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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

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Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

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tainsan · 1 month

Text

misfits XIII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content

⇥ word count: 9.1k

⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.

The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.

‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.

The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.

Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.

Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep.

Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.

"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.

You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.

Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.

You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.

“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat.

"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.

San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.

In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern.

"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."

Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice.

"Off? What do you mean?"

San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.

"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."

Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.

"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"

San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.

Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”

Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.

“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.

"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”

San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words.

“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."

San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.

Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.

Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.

Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.

Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.

Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer.

"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade.

"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties.

Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.

You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.

Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display.

San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."

Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."

Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."

Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."

As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.

Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?"

Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.

Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.

However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.

"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.

But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions.

Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.

Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions.

Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour.

Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."

San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."

Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."

Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."

Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."

Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."

Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."

Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."

With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation.

As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.

In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.

“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."

You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.

Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.

"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"

The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.

In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.

Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.

With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."

Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."

"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.

Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.

"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.

Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support.

Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.

"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.

The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable.

You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye.

As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.

"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.

Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"Anytime," he reassures you.

Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.

“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”

You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.

"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.

Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.

“It’s okay ____.”

“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”

The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.

“I don't know if I can.”

The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.

“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”

“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky.

Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.

“What messages?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”

“What do you mean? What do they say?”

“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.”

You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter.

It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.

"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."

“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”

Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."

His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.

You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you.

Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.

A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.

Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.

"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."

In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.

In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.

"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.

Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face.

"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.

“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot.

“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.

“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.

Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity.

Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”

His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.

A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.

But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.

In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.

“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.

Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.

“I want to say yes.”

Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.

“Come, we need to talk to the boys.”

Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.

“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.

"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.

"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”

The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.

“Let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.

Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.

It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.

"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.

Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."

Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.

Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.

San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.

Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.

Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.

Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.

Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.

They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable.

The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment.

San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.

“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out.

Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.

“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.

“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”

“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.

“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face.

“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.

“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.” Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.

“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.

Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.

“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.

"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.

Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.

The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.

San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.”

“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.

“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.”

"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.

San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.

The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.

It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here.

"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.

In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.

Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.

San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.

Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.

Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.

Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies.

Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.

Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise.

In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.

The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.

It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?”

Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity.

"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.

Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.

“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.

Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.

Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face.

Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.

Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."

Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.

San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.

Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.

“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”

“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.

“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail.

“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin.

“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”

“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.

The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.

The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?

“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.

“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.

"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.

The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.

Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.

Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."

The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.

Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."

His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.

The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.

Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.

In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.

“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.

The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.

Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.

San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.

Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.

The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them.

Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.

While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.

"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."

Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.

His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.

Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.

----

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp @liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things

im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.

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5ueckers · 2 months

Text

pretty girls

pairing : azzi fudd x reader

warnings : smut.

notes : azzi 😍💞💓🌸💗💗🪷💖🥰💝💘🌼🌺🌺❣️💞💞💞 thats all.

words : 1898

you and azzi collapse onto the couch in the dorm, exhausted. drunk. annoyed.

tonight was a dud, to say the least. you’ve barely had any time to go out and have fun, like you should as college students, because of basketball and junior year being the absolute worst when it comes to your workload. and then, on the one night you do have off, free of practice for the next couple days and all your homework turned in, both the guys you planned on spending it with turned out to be absolute dicks.

yours had seemed nice enough, in the beginning. he’d been the one ask you out after over a week of staring you down in your shared econ class, take you, azzi, and the football player she’s been talking to out to some club in hartford, and then back to his place after a couple hours of dancing and taking shots. but just as he’d gotten you back to his dorm and out of your clothes, he’d said something so boyishly disgusting, it’d taken real reserve for you to not to slap him before pushing him off of you, re–dressing, collecting your things, and getting the hell out of there.

it’d been pure coincidence that azzi texted asking if you could meet with her as you’d stumbled out of werth tower, phone in one hand and your heels in clutched in the other. you’re not sure what happened with her and her football player— it couldn’t have been good, judging by how her makeup was running. you’d felt bad, and held her hand the whole uber ride back to the dorm, the pad of your thumb caressing the back of her hand.

“want a water?” you ask the girl, tiredly. you’re still very much inebriated and standing could result in a pretty embarrassing fall.

she nods, though, and so you decide to risk it, stumbling into the kitchen and at one point using the wall for support. you grab two bottled waters and pad back into the living room, handing one to azzi and sighing as you sit back down next to her, close. you can feel the heat from her body radiating onto you.

“that fucking sucked,” you gripe, recalling the night, earning a weak, drunken laugh from azzi.

“dudes…” she says, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her water, eliciting giggles from yourself. a single word is enough to get her point across; men fucking suck.

“ugh, and i’m still wet,” you murmur to yourself, the alcohol in your system removing any filter you’d have otherwise. you and azzi are close, so this is probably the least provocative thing you’ve said to her tonight; you both laugh at the statement. you shift uncomfortably and tug at the end of your dress. you need to get out of this chiffon and take a long, hot shower.

azzi turns to look at you, one of her curls falling out of place. she still looks so pretty, even though her makeup had gotten messy. her big brown eyes and perfect, clear skin and full lips. how could anyone fumble her and live with themselves?

“what?” she giggles at how long you’ve been looking at her.

“nothin’,” you smile back. “you’re just too pretty to be crying over some guy.”

then, azzi leans in and kisses you. she pulls back to assess your reaction, before kissing you again when you don’t look petrified or disgusted. you let her slip her tongue into your mouth this time, and surprise yourself with the little moan that comes with it, eyes fluttering closed. your back naturally arches to push up against her.

you lose track of how long you make out before azzi’s hand finds it way to your knee, resting there gingerly, “can i…?”

“like, finger me?” you ask dumbly, because fingering is definitely a step above kissing. plenty of girls that are straight and just friends kiss each other, even make out. but you and azzi are crossing into the territory of actually having sex.

seeing as you play basketball, the conversation of sexuality has obviously come up before, often. every other morning, actually, as paige feels the need to recount her sexcapades to you all. you hadn’t really thought about yours until you got to uconn, and then decided to quietly give yourself the title of unlabeled, while still just hooking up with guys because that’s all you knew. you didn’t think azzi…

“it doesn’t have to mean anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she assures you, her tone surprisingly casual, like she’s trying to convince you to try a new drink at the bar or attempt a shot you haven’t tried before at practice, not breach the basis of your close but purely platonic relationship. “we’re just having fun.”

you consider your position— on the couch, in the dorm, basically out in the open. the other girls had gone out, too, to ted’s, of course. but knowing them, with a schedule this clear, they won’t be home any time soon. and wet is an understatement; you’re practically aching down there, you need to be touched so bad. what could it possibly hurt?

“okay,” you say, finally, a smile slowly spreading over your features. azzi pecks your lips once more before sliding her hand further up your leg.

never having done this before, you’re nervous as you part your thighs, just slightly, still confined by the tight dress, but then her hand is there, warm palms caressing your skin and inching closer and closer towards your core. you gasp when her fingers finally graze the thong you’d put on, feeling a rush of wetness between your folds at the small contact.

“is this still okay?” your friend asks, voice barely above a whisper, and you nod, almost embarrassingly quickly. so she keeps going, experimentally rubbing you through your underwear and you keep gasping, bordering on whimpering with every touch.

“here,” azzi climbs off of the couch and positions herself between your knees, encourages you to push yourself forward by grabbing onto your hips and finally pushing up that dress. when she finally gets you out of your thong, carelessly tossing the garment aside, it’s less like she’s actually trying to get you off and more like curious touching, unknowingly sending you closer and closer to the edge as she spreads your lips open, drags her index finger up from your slit to your clit. “you are really wet,” she muses, pulling her hand away, bringing her thumb and index finger together just to pull them apart and watch as a thin string of your arousal connects them. you blush, suddenly embarrassed, thighs twitching. “it’s okay, just relax for me.”

she smiles up at you so sweetly, and you’re trying to, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and trying to even out your breathing, but then she’s bringing her face toward your cunt, flattening her tongue against you and licking upward, sending shockwaves up your spine, and you can’t help but squirm and whine. “open your legs a little wider, y/n… good girl,” she instructs, and your head practically feels like it’s swimming at the words, unbelievably sexy in her voice.

“a–az,” you want desperately to grasp at her hair, but know how long it took for her to style her curls, so you opt to just fist your hands into the sofa and cry out when she sucks your clit into her mouth.

the way azzi’s using her mouth so well and holding your legs open with a firm grip on your thighs makes you wonder if this is her first time with another girl, too. she doesn’t look grossed out by the taste or confused on how to make you feel good. if anything, when she drags her tongue down from your clit to your entrance, licking into you, she seems all too happy to responsible for the long, drawn out moan it elicits from you, and repeats the motion until you’re practically crying. when you feel your heart start to hammer against your chest, you know you’re not going to last much longer.

azzi removes her mouth from your pussy, but quickly replaces it with a pair of fingers, working over your clit at high speed while she presses wet kisses to your thighs. all it takes is a few more flicks of her wrist to make you cum, thighs trembling and toes curling into the carpet. she doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your moans turn into winces, signaling that you’re being overstimulated.

you feel almost delirious as azzi climbs into your lap, arms looping around your neck. it feels almost natural for you to place your hands on her waist, looking up at her like she hung the moon. “was i good?”

“i can’t feel my legs, i think,” you rasp in response, earning laughter from the girl, before she leans down to kiss you, the taste of your own cum potent on her lips and tongue.

as the kiss intensifies, you just go with the flow, letting your hands slip past the hem of the crop top azzi had worn. you push the fabric up until its bunched up at her chest, glad to find she went braless, and, tentatively, take her breasts into your hands, fondling them gently. azzi chuckles at your obvious nervousness and lack of experience, but her laughter quickly melts into soft moans as you take one into your mouth, sucking firmly— you don’t think you’ve ever heard a prettier sound. you don’t think you’re going to be able to just go without ever hearing that sound again.

releasing her nipple, you let your free hand travel down to the button on azzi’s shorts, popping it open, and pulling down the zipper with haste. despite the constricting denim, your hand still fits into the opening, past the hem of her panties. you figure it can’t be much different than getting yourself off with your own fingers, so you just go by what you’d do if you were on your own, rubbing slow circles into azzi’s clit to work her up before quickening the pace.

she buries her face into your neck, moans muffled as her hold on you tightens— you take that, and how wet she is, as a sign that you’re doing it right, and continue until you feel her physically shaking in your arms. “fuck, y/n, i’m gonna—” she cuts herself off with a high–pitched moan, and you continue to rub her clit through her orgasm until she stops grinding down against your hand. you rub her back, also, feeling that you’re actually kind of good at this. that you could get used to it.

the exhaustion from the night seems to hit you both like a brick, all of a sudden, and you both just sort of slump over in that position, limbs tangled and all.

#fic : pretty girls.#uconn wbb #azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #wlw smut #i was going to write more of an ending to this #like smth funny or yk actually conclusive #but then i was like nah lol so just have this as it is #i just got a spinal fusion too so yall not allowed to call it bad either 😝

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