loved having you around, she knew that you were a good influence on her youngest son. Her boys were never the academic type, always drawn towards activities like sports or games in general. She never expected for Luke to tell her about him spending lunches catching up on class notes or having a friend over to work on essays. She was surprised, to say the least, she expected him to be like his older brothers. Always hanging out with friends during lunch, complaining about having to do class work, or having friends over to play on the PlayStation and being typical teenage boys.

You were a bundle of joy and sunshine to her. Whenever you saw her, you would ask her about the book she recently read or ask her about what she was cooking in the kitchen. You were genuinely interested in conversations with her, not talking to her just to make a good impression.

“Hi honey!” Ellen’s voice sang out from the living room as you shut the front door behind you and Luke. He kicked off his beat air forces, placing them on the shoe rack,

“Hi mom, Y/N’s here too!” He told her. You following him towards the living room. She looked up from her phone, seeing her son and you standing in the doorway.

You smiled at her when she saw you, “Hi Ellen! How have you been? I’m sorry I came unannounced.”

She chuckled, placing her phone screen down on the coffee table, “You never have to worry about that, you know that I love having you here. Do you guys have any homework?”

Luke shook his head, “No not really, we caught up during lunch.”

“Wow, good for you two!” Ellen beamed, standing up from her seat, “Can I get you two something to eat as an afternoon snack?”

“We were planning on maybe walking over to the ice cream shop in a bit,” Luke explained to her, trailing behind his mom when she made her way into the kitchen.

“Are you sure? I just went to the store and I loaded up on groceries.”

“It’s okay, mom. Thank you though!” Luke said to her, “We’re probably going to head to my room to hang out for a bit.”

Ellen hummed, waving you two off as Luke led you to his room. He tossed his school bag towards his desk before flopping onto his bed. You placed your bag next to his, settling for his chair,

“So,” He propped himself on his elbows to look at you, “What’s up with you and Josh lately?”

You blushed at the mention of the boy’s name. He was on the lacrosse team at school and was in your shared English class with Luke. Josh knew you since middle school and started to talk to you more recently because of your shared lessons. You liked Josh as friend prior to this year, he was always nice to you and gave you his notes on days you were absent. It wasn’t until this year, when he seemed to have his teenage glow up with him getting a lot taller and growing out his blonde hair, where you started noticing him more than just a classmate.

“Nothing really,” You told Luke, who only raised a single brow, “We’ve just been talking.”

“Right,” Luke chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “So it has nothing to do with his long hair now and his defined jawline?”

Your face turned red, “What?! No, why would- If anything it sounds like you have a crush on him!”

“Who said anything about having a crush on Josh?” He teased, knowing he managed to put you into a corner.

“Wha- I just- I didn’t- I meant,” You sputtered out, before covering your face with your hands in embarrassment, “Okay fine! Maybe I have a bit of a crush on him.”

Luke laughed, his neck craning back, “Oh this is too good!”

“Shut up!” You whined, face still hidden away from the boy, “You act like you haven’t been talking Mallory!”

It was his turn to become flustered, “We aren’t talking though?”

“Yes you two are! I see you checking your notifications every five minutes, you waiting for her snap reply.” You giggled as his ears turned more red.

“I do not!”

“Yes you do!”

Luke groaned in defeat, “Can we call a truce on this?”

“Fine, but if you decide to ask her out, you have to tell me.” You told him and he shook his head slightly as a brief laugh fell from his lips,

“Same goes to you then.” He grinned, you rolled your eyes playfully, “Let’s go get that ice cream now.”

Luke had asked Mallory out a few weeks after. She played on the school volleyball team, and she was what you considered popular in your grade. Her and Luke became the new ‘it’ couple when they became official at the end of April. The hockey star and the cute blonde volleyball player. You were so happy for him, being the one who stood in front of him minutes before he asked Mallory to be his girlfriend — you were giving him a pep talk and hyping him up, giving him the confidence he needed in that moment.

They were a cute couple, he would sit next to her at her table during lunch with all of her friends. Somewhat ditching you to be with Mallory. He had fit right in at the table of athletes, mixed of guys and girls. You never blamed him though, his priorities moved around and you knew that Luke spending every lunch with you in a quiet classroom wouldn’t sit well with his new girlfriend.

You liked Mallory, she’d give you small smiles in the hallway and give you brief ‘hello’s’ when she came by Luke’s locker midst conversation between you two. You gave them space, not wanting to wedge yourself into their relationship.

So you remained as the sweet sunshine girl, talking to new people during lunch hour since you would rather socialize than to sit alone in a classroom. People would come by for a few minutes to talk to you before leaving to be with their own friend groups. You were never a fan of the cafeteria, too much noise and the stereotypical cliques of high school being extremely evident in the large room. Different tables for different groups. You much rather walk around the school, stand in an area with a small group of friends before continuing your way.

One person who seemed to consistently keep you company was Josh, the lacrosse player you had grown to have feelings for. He would stay with you for a good while during lunch, often jogging a few steps towards you with a call of your name.

“Y/N!” You spun around to the sound of his voice, you feel a smile grow on your face when he approached you.

“Hi Josh,” You said, giving the boy a wave, “How were your classes?”

“They’re good! Hey, I was wondering if you were busy after school today?” He asked you as the two of you walked as a leisurely pace by the outdoor track.

You glanced at him, trying to hide your brewing excitement, “I don’t think so, why?”

Josh let out a nervous laugh, his hand running through his hair, “I was wondering if you’d like to come to my game today, and maybe go get food after?”

The two of you had stopped your walk just moments before, him now looking directly at you. Josh’s cheeks were tinted pink as he waited for you to respond,

“Yeah, I would like that.” You smiled, moving a loose strand of hair out of your face.

He beamed, “Awesome! Oh, and you can wear this too!”

Josh quickly moved off one strap of his backpack to rummage through it, handing you a navy jersey. You took it from him, holding it up in front of you to see your school name on the front along with his number and name on it.

“It might be a bit oversized, but I think you would look good in it! But, I guess you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” He rambled on, sort of laughing at himself whilst being embarrassed at his own behaviour.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm, “I’d love to.”

After that afternoon where you sat on the bleachers watching him play his game and the two of you going to a diner for a meal. He had finally asked you to be his girlfriend after multiple weeks of talking to each other in school and out of, hanging out together, and him walking you to your classes. You were ecstatic when he asked, feverishly nodding your head and excited giggles when you accepted.

You texted Luke later that night about it, he was happy for you. The two of you caught up for a little, given that you rarely spent time together anymore considering how things have changed. Neither of you seemed to want to talk about the shift in dynamic nor did either of you want to jeopardize your own or the other’s relationship.

Josh had stuck to your side since, walking around school with an arm around your shoulders to show off to everyone that you two were together. He brought you to his hangouts with his friends, where he kept you right next to him the entire time. Josh seemed to be more protective of you whenever you two would see Luke. Always pulling you closer or whispering something in your ear to distract you from the curly headed hockey player.

It was a few days before summer break, and for the first time since you started dating Josh, you were left alone. Given that his family had taken him on a trip, starting his summer break early this year. You stood by your locker at the end of the day, rearranging the things in your bag when a familiar person appeared next to you.

“Hey,” Luke said, leaning his back against the next locker, “Where’s Josh?”

You looked over to him, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Mallory had a doctor’s appointment.” Luke responded, now waiting for you to reply.

“Josh left for his family trip yesterday.” You explained to him while zipping your bag, “How have you been Lukey?”

He chuckled, following you towards the exit, “I’ve been good, I’m excited that it’s almost summer.”

“Me too,” You grinned at him, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm, “Any plans this summer? I’m assuming you have hockey camp like always?”

“You know it,” Luke’s eyes softening slightly at you remembering, “And we’re going to the lake house for the whole summer when Quinn flys back on Saturday.”

“That’s so exciting!” You bumping your shoulder to his, “How have you and Mallory been?”

“Good, she’s really great…” Luke paused before letting out a small sigh, “I’m sorry that we haven’t been hanging out and for me kinda ditching you for her.”

You waved your hand off, falling into your typical easy going mood, “Don’t worry about it! I know you have my back even if we don’t talk every day.”

Relief washed over his face, “Okay good, I was worried you were pissed off at me or something.”

“No, never! Besides I’ve been busy with Josh and being around him all the time, so you also have the opportunity to be mad at me.” You told him, “Are you mad at me?”

“At you?” He questioned, “Never.”

The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. You reached the street intersection, both pausing momentarily,

“I would invite you over, mom has been asking about you and it’s been so long but you know…” Luke mumbled, “Mal wouldn’t be too happy.”

You gave him an understanding look, “Don’t worry, it’s not just Mallory who wouldn’t be happy about us hanging out.” You chuckled, referring to your protective boyfriend, “If I don’t see you before school ends, I hope you have a great summer, Lukey.”

He gives you a sad smile, “Thanks, Y/N. I hope you have a good summer too.”

You give him another short glance before heading your way back home. You hadn’t realized how much you missed Luke and hanging out with him. A sigh escaped your lips as you adjust the straps on your shoulders.

Luke watched you from his spot on the corner, seeing you slowly walk away to the direction of your home. In the similar head space, he wondered what happened to your friendship. Curious if neither of you were to be in a relationship, if you two would be heading towards his house in routine. He liked Mallory, of course he did. Though he somewhat hated that it was at the cost of your friendship. Luke knew that at the end of the day, you were always there for him — similar to how you acknowledged knowing that he had your back. He missed you nonetheless, he missed your random questions and the comfort of being in your solace.

He resented Josh, how he now had your full attention at all times. Luke would never say it out loud but he didn’t think Josh deserved you. He barely knew the lacrosse athlete but something about the way Josh carried himself, he knew something was off about him. Luke had just yet to put his finger on it.

Luke went home to see Jack already lounging on the couch, barely paying attention to the game on the screen and was much more interested in his phone.

“Hey Lukey,” Jack called out to his brother, Luke only mumbled a minimal response, “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” Luke sighed, grabbing his Gatorade bottle from the sleeve of his backpack and plopping into the empty spot next to the seventeen year old.

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at Luke’s behaviour, “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with Lukey?” A voice asked, Quinn poking his head from the hall and entering the living room.

Luke’s head snapped up, breaking his focus on his water bottle, at his eldest brother’s voice, “What the hell?” Luke letting out a shocked chuckle, “What are you doing here, Q? I thought you were flying in on Saturday?”

Quinn grinned, pulling up Luke by his arm and hugging him, “Glad to know you missed me too.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Luke replied, embracing Quinn, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I got an earlier flight last minute,” He explained to the youngest Hughes, pulling away so the three brothers could sit. Quinn taking the single seater next to the couch, “What’s going on with you?”

Luke shrugged, knowing that he couldn’t lie to both of his brothers, “I don’t even know, it’s just Mallory doesn’t like me hanging out with Y/N.”

“Y/N, that’s the girl who’s been helping you with school?” Quinn asked, making sure he was understanding Luke’s situation properly.

Jack nodded, “Yeah, she’s really cool. I’ve met her a few times. She’d been helping Lukey with school, his grades have never been better.”

“Is she like your tutor?”

“No,” Luke shook his head, shifting further into his seat, “She became one of my best friends. She’s got like photographic memory, so she is really good at helping me with staying on top of everything.”

Quinn smiled, “You’re pretty lucky to have her then.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Q,” Jack said, catching his attention, “Y/N is cute too. She’s got that whole happy-go-lucky personality, Mom loves her too.”

“Oh really?” Quinn, raising his brows, “What, so you like her, J?”

Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I wouldn’t date one of his friends, relax dude.”

The eldest brother rolled his eyes in amusement, knowing that Y/N being Luke’s friend was probably the only reason stopping Jack from shooting his shot. He turned his attention back to Luke, who was still slumping,

“How’s it like being with Mallory?” He asked, changing the subject slightly, “Mom mentioned her once or twice to me, saying something about wanting to meet her.”

“Yeah, is she coming to the lake with us?” Jack added, shifting his posture to face Luke, “I haven’t even met your girlfriend yet, why’s that?”

“I dunno,” Luke sighed, moving his hand to play with the curls at the back of his head, “She hasn’t told her parents yet about us dating and wants to wait to meet everyone until she tells them.”

“Oh,” Jack’s eyes widened, “She’s one of those girls… Didn’t you say she was pretty popular too?”

Luke shrugged, “Guess so.”

“Mhm, one of those girls,” Jack chuckled, leaning back and using one of his arms as a makeshift cushion for his head, “I wish you good luck, solider.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying, those girls have been trouble every time I’ve got mixed in with them,” Jack reasoned with his hands raised in surrender, “I, personally, would rather go for a girl like Y/N. She’s smart, she’s nice, friendly, sweet, and she’s pretty.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on Lukey’s best friend,” Quinn’s eyes having a glint of his teasing manner that matched his tone, “Is Y/N coming up to the lake house with us?”

“I didn’t ask her,” Luke told his brothers.

Jack pouted, “Why?”

“She’s probably headed to Toronto this summer.”

Quinn sat up, “Toronto?”

“Yeah, duel citizenship or something. Her mom is Canadian.” Luke said, like it was the most obvious answer.

“Even better, no wonder why she’s so nice! She’s Canadian!” Jack exclaimed, “What are you now going to tell me that she likes the Leafs too?”

Judging off the look Luke gave Jack, his eyes widened, “So, she’s perfect is what you’re saying!”

“Jack” Luke groaned, “Shut up dude.”

“How did you fumble that?!” Jack asked exacerbated, shaking his head as he adjusted the hat on his head, “It’s like you don’t listen to my advice when it comes to girls.”

Quinn, seeing Luke’s face, rolled his eyes, “Alright Rowdy, leave him alone.”

“She’s literally just my friend,” Luke told him, “She has boyfriend too, he’s obsessed with her.”

Jack mumbled something amongst the lines of ‘rightfully so’ under his breath. Eventually going back to his phone.

“So it’s just gonna be Caufield and Z this summer?” Quinn questioned, the middle brother nodding, “It’ll be good.”

Summer turned out great for the Hughes family lake house. The boys all enjoyed going out of the boat, wake surfing, swimming, and drinking then coming back to house in the late afternoon to shoot pool. It was their annual boys trip, taking the time to be around their friends and family while also enjoying off season. They would drive to the nearby arena to practice on days with Jimmy coaching them. Often spending the morning in the makeshift gym in their garage to get a workout in.

You on the other hand, decided to take some summer classes to get ahead on course credits — flying through the material. You also enjoyed working at the local coffee shop, gotten to meet new people and becoming friends with your regulars. Besides, it never hurt to have some extra money in your pocket. Josh came back from his month long trip, revolving around visiting his family, sometime towards the end of July. You two would hang out whenever you weren’t working. Spending time in your home, cuddling on the coach or in your bed, watching movies at the neighborhood drive in, and occasionally going up to his friends’ lake house on some weekends.

It was a productive summer overall, you couldn’t really complain. Hours on your resume plus seeing your boyfriend every day. You loved it. The only thing that was keeping getting under your skin was Josh hinting towards the two of you having yet to sleep together. You were freshly sixteen and you didn’t feel ready yet, you felt too young and you didn’t want to make a decision that you might regret.

Although you hid this from him and everyone else, deep down you wanted your first to be with someone you loved. Someone that you genuinely cared deeply about and had that connection with. It had to be with the right person. He told you he loved you, how he’ll never leave you, and that he wanted to marry you. Josh was nice, he was your boyfriend and you cared about him — but did you love him? You weren’t exactly certain about that yet. You didn’t feel the magnetic pull or the connection that you wanted for your first time. It was also too early, you’d only been together for about five months and dating for almost four of those months.

So, you kept brushing it off every time it was brought up: you had work later, you’re too tired, you didn’t feel well, your head hurt, your parents were on the way home, you’re on your period. The excuses kept coming. Even if you didn’t acknowledge it in your head, but the underlying fact was, you were not going to sleep with Josh.

“I have work tomorrow and I want to get a good night sleep.” You told your boyfriend, who was relaxed on the couch with an arm resting behind you, “I start early.”

“But baby it could help you sleep,” He replied, placing a tender kiss on your lips, “Your parents aren’t even home tonight.”

“I know but I’ve been exhausted from work.”

Josh gave you a small understanding smile, his lips forming into a straight line, “Alright babe, it’s okay.”

You kissed him again, your fingers playing with his dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck, “Sorry baby.”

“I think I should head home then.” He sighed, standing up and stretching his shoulders, “You should get that sleep you’ve been waiting for.”

Your face faltered for a brief second, “Yeah okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Josh only shrugged, “Maybe, might go hang out with the boys.”

He left soon after, leaving you alone in your home. You sighed, heading to your bathroom to shower and start getting ready for bed. The soft scent of strawberries filled the steamy bathroom as you shampooed your hair. The hot water running over your body as you stood under the stream. Your head was hurting, full of anxious thoughts and energy from Josh’s recent behaviour. You gave him the benefit of the doubt that this was just a phase he was going through. That he would eventually drop it and the two of you could continue on without the silent tension that existed between you. You didn’t know how long you stood under the shower head, before deciding to step out. The soft material of your towel patting down your skin before you applied your vanilla body lotion everywhere.

You relaxed in your bed, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire playing on your TV screen as you scrolled through your phone. Unexpectedly, you received a call which you picked up after the first ring,

“Hello?” You asked, still confused from the caller id.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi Lukey,” You said, fully aware that he could likely hear the smile through your voice, “How’s the lake house treating you?”

His voice was low and had a slight tinge to it, “Mallory and I broke up.”

You paused, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

There was some heavy breathing from his end, you knew that this must’ve just happened. You could hear some rustling, assuming that Luke was settling into his bed or the couch by the sounds of it.

“I- uh, I don’t even know.” He sighed, “She just called me and said she found someone new.” His voice breaking towards the end of his sentence before he cleared his throat.

You knew he was either on the verge of tears or was already crying, and your heart broke for the boy, “Oh, Luke…”

“Just wanted to talk to you,” Luke mumbled, “I hope I’m not keeping you or your parents awake by calling you.”

You chuckled lightly, classic Luke always so considerate, “No, not at all. I’m home alone and just watching a movie.”

“No Josh?”

“No, he left an hour or so ago.” You told him, shuffling down to lay on your back with your phone to your ear still.

Luke hummed, “How are you guys doing?”

He could hear you hesitate and how the air hitched in your throat, “G- Good. We’re fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Trying to keep up with the somewhat lie, before deciding that it was only Luke and you could tell him the truth, “Well maybe a bit rocky right now.”

You imagine him having an expression of confusion mixed with some curiosity, “Why’s that?”

“He keeps bringing up the idea of us sleeping together,” You told him, cringing slightly at your own words, “And I keep giving him excuses to not.”

“Sleeping together? Why wouldn’t you? I guess unless your parents don’t like you two sharing a bed?”

You laugh lightly at his innocence in that moment, “No, not like that sleeping together. Like the, having sex, type of sleeping together… Sorry if that’s TMI. And he’s just kinda gets upset everytime I make up an excuse.”

“He’s trying to sleep with you?”

“He’s just been asking about it,” You shuffle deeper into your blankets, “You make it sound bad when you say it like that.”

Luke lets out a brief scoff, a combination of disbelief and a pinch of frustration, “Is it not though? He should’ve just backed off after you told him no.”

“I think it’s just because his friends have been talking about losing their virginities. Can we just talk about something else? Please?”

“Yeah okay,” Luke replied, voice bland, “Just don’t do it because you feel pressured or anything, it’s not worth it.”

You sighed, knowing your best friend was in the right, “Yeah, I know.”

Luke sank further into his own bed, staring out the window as he spoke to you over the phone. He watched how the moonlight danced over the lake and how the stars twinkled in the night sky. He could hear the distant conversations between his brothers downstairs, not paying much attention to the conversation he was missing out on. Luke felt the strange surge of emotion that bubbled in his gut when you mentioned that your boyfriend was constantly asking you about sex. He knew that you were capable of making your own decisions, but it didn’t wave the bad feeling he felt.

School started, the warm September air with its nibble of the Fall breeze in the mornings. Luke had a few classes with you, allowing you to sit with your best friend — without worrying about Josh getting upset over it. Josh was very pleased to hear that Luke would be away all summer. He wasn’t the most keen of you two hanging out, having to ask you to spend less time with Luke and more time with your boyfriend. You promising Josh that you saw Luke as only a classmate, even if that wasn’t necessarily the truth.

You found yourself at a party on a Friday night, mainly because it was Josh who was hosting it. The entire junior and senior year were invited to it. A red solo cup in your hand, cradling it close to your body. Josh stayed right next to you, his hand dipping lower than your waist to squeeze your ass every so often. He kept you no further than an arm lengths away as he talked to his teammates around the pong table. Josh was a couple drinks deep, on occasion his words would slur.

Luke walked into the space with two of his own teammates from the school hockey team. His eyes landed on you, widening at the sight of you wearing a short skirt and a pink tank top. You gave him a small smile as he looked over to you while getting himself a drink.

He looked good. He always did. He wore a flannel over his grey hoodie and a baseball cap over his head of curls. He laughed at whatever his friends said to him, making you wish you were next to Luke at this party rather than Josh.

Josh’s hand toyed with the bottom of your shirt, “Hi baby.” He said to you, his eyes scanning over your figure, “Did I tell you that you look so hot tonight.”

Your cheeks heated up, “Thank you, baby.”

His lips landed on yours, kissing you passionately and pulling your body closer to his front. You kissed him back, placing your hands on the back of his neck. His arms wrapping tightly around your middle as he groaned into the kiss.

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” He whispered into your ear before kissing your jaw, “Don’t know if I want everyone here to watch us make out.”

You giggled, moving your head to give him more access, “Okay.”

Josh pulled away, looking at you. His pupils were dilated and were a bit glassy from the alcohol coursing through his body. His words were slurring together but other than that, he didn’t seem super drunk, “Okay, I’ll go up first and you come a few minutes after?”

You nodded before kissing him quickly, he grinned at you before walking away towards his room. You headed towards the kitchen to get yourself another drink. Weaving through the few bodies to reach the vodka bottle. You poured a bit of the alcohol into your cup before adding juice to it.

“Hey,” You looked to your side to see Luke there.

“Hi Luke,” You said to him, taking a long sip of your drink. Your face cringing slightly at the strong taste of the liqueur that burned the back of your throat.

He moved closer to your side, to hear you over the loud noises, “Where did Josh go?”

You pointed upstairs before giggling, curtesy to being tipsy leaning into your drunken state, “I’m meeting him up there soon.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Three? This is my fourth,” You told him, slurring your words slightly, “Or maybe my fifth. I forgot.”

Luke’s face now wore a small frown, “Are you drunk?”

“Me?!” You exclaimed, your voice louder than you were expecting it to be, “No, I’m not drunk.”

“You’re slurring your words.” He stated, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

You huffed, slamming your cup onto the table, “I can do what I want.”

“I didn’t say that,” Luke sighed, “I’m just saying…”

“No.” You interrupted him, putting your finger into his face, “You just want to ruin my fun because Mallory broke up with you.”

You knew that you shouldn’t have said that. The air around you two thickened as you both paused. Your head felt like it was pulsing from the warmth of alcohol in your body. You didn’t even mean to say that, the words coming out of your mouth faster than you could process them. You cursed yourself mentally for saying something like that to Luke, who was only just standing next to you. You saw his face falter at you, an expression of hurt washing over his features for a brief moment before his masked it.

“Alright,” He mumbled, stepping away from you.

“I should go.” You sighed, moving past him. His hand wrapped around your wrist. Your skin tingled at his touch and a shiver ran down your spine. You glanced down at his hand holding you and back up to his face.

His eyes softened when your eyes connected, “Don’t have sex with him while you’re drunk.”

“Luke,”

“Promise me that you won’t.” He said gently, don’t daring to break the eye contact. You stared into his eyes, seeing the silent pleading behind them,

“Okay.”

Luke’s eyes darted over your face before he released your wrist from his hold. He watched as you made your way towards the staircase, seeing you glance over to him one last time before disappearing to the second floor of the house. He looked at his barely touched can, deciding to throw it out. He wasn’t in the mood anymore. Luke rejoined his friends, hoping to take his mind off the fact that his drunk best friend was upstairs in a room with her boyfriend — the boyfriend that kept giving him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey dude, you good?” Dylan asked the boy, giving him a gentle nudge. Luke snapped out of his daze,

“Yeah man, I’m good.” Luke nodded, giving Dylan a tight lipped smile, “Probably gonna head out in a bit, practice in the morning.”

Luke felt conflicted, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave or stay at the party. Part of him didn’t want to stick around, knowing you were upstairs with Josh but the other part of him wanted to stay because you were upstairs with Josh. What if you needed him and he wasn’t there?

He eventually decided on leaving, Jack coming to pick him up, “How was it?”

Luke shrugged, closing the car door and tilting his back against the headrest, “Can we just go home?”

“That bad?” Jack laughed, “I thought you said Y/N was gonna be here?”

“She was.” Luke mumbled while Jack started to drive, “She left with her boyfriend.”

Jack glanced over to his brother, giving him a knowing look. He expected that Luke had feelings for his best friend, it was hard not to like the girl. She was sweet, easygoing, and she was cute. With Luke freshly out of a relationship, Jack expected him to be a lot more down but it seemed as though having Y/N around kept Luke occupied. Jack opted to not say anything more to his younger brother.

Luke kept his distance from you a few days following the party, he wasn’t sure when and why his emotions towards you changed. He avoided your eye contact in class, answering your questions with short and bland sentences, and immediately leaving once the lesson ended. You sighed, closing your notebook as Luke had once again scrambled out of the classroom. You put your things into your bag before slinging a strap over your shoulders.

When you left the room, you spotted Josh leaning against the nearby lockers. You sharply inhaled at the sight of him, mentally groaning of his presence. It’s not that you were upset that he was waiting for you, per se… It just felt like as of recently, the two of you weren’t on the same page anymore. He was insistent on losing his virginity to you, talking about another one of his teammates losing theirs, and how he loved you so much and is wanting to take the next step with you. You on the other hand, would just brush off his words — you didn’t want this. He didn’t seem to understand either, which was the worst part. You often got to take your mind off of your crumbling relationship by hanging out with Luke during classes, but with him ignoring you lately, you didn’t get that either.

“Hi baby,” Josh grinned, immediately slithering an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest and attempted to kiss you.

“Josh, I told you not at school.” You scolded him, pushing him away, “You can do that after school, just not here.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes, “Oh come on, everyone already knows we’re together.”

“I don’t care,” You scoffed, already walking towards your next class, “I don’t like PDA and not everyone wants to see us making out in the hallways.”

Josh was right behind you, “Who cares what people think? I think it’s hot as fuck.” He smirked, his hands once again on your hips.

“Josh, please.” You sighed, brushing his hands off of you. He looked at you, almost with a smidge of disgust or maybe disappointment. You avoid his eye, looking anywhere but at him.

“Fine, have a good class.”

You let out a breath of relief as he turned around sharply, disappearing into the crowd of teenagers in the school hallways. You tightened your grip on your backpack strap, and tilting your head against the wall.

“You okay?” Glancing back towards the voice, you see Luke’s friend Dylan standing in front of you with concern over his features. You slowly nod,

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You told him, hoping that he’ll drop it. Dylan was nice, typical hockey player guy, but he had good intentions. Besides, he knew you were Luke’s best friend so nothing he did was with malicious intent.

“Okay…” Dylan said, still somewhat suspicious, “I’m here if you wanna talk though, Lukey too.”

“Thanks,” You replied, giving a tight smile, “How’s your hockey season going?”

He beamed at the mention of his sport, going onto talking your ear off about the most recent game as the two of you walked into your next class. You tried your best to keep up, but it was hard when you were thinking about Josh. You weren’t sure if you still wanted to be with him, you didn’t think relationships were supposed to be like this. Granted, this was your first 'official' relationship. You've had crushes in the past, been in a few talking stages, but at the end of the day — you were too much of a sweetheart and no guy wanted to be the one to break a sweet girl's heart. You and Dylan eventually make it to your biology class, sitting towards the back of the class waiting for the lesson to start. Luke walked in, right before the bell, plopping into the empty seat next to you. He gave Dylan a single nod before glancing at you,

"Hi Luke." You greeted, a warm smile on your face.

"Hey." He replied, rather plainly before shuffling through his bag for his notes. You wondered if something had happened at the party that caused him to act like this, the fact that you also didn't remember much of the party wasn't much help either. Waking up the next day with a raging migraine was a strong indicator of the amount of alcohol you consumed.

He continued to keep to himself, keeping himself occupied with the starting hockey season. The pressure was on with Jack officially playing for the Devils, and knowing that there were scouts from various colleges that were watching him play. Luke dived deep into his training, ensuring that he was eating and sleeping properly, and always coming early and staying later at practices. Quinn had teased Luke about his recent dedication to hockey as a response to being broken up with, calling it forbidden motivation. Luke only brushing off his brother's comments.

Luke wouldn't lie if he was asked whether he missed Y/N, of course he did. He was a smart person though, he knew he would only cause issues between you and your... boyfriend, if he continued to stick around. Plus you seemed happy, including how you was acting around him at that party.

But Luke didn't know about your second thoughts on your relationship with Josh, Luke didn't know that you weren't exactly happy with the lacrosse player.

"Luke!" You called out after him, seeing him a few feet ahead of you on the side walk. He paused in his steps, looking over his shoulder to see you jogging behind him,

"Oh hi, Y/N."

The two of you fell into a comfortable pace as you walked home from school, "Have you been avoiding me?"

"What?"

You chuckled, putting your AirPods back into their case, "I mean it feels like you're ignoring me, you barely even talk to me in class anymore."

He let out a sheepish laugh, running his fingers through his curls, "I've just been busy with hockey."

"Oh okay... So it wasn't because of what I did at that party a month ago?"

"No, I don't care about that. I know you didn't mean that and I don't care if you slept with him. It's not my business." Luke shrugged, still not looking at you even though you kept your focus on him.

"I didn't sleep with him." You told him, "I haven't yet."

"Good for you?"

"Luke..." You sighed, tugging at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, "C'mon, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing, I swear." He huffed, placing his hat back on his head, "Sorry, I have to go. I have practice."

You watched as he turned at the streetlight, making his way back to his house. You frowned at your interaction with him, still unsure of what was causing the distance between you and Luke.

It was now the weekend before Christmas break and you were yet again at another party. One of Josh's teammates was hosting it and it was packed in the small house. You came a bit later than most of the crowd, given that you had an afternoon shift at your job. You walked in, wearing a tight long sleeve with baggy jeans. Josh was nowhere to be found, so you decided to get yourself a drink.

You grabbed a cooler and poured yourself a double shot, you had to catch up to everyone else — who were all clearly intoxicated. You brought the shot glass to your lips, cringing at the strong taste of vodka running down your throat.

"Hey," Luke said to you, grabbing a beer for himself, "I didn't think I would see you here."

"Hi Luke," You give the boy a smile, "I didn't think that you would be here, given your hockey schedule."

He chuckled, "Yeah, practice was cancelled for tomorrow morning so Dylan asked me to show up."

"How have you been? Are Jack and Quinn coming back for Christmas?" You asked him while sipping from your cooler.

"Yeah, Quinn came back last night, Jack is in Jersey until Christmas. He has a Christmas game." He explained, "I've been alright though, sorry again for ignoring you, I was just going through some stuff."

"It's okay, I get it." You replied, a part of you sad that he was going through stuff and wasn't able to talk to you about it, "I'm here for you if you ever want to talk."

"Thanks. When do you leave for Toronto?" Luke bumping his shoulder against yours. You giggle, already feeling the effects from the two shots kicking in,

"The 26th."

"Y/N!" You and Luke's head snap to the shouting of your boyfriend’s voice, to see Josh leaning against the doorway. You could tell by the way he was standing and the look on his face that he was drunk, "What are you doing?"

You feel your shoulders drop, "Sorry, I was just getting a drink and catching up with Luke."

"Come on baby, let's go upstairs." He slurred, grabbing your arm rather harshly and pulling you behind him. You winced at the aggression, bowing your head as you followed him. You looked past your shoulder to see that Luke had pushed himself off of his leaning position against the counter, as Josh dragged you away.

"Not while you're drunk." He told you, though it was mainly you reading his lips due to the loud music. You nodded, "I know."

Luke couldn't shake the weird feeling building in his gut as he watched you get pulled away from your boyfriend. It was chewing him apart as he stood in his spot, contemplating of his next moves. He hesitated for a moment before he decided to go after you. Luke didn’t like how Josh had grabbed you and knowing that you were intoxicated.

“Hughes, where are you going?” Dylan called out after Luke, “Dude!”

Dylan, more inclined to get Luke towards the pong table followed after the taller boy. Luke’s feet led his way as he was still trapped in his own head, his feet carrying him up the steps when his blood went cold. He could hear your voice, your scared voice behind the door.

“J- Josh! Stop!” He heard you cry, “Get off!”

“Is that?” Dylan paused, glancing over at his friend.

Luke’s facial expression hardened before he used his shoulder to forcefully open the closed door, “What the hell is going on here?” He demanded, not thinking twice of his actions before approaching Josh and pulling him off of you.

“What the fuck man?!” Josh snapped, venom in his voice as he glared at the hockey player, “This isn’t a fucking gang bang!”

In front of him, there was you. You never looked so terrified in your life. Your hands were clutching onto your shirt, trembling. Your eyes were brimmed with tears.

“Get the hell away from her.” Luke told Josh, stepping towards him. Luke had a few inches over the lacrosse player, “Dylan, take Y/N.”

Dylan immediately darted towards you, his arms protecting you, “You’re okay, you’re safe. We got you.” He whispered into your ear as he pulled you away from the bed and into the hall. You were violently shaking in his arms while he guided you outside the house.

He continued his attempts to calm you down, though appreciated, you wanted your best friend.

You don’t know how long you and Dylan were outside, he had guided you towards a more quiet area near his car. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your chest felt hot with the adrenaline and alcohol circling in your system. You kept running your hands over each other, attempting to crack your fingers to sooth the anxiety surging in your veins.

Luke eventually walked outside, clearly still heated from the way his legs carried his body. He was glancing at his knuckles, stretching out his fingers and shaking out his hand. His eyes landed on you and his pace immediately picked up to a jog,

“Oh, Y/N…” He breathed out, opening his arms out for you.

You met him halfway, colliding your body into his — allowing for his strong arms to wrap around you like a shield. His scent, the woodsy musk with a tinge of mint, embedded in his clothes comforting you like a warm blanket. You could feel him place a kiss on the top of your hair when you choked on a few sobs,

“I got you.” He reassured, holding onto your smaller frame, “He’s never going to touch you or ever come near you again.”

“L- Luke,” You whimpered, peering up from his chest to look at him. His entire face softened at your tear stained cheeks, his thumb carefully brushing away your tears.

“I’m right here, sweet girl.” He told you, “I’m right here.”

Dylan had gotten into the car that he and Luke drove in to the party, Dylan also being the designated driver for the night. Luke held you in his arms until you seemed to calm down slightly, no longer crying nor shaking. He carefully helped you into the backseats, without a doubt sliding into the seat next to you.

The drive was silent, the occasional sniffle from you while you rested your head on Luke’s shoulder. He kept an arm around you the entire drive,

“Is your home okay?” He asked you, his tone gentle as ever while brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

“I don’t want to be alone.” You choked out. Luke immediately nodded, “It’s okay, you can stay at mine if that’s okay with you.”

You gave him a small smile.

Dylan dropped the two of you at Luke’s house, “Let me know if either of you need anything.” Dylan said to Luke as you two climbed out of the car, “I mean it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke replied, draping his flannel over your shoulders, “Thanks man.”

“No need to thank me.”

You mumbled out a quiet ‘thank you’ to Dylan before Luke led you to his home. He retrieve a few bottles of water from the kitchen before the two of you made his way to his room. You sat on his bed, focused on your lap while he pulled out a shirt and spare boxers for you.

“Do you want a hoodie?” He asked you, looking over at your saddened position. Luke knelt down to your level, taking your hands into his, “It’s over now. I promise I won’t let him ever come near you.”

“Luke,” You breathed out, noticing his already bruising hand, “Your knuckles…”

His gaze dropped from you to his hand, the dried blood over the swelling skin, “It’s not my blood, don’t worry.”

You eventually made your way to his bathroom, where he left the clothes and a clean towel on the counter. The hot water from the shower head ran over your cold skin, the feeling of his hands ghosting over your body. You tried scrubbing away the feeling again and again and again with Luke’s body wash; tears threatening to fall yet again as the skin turned red from irritation.

His clothes were warm when you slipped them on. They smelt so distinctly like Luke. You made your way back to his room where he was lounging on his bed with his pajamas on. His eyes glancing at the redness of your arms from the excessive force you used whilst washing yourself.

“Come,” He invited you, patting on the empty space of the bed. You crawled up to him, curling into a small ball before he handed you his favourite UMich hoodie, “Here’s a hoodie for you.”

You gave him a little smile while you pulled it on. The edges of the sleeves were thinning from the amount of wear and the drawstrings were tied into a small ball. It was well worn and a few sizes too big but it was perfect.

“Are you feeling a bit better? No, sorry that was a stupid fucking question,” Luke quickly apologized, his hand already going to play with your hair in a comforting manner, “Did the shower help at least?”

You hummed out a response, inching closer to him on the bed. He had your favourite Disney movie already on his TV, quietly playing. Luke adjusted the comforter over the two of you, allowing you to relax further into the bed as the two of you watched the film in a peaceful silence.

Your eyes got heavier and it was harder to keep them open as the exhaustion from the night was getting to you. Luke seemed to notice, “Let me know when you wanna sleep, I’ll head to Jack’s room or something.”

You poked your head up from the makeshift pillow of his chest at his sentence, “Can you stay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You confirmed, watching a content expression wash over his face, “Plus, you’re comfy and warm.”

“I’m glad that I’m at least good for one thing.” He chuckled, snuggling his head into his pillow once he knew that he didn’t have to move for the night.

You sighed, content for the first time since leaving the party. You knew you were perfectly safe when you were with Luke. You allowed your eyes to close, your breathing slowing to a relaxed and calm pace. His arm still around you while you used him as your pillow, tucking your body into his side.

Luke replayed what he saw from that room, from how scared you looked to when he shoved Josh against the wall before finally punching him in the face repeatedly. It was completely out of character for Luke to pick a fight, a physical fist fight. But he would do it for you, any day. Josh had no right to be that close to you, to scare you to the verge of tears. Luke felt himself slowly get more upset the more he thought about the situation, but he felt you shift against him. He looked down to see you, cuddled up against his body.

He smiled as he looked down at your figure, carefully using the remote to turn off his TV and grateful for having longer limbs to reach over to shut off his lamp. The room fell into darkness as he settled for sleep.

“Thank you Lukey,” You mumbled against the material of his shirt, “For everything.”

His heart swelled.

“I’ll always be there for you.” Luke whispered into your hair, planting a soft kiss against your forehead, “No matter what.”

And he was. He stayed glued to your side, whether it be physically or theoretically — due to the both of you separating for winter break. Luke texted you constantly, occasionally calling you in the evenings. When school started again in January, he didn’t leave your side. He waited for you at the street intersection every morning, so the two of you could walk the rest of the distance together. Josh only attempted to talk to you twice, which Luke and Dylan were immediately able to shut him down. Not even giving the lacrosse player a chance to even look at you. Luke would hang around you between classes and during lunch, slowly but surely falling back into your old routine.

Lunches spent in vacant classrooms to complete homework assignments together, going over to his house after school until he had to leave for practice. In which he would always drop you off at home, since he didn’t feel comfortable with you walking back. Sometimes you would go to his practices to do your homework in the stands, or just to simply watch him play the game he loved so much.

You were healing.

Luke was helping you heal.

He kept you company by staying on FaceTime on the nights that were harder for you. You two wouldn’t even be talking, just having each other propped up on the screen as you did different things. On some nights, he would drive to your house to pick you up — the two of you going on long drives with no destination in mind. Aimlessly driving down different roads, making turns here and there. His country playlist that you’ve grown to love so much would be humming in the background as the two of you would park in the middle of nowhere to talk. Even though you two were conjoined at the hip everyday, you both had endless things to talk about. It was so easy, it came so easy.

He would show up to your house every Saturday night with his Nike backpack filled with snacks for your movie nights. You two would lay on your bed comfortably, with a random movie or hockey game on the TV. Luke would have a lazy arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side, both of you cracking small jokes or commentating whatever was playing.

Sunday afternoons were reserved for finishing any leftover homework or class notes in the Hughes kitchen. The two of you would sit at the dinner table, writing away in your notebooks. Ellen would bring you two water or snacks on occasion, and remind you two to take breaks. During those breaks, Luke would often drag you to basement to try to teach you hockey. You weren’t great but it was fun to try, and it was better since you could physically see how much fun it was for him. He would wear a constant bright smile and laugh at your attempts to shoot a goal.

Luke Hughes was easily your favourite person, he was your favourite player on the ice. You wouldn’t miss a single game. You would sit next to Ellen and Jim in the stands, an old blanket draped across you and Ellen’s laps. He would wave at you from the ice each time he skated by.

Junior year had its highs and lows but it was by far your favourite so far. There was an end of year party that was coming up and Dylan had been begging you and Luke to go with him.

“Please! Everyone is going, we should definitely go.” Dylan explained to the two of you, “It’s the last one of junior year.”

“I don’t know,” Luke sighed, leaning back in his chair and placing his pencil down, “These parties are always so ass.”

You laughed at Luke’s comment, “I mean, if you really want us to be there Dyl, then I’m sure we can go.” You glanced over at the curly headed boy, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“See! Y/N knows what fun is!” Dylan exclaimed, “Come on Hughesy, worse case if you leave early.”

“Fine.” Luke huffed, straightening his posture, “We’ll go but I’m not drinking.”

“All good with me!” Dylan chuckled, “More for me.”

You, Dylan, and Luke all entered the house together, weaving through the bodies in the hallway to reach the main area of the house. Dylan had immediately gone towards the fridge to get a drink. You survey the crowd, trying to pin point people that you know. Luke stayed next to you, with a light hand on your lower back as the two of you weaved through the drunk teenagers.

You greeted a few people that you knew as you passed by, them being a bit too intoxicated to say anything more than a "hey!". There were people dancing in the middle of the living room, the neon colours from the LED lights flashing, and the music from the speakers pounding your eardrums.

"Did you want something to drink?" He asked into your ear, his posture slouched to near your height. You shrugged, "I'll start drinking in a bit."

You pulled Luke towards a more empty area, where the two of you could stand whilst leaning against the wall. Dylan had eventually found you both, him handing you a Twisted Tea which you thanked him for before cracking the tab open.

"I want to dance." You told the boys, "And I will need another drink."

"Sure, go have fun!" Dylan exclaimed, "We'll keep an eye on you if you want."

"Don't you want to dance too?" You questioned, finishing the rest of your drink.

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Since when have we ever danced at a party?"

You giggled, slowly pulling away from the two, "You can always join me!" You sang out.

"Have fun Y/N!"

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you spun on your heels to grab another cooler. There were a few girls from your English class that you chatted with while finishing your second drink, which the four of you had agreed to take a celebratory shot of tequila for finishing the semester — before you all made your way towards the group of dancing teens. The alcohol was flowing through your body, allowing you to feel the rhythm of the music and move your hips along to it.

"You are the coolest and nicest girl in our year, Y/N!" One girl, Abby, exclaimed with her voice loud to over come the volume of the music, "Like, seriously girl! You're so smart and you're so fun!"

"No literally!" Sarah laughed, placing a hand on your arm, "Like you're so popular but so humble about it! You literally have every boy on their knees for you. Josh completely fumbled with you!"

You let out a small chuckle, attempting to ignore your ex-boyfriend's mention, "I'm not popular, I just try to be nice to everyone!"

You weren't sure how much time had passed nor the number of drinks you've had since you had originally arrived at the party, but between the drinking, socializing, and dancing — you were feeling the exhaustion creeping up on you. You bid the girls a quick goodbye before excusing yourself, pulling away from the crowd. You searched the room for the tall curly headed boy, sighing happily once seeing him against the door frame with an easy smile drawn on his features.

When his eyes landed on you approaching him, his entire face lit up as he tightened the lid of the plastic water bottle. Luke's eyes darted from one of his friends and back towards you. He lifted his arm up, allowing you to tuck yourself into his side. Your smaller figure fit perfectly under his arm, you leaned your head against his chest as he continued chatting with Dylan and their other friends.

"Hey Lukey," You said to the boy, tilting your head upwards to making eye contact with him.

"Hey you," Luke chuckled, brushing a lone strand of hair out of your face, "Did you have fun, drunkie?"

"I'm not drunk." You mumbled into his sweater, "Just had a few drinks."

He hummed, "Yeah, I saw you hammer out those three cans of Mikes and down a few shots with the girls — definitely not drunk." Luke teased, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just getting sleepy."

"Hey Dyl, we're heading out now. You need a ride?" Luke asked Dylan, who was still engaged in conversation. Dylan waved him off, saying something about either finding a ride or taking an uber home later.

Luke kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guided you out of the house party and towards his car that was parked a little ways away from the party.

"You looked like you enjoyed the party." He told you, supporting your body while you stumbled in your steps.

"Yes! I saw so many people we knew!" You giggled, leaning further into Luke's body.

Luke chuckled, pulling your body to keep you upwards, "You gotta keep standing upright to walk, sweet girl. Keep leaning into me and you're going to be sideways."

"What's the matter with that?"

"We gotta make it to the car." He said back, "We're almost there."

You let out a dramatic sigh, "Can't you carry me? You're strong from hockey and I'm tired."

"The car is right there." Luke laughed, pointing at his car ahead of you.

"Why are you laughing at me?" You whined.

He rolled his eyes at your drunken state, "Not laughing at you, I promise. Come on."

Luke opened the passage side door for you, you climbed into the seat with both of your legs hanging out of the vehicle. He carefully readjusted your body to slide your legs into the car. His hands brushing over your front as he fastened your seatbelt, "You comfy?" He teased as you rested your head on your hand that was propped up on the centre console.

"Mhm, I like this car." You yawned.

Luke placed a light kiss on the top of your hair, "Alright, let's get you home."

He closed your door and slide into the driver's seat, "You wanted something to eat?" Luke asked you as he pulled away from the curb.

"Oo! Can we get McDonald's? I want nuggets so bad!" You exclaimed, immediately sitting up in your seat.

He laughed, lightly pushing you back into your seat, "Okay, we can get food and then I'll drop you off."

Luke pulled into the drive through at the 24-hour McDonald's, ordering your go to along with a Dr. Pepper for himself. He paid for your food, handing you the brown paper bag. He parked his car in the empty lot to let you eat.

You excitedly opened up your box of nuggets along with the sauce, you nearly letting out a moan of satisfaction when taking your first bite, "You're the best, Lukey."

"Oh yeah?" He said while taking a sip of his drink, "You're saying that because I bought you food."

"No, that's not true! You buy me food, you bring snacks when we study, and you drive me to your hockey games. You've always been the best and no one comes even close to beating you," You explained, still feeling the effects of the alcohol as words left your mouth faster than you could process them, "Like, seeing you and hanging out with you and talking to you is the best part of my day. I could be having an absolutely shitty day but the second I see you and your smile and your perfect curls, suddenly my day is not so shitty and is good again."

Luke's eyes widen slightly as you spoke, his body comfortably lounging in his seat as he listened. His drink untouched in his hands. He watched you as your eyes sparkled while you talked, even between bites of your food.

"And you always watch out for me and you listen to me, like actually listen to me. I know a lot of people but no one sees me the way that you do, no one knows me the way that you do. It's like, whenever I'm with you, I just know that everything is going to be okay because I have you. You're everything I want in a person." You told him, your cheeks flushing a shade of red. Your hands instinctively covering your face in slight embarrassment as you sobered up slightly from the food entering your body. The realization of everything that you 'casually' told Luke, who sat in front of you, crashing over you.

"Oh my god," You whisper to yourself, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make this weird or anything. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Why are you sorry?" Luke asked, carefully putting his drink into the cup holder. His eyes were still on you, his hands gently moving yours away from your face. His facial features softened even more as he took in your shy expression and rosy pink brushed across your cheeks.

His larger and calloused hands held yours, "You shouldn't be sorry because I feel the exact same way, and I have for a while."

"Really?" You asked, your voice small and infused with the same nervous feeling that was engulfing you.

He smiled, "Really. I think there was always something about you since we first became friends that I was always drawn towards. I thought I could move away from it since I didn't want to ruin our friendship... But when you started dating J- you know who, I got jealous because I wanted to be in his spot."

His thumb brushed over the skin of your hand drawing faint circles, "I think it has always been you. You make me a better person and you always bring out the best of me."

"You're going to make me cry," You pout, the surge of happiness and loving emotions filling your chest as tears brimmed your eyes.

"I mean everything I said," Luke reassured, placing a kiss on your knuckles, "And I don't know what is going to happen next between us but I'll be okay with whatever you want."

"I think I want you to kiss me right now." You replied.

His face flushed as a small smirk drew upon his lips, "Yeah?"

You nodded. One of his hands brushed over your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bringing your face closer to his. Your chest leaning over the centre console to be closer to Luke, the close proximity of you two allowed you to breathe in his scent that was so distinguishably his. You could see every freckle that was sprinkled across his nose and the flecks of green in his blue eyes. His pupils were dilated as he gazed at your big doe-like eyes and flickered towards your lip-gloss coated lips.

His thumb caressed your chin — tilting your face upwards. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours, fitting perfectly with each other. You let out a happy sigh as you bring your hand to tangle with the curls at the back of his head whilst his hands cup your face. His tongue brushed lightly over your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. Your lips part open, allowing for his tongue to dance with yours.

His hands traveled down to your waist, "Come here, gorgeous girl." Luke mumbled against your lips, guiding you to climb over the console and onto his lap. His hand reached down the side of the seat to push his seat backwards to give the two of you more space. His hands trailed down to give your ass a gentle squeeze, causing a small moan to leave your lips which Luke swallowed up with his mouth.

You kept a hand in his hair, loving the feeling of his curls while the other hand rested on his upper chest. Luke had his hands on your waist, keeping you in place on his lap as your lips moved together. You pulled away for a second to catch a breath, your eyes opening to see his slightly swollen lips and blown out eyes. A giggle slipped out of both of you as you leaned down to rest your forehead against his.

"You're perfect." He breathed out, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"What does this make us Luke?" You asked him, "I don't know if I can go back to being just friends after a make out session that good."

"I would ask you to be my girlfriend right now, but I refuse to you in the middle of a McDonald's parking lot at one in the morning."

"Tomorrow then?" You laughed, pecking his lips.

"Mhm," He hummed, connecting your lips again for a brief moment, "Do you want to spend the night at mine or do you want me to drop you off at home?"

"That's a stupid question and you know that," You teased, feeling his smile against your lips, "Yours tonight."

"Alright, let's get going then," Luke chuckled, "Get back into your seat, I promise cuddling in my bed is much comfier than the driver's seat of my car."

You giggled, climbing off his lap and sliding back into your original seat. His eyes stay on your smiling self, his eyes full of adoration and love as he started his vehicle. While he drove, the two of you fell into an easy conversation as usual. Mainly debriefing the party that felt like hours ago and the drama that you had found out about from the girls you were with.

When he parked, he rushed over to your side of the car to open your door. His hand holding yours as he guided you through his house and to his room. Luke gave you a change of clothes and let you get ready for the night in the bathroom.

You climbed into his bed where he flipped open the comforter to allow you to snuggle up to him. You laid your head on his chest, feeling the strong muscles of his pectorals from working out and playing hockey over the years. His legs tangled with yours and his arms wrapped around your middle.

"My mom is going to be the most excited about this when we tell her." Luke said to you, his voice low and quiet. His hands lazily brushing through your hair, "Or Jack, he's been on my ass since the start... Although for a while, I thought he had a thing for you."

"Really?" You asked, tiredness seeping through your words as the rise and fall of Luke's chest brought you closer to sleep.

"Yeah, always told me how sweet and cute you are." Luke chuckled.

"Jack said that?"

His hand paused in its movements, "That's my brother, relax."

"I'm just teasing," You giggled, "As long as you think the same thing."

"Of course I do." He mumbled, "Good night, my gorgeous girl."

"Good night, Lukey."

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #hughes brothers x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fluff

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holdinggrudges · 6 months ago

Text

what's my flavor? - sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, oral (fem!receiving), vampire!sam, blood drinking, bloodplay (surprisingly little though tbh), fem!reader (afab anatomy + the word girl used in reference like three times or so), feeding being explicitly referred to as similar to drugs/getting high, mentions of serious illness (made up for plot reasons but still)

word count: 10.5K

summary: Working your way through college, you find a secretary job with great pay and more than enough downtime on the clock to get your coursework done. The only downside is that it leaves you with no choice but to attend night classes. But it's not so bad, especially with Mysterious Hot Guy attending them as well. Oh, and there's been blood bags going missing, but you're pretty sure that's not going to be relevant to your life any time soon.

notes: this was supposed to be pwp. it was also supposed to be posted on halloween. clearly, neither of those things happened. but fuck it, we ball. @cafekitsune for dividers <3

crossposted on ao3

You don’t understand how anyone could get through college without a job. You hear about people surviving off scholarships all the time, and you try your first year, you really do. But, God, something has to change. You can’t imagine working your way through school could be any more stressful than the budgeting, and the skipping meals, and the cards declining at the grocery store.

So you get a job. A good one, too; a secretary job at an office ten minutes away from your apartment, and only twenty minutes away from campus. The job is easy, with plenty of downtime for you to work on your coursework, and the pay is good. Better than good, even. The only problem is the hours; 9-5 is great, generally, but not very convenient when setting up a college schedule. You’re relegated almost exclusively to night classes. Which is fine. Not ideal, but fine.

You take four classes, two a night, and it leaves your Fridays wide open after work. It would truly be a perfect schedule if it didn’t mean you were on campus until 11 o’clock most nights. But the classes are relatively empty and none of your professors are total hardasses, so it’s not so bad. Actually, you start to really enjoy it.

You make a little game out of studying the other students, trying to figure them out. The woman who sits in front of you in your statistics class is a stay-at-home mom, you think. The older man a few rows down in english is retired military. It’s interesting, and it gives you a reason to actually make it to class everyday. Well, that and Mysterious Hot Guy.

Mysterious Hot Guy (or MHG, for short) is in two of your classes: your 6 o’clock political science class on Mondays and Wednesdays sitting a row down from you, and sitting beside you in your 8:30 biology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He first caught your eye because, frankly, he looks more like he should be on a movie set than night classes at a dinky community college. He’s drop dead gorgeous, and that’s putting it lightly. Even so, that’s not what has you so intrigued. Something about him is off somehow, strange in such a way that it has you completely captivated. Alluring in a way you can’t quite put your finger on, even outside his appearance.

MHG hardly ever speaks. You’re pretty sure he’s only said one word to you the entire four weeks of the semester so far, and he sits literally a foot away from you every other day. He’s also, apparently, a genius. He never takes notes, never writes a single thing down, he never asks questions and never answers them either, for that matter. Still, you happened to catch a glimpse of his grade on the test your biology professor handed back last week, and he got a perfect score.

He also doesn’t have a car. Or, rather, he doesn’t have a car of his own. Every Tuesday and Thursday as you’re walking back to your own car at almost 11 PM, he’s climbing into the passenger seat of an absolutely gorgeous vintage Chevrolet Impala that makes you simultaneously green with envy and desperate for him to push you up against the side of it. Or push you down against the backseat. Or the front seat, which you find out is a bench seat after some minor googling. Car like that, you’re not exactly gonna be picky about where.

Still, even after all your observing, you don’t learn a single useful piece of information about MHG until six weeks into the semester—two weeks out from midterms—when your biology professor announces that you will be choosing your partners for the midterm project. You barely even let the words leave his mouth before you’re turning to your right, pouncing with what you hope is a normal amount of enthusiasm, although you’re so damn intrigued by this guy that all you can do is pray you don’t come across as a total stalker. “Hey. Would you wanna partner up?”

MHG turns to you, his eyes wide in a way that leaves you a lot less hopeful about how normal your greeting was. “Uh. Me?” he asks, and his voice is…warm in a way you weren’t expecting. He could do audiobooks, or a podcast, or something—he has a nice voice is what you’re getting at.

You laugh. You’re almost a little starstruck—it makes sense; you’ve definitely turned this guy into your own personal celebrity. “Who else?” you respond, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m ____.”

He eyes you for a moment before he clasps your hand and gives it a shake. Jesus, this guy must have anemia or something because his hand is fucking freezing. “Sam. Uh, Winchester. Sam Winchester.” His touch lingers for a moment before he tugs his hand back. “And…yeah. Yeah, we can…partner up.”

Sam Winchester. Finally, a name to put to the face. No more thinking of him as Mysterious Hot Guy for you; you and MHG are on a first name basis now. “Awesome,” you say softly, and you really, desperately hope your smile looks less manic than it feels. “So. Sam. Would you mind giving me your number or something so we can set up a time and place to meet up?”

He hesitates, but he does scribble a number down on the corner of his empty notebook page. “I, uh. I can’t do…daytime,” he tells you as he slides it over.

Okay. Weird way to phrase that, but you assume he’s like you, he works during the day or something. So you shrug and take the proffered paper. “Me neither. I have work.” You pinch it between your fingers with a grin. “We’ll make it work.”

He smiles at you, a shy sort of thing that makes your chest ache to draw out more. “Yeah. Okay.”

You plug the number in your phone almost as soon as you get home, but it takes you almost an hour to actually text him. You go through probably a hundred different drafts before you finally land on: ‘hey!! it’s ____. does friday work for you? my only day without classes lol’

Once you press send, you figure you’ll probably have at least five minutes to freak out and overthink. Sam doesn’t really seem the type to be glued to his phone. Which is why, you suppose, that you nearly have a heart attack when your phone buzzes with a response no more than 30 seconds later. ‘Friday works. 7 at the library?’

‘see you then :)’ You debate over the smiley face for a solid minute and a half before finally sending it and then violently throwing your phone across the couch and screaming into your throw pillow.

When you do finally work up the courage to pick your phone up again, he’s sent two texts back. ‘See you then.’ And then another one, a small bubble containing two characters: ‘:)’ Embarrassingly, you giggle alone in your living room. Oh, this guy is going to be the death of you.

You spend the rest of the night googling Sam Winchester and coming up with absolutely nothing. He seems to have absolutely no social media presence at all, not even an old MySpace or a private Facebook account. The only reference you can find to his name at all has it listed as one of two sons of some random serial killer from, like, the 1800s, which is obviously useless.

You give up your fruitless search with a sigh, closing your laptop and shoving it aside. Your tv is playing on some local news station—doesn’t matter which one, they’ve all been reporting the same story for weeks. You click it off, 100% disinterested in hearing about the blood bags going missing from local clinics for the millionth time this month.

You go to bed and dream of brown hair and eyes that you just can’t quite place the color of, but you can swear you see them flash red.

Friday finds you at the library almost a full hour early. You’d agonized over your outfit all day yesterday, and for another half an hour after work to boot. In the end, you’d decided to go casual. After all, it is just a study date—and actually, not a date at all! A study meet-up. A study hangout, at best. The fact that you did your make-up and your hair for it is entirely irrelevant.

It’s 6:45 when a cough draws your attention up from your phone. Sam is standing in front of you with another one of those shy smiles, and two coffee cups in his hands. Coffee cups from your favorite cafe. He shoves one in your direction. “Uh. I’ve noticed that you have drinks from here pretty often. And- I hope you don’t mind, but I…I read one of the cups? So. This is for you.”

Your eyes flick over him, your heartbeat practically pounding out of your chest. So he’s been watching you too. Or—Jesus, not watching, that makes it sound creepy. Observing is a better word for it. He noticed a pattern in your coffee cups. He read one to find out what it was you were drinking. “Thanks,” you tell him, taking the cup from his hand. Turning it to read the writing, you find he’d gotten it right. Maybe you should find it creepy, actually. As it is, you’re sort of having a hard time not swooning. You beam at him. “I’ll…have to return the favor.”

For some reason, that makes Sam laugh as he sits down across from you. “Sure.” He opens his backpack and takes out his laptop. “So, this project.”

Sam, as it turns out, is a genius. Or at least exceptionally smart. A project that would’ve taken you hours on your own is done in record time with him, which leaves the two of you there at 7:30 with a fully completed midterm project and half-empty coffee cups. You don’t want to leave, and it seems Sam doesn’t either, as he closes his laptop and asks, “Why are you taking night classes?” like he’s really, genuinely curious.

So you tell him. You tell him about trying to get through college on your own, deciding you needed a full time job, how it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had. You ask him the same question, and he tells you about his brother, who is, apparently, the one who drives that fucking awesome car. He drops Sam off at classes, and pretty much anywhere else he needs to go.

The two of you chat for an hour and a half before Sam gets a text that says his brother is literally going to leave him there if he doesn’t shag ass and get in the car pronto. So Sam walks you out of the library.

“You know,” you blurt out before you can lose your nerve, “I feel like our classes would be a lot easier if we put our heads together like this. You know, regularly. Like, every Friday, maybe.”

He ducks his head, smiling that same shy smile he’d had when he gave you the coffee. “Sure. Every Friday. Sounds…helpful.”

You don’t realize until you get home that he never actually told you why he takes night classes. It turns out to be a pattern for him, as the two of you meet up week after week. You simultaneously feel like you know everything and nothing about him, and every week you like him more and more for it. Well, for that and the coffee that he gets you every time.

It takes a week before he moves seats in your political science class. The Monday after the second Friday you meet up with him, you almost sit in the wrong seat because you’re so used to him sitting two rows ahead of you. Of course, when you realize what’s happened, Sam’s staring at you with an amused grin on his face, like he’s trying really hard not to laugh at you. So, you decide, you are friends, at least. And as far as friends go, Sam’s a pretty good one.

You and Sam text, constantly. Despite seeming relatively unplugged, he responds to you instantly almost every time. You hate to get your hopes up, but by the time finals roll around, you’re starting to really like him. You’re starting to think he really likes you too.

He finishes his biology final on the last Thursday of classes long before you, but when you leave the classroom, you see him leaning against the wall, waiting. Again, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but when he lifts his head and sees you approaching him, you swear to God, you see his whole face light up. He looks a little pale, maybe. But it also might just be the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

“How do you think you did?” he asks, falling into step beside you.

And, you think, it’s now or never, now, isn’t it? Classes are over. You may never see Sam again (although, you like to think the two of you are close enough now that you would at least remain friends outside of having classes together, but still, the sentiment remains). So you change the subject and ask, “Would you wanna get dinner with me on Saturday?”

He pauses, freezes in place pretty much, and you stop to match him. “Dinner, like…dinner?” he asks, as if that question makes any sense.

You laugh, a little awkward, and adjust your backpack straps. “Uh, yeah. Like, dinner.” You don’t want to explicitly mention it being a date. You feel like he likes you, you really do, but if you’re wrong…that rejection is going to sting. So you don’t say it, not explicitly.

But still, Sam’s face lights up with a grin. “Yeah. I’d…really love to get dinner with you, actually. I’ll have to—I’ll text you. But…yes, yeah. I’d love to.”

You’re pretty sure the smile on your face matches his. “Okay. Then, I’ll see you on Saturday. And you’ll text me.”

“I’ll text you,” he agrees.

The two of you linger for a moment before parting, and you have never been more excited to say goodbye to someone in your entire fucking life.

When you get home, you have a text message. ‘I’ll pick you up. Does 7 work for you?’

You have to take a moment to squeal into your pillow before answering that yes, 7 does work for you, and you’re excited to see him then. And then, as an afterthought, your address.

God, you need to find something to wear.

Saturday comes around, and you’re fully ready by 6. Sam’s almost always shown up early, after all. Your TV plays news footage, stating that the clinics have taken to putting up extra security around their blood banks to no avail. You couldn’t care less, too giddy and girlishly excited to even think about the stolen blood bags.

6:45 rolls around. Sam isn’t there. That’s…fine. He’s not obligated to show up early. You set up a time to pick you up for a reason, right? There’s no reason for the sinking feeling in your gut.

7:00. No sign of Sam. But that’s no reason to worry. Maybe he got stuck in traffic. People are late sometimes, and you don’t need to panic just because Sam’s never been late before.

At 7:30, you shoot Sam a text. ‘are you okay? don’t tell me you forgot about me :( lol’ You don’t get a response.

You don’t change back into lounge clothes until 8, and you don’t take off your makeup until 8:30, and that’s only because you’re pretty sure you’re about to start crying and ruin it anyway.

The real kicker is that you thought Sam, at the very least, considered you a friend. Or at least friendly enough to let you down easy rather than agree to a date and then stand you up. Clearly, you severely misread the entire situation. You entirely misunderstood Sam in general, if he’s really the type of person to do this sort of thing.

Wiping hot tears off your face, you cork open your expensive bottle of wine. Desperate times, right?

Two hours and half a wine bottle later, you’ve swung from devastated to angry. How dare he stand you up? You’re a catch! You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’ve ignored all of his weird quirks and red flags, and for what? To cry into a glass or five of overpriced wine on a Saturday night? Screw that. You should call him and give him a piece of your mind.

Or…no, you’re pretty drunk, actually, so you probably shouldn’t call him. But you could text him. Yeah. You fumble for your phone, furiously typing out a text and hitting send without a second thought. ‘if u werent interested in me u cldve just said so. didnt have 2 ghost me’

Next thing you know, you’re opening your eyes the next morning with a killer headache, a damn near empty bottle of wine, and no response from Sam. While you’re curled over the toilet, the alcohol isn’t the only thing turning your stomach. There’s a worry brewing there too.

Because the more you think about it, the more that this really just doesn’t feel like Sam. Now that you’re further out from it, you can acknowledge that much. When you ask yourself if you truly believe that the guy who bought you your favorite drink every time you met up, the guy who remembered every single thing you ever told him, the guy whose face totally lit up when you asked him to dinner—when you ask yourself if that guy would stand you up, you truly, honestly don’t believe he would. So the real question is: why did he?

You fight through the worry until about halfway through your shift on Monday when you realize that with finals over, you have absolutely no idea when, or even if you’ll see Sam again. You call him. It rings all the way through until you get his voicemail, and you wish the sound of his voice could calm you, but it only reminds you that he’s not answering. You don’t leave a message, sending him a text instead. ‘seriously, are you okay? please at least let me know you’re not dead.’ You’re not surprised to find you haven’t gotten a response the next time you check your phone, walking to your car at the end of the day. Desperately, heart-clenchingly worried, but not surprised.

You open your laptop the second you get home, furiously searching anything you can think of. You search for his name again, hoping to find anything that could point you towards family or friends, to the brother he mentioned. You search local obituaries, John Does, anyone who might even bear the slightest resemblance to Sam, but there’s nothing. Nothing, until you accidentally click on one of the articles about the blood theft. There, in a blurry screenshot of footage from the new security cameras one of the blood banks had installed, you see it. You recognize his brother’s gorgeous fucking car.

Your eyes go wide. Holy shit, you’ve been flirting with a criminal. You scroll up through the article, reading furiously, but it doesn’t even mention the car, focusing instead on the blurry, shrouded figure entering the doors. Is this why Sam went missing? Laying low until he can be sure no one will connect the footage of the car to him or his brother? Why the fuck is he stealing blood bags in the first place? Needless to say, the discovery leaves you with more questions than it does answers.

The world, unfortunately, does not stop with this revelation. You go to bed. You get up, you go to work, you come home. You think about Sam. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Should you go to the police? It’s not like he’s killing people but…it’s still illegal to steal blood bags. Also morally wrong, probably. Plus, you now have information that could help forward an ongoing police investigation. You’re not entirely sure what counts as aiding and abetting, but you’re not exactly itching to find out where the line is.

On the other hand, Sam never seemed particularly…criminal-like to you. Strange, sure, but he was nice. Kind, even. You never in a million years would’ve pegged him as some sort of criminal mastermind. That’s got to count for something. Right? At the very least, you think it allows him the benefit of the doubt. So…late Tuesday night, you send him another text, the last one you’ll ever send him. Probably. ‘hey so keep ignoring me if im wrong but are you the one stealing blood from the clinics?’

He doesn’t text you back, and you pretend that means you’re wrong. That you can clear your conscience and go to sleep. That you can go to work and stop worrying about vintage cars in blurry security footage.

Then the sun goes down on Wednesday, and someone knocks on your door.

The man on the other side of it is unfamiliar to you. He’s wearing a leather jacket, an amulet hanging off his neck. There’s absolutely no reason you should recognize him as quickly as you do. Except that he has this quality about him, something unreal or maybe inhuman, and you’ve seen it before. You can’t quite tell what color his eyes are.

He smiles at you, and confirms it. “You’re ____, right? Sam’s told me all about you.” This is Sam’s brother, the one with the car. The car that you recognized in the blood bank footage. “I’m Dean. Can I come in?”

You keep your hand on the edge of the door, ready to slam it in his face if need be. “How’d you get my address?” you ask, instead of answering the question. This man could be dangerous. You trust Sam, mostly, but his brother…that’s a different story.

“Sammy had it. Remember? For your little date.” Dean says, taking a step towards the threshold. You take a step back. “Can I come in now?”

You ignore the fear raging down your spine, the urge to turn tail and run away. Sam carries himself differently than Dean, presents himself in such a way that instead of cowering away from him, you want to keep looking. His strangeness is intriguing, not off-putting. Dean, though, he takes those same qualities and twists them on their head. Dean looks at you, and your entire body screams Danger! Like he’s some sort of predator. “Why are you here?”

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” he snaps. He takes another step forward, but stays notably on the other side of the door. Just barely. “Sam needs help. Are you gonna invite me in, or not?”

He could be lying. He could be manipulating the affection you already have for his brother to get you to let him in so he can off you, maybe the only person who’s connected him to his crimes. But, if that was the case, why wouldn’t he have just forced his way in? And also, why the fuck would he go that far just to cover up some stolen blood bags? “What’s wrong with Sam?” you ask, stepping back from the door to allow him inside. When in Rome, right?

His lips press together, like he’s irritated, though you can’t imagine why. You’re letting him in, which is what he wanted. He stares at you for a moment before sighing, world weary, like he’s holding the weight of a hundred lifetimes of idiocy on his shoulders. Jesus, this guy’s dramatic. “You have to invite me,” he grits out.

Your confusion only grows, but you oblige anyway. “Okay…come in, then.”

Dean steps into the apartment almost as soon as you’ve said it, like you’ve only just now opened the door. You back up a few steps further.

“Just so you know,” you say, standing up taller and trying to act less terrified than you feel, “I have a gun. So don’t- don’t try anything ‘cause I’ll shoot you.” You’re completely bluffing, of course, but there’s no way Dean could know that.

“No, you don’t,” Dean says, like he definitely knows you were bluffing. Well, great. “Besides, I’m not here to hurt you. My brother needs help, you think I’m gonna kill the only person who can help him?”

He doesn’t look like he’s lying. Then again, you’re pretty sure this man is a criminal, so maybe he’s just a really good liar. “Yeah, you said that before. If he needs my help so bad, why didn’t he just tell me himself?” It’s not like you slammed the door in Sam’s face and told him to leave you alone. You’ve sent him four texts and a phone call since he dropped off the face of the earth last week. He’s had every opportunity to ask for your help.

“Cause he’s sick,” Dean tells you. He lifts his hands before he approaches you, like you’re some sort of wild animal that he doesn’t want to spook. Embarrassingly, it works. “Really sick.”

You shake your head, bemused. “I don’t understand—what does that have to do with me? If he’s sick, he needs a doctor. Not…a random college student.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, he would. But he’s got…it’s complicated.” He pauses in his approach and nods his head toward you. “Can I come closer, or are you gonna shoot me, tough girl?”

You roll your eyes, but gesture him closer. “Be my guest, so long as it means you’re gonna tell me something that actually makes sense.” You’re tired of the riddles, frankly. If he doesn’t give you real answers soon, you don’t care how terrifying he is, you’re gonna have to do something drastic.

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, I can see why Sam likes you,” he mutters, shaking his head. “See, me and Sam…we’re not exactly normal. If I took him to a doctor, not only would they not be able to fix him, they’d probably kill him.” He stops beside you, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks. He cuts an intimidating figure, even without the air of a predator about him. You really, really wish you actually owned a gun.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, voice quiet in the face of this hunter. “That you’re not normal?”

He grins, big and sharp and toothy. And then his illusion drops. Your eyes seem to fail you, like someone’s dropped the floor out from under you and then told you the floor was never real in the first place. His eyes catch your attention first, blood red and striking. And then, of course, you see his teeth—no, his fangs. Two long, sharp, killer fangs where his canines used to be. “Welcome to the night of the living dead, sweetheart.”

Vampires are real. There’s a monster in your fucking living room. This is crazy. You should be screaming. You should shove this man out the door and lock it behind him and maybe never leave your apartment again. Instead, you blurt out, “So that’s why you were stealing blood bags.” Honestly, a lot of things are starting to make way more sense now. You’re almost embarrassed you didn’t think of it before.

Dean laughs. “Right on the money.” You flinch as he claps you on the shoulder, and he laughs at you again.

“So…I’m guessing Sam doesn’t just have a regular old stomach bug, then?” You really feel like you should be having a more extreme reaction to this situation. You just found out that not only are vampires real, but you’ve been actively flirting with one. You think maybe you’re in shock. “This is some sort of weird…vampire virus, or something?”

“Smart girl,” he says, pointing at you approvingly. “Though it’s not exactly a virus, more like…food poisoning. Actually, we call it blood poisoning. Comes from drinking stale blood—bagged blood, for example—rather than fresh from the source.”

You frown. “Why drink bagged blood, then, if it makes you sick?”

“Why do people go vegan even though they need protein?” Dean counters. “Harm reduction. Plus, it doesn’t always make us sick. It’s pretty rare, actually. More common now than, you know, the olden times, but it happened back then too. Storing blood in vials, bottles, anything can make blood go stale, but it means you don’t have to hurt as many people getting it. Some things are worth the risk.”

That much, at least, you can understand. “So this…this stale blood, whatever—it makes you sick,” you repeat, that same worry for Sam from before roiling in your stomach again. “How sick?”

Dean grimaces, so whatever it is is clearly not good news. “It can kill us. Pretty easily, too. I have to tell you, I don’t know exactly how it works. Sam’s way better at this sort of thing.” He taps his fingers against your coffee table. “But I do know how to fix it.”

It’s pretty easy to guess. Dean’s here, despite the fact his brother is apparently dying, and there’s really only one thing you have that they don’t. “He needs blood,” you say quietly, beating Dean to the punch. “Fresh blood.”

He nods and shoots you a stilted smile. “Quick on the draw, huh?” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he sighs, shaking his head. “Sam hates what he is. Doesn’t matter that he’ll die without it, he won’t hurt anyone. He just won’t.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly uncomfortable with Dean’s intense stare, like he can see straight into your soul. “So- so, what am I supposed to do about it?” you ask, your shoulders shrugging helplessly. “I’m still a person. I can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

Dean takes a step toward you, and this time you don’t step back or shrink away. He’s dangerous, sure, but not to you. Not as long as you’re the only thing standing between his brother and certain death. “Look, Sam really likes you. If he knew I was here right now, and he wasn’t on his deathbed, he’d kill me. But I just—I’ve tried. It’s been a week, and I’ve tried so hard—” He ducks his head as he cuts off, his jaw working over clenched teeth. “I know that you care about him, right? I mean, I saw the texts; I know—I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. I can’t just sit around and watch my little brother die. I had to try. I have to try.”

Seeing him now, you almost can’t believe you were afraid of him. He looks almost terrified himself. And despite the uncertainty you feel, the fear, well…there’s a clear answer here. Yes, there’s a chance Sam refuses to feed from you, but there’s also a chance to save him. You can’t just stand back and let him die because you’re scared. “Okay.”

Dean’s eyes snap to yours again. They sparkle with hope, and even though the illusion is dropped, even though his eyes are red and his teeth are viciously sharp, for the first time since you first saw him, he looks human. “Okay?”

“Take me to him,” you tell him, moving past him to grab your coat off the hanger by your door. “Let me try to save him.”

Dean gives you the key to the apartment and a wish good luck, but stays in the car (which, yes, is just as nice as you imagined, though you wish you’d gotten to experience it under different circumstances). He tells you as you climb out the passenger door, “If this goes the way I hope it does, you two aren’t gonna want me there. Trust me.”

Apprehension keeps you rooted outside the locked door, biting a hole through your bottom lip. There’s a lot of ways this could go. Quite a few of them could end up with you dead, and you’d be a fool not to acknowledge that. Then again, you’d also be a fool not to acknowledge what you know about Sam, what Dean’s told you about him today. Kind, gentle Sam, who is sick and dying, but apparently still refuses to hurt anyone. Who drinks from blood bags, despite the risk, simply because it means he can live without harming others. He doesn’t deserve to die.

You take a deep breath, and unlock the door.

The apartment is…Well, it’s a little dingy, but it’s cozy. Homey. There’s clutter and trinkets on every shelf, books that look so old that you fear they’d disintegrate if you touched them. It occurs to you, then, that you don’t know how old Sam actually is. A memory flashes in your mind of his name mentioned in records from the 1800s. Holy shit.

“Dean?” You recognize Sam’s voice, but it’s thin and croaky. Weak. Really sick, Dean had said. “Are you home?”

You follow the sound of his voice into a bedroom, and the stale smell of illness almost makes you stumble back from the doorway. It doesn’t smell bad, necessarily, so much as still and wrong. Sam’s been in this room, wallowing in sickness, for a week. Your heart aches for him. “Not Dean,” you say quietly, hoping not to spook him. You approach the bed, and only just keep from gasping at the state of the man curled up in it. Sam is pale and sunken, visibly weak and malnourished. He’s trembling, shaking all over with chills, maybe, or just tremors in general.

His face changes when he hears your voice, his brows furrowed in confusion. He opens his eyes and peers up at you over his cocoon of blankets. His eyes, like Dean’s, are red, but unlike Dean’s, they’re glassy and tired, his eyelids fluttering like he’s struggling to keep them open. “____? What…what’re you doing here?” He pushes himself up to sit, and you can see the effort it takes him to do even that, his arms shaking under his own weight.

You sit gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. “Dean sent me,” you tell him, ratting Dean out immediately.

Sam groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes. The veins in his hands are standing out, ugly, mottled red under pale skin. As if the blood really had poisoned him. “I’m gonna kill him.” Wow, Dean hadn’t even exaggerated, huh?

“Not like this, you’re not,” you mutter, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “Jesus, Sam…” He’s ice cold to the touch like he’s been out in the snow for hours. You curl your hands around his, trying to warm him.

His gaze flicks to them, your hands barely covering his. “Sorry I missed our date,” he says, mournful like he really is repentant, like standing you up is the worst sin he could’ve possibly committed. “It…was a date, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it—I meant for it to be.” You huff out a laugh, sympathetic as you smile at him. “And, you know, somehow I can’t find it in myself to hold it against you.”

Sam laughs, and for the first time, you catch a glimpse of his fangs. They’re just as viciously sharp as Dean’s, but they somehow look less dangerous on Sam. You’d worry you’d been charmed or something (isn’t that supposed to be something vampires can do? You have to admit, you’re a little out of the loop of vampire lore), if you weren’t certain that Sam would never do something like that. No, not charmed, not in any sort of magical sense. “I’ll die happy then.”

Wow, you see the dramatics run in the family. “You’re not going to die,” you say firmly, releasing Sam’s hand to brush his bangs out of his face. He’s freezing all over. It makes you want to wrap him up in your arms, make sure he never goes cold again. You settle for pressing your palm against his cheek, your fingers cupping around his jaw.

“I am, though,” he shoots back, like he’s arguing about who’s answer on the homework is right, not about his actual, literal life. “I’m going to die. But that’s—it’s okay. It’s been a week, so I’ve sort of come to terms with it.”

“Screw that.” You turn more firmly towards him, pulling your legs under you to kneel on the bed. “Seriously, screw that. I can help you. If you think I’m just gonna- what, stand aside and let you die, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“Sure. And you’re just gonna fix me, huh?” He shakes his head, turning it away from you with a huff. “All sunshine and rainbows after that. Not like I’ll have to bleed you to get better, right? Oh, wait.” Oh, he’s such a fucking diva, even on his deathbed, apparently.

“Oh, my God—yeah! I sort of figured it wouldn’t exactly be pleasant.” You didn’t spend all that time hesitating at the door because you thought it would be a walk in the park. “But if the choice is between that and letting you die, there’s no contest. I don’t understand why you’re so set on it when I’m sitting here offering you a solution!”

“Maybe I don’t want to be saved!” His outburst silences you, especially because it seems to take a lot of energy from him to snap at you like that. He stares you down, red eyes meeting yours, and you…you don’t know what to say to that.

You can lead a horse to water, but… “Sam—”

He cuts you off with another shake of his head. “Dean…he used to tell me that what we are doesn't make us monsters, it’s what we do. And I really wish I believed that, but the thing is, I…am going to die if I don’t feed from someone, like- like a fucking parasite. What is that if not monstrous?”

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” you tell him. Slowly, cautiously, you reach for his face and replace your hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to meet yours. “I actually happen to think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I don’t know what kind of monster would’ve apologized for getting deathly ill and accidentally standing me up.”

His eyes flick over your face, like he’s searching for something. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” His voice, thin and mournful, is heartbreaking. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know—I’ve never been sick like this before. It’s possible I won’t have a lot of control if I feed on you like this.”

That’s sort of what you were afraid of. But that’s the benefit of him feeding from you, rather than some random person off the street, right? You know what’s going on. “I won’t let you go too far,” you assure him. “Sam, please. I want to do this for you. Let me…let me help you.”

His eyes meet yours, and he seems to find what he’s looking for. He lifts his hand and brushes your hair back off your neck. “If I do this—if—it’ll hurt, at first,” he tells you, placing his hand on your shoulder. Just resting there. It sends sparks down your spine all the same. “But not for long. It’ll start to feel good, kind of like getting high. But if I—I’m not going to bite you if I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop me if I take too much.”

“I’ll stop you. If I have to.” You trust him, mostly. But you’re also aware that he hasn’t fed in a week, so you’re prepared to have to at least alert him to your blood loss.

His fingers trail along your neck, goosebumps following in his wake. His eyes follow the path of his touch, and his hands may be hesitant, but you can see the hunger in his eyes. Maybe you can make the horse drink, after all. “Are you sure?” he asks, and his hand moves to the back of your head. Bracing.

“I told you—” you say, your voice coming out almost as quiet as a breath— “I want to do this for you.”

“Okay.” He leans forward until you can feel his breath on your neck. It’s almost cold, unnaturally so. “Tilt your head a little more, that way—there you go,” he instructs, and that tone in his voice is…yeah. You are definitely glad Dean didn’t come in with you. His lips brush your skin when he speaks next, “Ready?”

“Yes.” You’re not sure how you manage to get your voice to come out as stable as it does. You bring your hands up to brace on his shoulders, and your grip goes a bit tighter when you feel his fangs press, just barely, against your skin. “Yeah, I’m—go ahead.”

You’ve never been bitten by a vampire before. You have no frame of reference of whether this is what it’s like every time, or if it’s just a Sam thing. Or if it’s just a you and Sam thing. But the whole process is intensely intimate in a way you weren’t expecting. Even when he first sinks his fangs in and it stings, makes you draw in a sharp breath. He’s a little uncoordinated, you think, and maybe goes in at a weird angle, because he draws his teeth out to sink them in again, but not before his tongue flicks out to catch the blood that drips down the side of your neck. The gasp that escapes you this time is not just from the pain.

He was right, of course. It does hurt at first. But the pain is offset by his hand on your head, his fingers curling just so to grip your hair. You swear you can feel in real time as he gets his strength back. As your blood flushes the sickness out of him. You’re not sure there is anything more intimate than that.

You think maybe you expected a transition between pain and euphoria, but there is no slow fade. In between one blink and the next, the pain disappears, replaced with a floaty, echoing pleasure that has your fingers clutching at Sam’s shirt. Everything around you goes a little unfocused, fuzzy, except for everywhere Sam touches, where you swear your nerves are lighting up with sparks and ecstasy. You might be making noises. It’s a little hard to tell, your senses dampened as they are.

“Sam…” You shove a little at his shoulders when you notice your hands start to shake. He hums, and you feel it on your skin. You can see, now, why he likened this feeling to getting high, although you’re not sure it’s the feeding that you can see yourself getting addicted to. You shove him a little harder. “Gettin’ dizzy here.”

He pulls back from your neck, and your senses return to you in a rush of sound and a pinprick sort of ache where his teeth had sunk into your skin. You watch, full focused vision returned, as Sam wipes at his mouth and then drags his tongue over his hand, now free of mottled veins, to catch the blood that had, you assumed, spilled as he drank from you. Like he can’t bear to waste a single drop. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“You taste like…” He trails off, and then his mouth is on you again, but not biting. No, his tongue drags up your throat, and it occurs to you—vaguely, through the fog of earth-shattering, soul-bending lust that settles over you—that if blood had spilled down his mouth, then it stands to reason that it had made a mess of your neck as well. Not that you’re complaining, if this is the result of a little mess. He makes a soft noise against your skin, his breath hot now in a way it hadn’t been before. “Taste like…” His voice peters off again, distracted or just unable to find the words to describe it.

Yeah, screw this. “Let me find out for myself,” you murmur, your hands moving from his shoulders to his face—and his skin, too, is warmer now, almost the temperature you would generally expect it would be—until you can drag him into a kiss. The answer, as it turns out, is blood. You taste like blood, although you sort of assume it tastes different to him. Strangely, the flavor isn’t as off-putting as you would assume, especially not when he groans and uses his grip on your hair to tilt your head, kiss you deeper. You lick into his mouth, tasting your actual, literal blood on his tongue, and you…don’t have the words to describe how absurdly hot it is.

He’s not careful with his fangs, not really, lets them catch on your bottom lip and draw out pinpricks of blood that he soothes with his tongue. It makes the whole thing a little messy; he’s got blood smeared over his lips when you pull back to breathe. Your eyes track his tongue as he licks it up.

His hand, the one that’s not braced on the back of your head, brushes against the skin of your waist under the hem of your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly, still so close that you can feel the words on your lips.

Is this okay? You almost have to laugh at the question. As if you hadn’t wanted him since the first moment you saw him. “Yeah,” you tell him, a little smile tugging at your lips. “It is so absolutely more than okay.”

At your confirmation, he smiles too, and his hand rests more firmly on your waist, almost grounding. “Well, I didn’t buy you dinner first. Wouldn’t want you to think I was ungentlemanly,” he says, drawing a soft laugh from you.

“Aw, well. You did try.” You press forward, leaving a short kiss on his lips as your hand shifts from his face to tangle your fingers through his hair. “Plus, I mean…technically, I—”

Sam cuts you off with a kiss, but you can feel his grin against your mouth. “That does not count,” he protests.

“I dunno,” you say, a little sing-song in your voice as you grin at him. “I did quite literally just save your life. I think we might be a little past dinner.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at you. He’s not annoyed though. You can tell, because his fingers flex on your waist and then move, brushing up your side. “Uh-huh. Sounds to me like I’m slacking.” He ducks his head and presses two short, soft kisses to your neck, right on top of the pinprick aches. “I’ll have to repay you. You did just save my life, after all.”

Almost subconsciously, your fingers tighten in his hair. Anticipation settles in the small space between you, a space that grows even smaller when his hand presses against the small of your back and tugs your closer. “I did just save your life,” you repeat, your voice significantly breathier than it was before.

He laughs, a little puff of breath against your skin, and his lips drag down your throat in a line of open mouthed kisses until it lands at your pulse point. You swear to God, time slows down as he breathes in, slow and deep like he’s smelling your blood beneath your skin, and then presses his teeth to it until you can feel the points of them, precarious like water pooled on top of a penny. He doesn’t bite down, doesn’t break the skin, but fuck, you almost want him to. It seems like he wants to, too, as he closes his mouth with a snap. “Fuck…” He pulls back and lifts his eyes to yours. “Can I taste you? Please?”

It takes you a second to understand what, exactly, he means. He’d already tasted you; if he wanted more blood, he could’ve just bitten you again. Then, it clicks, and you…well, what are you supposed to say to that? Sam Winchester, all big, cow eyes and mouth smeared with your blood, so politely asking to eat you out, like you’d be giving him a gift. How could you possibly turn that down? “Yeah. Yeah, fuck, that’s—yeah.”

You only see his answering smile for half a second before his lips are on yours again, kissing, biting, while his hand caresses over the bare skin of your stomach. His kiss, his touch, is almost overwhelming, doesn’t leave you much room to think about anything else but him. Not that you really want to. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulls back just far enough from you to speak, and even then you can feel his lips move against yours as he asks, “Can I take this off?”

You really do laugh this time, drawing your hands down his neck and over his shoulders. “I appreciate the whole gentleman thing, I really do, but Sam, baby, I’ve wanted you since before I even knew your name. So let’s just assume that whatever you wanna do, I really fuckin’ want it, too.”

His eyes flick over your face, and you can literally feel the cocky ass grin he gets at that. It is, unfortunately, like everything else he does, ridiculously sexy. “That long, huh?” He’s such a dick. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your entire life. He tugs back and drags his gaze down your torso, his hand leaving your hair to join the other in toying with the hem of your shirt. “Guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer, then.” His hands brush against the skin of your stomach as he pulls your shirt up and over your head before tossing it aside, not caring where it lands. You’ll find it later. Or you won’t.

His eyes lave over your newly bare skin, his hands following shortly behind. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his palms flat against your stomach and dragging them up your ribs. “Can you lay back for me, darling?” he asks, even as his hands press you back against the mattress before you can respond.

You go easily, not in the least because the name knocks the breath out of you. “Darling?” you echo, shifting until you’re resting comfortably against the nest of pillows at the head of the bed.

Sam climbs over you, his knee nudging yours until you spread your legs to make room for his hips to settle between your thighs. “Is that alright?” he asks, ducking his head to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw.

More than alright, if the fluttering in your stomach is anything to go by. “It’s fine,” you say, playing it cool. Then, because his hands are rubbing up and down the bare skin of your sides and his teeth (the blunt ones, not the fangs, because he has much more self control than you do) are nipping at the skin of your neck, you play it decidedly uncool and continue, “Darling.”

You feel his answering smile against the skin of your collarbone as he and his kisses and his teeth travel down the line of your neck and chest, pausing at the edge of your bra. He lifts his eyes to meet yours through his lashes as his lips press the softest of kisses there. “‘M gonna take this off, now,” he tells you, his voice deep and rumbling. His hands move up your back, and you arch your spine to allow him room to do so. He undoes your bra clasp without removing his lips from your chest, tugs the garment down your arms and tosses it vaguely in the same direction as your shirt without a second thought.

“I thought about this, you know,” he says, softly, against the skin in the valley of your breasts. “Getting my mouth on you. How it would feel.” He shifts his attention, his lips closing over your nipple while his hand palms your other breast. It draws a soft gasp from your lips, your fingers twisting in his hair. “How you’d sound,” he continues, his voice a little cocky now.

“Sam…” His name falls from your lips on an exhale, like you’re breathing him in, like he’s pumping through your veins the same way you’re now pumping through his.

He smirks. If you thought he was cocky before… “Yeah, pretty much—” He presses that smirk against one nipple and brushes his thumb over the other, and while your head is dropping back onto the pillows with a moan, he laves his tongue over it to make you moan even louder— “just like that.” He's got you so distracted, you almost don't notice his free hand trailing down your stomach, brushing along the waistband of your jeans, not until his fingers undo the button with practiced ease.

“Oh, God, you are so unfairly hot.” You lift your head to watch as he kisses his way down your stomach until he finally reaches your waistband with his mouth, too, and leaves a nippy little bite there.

He laughs, glances up at you with that fucking smirk as he drags your jeans down your hips. “Unfair to who? You?” The two of you maneuver a bit until he can tug your pants off your ankles and toss them aside, another clothing casualty lost to the war on your sanity led by the swooping in your gut whenever Sam looks at you like that.

“Not me,” you elaborate, although it’s hard to do so when Sam’s hands are settling on your hips and his thumbs are rubbing slow circles on your skin and dipping just so under the elastic of your panties on every other pass. “But, like, every other guy. How is anyone supposed to compete with…this?”

This being Sam motherfucking Winchester, who had spent months shyly testing the waters and cautiously flirting so subtly that you were terrified you’d read him wrong, suddenly suave and confident and practically begging to eat you out. Oh, and also being, objectively, the hottest monster. This man has been terrorizing the dating pool for maybe centuries. You shudder to think how many women’s standards he has completely obliterated.

Continuing the streak of obliterating your standards, he ducks his head, that shy smile on his lips again. “I mean, I should hope no one is competing with me in this particular instance,” he says, voice hesitant as if there’s a chance on Earth you’d ever turn him down.

You shake your head, and honestly, you can’t help but laugh because a literal vampire is about to go down on you, and somehow the most unbelievable part of this situation is that he thinks he has an ounce of competition. “Are you actually asking me if I want to be exclusive right now?” you ask, drawing a hand up and through his hair, brushing his fringe off his forehead. “Because I feel like I made it so obvious how much I like you. Obviously, there is no competition.”

You have the honor of watching Sam blush for the first time, and knowing that you made it possible. Your blood flushes his cheeks, makes his face go the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.

“Obviously,” he echoes, his words brushing against the skin just above your panties. His hands brush down your thighs, and he pulls one of your legs up and over his shoulder so your heel rests against his back. He turns his head, and with your thigh now bracketing his head, it’s easy for him to press an open-mouthed kiss there, and then another, and then another until he’s brought you back practically to panting again.

“‘M gonna make you see stars,” he tells you, his lips pressed against the crease where your thigh meets your hip. “And then, because I am a gentleman, I’m going to buy you dinner. And I’m gonna be thinking about this—” He nips at your skin, bares his fangs this time and draws a well of blood and a gasp from you simultaneously— “The way you taste; the way you feel—I’m gonna be thinking about it the whole time.” He draws his hands back up to your hips just to tuck his fingers under the elastic of your panties, lifting his eyes to yours as he tugs on it. “Can I take these off?”

You think you might die if he doesn’t. “Please.”

His fangs seem to glint in the light when he grins, but he ducks his head before you can look again, a sort of hyperfocus to his posture as he shifts your hips and legs until he can pull your underwear off your ankles, and finally, finally, leaves you bare to him. He doesn’t waste a second, his hands dragging up your thighs and then spreading them further, his eyes roving over you like you’re the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. “Gorgeous.” His voice, breathy and sweet, washing over you is the only warning you get before his lips press against you in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Your lungs expand on a gasp, and then deflate on a moan as he laves his tongue between your folds, the muscle pressed flat and soft like a tease. Or a preview. You’re not totally sure you’re going to survive this actually. You might die with Sam’s tongue licking over your pussy, and honestly, what a fucking way to go.

“Taste so good all over, huh?” Oh, holy fuck, he’s still talking. His lips brush over your skin and make you whine, and you’re pretty sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice better than you can hear him. “Feel like I should thank you. Letting me feed from you, and now this?” He makes it sound like it’s some sacrifice to let him go down on you, like you’re not gripping his hair so tight you’re surprised you’re not pulling it out. “You’re perfect.”

“Oh, my God,” your voice comes out high and tight as he closes his lips over your clit and sucks. Your back arches off the bed, but as your hips shift to press up against his mouth, you find his hand pressed low on your stomach, pinning you down. “Sam—oh, my God.”

You can feel as much as hear the soft, contented hums he’s making, like he’s never wanted to be anywhere more than with his head between your legs and his tongue drawing circles over your clit. His fangs, sharp and dangerous, are almost artfully pressed against your skin, just barely enough to feel the points of them. His free hand, the one not pressing you down against the mattress, keeps trailing up and down the outside of your thigh, making you shiver and press your heel into his back. And it’s so obvious he’s loving this maybe even as much as you are, his whole body shifting as he grinds down against the mattress, and God, that feels almost as good as his mouth on your cunt does. He’s getting off on the taste of you, on making you squirm and whine and moan.

It’s over the second he presses his tongue against your entrance and his nose smushes against your clit—everything after that is a jumble of sensation. The feeling of his tongue fucking in and out, his nose rubbing against you with every movement of his mouth, his hand grabbing at your thigh and holding your legs open when your muscles go tense and tight and anticipatory.

He draws his tongue out of you with an obscene slurping sound that just has you hurtling even faster towards the edge, your hands grabbing at his hair for dear fucking life, white knuckled. “Are you gonna come?” he asks, his voice low and gruff and almost fucked out. You squeeze your eyes shut, nodding as if it wasn’t obvious from the constant stream of noises spilling from your lips. “Yeah? Go on, come on my tongue. Give it to me, darling, let me taste it.”

How could you resist that? His words and his stupidly talented mouth draw you over the edge, your pussy spasming as you do exactly as he asked and come on his tongue. True to his word, he does, in fact, make you see stars, lights sparking behind your eyelids. His mouth works you through it until you’re whining and using your grip on his hair to tug him away, oversensitive as you come down from an explosive fucking orgasm.

He presses kisses on your inner thigh as he shifts it off his shoulder, your body loose and pliant now. “There you go, good girl.” The words make your cunt give a valiant twitch, even as he draws himself up your body until he’s laying beside you and pressing kisses over your face. “Was that good?”

You peek one eye open to look at him, incredulous. “Was that good—you’re so ridiculous, c’mere.” You turn your head to draw him into a slow, lingering kiss. Much like the taste of your blood in his mouth, the taste of your pussy on his tongue is, frankly, life-changing. You’re addicted already.

He draws back with a soft laugh, his eyes traveling over your face with such obvious fondness that you have to press another quick kiss against his lips. “Okay, understood.” He brings his hand up to brush over your face, soft and gentle and such a contrast to the obscene pleasure he’d taken in going down on you that it makes your cheeks go warm. “So when can I buy you that dinner?”

The question gives you pauses, and your eyes flick down his body, curious. “Did you not want me to…”

You watch your blood, again, flood his cheeks as he laughs and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s not—I really like giving head,” he explains, as if that is not literally the hottest thing he could’ve possibly said.

Fuck dinner, you wanna go five rounds with him back to back right now. “Okay,” you say, because he’s very sweet and he wants to be a gentleman and who are you to take that from him? “You can take me to dinner, if you swear you’ll let me suck you off when we get back. Deal?”

The way his face lights up is worth having to wait. “Deal.”

“And,” you continue, your hand smoothing over his hair where your grip had mussed it up, “next time you need blood, let’s just skip the whole ‘I’m a monster’ thing. I am more than willing to supply you; I have a vested interest in keeping you around.”

He rolls his eyes, but the way he kisses you, fangs and all, tells you he gets it.

#sammy !!#grudges writes ;#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #x reader #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #vampire smut #sam munchester love of my life #smut #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 link #alternate universe #vampires

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gureumz · 2 years ago

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project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

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kisses4reid · 1 year ago

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convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff

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xxkissesforchanniexx · 11 months ago

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Oh, How I Hate Him

Pairing: bad boy!Minho x student council prez!fem!reader (college au) Genre: angst, fluff Word count: 8k >.> Warnings: college idiots, mention of drinking, drugs, smoking O_O DONT DO ANY OF THAT, cringe romance, enemies to lovers, dick exboyfriend. protective Minho >.> <.< thats it i think????

a/n: did I intend for this to be smut? Yes. is it? no. do i mind tho? absolutely not someone help me come up with a better title...

You inhaled deeply and smiled contentedly as you entered the student council office.

"Good morning Ms. President." Your friend and vice president, Jia, said.

You gave her a side eye. "I said don't call me that."

"I'm sorry." She giggled, "Yuna, schedule today?"

"We have to collect signatures for lowering student parking costs and start the campaign for the cafeteria to be expanded and renovated this summer, you also have to meet with the principal to discuss how the high schoolers are going to tour the campus, " Yuna, the student council secretary and planner named off things from the list.

You nodded, "Not too much." You checked your watch, "I have a class at 8:30 and I haven't gotten my coffee yet, any of you want to come with me?"

Jia and Yuna looked at you, with are you for real right now man? faces before getting up and grabbing their bags to go with you.

You went to the cafeteria and as you were getting your iced americano, a student came up to you.

"Y/n, can you sign here to help keep our debate program alive? The district is trying to cut off our funding to have our formal debate team dissolved." The boy handed you a clip board and a pen.

You signed your name before picking up your coffee, "I'm running a little late, Yuna, can you take the papers on my desk to the principal's office?"

"Sure." Yuna picked up her own coffee and ran off.

You briskly made your way across campus and checked your watch, 8:25 AM, right on time. You entered the history classroom and smiled, "Good morning." You greeted your professor before going to sit, not too close to the front, not too far back, and not perfectly situated in the middle.

As the classroom filled, your friend, Seungmin, leader of the science olympiad team sat beside you.

"You're a bit late don't you think?" You teased, taking out your notes.

"Not everyone i always going to be as punctual as you, Madam President."

You rolled your eyes.

The chatter in the classroom died as the teacher stepped to the front of the class, "Good morning class, as you know this is the only history class you have to take to meet the graduation requirements. So, if you intend to slack in my class just know your future depends on your performance in this cl-" She was cut off.

The door opened and you looked away from the teacher seeing a man with redish brown hair and a leather jacket at the door, he had pretty eyes and small but plump lips. His eyes raked over the class for a moment before he looked at the teacher, "Sorry, I'm late."

"You are?" She raised a brow.

"Minho. Lee Minho." He said, walking into the class and going up the steps to the back of the classroom, he passed you and your eyes met. He smirked slightly and you made a face, not bothering to watch where he sat.

"I hope you won't be late again, Mr. Lee." The teacher said.

"No promises." He said.

She pursed her lips before continuing her speech about the importance of the class, where to find the resources, the books you'd need, the minimum grade you'd need to pass the final and so on. A snicker made Seungmin look over his shoulder.

Minho was sitting beside a guy with chubby cheeks and big eyes. Han Jisung, who, raised a brow at you and Seungmin as if to ask what.

The teacher kept talking and Minho and Jisung's distractions persisted before finally the teacher, who you now knew as Mrs. Jung snapped. "Gentlemen, is there something that's important enough to interrupt my lesson?"

Minho looked a bit surprised and Jisung blinked a few times.

"No.. ma'am." Minho said tentatively.

"Mr. KIm," Mrs Jung said.

Seungmin looked up a bit confused. "Ma'am?"

"Swap seats with Mr. Lee."

Your mouth fell open, SAY SOMETHING! SAY NO! ASK HER POLITELY TO RETHINK HER DECISION. "Ma'am I really think-" You started.

"As the student body president and one of the three candidates for valedictorian of your graduating class, Y/n, I think you'd be a good influence on Mr. Lee." She reasoned.

Seungmin put his notes in his bag and sighed deeply. "It's fine Y/n, we'll talk later anyway." He went up the steps and waited on Minho to collect his things before sitting next to Jisung.

You looked at Minho as he sat beside you. This was going to be a rough semester.

You went to the student council office after class to handle what Yuna had told you about in the morning and as you set your bag down you bristled, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. The same stack of papers you told Yuna to take to the principal that morning. You sighed and grabbed the papers and left the office, walking briskly down the hall and to the administration office, greeting the schools secretary before setting down the papers in the principal's office.

You went to return to the student council office, pulling out your phone to check over things when you passed the entrance to the arts department. You froze as you saw something in the corner of your eye, looking up to see Hyunjin and a guy in a hoodie.

You raised your hand and opened your mouth to wave but stopped yourself. Who was that guy anyway... You shrugged and went back to the office to handle your things.

You started counting the signatures the other members of the council left on the table, you let out a soft sigh of frustration, for people who complained about it being too much to park on campus, they really, REALLY, did not seem to mind that much.

You went back to your apartment and greeted your roommate, Doyeon, who, was sitting on the couch eating your snacks.

"HEY! Those are mine!" You huffed.

"Are they??!" She looked genuinely shocked.

You rolled your eyes and went to go change before sitting beside her and munching on the snack too.

"Oh, Yeongs-" she started.

"Save it." You said, looking at your phone.

"But he-"

"DODO!" You looked at her. "No. You told me not to be persuaded by him, you shouldn't be either."

"But he seemed genuinely sorry." She muttered.

"He always seems someway." You rolled your eyes and looked back at your phone. You got a notification from instagram suddenly.

You looked at Doyeon. "Does EVERYONE on campus have my instagram?"

She looked away from the TV, "Why are you asking so suddenly?"

"No reason." You muttered, looking back at your phone before following Minho back. He and his stupid self.

The following day Minho was late, much to your delight, you took notes and listened to the teacher for about the Egyptians and the Romans. Twenty minutes late, Minho strolled into class and sat beside you, not bothering to take out his books or anything.

"Good morning Madam President." He whispered.

"You could at least try to get here on time." You said, quickly scrawling down something Mrs. Jung had said.

"You could at least try to relax sometimes." He shot back rolling his eyes.

"If you're going to be late," You slid the first part of the notes to his side of the desk, "Play catch up."

Minho pursed his lips before sighing and taking the notes, he wrote them down faster than you expected, sliding them back to you after about five minutes and peeking at the sheet you were working on. You didn't say anything until as you were writing, he kicked you under the desk. You looked at him.

He was following along with the teacher as if he hadn't done anything. You rolled your eyes and went back to working. Minho's antics persisted until the and of class and as you were packing up your stuff you turned in a bit of frustration back to your desk to see more papers.

Minho was talking to the girl across the isle, she giggled at something he said and you grabbed the papers and pulled out a folder, arranged it neatly then put it carefully into your bag.

You were about to go when you realized your water bottle wasn't in your bag. You looked around your area for a moment before you clenched your fists at the sight of your bottle in MInho's lap.

You grabbed it and were about to leave when he held up your phone.

"LEE MINHO!" You fumed, grabbing your phone and storming out.

"You seem mad-" Jia said, steering clear of your volcanic rage as you threw your things onto the table.

Some of the members of the council squeaked and took off running.

"I hate Lee Minho." You practically growled as you sat in your chair.

A few days later you had worn a pair of heels for a meeting and they had been hurting your feet. You grimaced slightly while getting your coffee and Hyunjin sighed.

"You don't have to wear those shoes y'know." He sighed.

"I have to build habit." You huffed.

Yet when you got to class you really wished you didn't have to "build habit". But you wouldn't admit Hyunjin was right either. So you suffered through the entirety of class and somehow made it to the student council office. The moment you sat down and sulked over your feet you got a text.

You looked at your phone and rolled your eyes at the sight of Minho's contact. You ignored the "You look like you stepped on a lego" text and tried to turn to your work when another text came to your phone.

"Don't ignore my texts." followed by a "Call down your guard dog."

You stared in confusion for a moment before opening your phone and responding finally.

You opened the door to see Seungmin glaring at Minho.

"Y/n tell this hooliga-" He started.

"What do you wa-" You interrupted Seungmin only to be cut off by a pair of slippers being thrusted into your face.

"Wear comfier shoes. You look like you've been in pain all day. Idiot." Minho turned on his heel and walked away.

You blinked in shock for a moment. "Did he just.."

"You give her the slippers?" Hyunjin asked as Minho blitzed into the dance studio.

"Yeah..." He relaxed as he realized he was safe. He must've looked like an idiot. But when you were leaving the campus that evening Minho saw you and Seungmin walking to thee latter's car. A small smile came to his face as he saw you were wearing the slippers.

The next few months were packed for you, your teachers piled work on you like there was no tomorrow, and you wrote essay after essay. Business with the student council wasn't much better as Jia got sick with something and the campus tour date was coming closer and closer.

And Minho? Oh how you hated him. You hated the way he walked and talked and how he seemed to understand things without reading too much. You hated how he smirked at you in the hall way and how he got under your skin.

"I'm going to assign you your first project of the semester," Mrs Jung said from the front of the class.

You sucked in a breath and looked at your already stuffed bag, full of books and papers for your other classes.

"You will work in pairs." She said, "The rubric and criteria needed are online, if you have any issues feel free to ask me. I will assign partners now."

You exhaled shakily, Please don't be Minho. Please don't be Minho Please don't be Minho-

"Kim Seungmin and Baek Soojin," She said, "Han Jisung and Park Junho,"

Please don't be Minho!

"Soo Dokyung and Jin Sungwoon."

GOD IM BEGGING PL-

"L/n Y/n and Lee Minho."

You wanted to die on the spot.

"Woulda look at that prez, we're a team." Minho whispered, smirking at you.

You bit your lip. This wasn't so bad, he seemed pretty good at turning in his stuff on time and was mostly accurate. You had everything under control. You took a deep breath and looked at him. "If this is going to work we need to distribute the work fairly. So, I'll research the fall of the roman empire and you research the rise, we'll have a document to collect references and-" You head throbbed for a moment and you grabbed your forehead.

"Are you okay?" Minho tilted his head, brows furrowing.

You nodded, "I'm fine."

Only you weren't because after class you went to the student council office and sat at your desk.

"Y/N are you okay?" Yuna asked as you held your head, sucking a deep breath before continuing with your work.

"Yeah I'm good." You said taking out your computer and getting ready to work.

"You look a little pale.." She muttered.

You still got to work on your research though, Yuna left after a while, telling you to take care of yourself and relax. Earlier than usual you finally decided to head out, calling a cab and-

"What's the president doing here so late?"

You looked at Minho, who was carrying a duffel bag and his keys. "Work," You said, looking at the road waiting for your cab.

He stared at you for a moment. "Are you okay?"

You turned to him, "Why are you so concerned if I'm alright today? I'm fine, thanks." You said a bit harshly.

He made a face, "You just look really burnt out. It's late, let me give you a ride."

"I already have a ride on the way, Minho," You shut him down fast and he pursed his lips.

"Whatever you say, Madam President." He walked away to the parking lot and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest, like you'd gone too far.

Your cab came and you made it back to your apartment, Doyeon was the third person to point out your sickly appearance but the only one who actually made it to feeling your head and gasping at how hot you were.

"What the hell Y/N?! Are you trying to kill yourself?!! Come on!" She dragged you to your bed and made you put your stuff down and change before getting you into bed. "You aren't going anywhere ma'am." She said, "You sit here and get better, Nurse Doyeon will take care of you."

"I'd rather die." You teased.

She pouted, "Meanie."

You rolled your eyes and smiled at your friend, "Thank you Dodo."

"Of course y/nnie."

If you felt like shit at school, that was only the beginning, you whined in pain at your sore throat and Doyeon had to convince you to eat even though it hurt to swallow. After you finally finished the noodles and all the soup Doyeon made you, she made you take medicine for your throat and to reduce your fever before letting you sleep finally.

Only as you were drifting of you thought about history and mentally berated yourself for not studying ahead for the lessons. You were about to grab your laptop when your phone buzzed. A message from Minho.

Minho stared at his phone for a moment, he thought about how you seemed a but more irritable and pale and how your usual upright, perfect posture was slackened. So he did do his research that night, and looked at his cat Dori, "She's so uptight. It's not fair.."

The cat mewed softly.

"You're right, I'll give her something tomorrow." Minho muttered, "Maybe she's overworking herself. You think she likes pasta? Or maybe I should make her strawberry cake..."

In the morning, Minho was getting ready for class when his phone rang, he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed it, answering the call.

"Hyunjin?" He said, putting the phone on speaker.

"You coming today? Changbin might come too." Hyunjin said on the other end.

"Y'know I have a project to work on." Minho said fixing his hair in the mirror.

"Man, just a few hours."

"Yeah, nah." Minho said.

"Alright, your loss." He went quiet for a moment, "Did you see Y/n yesterday?"

Minho thought about how you looked so tired the day before. "Yeah."

"I'm a little worried y'know." Hyunjin sighed. "She never says anything when she doesn't feel well. But oh well, we'll see later."

Minho thought about what Hyunjin had said the entire way to class and for once, he was on time, sitting in his seat waiting for you. The classroom filled, the teacher entered, and you... never came.

He fidgeted slightly. Where were you? For the first time since he walked into that history class—much to Mrs. Jung and Seungmin's shock—Minho took notes. He jotted down things that were important and little details on the side, he underlined and highlighted did his best to seperate definitions and dates from key material as he'd seen you do.

After class he went to the student council office. This was abnormal. Where were you? You would never miss class even if you didnt have a ride and had to walk the entire way... in flip flops (as if you ever would) YOU WOULD BE AT SCHO-

"If you're looking for the president she's not here today." The secretary said.

"Why? Is she ok-" Minho started only to stop himself, "No problem."

He went to the arts department to see Hyunjin.

"Thought you weren't coming today?" The long haired man said, taking a hair band between his teeth so he could gather his hair.

"Came to say hi, I've got work to do." Minho shrugged.

"OH, 'cause Y/n isn't here?" Hyunjin giggled as he tied his hair.

Minho made a face. "Really wanna go that way?"

"No sir.." Hyunjin laughed nervously as Jisung and Changbin walked in.

"Minho! You came! Man we c-" Jisung said only to be cut off by Minho patting his head and moving him, hands at his waist.

"I came to say hi," Minho smiled, "I'm going now, I have work to do."

Jisung pouted. "It's cus Y/n is sick isn't it?"

Minho took a deep breath. "I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

When he left he made another copy of his notes in color, hole punched them, and put them in a nice folder before he went to his apartment. He stared at his phone.

"You should text her." Chan said over his shoulder.

"Why would I?" Minho looked at his friend. "Nah." He tossed his phone onto the couch and went to the kitchen and got to work making soup.

Jeongin appeared at his side. "Whatcha making?"

"It's not for you guys." Minho said, rolling his eyes.

"Then who is it for?" Chan said, looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah." Jeongin huffed.

Minho's mouth opened and he closed it again, deciding it was better to not say anything. Somehow he managed to get the food out of the apartment without either man getting it. He drove to your apartment and went up to your floor before raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped himself.

Stop being an idiot... he thought before knocking on the door and waiting for a moment.

A girl with long hair and big eyes stared at him for a moment. "You are?" She said, leaning against the door frame.

Minho looked at her, "Lee Minho, Y/n's friend."

"Oh?" the woman got in his face. "What exactly makes you think you're Y/n's friend?"

"I- Well-" Minho stuttered.

"Doyeon."

Minho looked past the woman at you and sucked in a breath, you stood there wearing a pair of pajama pants and a baggy shirt.

"You know this guy?" the woman, Doyeon, questioned, pointing at Minho.

"He's the guy I'm doing the project with." You said, before clearing your throat and coughing in your elbow.

"Eesh, back to bed." Your roommate started ushering you back to your room and motioning for Minho to enter.

He closed the door behind him and put the food down in your kitchen but you pulled away from Doyeon and sat on the couch, arms out towards the man.

Doyeon looked between you for a moment. "I'll uh- Leave y'all to it-"

"Minho give me the damn food." Your eyes narrowed.

He smiled slightly and looked around your kitchen before finding a bowl and spoon with Doyeon's help. He got you some soup and carefully brought it to you.

You took it from him and took a cautious sip, eyes lighting up at the taste of it. "AH! Minho! You saved me! Doyeon's food was going to kill me!"

"HEY!" Your roommate huffed.

Minho laughed. "I'm glad you like it. You could've told me you were sick. We're par- friends no?"

You looked at him for a moment. "Yeah. My fault.."

He shook his head and handed you the folder. "Catch up Madam President."

You looked at the folder for a moment before looking at him, "I- thank you."

Minho somehow managed to suppress the smile that wanted to come to his face. "Yeah, whatever, just make sure you get better, taking notes is hard." He muttered.

You rolled your eyes.

After Doyeon went to bed, Minho persuaded you to also go to sleep, he made you take more medicine for your cough.

"You'll be back tomorrow or the day after?" he asked.

"The day after probably, in case I'm still contagious." You said softly.

He hummed. "I'll take good notes then."

You laughed lightly. "Thank you really.."

"The president can't fall behind because of an illness."

You smiled. "Idiot.."

He smiled gently. "Go to sleep, I'm going to leave before your friend jumps to conclusions."

You huffed a laugh. "Okay."

"Alright... Sleep well Y/nnie." He said as he left your room.

"Good night Min..."

Minho closed your bedroom door and made his way out of your apartment, making sure to lock the door before leaving. He leaned against your door as he closed it. "Dummy..." He muttered. "Relax it's good for you.." He said softly before walking down the hall to the elevator.

You did manage to come in to class the day after and you were immediately greeted by the student council in a bit of disarray because of the upcoming campus tour.

"Excuse me!" You clapped your hands to get the people's attention.

They all looked at you before Yuna jumped on you.

"OH Y/N I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK!" She squealed.

"Schedule." You smiled at her.

"Yes ma'am!" She jumped into her her chair and spun for a moment before slamming her hands on her desk. "The high schoolers will be touring our campus the day after tomorrow, on Monday you have your speech in front of the administration and you have a scheduled meeting with a student later.

You nodded.

The people in the room stared at you for a brief moment.

"WELL?!" Jia shouted all of a sudden. "GET TO WORK WE CAN'T HAVE CHAOS WITH HIGH SCHOOLERS ON CAMPUS!"

The students started scrambling to get things done and you stood and went to history, greeting your teacher and apologizing for your absence before going to sit beside Minho.

"You're late." He smirked.

You checked your watch, you were three minutes later than usual. "You're suspiciously early."

"It's becoming a habit. You're rubbing off on me." He shuddered slightly.

You pushed him gently and he turned to look at you, as if asking you seriously just shoved him like that.

"I hope you don't rub off on me." You smiled.

Minho rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Jung started class and you kicked off quickly, you had to admit, Minho was a decent note taker.

After class you went to your office and fixed yourself a bit, waiting for the student who wanted to meet you. You opened your lip gloss and were in the middle of applying it to your lips when you heard a voice you dreaded to hear..

"Dolling up for me?"

You froze, looking at your mirror.

"Y/n?" Yeongsu said in a sing-song voice, you felt icky with how he drew your name out slowly, taunting you... "You haven't answered my calls, thought I'd pay you a visit." he grabbed the tiny cat figure you had on your desk.

You closed the mirror and looked at him. "Why are you here?"

"I got worried when I heard you were sick." He sighed, walking around your desk and kneeling, he tried to take your hand in his, "After all, you're my girl.."

You pulled your hand back roughly and glared down at him. "I am not yours. If you have nothing to talk about please leave."

Yeongsu cocked a brow. "I'm not one of your little student council members you can order around, Y/n." He stood.

"Leave." You said more firmly.

He reached his hand out to caress your cheek and you grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch me," You said through grit teeth, "Leave now."

He stared at you for a long moment and you held your breath. Yeongsu pulled away and rolled his eyes, "You're still so uptight." he muttered, reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigarette. "That's fine," He looked at you. "I like it when you fight back."

You bristled.

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "If only they knew their perfect president ended up in my be-"

"Get out!" You shouted, springing from your seat so fast it hit the wall with a loud bang.

Jia opened the door to the office at that sound and stared in shock at Yeongsu.

He smirked taking another drag in the silence, exhaling and then whispering, "You're not all that amazing, Madam President."

You stared at your desk, trembling with rage as he walked out of the room.

"Y/n.." Seungmin ran in and stared at Yeongsu as he left before running to you. "Y/n-"

"Open the windows.." You muttered, the smoke choking you, no, the thought of that bastard choking you.

"Wh-" Jia started.

"Open a damn window!" You shouted before falling into your seat, burying you face in your hands. "Please..."

Seungmin ran to the side of the room and began opening the windows.

You took a few deep breaths, "Let's get ready for the tour..."

While finalizing the plans for the tour, Jia and Yuna left before you as most of the council did, you sent emails to the schools that would be coming and arranged for food for the students. You were so engrossed in your work you didn't notice the sky darkening and were only pulled out of your grind by the rumble of thunder.

You looked out the window as rain droplets started pelting against the window. "Crap." You looked around your desk for an umbrella and cursed as you found nothing in its usual spot.

You grabbed your stuff and shoved it into your bag before heading to the front of the school, you opened your phone about to call a cab.

"Y/nnie never has a ride does she?"

You turned and stared at Minho.

He smiled, holding up his keys.

In the car the only sounds there were was the sound of the window wipers and the quiet music on the radio.

"Let's go to my place, it's closer." He reasoned.

You looked at him. "Yeah, okay."

When you got to Minho's apartment he got out with the umbrella before going to your side and shielding you from the rain as you walked in. The elevator ride was quiet. Too quiet so you said, "We're going to keep researching."

"Yeah." He said, "Uh- My friends hang around here often. Don't mind them too much, they're a little um.. rowdy."

You nodded, "I don't mind."

Only when you got to the apartment you were surprised to see not one or two friends but three men and three cats.

One of the men looked up from something he was eating, "Minho, who's the girl?"

"Minho brought a girl home!?" A man with very chubby cheeks who you recognized immediately as Jisung poked his head out of a room, he froze when he saw you before laughing lightly and going back into the room.

"He did?!" A familiar voice said in shock.

You looked at Chan one of the fraternity presidents.

He looked at you, then Minho and back at you, "How did this happen?"

"RIGHT!?" Jisung called.

"We're here to work on a project!" Minho huffed, "Please.

"OHH!" The muscular man at the table looked a bit shocked for a moment. "We'll leave then, yea?"

"Yeah.." Minho rolled his eyes as Jisung and Chan came out of wherever they were and gathered their stuff.

As they were leaving the muscular man shouted, "USE PROTECTION!"

Your face got hot and you turned to the door.

"CHANGBIN!" Minho shouted.

"SORRY! Leaving now!" He called back before he finally left.

You looked at him. "Let's get to work shall we?"

He laughed slightly and motioned to the sitting area.

"Your cats are cute." You said as a dark colored striped cat came up to you.

"That's Dori." he said as you pet the cat. "Soonie." He motioned to a white and orange cat laying on the floor, "Doongie." He pointed at the last cat which was walking over to Minho.

"The names are cute." You hum as you let Dori run off.

"Someone called them old fashioned..." Minho rolled his eyes.

"Who?"

"No one important. Let's get to work."

For the most part you and Minho worked very diligently and then your phone buzzed, you gave it a glance before it buzzed again and you frowned turning it on its face to ignore it. It buzzed again and you huffed, grabbing the device.

You saw the instagram messages and rolled your eyes.

You hum and put your phone down.

"What?" Minho asks.

"Nothing." You shrug.

Parties with Hae-joo were... a lot... especially since Hae-joo was such good friends with Yeongsu.. 'For old times sake' worried you. Did Yeongsu put her up to it?

You jumped as Minho flicked your cheek. "HEY!"

"Pay attention." He rolled his eyes.

You hummed and looked back at your work.

"Is there any particular place you like?" Minho looked up from his computer.

"Not really no." You shrugged. "Maybe my bed."

He rolled his eyes. "The beach?"

"Never been." You said looking at your computer.

"HUH!?" he blinked in shock. "It's like an hour away!"

"I never have time I'm always working or sleeping. or both." You laughed lightly. "I didn't live too close to a beach when I was a kid either."

"I'll take you one day."

You stopped typing. "You serious? I don't need to go-"

"Its really pretty there. At the beach I mean.. especially at night."

You noticed the way he smiled slightly.

"Friend of mine took me and" He sat up and started typing. "It's just really nice."

"I'll consider visiting." You laughed.

That night Minho was scrolling on instagram when he got a message from Jisung.

The first thing Minho thought about was how the heck YOU of all people would actually go to a party like that.

The tour began early, the moment the high schoolers arrived you made sure everyone was on their best behavior. As you showed the students around the classrooms and lecture hall, you noticed him watching you from his seat in his accounting class.

Yeongsu was watching you as you told the high schoolers about the class before motioning for them to follow you out. You came to your history class and greeted Mrs. Jung, explaining the touring high schoolers and then you explained the class and it content and why it was a mandatory class.

"We'll continue now," You said about to leave, as you ushered the students out, Minho came down from his seat and grabbed your arm gently.

"Are you coming over later?" He asked.

You blinked a bit stunned, "No, I have to get ready for my meeti-"

He made a face, "We need to finish the project,"

"We have a few more days. It's fine." You smiled and pulled away.

"Is he your boyfriend?" One of the high schoolers asked.

Your mouth fell open, "I-"

Minho looked at you and smirked, "She's a very close friend, we're not dating."

"Oh," the student said.

You cringed as one of the girls gave Minho her number on a slip of paper. "Let's continue."

Minho looked at you and laughed lightly.

After classes you were in the student council office and you decided to visit Hyunjin in the dance studio. You opened the door and blinked a few times in confusion at someone fixing Hyunjin's stance.

"It's ugly." The person said. That voice was familiar...

"AGH! HOW!" Hyunjin fumed.

"Stand like this!" The person stood the supposed proper way.

"THATS HOW I W-" Hyunjin's mouth froze as he saw you.

"What?" Minho stared at you in shock for a moment.

"You like dancing?" You smiled slightly.

Hyunjin grinned devilishly behind Minho and tried to run away but the older man grabbed him and dragged him back.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Is that a problem prez?"

You made a face. "No. Not at all. You should teach me sometime." You walked around a bit. "I just came to say hi... I'll go. Leave you guys to fix that."

Hyunjin tried to pull away from Minho who held him tightly by the forearm. "SAVE ME!" He mouthed.

You rolled your eyes and left.

At the party, it wasn't surprising that majority of the students were acting like it was a club, you squeezed through the crowd and looked around a bit.

"Ain't no way the president herself came to a party like this."

You turned and rolled your eyes at your friend Hongjoong, "Long time no see."

"How could you ever see any of us if you're always cooped up in that student council office?" A tall dark-haired man threw an arm around Hongjoong.

"You act like I'm there 24/7 Hwa." You laughed.

"We never see you anymore." He shrugged, "You don't want to associate with the riffraff of your past huh?"

"You aren't riffraff," You sighed, grabbing a soda from a table as you continued walking, "I just decided to grow up a bit."

The loud music shook the whole house and you felt it vibrating through you as you walked. You opened the soda can and took a quick sip.

"Y/N!"

You turned to the voice and smiled at Hae-joo, "Hey."

She hugged you, "Didn't think you'd actually come..."

"I didn't either, looking for a fr-" You stopped half way through your sentence and stared at Yeongsu, who was smoking in the corner with his guys, staring at you.

Hae-Joo's eyes followed yours. "He won't bother you, I made him promi-"

"Since when has he kept a promise." You took another sip of your soda.

"Come on, everyone's waiting for you." Hae-joo dragged you to the kitchen, all your old friends were there, laughing and smiing and drinking.

San was the first to notice you. "Y/N" He put down his drink and hugged you tightly.

"Hey! Hey-" You squeaked as everyone else piled on you.

"Give the girl a break. You'll crush her." Yunho rolled his eyes and smiled, "Good to see you."

You and your friends caught up when you noticed him as he walked in with Jisung and Chan. You left your friends for a moment and started walking over to him. His dark eyes met yours through the crowd and your heart skipped a beat.

He walked over to you and laughed slightly as he looked you over, "First time I've seen you dressed in something other than business casual or pajamas."

You made a face, "I'm not always dressed business casual."

"You always look uptight." He motioned to the crop top. "It's a good look on you."

Your face got hot and he looked at someone talking to him for a moment. You left Minho there and went back to your friends, you huffed as you noticed they were no longer in the kitchen.

You picked up your soda and took a sip after you finished the can you noticed that your head felt a little foggy like you were drunk. You stumbled slightly, it was a fucking soda. Unless.. you cursed under your breath, why had you left it unattended.

You stumbled and almost fell over, someone caught you and you were about to apologize when you saw the tattoo on his wrist and pulled away.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Yeongsu reached for you and you shook your head. You needed to leave, you needed to find Minho.

You pushed past the sweaty, dancing bodies and found tipsy Hyunjin and Chan.

"Y/n?" Chan stood, completely alert suddenly, "You drank?"

You shook your head, "Where's Minho?"

"I haven't seen him, do you need to lea-"

You pulled away and ran looking around you went up the steps and looked around at the drunk students, then as you entered a room you saw them. Minho, Jisung, and several other people you didn't recognize, you're heart stopped as you took in the position Minho was in.

A girl sat on his lap, taking turns with him at a cigarette. You watched as the smoke clouded up as Minho exhaled. The girl giggled and was practically rubbing herself all over him. Your breath picked up and you felt tears clouding your vision.

Minho looked at the door and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. Your eyes met and you shook your head before you took off running.

Minho came out of the room looking around the party. Where had you run off to.. You weren't the type to drink. At least he didn't think you were. You looked scared.

"Y/N!" He pushed past some people in the party then he heard someone.

"Y/N JUST RAN OFF!" a guy groaned.

Minho turned slowly.

"YEONGSU!" Hyunjin...?

Minho stared at his friend who had another guy by the collar.

"What did you do?" Hyunjin said lowly.

"My friend put something in her drink nothing bad-"

Minho saw red. "WHAT!?"

Hyunjin released Yeongsu and backed up as Minho stalked towards them.

Yeongsu stared at Minho, "What? You want to fight me? I didn't think she'd run out like th-"

Minho punched him hard.

You lay in bed staring at your ceiling as your phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time, maybe it was, you weren't counting.

"Girl.." Doyeon whispered as she walked into your room with (fav flavor) ice cream. "What happened?"

"Maybe I'm stupid, Doyeon..." You muttered.

Doyeon looked at your phone as it rang again, Minho's contact flashing across the screen. "Did he-"

"Him and Yeongsu aren't that different." You rolled away from her.

"Y/n.." Doyeon hugged you, "You don't need a guy, you've got me and Jia and Yuna... Hell even your guy friends."

You stared blankly at the wall.

"Y'know what, we're going to cheer you up, right now." She dragged you into a sitting position and opened the tub of ice cream, "The student council president is the strongest most independent woman I know, and she is the last person to beat herself up over a boy."

You stared at your friend. "Y-Yeah."

"Come on." She held up two spoons, "We can watch that show you wanted to try."

You walked into the student council office the following Monday and sat in your chair. "Yuna, schedule."

"We have a general meeting today and that's it." She said.

"Uh huh."

Jia's computer dinged. "You have a student meeting today."

"Schedule it for after lunch." You said, you walked into history class and turned in your paper on the Roman empire, you felt a twist in your gut, Minho wrote this with you.

You went to your seat and pulled out your computer, as class began you took notice of how Minho wasn't late... he never came.

You pushed down the worry in your gut and dragged yourself to lunch then the student council office. On your way you saw Jisung in the hall, he looked at you for a moment before turning back to the person he spoke to. You got into your office and stared at your phone, the notifications from Minho had piled up,you scrolled through the message notifications of "I'm sorry", "Answer", and "We need to talk".

You put your phone down as the door opened and you stared at Yeongsu. He smirked as he closed the door, "Heard your little boyfriend had a bit of trouble." You noticed the black eye he had.

Trouble... what trouble could Minho be in? "He's not my boyfriend," You said. "What can I do for you, Yeongsu?"

"Come on Y/n. Let's think logically here, you like when I do that." He walked around the desk and behind your chair. "Minho is in the same boat I am, maybe he's got a little heart. Maybe he's tryna crawl out of the pit we're in. But the same way you went to that party after you said you were done with us, he's fucking around with other girls because it's in his mind. You can take the person away from their habit. But you can't take the habit away from a person, Y/n..."

You stared at your desk. "What do you know..." You muttered as you looked at your phone on the desk. A notification from Jisung came on the screen.

"Huh?" he turned your chair to face him. "Think about it Y/n, you came back, you haven't changed deep down and neither has he."

"What do you know?" You looked up at him speaking a bit louder.

"Y/n."

"I'm asking 'What do you know?' what do you know about change that I don't? For you to educate me?" You stood and glared at him. "I'm different, I'm uptight, I'm reserved, I don't trust anyone! But I trust him. I've seen him change, I know he's not perfect, he's tempted all the time, he makes mistakes! He's human. He's more human than you will ever be." You pointed a finger in Yeongsu's face and said lowly. "So don't tell me he'll never be better. Leave." You pointed to the door.

Yeongsu stared down at you. "You think he's that good for you huh.."

Your eyes narrowed.

He didn't say anything more and left the room. You stood there and shakily exhaled before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages from Jisung.

You ran as fast as you could to the front of the school and called a cab, when it arrived the guy looked at you in the rearview mirror. "Where to?"

"Beach please.." You said frantically.

"Lady the beach is like an hour from here-"

You threw a wad of twenties to the front of the car. "Is that enough?"

The guy opened his mouth then closed it before turning on the engine again and looking at you, "Buckle up."

You gave him another twenty, "Make it fast."

When you got to the parking you waved the driver off and looked around, you ran to the sand and searched. You ran a bit and stumbled looking around you moved to get your phone and called Minho. It went straight to voicemail and you screamed running further into the beach looking for him, anything, his car, his jacket, anything..

You fell and gasped as you noticed that your heels were digging into the back of your ankle. You sat down and stared at your phone, the last message from Minho was from the morning. You took off your shoes and winced. Remembering how Minho had given you those slippers and told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

Your eyes filled with tears as you called him again, it went straight to voicemail. You were about to throw your phone into the sand when you heard the soft sound of sound shifting beneath someone's feet.

"Didn't I tell you to wear comfier shoes.." Minho said softly, he kneeled in front of you, taking your feet gently in his hands.

You stared at him, tears starting to fall from you eyes, "I was rushing.."

He looked up at your face and smiled softly. "You crying prez?"

You wiped your face and punched him. "I WAS WORRIED!"

"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore, I messed up, you wer-"

You kissed him hard.

He blinked in shock for a moment as you pulled away.

"Don't scare me like that!" You punched his chest again.

"I'm sorry.." He whispered. "For everything."

You stared at him for a moment before hugging him tightly. "I hate you."

He smiled and hugged you back. "I love you, too.."

Minho picked you up on his back and carried you back to where he parked his car. He got you in and drove to a small convenience store, buying you bandages for your feet and some slippers. He sat you on a bench outside and carefully put the bandages on the blisters on your feet.

You watched him for a while. "Who was that girl..."

"Which girl?" He looked up for a moment.

"The one who was on your lap." You muttered.

He looked up at you. "Y/n," he looked apologetic. "I don't even know her..."

You smiled slightly, "So she isn't important?"

He smiled. "Were you jealous?"

"NO!" You looked away, cheeks burning.

"I like someone a lot more than a random hoe.." He put the slippers on your feet.

You spun to look at him. "Who?"

He rolled his eyes and stood, bending to be eye level with you. "You, Madam President." He kissed your forehead gently.

You stared at him.

"It's late, let's go back, hm?" he helped you to your feet and led you back to the car.

You finally checked your phone after it buzzed for what felt like the millionth time.

"Do you want to go back?" Minho looked at you, before looking back at the road, "We have class tomorrow."

"I already turned in the paper." You said, putting your phone down. "We can go back tomorrow.."

Minho looked at your hands on the console, "Yeah..." He reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

You walked into the student council office to see Jia and Yuna talking to Yeongsu.

He noticed your presence first and quickly got up. "Y/N!" He walked over to you, reaching for you.

You took a step back. "Explain." You looked at the girls.

"We thought he'd know where you were." Jia said.

"Where were y-" Yuna started.

"With me." Minho walked in and smiled at Yeongsu.

Yuna and Jia stared at you.

Yeongsu opened his mouth to say something but stopped as Minho put an arm around you.

"You are?" He stared at Yeongsu.

Yeongsu closed his mouth and walked out.

Seungmin looked at Yeongsu walking out as he walked in, took in the sight in front of him and rounded on his heel. "Good luck with that."

"I KNEW IT!" Yuna pointed at you two.

You rolled your eyes.

"Coffee?" Minho whispered in your ear, "You don't want to be late."

"Why so uptight?" You raised a brow at him.

He rolled his eyes and smiled as he dragged you out.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 if your name is in blue i can't tag you very sorry

@asahisimpnation, @seolarsonlyloveisyou, @leeknowsnot @oddracha @bubblespop

@palindrome969 @armystay89 @bubblerizz @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hot-emotional-mess

@seungminindabuilding @ot8 @Rylea08

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huellitaa · 1 year ago

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girl's guide to academic success: ep 1! ⊹˚. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 this post focuses on: actively rooting for success! ♡ part 2 -> ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. organisation

first off, have something to organise ur academic life with! i personally use notion (which i'll add later) but u can use anything as long as it's cute, convenient, unique and accessible to you, your life and your schedule specifically. especially as a visual learner, i like to have somewhere i can dump literally everything regarding a singular area in my life, so i do this for almost everything along with school and i highly recommend this <3

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. recognition of talents & improvements

analyse your strengths and weaknesses. think back on tests, exams, marks, and analyse which ones you got highest and lowest on. dont beat urself up for it, obviously; it's just to check which subjects you're doing good in and which ones have room for improvement. for example i love science but im not the best at it sometimes and we had an assessment recently and i didn't get as high as i'd like so i wrote down a little list on a piece of paper in my pencilcase for the topics i got the least in for me to study on my own to practise later.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. laying out goals

set down specific goals; i like to do this week by week accustomed to my schedule that week in my school notion page along with images and vision boards based on the term/semester, but you can do it for the week, the month, the year, anything as long as its helpful to you

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. productive planning

plan accordingly based on ur time energy. when creating any to do list or productivity plan dont pile a ridiculous amount onto it that just leaves you stressed and overwhelmed because that defeats the entire point; this works the same for academic plans and goals and lists etc.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. extra credit

put extra work in to the subjects you know will help you in the future. for example, for my personal aspirations i need to excel in english, history and textiles so i always try my absolute hardest and put my all into those lessons and do extra studying for them in my free time where i can. school is to prepare you for the future so take advantage of that

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. asking questions

please don't be shy to ask questions! that's what teachers are there for and you won't have them forever so take advantage of it while you can! you can even do it in that little window of time just after class if ur too nervous to ask in class. for example, on my last english exam i went to my teacher after class and asked about what i needed to improve on to get the marks i missed next time, and he told me i added too much detail and some other things so i wrote it down and am keeping a note of it to remind me to improve on that next time! (i got top of my class though so i didnt mind. still kind of pissed i added too much detail though)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. participation

participate! ok im saying this as someone who still struggles with social anxiety a fair amount but if u wanna get higher marks and get on good terms w ur teacher i 100% recommend this. i don't do this in every class but i do it where i can and when i'm confident in my answer, and it's really intimidating at first but what i did is i did it first in the classes i felt most comfortable on and continued from there. it gets easier every time i swear, and nobody's judging you; they'll forget about it after five minutes. plus, what would they be judging you for? being smarter than them?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. prioritising ur health

this is mentioned a lot in these types of posts but if you're tired or burnt out or overworked or just feel like you need to take a break then do. do the best you can and compromise like i said earlier if you need to, just make sure u are prioritising yourself over anything. <3

──★ ˙ ̟🎀inspo

──★ ˙ ̟🎀my notion

i also really recommend this layout by @honeytonedhottie ♡

all my love 🩷✨💬🎀💗

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absolutebl · 5 months ago

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This Week in BL - Actually a pretty fab line up right now

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 11 of 15 - This is where the teen awkward comes to grab me by the throat. No other Thai BL does this better than Love Sick (except maybe Make it Right). And it’s always a challenge to watch because Phun is so ready to come out and Noh is so not. I love what cramming 3 eps into one (and better side BL couples) did for the tension and pacing in this particular part of this story. The new version really is excellent. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here.

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - They are so awkward and I love them so much for it. They are terrible at faking romance, yet Fah want’s Rak so bad. This is moving so slowly but that’s part of it’s charm. I'm not frustrated instead I’m getting Oxygen vibes from it. Or perhaps it’s is more just I feel the way I felt when I was first watching Oxygen. Which is to say, I’m totally addicted and I keep re-watching new episodes.

Spare Me Your Mercy (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 8 - Gah! JJ grew up so pretty. I love these leads. (No one is shocked.) I love the lawful good paired against (we’re not sure yet but possibly) neutral evil. I love our very sus very flirty very gay doctor. A lot happened in this first episode. I’m getting Manner of Death flashbacks but there’s nothing wrong with that. Bring on the chili.

Incidentally, if you're interested in true crime, here's the IRL version of this story. How a Nuclear Lab Helped Catch a Serial Killer from the Science Vs podcast.

Jack & Joker (Mon IQIYI) ep 10-12 end - I got the go ahead on a safe ending, and thus I watched the last 3 eps all as one. I love how defiantly verse these two were. I also really enjoyed the final episode. I do like a finale that ends on a bang (yes, both kinds).

Final thoughts

I enjoyed this show a lot. A caper BL starring two of Thailand's best and focusing on class struggles, corruption, and poverty, was always gonna appeal to me. But I’m not sure, ultimately, whether I liked it because it was good in it’s own right, or because YinWar were so good in it. I do wish it had been a little more Leverage and little less chaos, Dr Evils, and "watch War cry." It was a great vehicle for YinWar, and for them to prove that BL can defy its own tropes. To that end, this goes comfortably into the Manner of Death category more than anything else I’ve encountered befor (although slightly less unhinged). It's good, but it loses the plot, the side couples, and it's own mind a couple of times, and YinWar were definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Thus I feel an 8/10 is fair, especially considering I'm unlikely to rewatch.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 2 of 12 - Dunk is illegally pretty in this show. I gotta say I covet his skin care routine. (I love YinWar as much as the next person, but THIS boy should be the spokes-BL-rep for Laneige.)

Manwhile..... FirstKhao might be GMMTV’s best flirters. It’s a pleasure to watch them just inhabit these characters and bounce off each other. I do keep saying “what tf are they doing?!“ with this show. In this instance, it was the dancing in the bowling alley. What is going on? is it meant to be a Pulp Fiction reference?

Also this gd soundtrack is bonkers. I *can’t!* with the 70s orgy porn music and the very bad not quite metal intro music. And then, I remember, brain must be turned off! (That’s really hard for me OK?)

All that said, both the sauna and the jerk-off scenes were much appreciated. It’s nice to see this kind of visceral physical attraction depicted in a BL, we get it so rarely.

On a side note, I entirely support Thailand’s one country agenda to put all the cute boys in crop tops. Keep it up. And up. And up.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 9 of 16 - I just don’t get the (new) main couple. They don’t work for me. I like the surprise gamer boys side crumbs though. They are v cute.

Side quest: Genius move anytime Hill comes on screen to basically have Pond make love to the camera. He v good at it. Break down everyone’s fourth wall, baby. Take no prisoners.

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - That exchange! “Are you worried about me” (attempted flirtation) vrs Junior’s response “yes I am.” Just utter frankness. It’s very sweet. All in all this show is very sweet. Somewhat incomprehensible world building, but sweet. And the head lift into the lap was next level adorable. Sun’s shy smile is everything.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 5 of 24 - This show is very silly. I love the sides so much I can’t EVEN. But I think it was a big mistake putting Tay into this show. Never let an OG out of the bottle like that. He gets all our attention because we think he’s gonna grant all our wishes. By which I mean, all I could think the whole time he was on screen was WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I’m not joking, I had to watch his scenes 3x because I kept getting distracted and losing the plot. Not that there is much plot to lose. Just Tay’s mouth. I’ll stop now, but seriously tho LOOK AT HIM!!!

Every You Every Me (Mon Gaga) ep 8 end - Honestly I’d like to see this pair handed something much more meaty. Like a Japanese adaptation? Tokyo in April is… for example. I think they do a great job with something like that.

Conclusion

This was supposed to be a linked series about reincarnated soulmates, but ended up being more like a Y-Destiny grab bag BL with no rebirth through line, just the same acting pair. The leads were excellent. And I must praise this show for representing things I always want in my BL (and rarely get), switch, verse, communication, and safe sex. It’s just that this format with the same actors but no unifying theme (despite the pitch/packaging) made for a disappointing viewing experience. Some of the installments I enjoyed, and the visuals are on point, but I was ultimately let down by style and execution, if not acting. 6/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 4 of 11 - “I won’t fall in love with you” is an easy promise to make if you’ve already fallen. I love this show SO MUCH. “Infect me just a little.” Holy fuck. This BOY. Also, so much for “not kissing.” This BL is fantastic. I’m so worried about where it’s going. Japan could very much hurt me with this. I didn’t expect to fall in love so hard.

Man, JBL...... when it gets you it really gets you (then it locks you in a basement and gets kinky). We are not safe but we must sit back and suffer enjoy it. I hate this. I love this. What a rush.

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 13 - I think this show has a “crash into me” trope in every single ep. This ep alone had 3, plus a flash back to the first one. Still, their damn date was so flipping adorbs!!!

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 10 of ? - I couldn’t be less interested in the stuff with the mean girls. I’m annoyed we spent so much of this episode on them. Fewer bullies more smooches.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Arashi as the doting bf was cute if sudden, also holy musical montage BLman. Kai is my favorite character (as was Sky) but I'm still not wild about the blackmail sex start to this relationship. It does seem a little bit more like Kai went after a one night stand, also bit more switchy, which is better...... I guess. But not by much because the chemistry with these two isn't as good as the original.

I remain suspicious.

It's airing but......

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues ????) 11 of 12 eps - My source hasn’t yet uploaded 11. So…… I wait.

Secret Love (? YT?) 13-?? of 81 eps - I don't know what's going on either.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun Viki) paused at eps 9-10 of 12 - I got the "stop" on this one as it's gone (no surprise) dark. Being China can not be relied upon to HEA. So I'm on pause until I'm told it's safe. If it ends sad/bad I will dnf. But for now I wait......

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, initially unsubbed, then subs happened by which time I got distracted. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. For now its to the wayside until someone tells me what it whats to be and if it's headed in a safe direction. Occasionally Thai pulps want to be edgy and it's not a good look on them.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I'm weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show made it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment. Ends tomorrow.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YT) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me + just very very odd. DNF

In Case You Missed it - GMMTV 2025 Line Up

There have been a ton of hot takes already, including mine.

Here are the titles and links to MDL for you (confirmed full BLs only), these are organized in order of the ones I'm anticipating the most at the top.

Dare You to Death - trailer

Boys in Love - trailer

Memoir of Rati - trailer

My Magic Prophecy - trailer

Me and Thee - trailer

A Dog and A Plane - trailer

Cat for Cash - trailer

That Summer - trailer

My Romance Scammer - trailer

Head 2 Head - trailer

Ticket To Heaven - trailer

Burnout Syndrome - trailer

Melody of Secrets - trailer

Only Friends Dream On - trailer

Love You Teacher - trailer

Next Week Looks Like This:

End of year drops:

12/4 0.5D (Japan ????) 10 eps - Sales ace, Sada, has a secret that only his junior, Daiki, knows. He has pretended to have a gf for years, resulting in him being a virgin. But now Sada has fallen in love. Confused, Sada seeks advice from his junior. I sense another queer Cyrano De Bergerac. Info here.

12/6 Be Moon - Falling for my enemy's son (China ????) movie from HBD Studio - Not much on this one just a trailer, looks intriguing...... if it's from/through Taiwan, but if it's all China, I'm wary.

12/13 ThamePo Heart that Skips a Beat (Fri YT) 12eps - A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV. This was my #1 pick for 2024. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea and Japan have systemically disappointed me). Bring it, boys.

12/14 & 12/21 The Renovation (Thai mini One31) 2 eps - Writer turns his blossoming romance with holiday resort owner into a novel.

12/29 Sangmin Dinneaw (Thai ????) ??eps - trailer Childhood friends (Thai & Korean) reunite after being apart for ten years. As the boys reconnect, their bond matures and feelings of romance begin to develop, in Thai.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

His smile. (Caged Again)

Look at them!

Look, I don't mean to tell you your business, but THIS? This is peak Thai BL. This is it. This is What They Do Best. Sure they dabble with silly kinky crimey-whiney fashizzal, but Thailand's true BL power is right here, in the sweet awkward school-set first love arghhhhh. Yes I said, school. Bite me. (Love Sick... damn it, 10 years later and it still has me in a choke hold.)

Hey all you idiots who thought (or think) there is ever a green flag in any Mame ever, this character if for you. This boy, THIS ONE. This is what a walking talking ACTING green flag energy actually looks like. You wanna date a dude? Find you one like him. Okay, peaches? sheesh

Meanwhile, this, this is not a green flag. This is GMMTV thinking they are being clever by calling out Thai BLs' worst behavior to make a character who has 'slightly less than worst behavior' look better. Sigh. When meta is used for ill gotten gains.

This, on the other hand is meta being cleverly deployed.

And this is language play. P'ABL's favorite.

So endeth this lesson.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

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hivemuthur · 4 months ago

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The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!reader explict! (we got there)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 7,2K!

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: spoiler: In the timeline of my writing, this is the first sex scene I've ever written on my own. So, what can I say? This is an imperfect story about imperfect people, but I can assure you it has an eventual happy ending.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

The absolute chaos of Christmas looming spread across the campus like an infectious frenzy. The corridors were decked with the most absurd ornaments the students could scavenge—Santa Claus figurines strung up and dangling upside down from the ceiling of the canteen, Christmas trees adorned with laboratory glassware and angel hair, and a mockery of carols blaring on repeat from the school radio. It was a bizarre fusion of science and art, a perfect encapsulation of the university’s peculiar spirit.

Every student seemed to be racing against time, scrambling to finish their projects and papers before the holidays, determined to return prepared for the looming finals. The labs and library remained open around the clock for anyone desperate enough to study or practise at odd hours.

You and Sue spent every spare moment in the lab classroom, tinkering with projects that needed to be submitted by the semester’s end. Meanwhile, Jayce and Viktor made themselves available to assist and guide anyone who might need their expertise, and the group crossed paths periodically, exchanging polite gestures and jokes to keep up the holiday spirit. Viktor had made a few attempts to talk to you after his mortifying text message, but you did your best to ignore him.

Which made your current situation, to say the least, far from ideal. Sue was rushing you to jot down all the points before she had to dash off and tend to a project for another class. The two of you huffed at each other, frustration starting to take its toll, until you sighed and said, “Sue, how about I finish this, and you go do your thing? I really don’t mind.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile.

Sue hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sick of me or something?”

“I’m never sick of you,” you said, placing your hand on Sue’s knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I just think this needs a bit more work, and I can see you’re in a hurry. Honestly, I really don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Okay, I admit my mind is elsewhere. Fine,” Sue sighed in mock defeat. “I’ll do something for you in return, I promise.” She started packing up her things and leaned over to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Just get me a cookie or something,” you replied with a tired smile, gently brushing Sue’s hand away. You figured you’d probably finish the work faster on your own, and you were running out of time anyway. The lab was already emptying, darkness had fallen outside, your eyes burned from staring at the chemicals for so long, and you’d had more than enough for one day.

After Sue left, you resumed your work, determined to finish everything in one evening. The promise of rest and the satisfaction of completion fuelled you. You were so focused on jotting down your thoughts that you didn’t notice when Viktor sat beside you and leaned over your notes.

“Do you... need help?” His voice was unsure, as if he were asking about something else as well.

You hesitated. Help would certainly be welcome, but Viktor’s presence would also make it harder for you to focus. The final equation seemed to balance out the odds. You looked at him—he looked tired yet sharp. He wore the same green jumper he’d had on that night, with a crisp white shirt collar peeking out from underneath it. His scent was fresh and comforting, and his eyes, full of quiet anticipation, were fixed on you as you calculated your decision. You sighed. Yes, you needed help.

“Alright. Shoot me.”

For a split second, Viktor’s face lit up before he leaned in closer. “You’re pretty far along,” he said, his expression thoughtful, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You can dictate, and I’ll translate it into Heimerdinger’s language?”

“That would honestly be perfect,” you admitted, letting out a huff of relief as you turned your attention back to the chaotic scrawl of notes Sue had left behind. Terrible handwriting.

The two of you worked together in near silence, the hum of the lab equipment and the faint scratching of Viktor’s pen the only sounds between you. You found yourself occasionally distracted by the way Viktor’s long fingers moved as he pointed to your results, his low voice guiding you through adjustments. You tried to stay focused, but every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at him, his concentration a tether pulling your attention away from your notes.

Viktor, for his part, couldn’t help but steal glances at you. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with the sterile air of the lab, and it made something in his chest feel warm, almost achingly so. He bit his lip nervously whenever he realised he’d been staring too long, forcing his attention back to writing.

It took the two of you longer than either of you had expected, but when you finally wrapped up, the lab was completely empty. You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a soft groan of relief.

“That’s it, then,” you said, your voice tired but satisfied. “Thank you, Viktor. Honestly, I’d still be drowning in that mess if you hadn’t—”

“It’s nothing,” he cut you off gently, placing the pen down and leaning back slightly. He watched as you began gathering your things, clearly ready to leave. But before you could stand, he cleared his throat, his voice softer now. “Hey.”

You paused, looking at him.

“Did you…” He hesitated, the words suddenly harder to push out. He fidgeted with the edge of his notebook. “Did you get my text message?”

Of course, you did. You’d seen his stupid, childish message. The ‘I like you,’ had screamed at you from your phone screen for two weeks now, and you’d both loved it and hated it. Who writes ‘I like you’ like a five-year-old? And not only that, who needs to down an entire bottle of whisky to muster the courage to write ‘I like you’?

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You hadn’t expected this. You shifted awkwardly in your chair, avoiding his gaze. “I did,” you said finally, your voice measured, careful.

Viktor’s expression remained unreadable, but his hands tightened around the notebook in front of him. “And?”

You let out a breath, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And… if I’m to rely on you saying or doing something from the heart only when you get yourself blind drunk, that wouldn’t be the best choice for your health, Viktor,” your voice was quiet, your eyes fixed on the workbench in front of you. “And I don’t want to be bad for your health.” You offered him a faint smile and looked down again. “If it was from the heart, in the first place.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded, his gaze dropping to the table. “It was.” It was. And it shamed him deeply that, indeed, he’d needed liquid courage to admit it. Only now did it strike him how awful it must have made you feel. “But I have a… rabbit heart.”

“Am I so terrifying?” you felt mockery twisting itself inside you with anger. Why were you so angry, though? You also had a rabbit heart. You often caught yourself knowing exactly what Viktor was going to say because you used the same words in your history of backing out. Was this the universe having a go at you?

“Yes, you scare the living shit out of me,” he huffed out a shaky laugh, lowering his voice. It was probably the biggest truth he’d told you in all this time.

“Well, this can’t be good for your health either, then, no?” Deflect, deflect, deflect, hide yourself behind that joke. Very well done, you.

“I—” Viktor paused, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Look, I lied. I’m not good with any setup—casual or not. I—” He stopped himself, his eyes flicking briefly to yours before looking away again. He was torn, visibly at war with his own feelings.

You didn’t want to hear him stumble over words again. “Viktor, I get it. It’s fine. We can still be friends?” You tried to search your mind for what you’d want to hear all those times when you told someone politely the relationship wasn’t working for you.

You thought this was it—an offer of friendship. Most people got hurt or annoyed with you, and it made you feel guilty. So, you tried to say something that wouldn’t make him feel guilty. As soon as you said it, you realised that what you actually wanted was for someone not to let you retreat—but it was too late for that.

Viktor took in a shaky breath, his gaze returning to yours, but he still looked uncertain. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t be just your friend.” His hands clenched into fists on the table. “I... I’ve tried to be fine with it, but I’m not. I can’t pretend.”

“But I don’t know how to be anything else,” he added after a beat, his mind flicking back to all the times he’d snuck out of someone’s bedroom or when he found himself alone in the morning, in his own cold, sweaty bed. After some time, it became a habit, a quiet indulgence that carried no consequences, and it aligned very well with his main goal: to make his life more than it was meant to be. No distractions, only his goal. Some distractions, but not too many. Only friendships, and here as well, only the stimulating ones. To keep his brain fed, so his soul could starve.

“I have worked… so hard,” he brushed his hand through his hair. “To get where I am. I was meant to fail, and I haven’t failed once. I haven’t failed a single time, aside from some tiny, insignificant stumbles that eventually lead me to answers anyway. So many times I haven’t failed that I don’t think I know how to,” his voice was quiet, as if admitting something shameful. He said it as though any slip-up could cost him everything he’s worked for.

“I… understand,” you said slowly, piecing together the crumbs of information. Viktor didn’t come from a place of love, like you did. He didn’t come from a place of opportunity. He probably had to claw his way through pompous academics who didn’t take him seriously. You understood that part. But what was your part in turning it all to dust—that eluded you. So you didn’t understand, not entirely.

“Do you?” he looked at you longingly, expectantly, and it made your heart ache. What was it that you were supposed to give him now? A promise you would never hurt him? That you would never distract him or drag his mind away from what’s important?

“Viktor, this shouldn’t be so hard, I’m not some mythical creature,” you said, trying to inject a touch of humour into your voice, but it came out thin, brittle.

Viktor’s gaze softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. “No, you’re not,” he murmured, as if trying to reconcile something inside himself. “But you’re not like anyone else either.”

Your chest tightened at the words, but you quickly pushed it aside, unwilling to let yourself feel vulnerable. You folded your arms across your chest, as if protecting yourself from something you couldn’t name. “I don’t want to be a puzzle for you to solve, Viktor. I don’t want to be some challenge you feel like you need to conquer. That’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. He wanted to argue, to convince you that it wasn’t about conquest, that it was about something deeper, but he could tell it wasn’t the right time. Not yet. “I don’t… I don’t think of you like that,” he said, his voice almost too soft, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you. “I think of you as someone I want to understand, someone who...” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence, the words feeling too heavy in the air.

You shifted in your seat, your eyes narrowing slightly as you considered his words. There was a vulnerability in his voice, a quiet sincerity that you weren’t used to hearing. You almost wanted to reach out, to ease the tension that hung between you, but you held yourself back.

There was a long, aching pause between you before Viktor cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to break the silence. “So,” he said, the words coming out in a lighter tone, “how many do-overs do you think we can have?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a small, rueful smile tugging at your lips. “I find myself hoping that each one is the last one,” you replied dryly, though your heart wasn’t fully in the jest. “Thank you for all the help.”

Viktor smiled, a faint, almost self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Oh, no worries. I’ll see you at the Christmas party?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You nodded, your expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said, your tone neutral, but not dismissive. “Take care, Viktor.”

With that, you parted ways, the lingering tension still hanging between you, neither fully satisfied with the conversation, but both with the understanding that you were somehow still connected—however uncertain that connection was.

You found an unbearable thought gnawing at you—that in this state, the only ‘do-over’ you could count on was friendship, and Viktor couldn’t afford that. Inevitably, it would end with nothing.

***

It wasn’t exactly a party, but the pub was completely packed with people—students, assistants, and random individuals who wandered around campus, their roles in it a complete mystery. Everything was bathed in the warm glow of Christmas decorations, making the space feel even more cramped.

You sat at a small round table with Sue, some familiar faces scattered around, including Jayce and Viktor, who had joined after their TA duties. Sue was mid-sentence when you leaned back in your chair, your eyes wandering. You weren’t in the mood for all the noise tonight. The words blurred around you as you half-listened, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of your glass—a quiet distraction. Viktor was talking to Jayce, his sharp voice cutting through the noise every now and then. His dry wit was always on full display, the kind that kept people around him in that odd mix of awe and wariness.

“You okay?” Sue’s voice brought you back. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, just... tired, I guess,” you said, forcing a polite smile as you took a sip of your drink.

The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, the heat becoming unbearable. The whole scene was so unbearably sweet and cozy that it made you flinch. Your eyes kept glancing over to Viktor, who would immediately look away as soon as your gazes met. You kept thinking about what another do-over could look like and felt yourself growing more and more frustrated with the space between you, even though you were sitting so close to each other. You could feel Sue's eyes on you but couldn’t quite explain why you felt this way.

Sue raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to bail early, I totally get it.”

You hesitated, then gave a half shrug. “I think I’ll head out. Just... not feeling it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Sue replied, offering a quick nod. “See you later?”

“Yeah.” You stood, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. As you made your way through the maze of tables, you could hear Viktor's voice in the background—just enough to make you pause. You could feel his gaze on you, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the exit.

Viktor watched as you stood and walked away, a wave of frustration rising within him, forming itself into a long sigh. He had tried, hadn’t he? He had said things—things he never said to anyone—but now you were leaving, retreating like always. His jaw tightened, and he felt his fingers curl into fists on the table. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not after everything. He should’ve known better, but still, your departure stung.

He couldn’t place why, but it felt like you were slipping away just as he was beginning to reach out. You were both so fucking terrible at talking, at letting yourselves feel anything real. Why did it have to be so difficult?

The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for a moment, it felt like a relief. The street was quiet, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You slid your headphones on and started walking toward the dorms, matching your steps to the rhythm of the song.

You awaited rest and home and being far away from here with utter impatience. Just one more evening of this. Just one more evening of thinking and biting at your own lips, glancing at your phone, and then it would only be your parents, and Hale, and the quiet evenings at Sheffield, for a week.

Against reason, Viktor followed you, his footsteps soft but steady as he stepped out of the pub moments later. His eyes caught sight of your retreating figure, and a small, amused smile played at the corner of his lips. He’d almost not been surprised—almost expected it.

He called out your name, his voice lost to the wind and muffled by the sounds of the night. But you didn’t hear him. Quickening his pace, his breath misted in the cold air. He called again, louder this time, but still, you didn’t turn.

A small part of him considered letting you go, letting you stew in your thoughts, just leaving it for after the break. But the rest of him felt pulled, like a dog on a leash in front of a vet’s door.

You were nearing the entrance to the dorms when you finally paused, taking a deep breath, and tugging your headphones off with a slight wince. The moment you heard your name, you froze, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Hey you!” Viktor’s voice was closer now, cutting through the night. When you turned, you saw him standing at the edge of the walkway, just outside the dorm. His breath came in visible puffs, his chest heaving as if he’d run after you.

“You walk... so fucking fast,” he said, still catching his breath. “I never figured you for the type to run off so bluntly. But I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Yes, just laugh it out. Viktor took a few steps forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” you blinked, your mind racing. You had to admit to yourself that Viktor drunkenly following you from the bar was a coin toss you wouldn’t have bet on. Especially after your last talk. Funny.

“Are you not?” he countered, his words smoother than you expected.

“No. Go back to your pub, Viktor.” Your voice was flat now, each word carefully measured. You exhaled sharply, your shoulders sinking as if the weight of the evening had finally caught up with you. You were so tired of this.

Viktor tilted his head, his smile barely visible in the shadows as he took a step closer. “Eh, make me,” he said softly, though it wasn’t a challenge—not really.

Another step.

“I am so not in the mood for you now,” you muttered, your hands dropping limply by your sides as you turned away, dragging yourself down the corridor toward the elevators. Your voice lacked its usual bite, tinged instead with exhaustion.

“Alright, alright, I’m not drunk, just had one pint. Oh, come on,” Viktor mock-pleaded, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he quickened his pace to catch up with you. “You won’t see me the entire holiday break.”

“And I will savour every single day of this glorious relief from your constant nagging, poking, your sweet side and your dick side, and having fun at my expense,” you snapped, jabbing the elevator button with increasing impatience, your words punctuated by each press.

You were expecting another joke, but Viktor’s hands gripped your waist firmly, twisting you around. Your breath caught as he pulled you flush against him, the heat of his body sharp against the cold you’d carried in from outside.

“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice raw and ragged as his lips found yours. The kiss was unsteady, heated, and messy, tasting faintly of sweet beer and a frustration that mirrored your own. He panted into your mouth, his lips parting just enough to nip at yours.

“Just… shut up, for once,” he murmured, crowding you against the elevator door. It slid open behind you with a soft chime, and you stumbled inside, Viktor’s cane clattering to the floor as he steadied you against the wall. He pulled your turtleneck down to lick your neck greedily over the bite mark he had left there. His hands quickly found their way under your sweater, and he gasped, bemused by your lack of underwear. “No bra?” Again. A low chuckle rumbled against your skin. “Is that your idea of a Christmas present?”

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, your voice still sharp with lingering anger. Your hands pressed against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but the lack of real force and your hands still gripping his coat tightly betrayed you.

“Are you sure?” Viktor smirked, his grip firm as he tilted your chin up, pressing a lingering, deceptively sweet kiss to your lips. “This is your floor,” he said, his voice agonizingly calm as he stepped back, gesturing toward the elevator doors sliding open.

“Or…” His tone shifted, almost teasing, as he pressed the button to close the doors and send them up to his floor instead. “You could come with me. For real, this time.”

You pulled him wordlessly toward you, offering no resistance—nothing more, nothing less. Words had failed you, but your actions were clear. It was enough. Viktor wanted to say, That’s what I thought, the words teasing the edge of his tongue, but he held them back. Instead, he captured your lips again, kissing frantically. He explored your mouth, swallowing the small sounds you made, the elevator a blur as it carried you upward.

By the time you reached his room, Viktor managed to open the door without breaking the kiss, his cane hanging hooked over his arm. You stumbled inside together, the heat between you growing unbearable, and he pressed you firmly against the door, his hands bracing your hips as his lips moved over yours with unrelenting zeal. You pulled him closer, your breath catching as you managed to rasp, “Bed?”

Viktor chuckled softly against your lips; his tone laced with teasing. “Impatient, are we?” But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the way his hands tightened on your hips as he broke the kiss just long enough to guide you further into the room.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice raw as your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him with you.

“Yes. Please, fuck me,” Viktor murmured, sweeping you into another fervent kiss as you stumbled toward the bed. “I’m so tired of you not fucking me.”

You scoffed into his mouth. And who is to blame for that? You sunk into the mattress, pulling Viktor with you by his belt, the cane poking your leg.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” he whined, his voice laced with frustration as his clumsy hands fumbled with your coat. His hasty movements betrayed him, and in the rush, his knee accidentally pressed against your arm.

“Ow!” you winced, your sharp tone softening as you glanced at his face. The irritation melted away when you saw the unabashed eagerness in his expression, the way his brow furrowed in determination despite his lack of grace. “Is this going to be painful?” you asked, your lips quirking in a faint, teasing smile, though your voice still held a trace of genuine concern.

Viktor froze, blinking down at you like a scolded child. “Only if you want it to be,” he muttered, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back to regroup. His fingers moved more carefully now, peeling the coat off from underneath you with exaggerated precision. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Viktor granted you a low chuckle, his lips quirking in that familiar, lopsided smirk. “Ridiculous, perhaps, but effective,” he murmured as he continued with his careful work, peeling away the layers of your clothing like unwrapping a particularly stubborn present.

His own clothes, however, didn’t receive the same treatment. He shed them with reckless abandon, tossing each piece into an ever-growing messy pile near the bed, his leg brace a crown on top of it. His cane clattered softly to the floor as he leaned back for balance, the faintest flush spreading across his cheeks.

Once you were both were bare, he ran his palms gently along your sides and pressed his face to your hip, your belly, your neck, inhaling your skin. “God, you are so infuriating,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your body.

He glued himself to you, his hands roaming wherever they could reach, as if this were the moment he’d been waiting to happen for the longest time. And it was, of course. The decision to toss everything aside and just jump in might have been reckless, but he had no capacity to decide otherwise.

“Infuriating?” you laughed, feigning offense. “Is that the way you treat all of your conquests? Make them follow you around by the nose for months, until your resolve finally breaks after one pint?”

“No, only you,” he replied smoothly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He added with a sly smirk, “It’s my love language with you.”

“Love?” you repeated, voice laced with teasing incredulity, but the hesitation in your tone betrayed how the word caught you off guard.

“Shut up,” Viktor muttered, his hand gliding up your side as he kissed you, silencing your laughter before you could push further. “Attraction,” he murmured against your neck, his lips pressing a lingering kiss there. “Want,” he added, his teeth grazing your breast, earning a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Admiration,” he said, coming back up to meet your eyes and give you a slow, steady kiss. He took your fingers into his mouth and watched your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting.

His voice dipped lower, teasing, and dangerous. “Anyway, is that not what we have been doing?” His hands explored the meat of your ass with a firm grip, his touch both intoxicating and commanding as he pressed himself flush against your core. He shifted against you with a kind of intimacy that had your breath hitching.

“Have you not been loving me all this time?” His words, soft and taunting, carried a heat that matched the tension thrumming between you. His hand moved down between your thighs to scoop your wetness and lick it off his fingers, as he made sure you were watching. “Ah, it seems,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “you’ve been loving me back all along.”

You trembled under him, your breath catching as your hands gripped his shoulders. A quiet plea escaped your lips, barely audible but filled with vulnerability. “Don’t be mean, Viktor.”

For a moment, he stilled, his expression softening as he pulled back to look at you. His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a flicker of something warmer, deeper. “Mean?” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “No. Not with you.”

The teasing edge in his voice melted away as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate, as though trying to convey what words couldn’t. He was so bad at talking if you thought he was being mean. His hands cradled your face, and his next words came as a low promise against your skin. “I could never be mean to you.”

You huffed softly, a half-laugh escaping you as memories of all the times he’d actually been mean flitted through your mind. “Liar,” you muttered against his lips, though there was no venom in your tone. Instead, you kissed him back longingly, your fingers threading into his hair as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

Viktor exhaled a shaky breath, his control fraying under your touch. “Perhaps,” he admitted with a faint, self-deprecating smile, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But you give as good as you get, don’t you?” he said playfully, reaching over to pull a condom out of his bedside drawer and put it on swiftly. Then, he grabbed a spare pillow to prop his leg. His belly was tied into a knot, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, as he placed one hand between where your bodies were going to meet to align himself at the entrance.

He studied your face, as if to check if there was any resistance left. But you only looked at him with wide eyes, your hands fisting the bed sheet. He swept through his body in a final calculation of what could go wrong—he wasn’t drunk, that was a good start. His leg, eh, not perfect, but he should be able to pull this off. Did he want to love you or tease you? He had forgotten which one it was. A shuddery breath escaped him when your bodies finally connected—he entered you slowly, holding back to lay on top of you.

The first thrust was so deliberate, so slow, so overwhelming that you both moaned into each other's mouths. Your brows tied themselves together, your palms stiff in hesitation over his shoulders, as the feeling of relief surged through you. A relief of finally not being empty.

The only movement Viktor allowed himself was the roll of his hips as he sunk inside you, beat after beat. His arms caged you in, one of his hands gripping your shoulder, the other cradling the base of your skull, as he kept your faces close so he could study you, watch you. He stared at you obscenely, taking in your expressions, disbelief wrenching breath out of his lungs. You really wanted him. You were holding him in a vacuous trap, making it hard to pull out and push back in.

And this wasn’t new. People wanted him, he knew that. They wanted him for this—for a fun fuck—and when they continued to want him afterward, it felt like a fluke. So he shut it down. And it made him feel powerful. No, it made him feel weak. It made his weakness powerful. It gave him the power to disappear from it, from himself, to not be present.

The fact that he was present now, attentive, was rather new for him. Not entirely—he’d had a glimpse of what it could be that night when you were high together, but he hadn’t dared breach the boundary of clothing then. This, though, was entirely different. He watched you so carefully, studying every reaction to his touch. He pushed where you gasped and retreated where you winced. Your kisses were as hungry as his, and it made him feel so full. The fuck was more than fun. It made him feel powerful in a way that didn’t make him feel weak.

He tightened his grip, his forehead resting on yours as he buried himself deep inside, thrust after thrust. His mouth open against you, breathing in every gasp, every whimper you were willing to give him. His pace was even, unwavering, as he murmured against your lips, “You’ve been giving me so much grief.”

He locked eyes with you, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he added, “But it really feels like you’ve been loving me back. Haven’t you?” His voice was soft, as though waiting for you to answer not just with words, but with the quiet truth in your eyes.

You slid your fingers into his hair, pulling him in for another desperate kiss, and Viktor caught a faint, barely audible ‘yes,’ offered to drown deep in his throat, traveling straight to his heart, as if you were offering him a secret you hadn’t meant to give away. The sound stirred something deep within him, and as you arched against him, your breath catching, he deepened the kiss and quickened his pace. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, murmuring quiet praises, each word filled with reverence as you moved together toward completion.

He slid one hand to the nape of your neck, another snaked itself between your bodies, his fingers parting you as he whispered softly, “Oh, my girl.” Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders and you muffled your own moan against his mouth, lips and noses brushing against each other. He rubbed lazy circles on your clit, a smile blooming on his face when he felt your back arching beneath him, hips pressing upward to meet his, your cunt clenching around his cock in a tight, needy hug.

He felt your thighs squeezing his hips, your walls fluttering, pulling him deeper inside you, with you. You dug your nails into his shoulders, lips parted pressed against his, foreheads pressed together mingling droplets of sweat into one.

You felt a sudden urge to say, “Thank you,” distorted by a loud moan as you came on his cock, on his fingers, your body tensing up and bending to the sound of his name falling from her lips. It took a long time, and you thought it would never stop, your climax blinding, contorting your body around him with a force to bend and crush.

Viktor’s mind got invaded by a thought of how great it felt to make a girl such as yourself lose control over her own muscles. How it had made him grow taller and bigger, his heart swollen with your grace, his lips bruised from your teeth. Slowly, he worked you through each spasm, and when you were ready, he retreated his hand to wrap both arms around you and buried his face in your neck. His breathing jagged, teeth sinking into your shoulder to not say too much at the sudden tightness around his cock.

His rhythm began to stutter, movements growing urgent by the minute as he buried himself within you up to the hilt. His breath was uneven, his muscles flexing and twisting. He felt your core hugging his cock so tight, he couldn’t hold back his own panting, as if he were a teenager all over again. He moved his face to brush against yours, whispered your name again, voice trembling, and he came with one thick, everlasting pang, whimpering weakly into your mouth.

His body melted into yours with a long, contented sigh, his arms wrapped tightly around you, stomachs and chests pressed, rising and falling together. You stayed like that in silence for a few moments, not moving, just touching, just breathing, just being.

Finally, Viktor rolled you both to the side, his leg hooked over your hip, fingers threading through your hair, and gave you an almost solemn look.

“What is this face?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb across his lip.

He sucked on it slowly, not breaking eye contact. “I never thought you would be so…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and just as you braced yourself for another joke, he finished, “wonderful.”

You managed only to whisper a quiet “Viktor—,” your grip tightening around him as the weight of this little praise crushed you. As his eyes crushed you, his warmth crushed you, as you crushed yourself with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

Viktor pulled back just a few inches, his gaze searching yours. “Are you going away for Christmas tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. Normal.

You nodded slowly, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you answered, “Yeah.”

“Will you stay?” Please, stay. Please don’t have me wake up alone tomorrow. A weakness crept back in.

You nodded against his neck. A quiet breath escaped Viktor’s lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, pulling you back against him. He sighed softly, the sound almost like a weight lifting. He didn’t speak for a few moments, just holding you as if afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter now. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain my absence to Sue though.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a playful smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’ll just tell her you got really into the holiday spirit and had to spend the night with your favourite TA.”

You chuckled softly, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’m sure she’ll believe that,” you replied, though the words felt lighter now, softer.

Viktor’s expression shifted to one of mock seriousness as he pulled you a little closer. “But tomorrow, when the morning comes,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’ll have to call it in. You caught me drunk, used me for your advantage,” he paused, his eyes glinting with mischief, “and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

You let out a small laugh, your face flushing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. “Selling me out already, I see how this will go,” you said, teasing him back. “I’m sure you won’t mind telling them how you practically begged me to stay the night and cuddle you.”

Viktor smiled, but his eyes softened. “I won’t,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple again, holding you in the quiet aftermath. The moment felt almost unreal—so intimate, so fragile—and yet, there you were. He wouldn’t dare break it by asking for more. And even though Viktor’s chest was still swollen with fear, his mind drifted to sleep in your arms.

Your own mind, however, was restless. As the high of your connection faded, you woke up early, your thoughts gnawing at you. Viktor was fast asleep, his expression so peaceful that you couldn’t believe he had a bad bone in his body. Yet, you had been stabbed so many times. It wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be over, just like that. What if he was right, and you weren’t meant to share the awkwardness of the morning? What if he tried to shrug it off once he woke up? Would you survive if he did?

No. You wouldn’t.

Cursing yourself, you slid out of bed, put your clothes back on, and gave Viktor, who was sleeping soundly, one last glance that tore through your soul. And left.

***

The morning light crept through the gaps in the blinds, painting pale stripes across the sheets. Viktor stirred, his body heavy and warm, though there was an odd hollowness in the bed. He reached out instinctively, the fog of sleep not yet cleared, his fingers brushing against nothing but the cold fabric of the mattress. His eyes blinked open.

The room was silent.

He sat up slowly, scanning the space, the sense of emptiness clawing at him as the realisation began to take shape. You were gone.

The sheets beside him were rumpled, but the space was cold, long abandoned. For a moment, he stared at the spot you’d occupied, trying to convince himself you might still be here. Perhaps you were in the bathroom, or in his tiny kitchen searching for tea—but no sound of movement met his ears.

A chill crept through his chest, spreading outwards, a tight knot forming in his stomach. You left.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements clumsy, hurried, his leg straining without the brace. There had to be something—a note, a message, anything that might explain. The bedside table was empty. The dresser? Nothing. Viktor opened a drawer, then another, rifling through with increasing desperation, though he knew even as he searched how ridiculous it was. You wouldn’t leave a note in a drawer.

His gaze snapped to his phone. He lunged for it, unlocking the screen with trembling fingers. Nothing. No missed calls. No texts.

He stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the empty screen. His chest tightened, his breaths coming faster, each one shallower than the last. Of course.

What had he been thinking? That after all his fumbling, after all his glaring flaws, you would stay? That someone like you, bright and untamed, would want someone like him—a man who could barely navigate his own feelings without tripping over them?

Right. His fingers clenched around the phone, the pressure digging into his palm. How stupid. How painfully, pathetically stupid. How weak.

He sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands. The weight of the silence pressed down on him. Every echo in the room seemed to mock him. The bed felt too big now, the walls closing in too fast. His mind replayed your smile, your laugh, the warmth in your eyes last night, and it made his chest ache. How could you think you’d earned something like this?

And yet, beneath the sinking despair, anger simmered. At himself. At you. At the cruel absurdity of it all. You’d kissed him, held him, and for a brief moment, he’d thought you were standing on equal ground. But the truth was stark now, laid bare in her absence: you’d left. Or maybe that was an equal ground, after all. Now, you were truly even.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his spiralling thoughts. He didn’t answer immediately, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the knock came again, louder this time.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s familiar voice called from the other side. “You ready? We’ve got to leave in half an hour, mate.”

Viktor swallowed hard; his throat dry. His hands slowly dropped from his face as he stared at the door. Jayce’s voice was too cheerful, too ordinary, too far removed from the storm brewing inside him. He wanted to shout at him, to tell him to go away, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I’ll be ready,” he croaked after a pause, his voice hoarse and thin.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, then the sound of Jayce’s footsteps retreating down the hall. Viktor exhaled shakily, his gaze drifting back to the rumpled sheets beside him. Forcing himself to move, he stood and began to gather his things. Each motion felt mechanical, hollow. The knot in his chest didn’t loosen, but he pushed it down, swallowing it whole. It was almost Christmas. He had to pretend. At least for a little while longer.

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