#2/3 of all the games we had were defense

[trustymikh]

Misery

a very bad no good day of playing support ft. @janayuga

#2/3 of all the games we had were defense #no hate towards widows or hanzos on their own but 2 snipers are always such a shitshow #just why #mik draws #mercy overwatch #moira overwatch #moira o'deorain #angela ziegler #overwatch 2 #overwatch #Fanart #digital art #digital drawing

[mousy-nona]

Because I'm a sucker for seeing Vox lose it over RadioApple, and also them dancing, maybe a thing where RadioAaple both a little tipsy, dance in Lucifer's room late at night. Vox sees them on his drone and freaks because 1) Alastor is letting himself be unguarded with a person 2) Alastor is dancing and 3) Alastor has, in fact, made nice with the King like Vox was afraid of. Very nice by the looks of it.

“Do you ever think you may have a problem?”

That was Velvette, who was using her best “let’s not piss off the crazy man” voice. 

“No.”

“Not even a little one?”

“No.”

Valentino and Velvette exchanged telling looks, which Vox promptly ignored. He had more important things to worry about, like keeping this stupid drone in the air. Maneuvering the machine itself was easy, but getting around the electromagnetic force field Alastor had set up around the hotel’s perimeter was a whole lot trickier. Vox had been flying in circles for hours, trying to find a weak spot in Alastor’s defenses. 

(He knew it’d been hours because Velvette had started shooting worried glances at him around hour two, Valentino had showed up around hour five, and they’d started a game of rock-paper-scissors to figure out who was going to do a wellness check on him around hour six.)

“Ah-ha!” Vox screamed, jabbing both fists in the air when the force field flexed and glitched, creating a half second window of opportunity. He urged the drone forward, barely zipping past before the shield re-formed. “Boo-yah! Who’s your daddy?” 

Valentino smirked and took in a long drag of his pipe. “Vox, baby, not outside the bedroom.” 

Vox’s metal heart – the same one he always denied having – started beating faster as the camera zoomed closer and closer to the hotel. He zipped to Alastor’s radio tower first, then his room, frowning slightly when all he found was a half-eaten deer, a cooling cup of coffee, and a discarded coat.

From behind him, Velvette clapped her hands with an annoyed huff of relief. “Oh, well, looks like the asshole is out. Too bad, so sad. Can we please get back to something actually fucking important?” 

But Vox shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s 11 o’clock. Alastor usually finishes his business before seven so he can have dinner at eight, or else he gets too hungry to do–” He trailed off when he saw the look on both their faces. They were both staring at him as if he was a terminal patient, come down with an incurable case of Alastor-itis. 

He sighed and re-focused on the screen. “It just doesn’t make sense, okay?”

The library. The lobby. The kitchen. Alastor was nowhere to be found.

Then Vox had a horrible thought. He remembered the rumors flying around town, the wild laughs of excitement and the curses emanating from the hotel recently. He remembered Alastor’s most recent broadcast (“Folks, when living with an annoying roommate, always remember to assert your dominance wherever possible”). And most of all, he remembered Alastor’s smug face as he strolled down the street, humming merrily to himself as he twirled an unfamiliar white top hat on his staff. 

He remembered the strange apple that had appeared on the top right of the hotel, just down the hall from Alastor. 

His heart in his throat, he slowly moved the drone higher, then higher still. Don’t be there, don’t be there, don’t be there –

Velvette and Vox went quiet at the scene that appeared on the screen. Alastor was there all right, but he wasn’t alone. As if he’d suddenly downloaded a virus, Vox could only process what he was seeing in chunks.

He saw the record player first, oddly enough. An old-timey song was playing, static crackling and popping as a low sweet croon, somehow both deep and high, filled the room. 25%.

The room was dark, but a few candles and duck-shaped lamps were gleamed with a heavenly light, washing the pair slowly revolving in the center of the room in a seductive golden glow. 50%. 

The king of hell was there. The expression on his face was…tender. His head was tucked into Alastor’s narrow chest, one hand on Alastor’s shoulder and the other clasped in Alastor’s hand. His eyes were sparkling, almost overfilled with a nameless emotion that Vox knew all too well. Alastor’s hand was curled around his waist protectively (possessively). 75%. 

And finally, Vox saw Alastor. Really saw him, as if for the first time, because this wasn’t his Alastor. His Alastor was always one step ahead, always untouchable, cold, cruel, and capable of truly unspeakable acts of violence with an effortless charm that made his blood boil with envy and need at the same time. 

But the Alastor in front of him…his coat was off. For the first time in fifty years, Vox saw Alastor’s bare skin, his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he allowed another living soul to see him undressed. Unguarded. His eyes, always so alert and aware, were closed. 

Worst of all was his smile. It looked soft. Gentle – or whatever passed for gentle with Alastor. As Vox watched, Lucifer’s lips moved. The words were too soft for the drone to pick up, but whatever it was, Alastor laughed. Not in a mocking or teasing way, but an actual, genuine laugh, as if Alastor was a real boy with a real heart.

100%.

Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Vox through the screen. The wicked smirk that curled his lips was the last thing the drone ever saw as it glitched, red shaking and warping the feed until it went completely dead, and the three of them were left staring at a black screen. 

Silence reigned. Then – “Well, I’ll be. Looks like the deer found himself a doe.”

Velvette shot Valentino a warning look, then took a hesitant step forward. “Vox – “ Velvette started, but Vox started cackling. Wild, out of control, utterly insane laughs ripped from his wires as his monitor-face went haywire. 

“I am going to kill that motherfucker!”

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #vox is Jealous with a capital J #alastor #hazbin #vox #duckiedeer #prompts #asks

[azzibuckets]

now that we don’t talk part 1 [paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige break up and neither of you know how to move on properly with your life

a/n: decided to go for some angst again…didn’t really have an aim or a direction when writing this so not sure if i should turn this into a series or not ? lmk what yall think

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

The First Week

In the first week, Paige had fallen into her daily routine. Her moments of forgetfulness were instinctual; she’d laid a dollop of minty Crest toothpaste on her blue toothbrush before doing the same thing to your red one, leaving it hanging over the edge of the counter.

The first time she did it, she’d hadn’t even noticed. It was only when she’d turned her mouth to catch the water under the faucet that she’d spotted your toothbrush that she’d set up, ready with Crest, as if you’d pop in any moment to stick it in your mouth and start scrubbing. Paige had almost choked on the water she’d been gurgling, grief worming its way up her throat and making it hard to breathe.

Heaving, she’d stood over the sink, hand gripping both sides of the counter to support herself until her knuckles turned white. It took all her strength not to buckle over from the precipitous wave of agony that had collided into her with gut-wrenching speed.

But for some reason, Paige had stuck your toothbrush under the stream of water then placed it carefully back in its cup. And so she’d made the same mistake the day after. This time, when she realized what she’d done, it wasn’t the weight of sadness that compressed her lungs, but a brewing storm of fury. Her vision had gone red, and she’d grabbed the toothbrush and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could, with a strength that she didn’t even know that she’d still had. And this time, when Paige stared at the toothpaste dripping slowly down the wall, mocking her as it made a mess on the floor, the counter couldn’t save her. She’d succumbed to the force of her fury dragging her down, and had crumpled to the floor, sobs racking her body.

The First Month

Your room was dark, in almost sub-freezing temperatures with the windows wide open to welcome in the frosty, bone-chilling winter air that Connecticut was known for. The only light in the room came from the dim glow of your laptop screen, opened live to the UConn women’s basketball game playing live on ESPN.

At first, you’d attempted to be nonchalant whenever Paige sunk yet another basket with ease, making the crowd and commentators going feral as she celebrated with her signature moves. But as the game between UConn and USC got closer and closer, you couldn’t help but smile when Paige crossed over her defense, sending them flying to the floor and leaving her wide open to score yet another 3. It reminded you all too well of the Paige you’d met and fallen in love with, whose confidence on the court had made you start viewing her as more than just your teammate.

But any trace of smile on your face quickly vanished once you watched Paige’s post-game interview during the livestream. “You’ve had quite a run this season despite being out for most of your sophomore and junior year due to injury. Who would you like to thank for your unpredented comeback?”

“I’d like to thank God. He’s been with me through everything, given me trials to test my resilience. In fact, he’s made me stronger than ever.” Paige had paused. You’d recognized her hesitance; the way she nibbled her bottom lip, her mouth half open as she debated a response, the uncertainty in her eyes as they flickered. But she seemed to recover from any reluctance, and what she said next made your heart drop. “I’d also like to thank my girlfriend, Leslie.” She motioned to someone off camera, and soon the frame was filled with tousled brown hair and soft green eyes.

Paige pulled her in close, and your world spun as you watched Paige, your Paige, press her lips against the brunette. Your hands had reached up to tear your headphones off your head, unable to further listen to the claps and hoots of the crowd along with the cooing of the commentators without feeling the need to throw up. But before you could, Paige had started speaking again. Your hands froze. You hated yourself for it, but you had to listen.

“She’s been with me through everything, from freshman year to now. She was my number one supporter when I got injured.” She wrapped her arm around Leslie’s waist, staring intently at the camera, and never before had you been this sickened staring at the blue eyes you’d once adored, could’ve spent hours getting lost in. “But even outside of my injury, Les has been on my side. Especially with all the immature drama that happened on the court last year, she was really a clear voice in all of that. So I’m pretty grateful for her.”

Leslie’s mouth split into a grin, and she turned to pull Paige in for another kiss, and that was when you slammed your laptop so hard that when you opened it the next morning, you were surprised to see that the screen hadn’t shattered.

You were not someone who cried. Your family members, your friends, Paige could all attest to that. But the torment that was clawing its way through your body, threatening to suffocate you, finally exploded. Tears had surged from your eyes, seemingly never ending, and you’d cried so much that night that it suddenly made sense why you’d almost never cried before; it was like all the tears in your life had been pent up, waiting for this moment, for when the pin fell.

That night was the lowest you’d ever felt in your life, and possibly even the lowest you’ve ever acted - blinded by a jealous rage over the girl that Paige had always promised you not to worry about, the girl Paige was basically making out with on live television just one month after you guys had broken up (and when it’d taken her two years to show PDA with you), you’d gone on all your social media accounts and blocked Paige on every single one of them.

Then an idea came to you. An act of retaliation that would hurt Paige as much as she hurt you. So you’d reopened Twitter, unblocked Paige. You’d scrolled until you found the perfect tweet. Your thumb had hovered for a split second over the like button, haunted by images of Paige’s hand trailing your stomach, her hair brushing your eyes, her mouth on your neck, before it was violently replaced by the image of Paige locking lips with the brunette flooding your mind, causing you to jam your thumb down with ferocity on the like button. You’d slammed the final nail in the coffin by deleting the app so that you couldn’t go back and undo your action before word got around to Paige.

The First Year

You thought you knew grief. You thought you’d familiarized yourself with every aspect of mourning: the realization in the morning, when your eyes open and you lose the blissful state of dreaming and you’re confronted with the harsh truths of the world. Or the late nights, when you’re restless and can’t sleep because of jealousy plaguing your mind. Even the deep longing of missing someone’s touch so bad that you swear that you can almost almost smell their perfume.

So you thought you knew grief - until your grandma died. It had been a matter of time. She’d had breast cancer, and for years now the doctors had been saying any time. But that still didn’t prepare you for the overwhelming pain that consumed all your senses, making it hard to think or eat or sleep or even breathe.

The first few nights after you received the news, you stared at the ceiling, unblinking until the early hours of the morning when the sun started creeping up through your windows. But you couldn’t even cry; you felt like a broken faucet. What the fuck was wrong with you? Sobbing over your stupid ex that you’d broken up with an entire year ago, but unable to shed a tear for your grandma, the woman who had single-handedly raised you. You were exhausted to the point of no return. When would everything stop hurting?

You’d only torn your eyes from your ceiling when your phone had lit up. It was 4 AM, and you wondered who it could be. You checked your phone, and every part of your body froze when you read the notifications.

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

I’m so sorry

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

I just heard the news

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

Don’t know if you’re even active on here anymore but it’s the only way I could reach you. If you see this, I just want to ask you to not keep your grief to yourself. Isolating yourself won’t make the pain go away. Make sure to talk to someone

Your heart had ached, your phone trembling in your hand. Because Paige had cared enough to send you a message, on the same app where you’d given the tabloids a wet dream and caused the UConn fandom to go into a spiral by liking a hate tweet about Paige. She’d cared enough to disregard all that to make sure you were okay. But she still hadn’t cared enough to offer to be that someone that she wanted you to talk to so bad.

So you’d left her on read, without responding. Had slipped back into your sheets, your head pounding and your lungs aching. This time the tears fell out easily.

#paige bueckers #uconnwbb #wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers x you #angst

[mysticfalls01]

First Day

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After the media photos you went to the Wonze household. You asked Lucy who was teaching her Spanish, you wanted to learn the language so you could have a better communication with the team and the fans. Barca made the effort to sign you so least you could do was to try to speak Spanish. After a while you told them that you wanted to rest so you could be ready for tomorrow.

As soon as you entered the guest room you called Leah.

“y/n!! I’ve seen the pictures that Barca posted! I hate to admit it, but Barcelona’s jerseys really suit you.”

“Thanks Lee! I can’t believe it really happened. I’m really here.”

Leah immediately saw how your eyes shined when you told her everything you did during your day, how the girls treated you during your short interaction with them and how everything went with Jonatan.

Leah knew that you had found your home. During your whole time at Arsenal, you did everything you could for the club however, you never talked about the club with so much passion as you were talking about Barcelona and Leah couldn’t have been happier for you.

“Sis, I’m so glad for you. You are making your dreams come true.”

“Yeah, I must thank you for that. If you hadn’t talked with me, I would probably have signed the extension. So, thank you Lee, thank you for being the best twin I could have. You are the most important person in life so I wouldn’t had been able to leave if you weren’t ok with it.”

As soon as those words left your mouth Leah started crying. No one would be able to understand the bond that you guys had and how much you meant to each other. After all you guys were the wonder twins.

After talking for some more minutes the call ended as you had to prepare everything for tomorrow, your first training session with the team.

Before falling asleep you couldn’t help but to think again about those beautiful brown eyes.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“y/n do you have everything?”

“Yep, got everything! We can leave Kei!”

It was the day of your first training session with Barca. You wouldn’t lie if you said that you were nervous.

Lucy and Kei were going to take you to training as you didn’t have a car yet, they had been nothing but wonderful hosts to you. You were glad to have them as friends.

Before the session started Jonatan talked with you about how training worked, which was going to be your schedule and what he had planned for you. He wanted you to keep playing as a defensive midfielder however, he wanted you train once a week with the forwards so the transition to an offensive midfielder was easier for you.  

Mapi made sure to take you under her wing, she knew what it felt like to be the new one. When Mapi moved from Atletico to Barca it was difficult for her so every time there was a new person joining them, she made sure that they felt welcomed.

With you she felt different, she felt as if you guys had been friends in another life.  

While you immediately clicked with her, you felt as if you had known her your whole life.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Exhausted

That was how you felt after your first training session. The session was so much more intense than the ones you did in Arsenal, and you realized why Barcelona was a top team. Their winning mentality, their passion for the game and their hunger for more trophies had you amazed.

You were walking towards the locker room when you heard that someone running towards you. It was Mapi, the only moment that you guys separated was when you went to do some exercises with the other midfielders.

“y/n! How do you feel after your first session?”

“To be honest I feel exhausted, but I enjoyed every single minute.”

“I know what you mean. This team is just different from others. This team is just special.”

Mapi left you so you could take your shower and go to have a well-deserved rest.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You were waiting in your cubicle for Lucy and Keira to be done so you guys could go back to their apartment when you heard that someone was next you.

“y/n, I’m glad to see you again!”

“Thanks Ale! Can I call you that? Sorry if I’m overstepping, I heard Patri call you that and I thought that it was ok?” You stopped your rambling when you heard her laughing. It was the most beautiful noise that you had heard.

“Stop rambling don’t worry y/n, you can call me Ale.”

“Then if I can call you Ale, you can call me y/nn”

“Nah, I think I’ll stick with wonder. After all aren’t you a wonder twin?”

You continued talking with Alexia, there was something about her that had you captivated.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

As soon as that laugh left Alexia’s mouth Mapi’s head turned around and looked at you and at Ale. She hadn’t heard her genuine laugh in months. After Ale tore her ACL Mapi was afraid, she wouldn’t be the same. Alexia had to put a strong facade for the club and for the national team, she smiled and laughed but Mapi knew that those were fake, so Mapi was surprised to see her comfortable with someone that she just had met.

Mapi couldn’t help but to look at you and Alexia with a soft small. Ingrid approached her also smiling and spoke.

“You know elksling, I have the feeling that y/n will fit in perfectly here and her joining us won’t only help us inside the pitch.”

“You’re right mi amor, she is just what the team needed.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #woso community #wonder twins universe #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas imagine

[h0nkch0c0late]

i will literally do anything for jordan li x fem reader

enemies to lovers

Oh my God anon you are setting me up for such a good plot....you have too much faith in me.

Top Five

Jordan Li x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Jordan had always fought about everything. Whether it was because of something you two disagreed on, or a simple topic, but it was always mainly due to your Top Five rankings. While Marie was put in #1, you stayed in place at #3. As they say: the enemy to your enemy is your friend :)

WARNINGS: swearing, slight Gen V spoilers, implications of sex (not specifically written)

You and Jordan had been enemies since you could remember. Both of your parents had been close friends, and thought that their children would be the same.

That had never been the case, though, as you two had been each other's sworn enemies since the day you had met.

Why? Neither of you really had a reason. It had nothing to do with your powers, and most times your arguments had no real...argument. just pointless yelling.

But then, as you grew up, and you both entered Godolkin, it became more than just pointless arguments.

You spent every day trying to prove who the better person was. Which one was liked best, which one performed the best, etc...

It didn't help your case that Jordan was all buddy-buddy with the headmaster, Professor Brink, which let them be in with the popular crowd.

That didn't prevent you from being #3 for the top five, of course, but you were still upset.

---------------------------

Its not like you weren't friends with the "popular" crowd either, being friends with Cate Dunlap and Andre Anderson had its perks.

The only downside was that you were constantly in the same room with Jordan when you all hung out together, and she INSISTED on glaring at you every time.

Your response to it was always sticking your tongue out at them like a child, to which they always rolled their eyes.

To you two, it was like a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you could figure out which was which.

To your friend group's eyes on the other hand, it was a game of "who will kiss who" first. They saw your constant fighting as blatant flirting that neither of you were willing to admit.

So, when Marie Moreau came to the school, and Luke had killed himself along with killing Brink, you two finally had someone to be genuinely enemies with.

After all, the enemy to your enemy is your friend, right?

So, while Jordan was thrown to #5, and Marie moved up to #1, you couldn't stop glaring at Marie every time you walked past her.

-----------------------------------------------

As you walked down the path towards the dorm rooms, you had noticed Jordan standing there, clearly upset.

Ever since their rating had gone down, it was like they were a ghost to the rest of the school. You could relate, however, as being #3 wasn't as nice when the top 2 were being practically worshipped for something they hadn't even done.

So, gathering up your courage, you walked over to him, lips casted into a frown, "you okay?"

Her upset expression turned into one of annoyance (defense mechanism due to the fact her enemy was talking to her), and she groaned, "why do you care?"

You rolled your eyes, expecting nothing less from the supe in front of you, "because ever since Marie got to #1 and you got pushed, you've become a ghost. And you seemed pretty upset so...I don't know."

"You're still #3. You shouldn't be caring about anybody who's below you." They scoffed, their eyes refusing to meet yours.

You sighed, "the enemy to my enemy is my friend, I guess? Look, Jordan," You paused for a moment, "I know we aren't the best of friends, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how close you and Brink were and what happened fucking sucks."

Jordan's eyes moved to look at you, her frown slightly disappearing as she noticed that you actually genuinely cared. "Yeah, I'm fine."

You tilted your head, furrowing your eyebrows as you knew that they were lying, "there's no need to lie to me. We may hate each other but I do know you."

Jordan sighed, "can we not do this here?"

You gave them a look of confusion, "Okay...where do you wanna-"

You were cut off by Jordan taking your hand and dragging you off to their dorm room, and suddenly you found yourself sitting on their bed as they began to pace around. "Of course I'm not okay! Marie took all of the credit for something she didn't even do! She fucking took off! She ran! And it seems like I'm the only one pissed the fuck off about it because come ON! you did more than her! You actually tried to talk to him! You tried to talk him down and yeah it didn't work but you tried! And I fought him! Where the fuck is our credit, huh?!" Jordan ranted, getting angrier by the second.

Your frown deepened as you watched Jordan get heated, "Look, yeah, I'm angry I didn't get any credit, but at the end of the day, the rankings aren't that important to me. And yeah, I'm stuck at #3, but it's been like that for a while. I'm fine with not getting any credit because at the end of the day, it wouldn't have changed anything. You would have been #1, and Andre would have been #2. I care more about the fact that I lost a friend." You explained, standing up and walking over to Jordan, grabbing their hands in your own to stop their pacing.

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes downcast at your interlocked hands, head low to hide the rising blush that began to cover her cheeks.

"But I thought you did care. Yknow, our constant fighting and all?" Jordan questioned.

You chuckled, "Jordan, I constantly fought with you because thats what we do. We're supposed to be enemies, remember? Enemies fight."

Jordan stared at your hands for a bit longer before gathering the courage and looking up, "what if...what if I don't wanna be enemies anymore?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "what do you-"

You were cut off by Jordan planting their lips on your own, and you didn't hesitate to kiss back as your hands let go of their's and cupped their face.

And soon enough, you were back on her bed.

---------------------------------------------------------

It's a little rushed but fuck it we ball 😎

Also, how do we feel about me calling yall gentlebitches bc I find it kinda funny

#x reader #imagine #jordan li x reader #jordan li #gen v fanfiction #gen v #gen v spoilers #enemies to lovers

[verycharismaticdragon]

Okay, I promised a writeup of Luo Binghe voter fraud meme, and as Luo Binghe is currently in the finals of the poll this happened on, I figure now's a good time.

So! It all started when Luo Binghe, our beloved half-demon child, was submitted to @/hybrid-battle tournament - or rather, as it was called at the time, @half-being-battle. He won his first poll easily enough, but round 2 was a close battle where he and his opponent, Shantae from eponymous game, took the lead from one another a few times.

In the last ~12 hours, Binghe was losing slightly after a popular blog rb'd the poll with a call to vote for Shantae. However, SVSSS fandom caught this in time and passed the poll around some more. The poll ended with Luo Binghe winning with 51% of votes - or, as simple calculation will reveal, 14 votes lead.

We breathed out a collective sigh of relief, but too soon - as half a day later, someone sent this ask:

(x)

Initially the pollrunner wasn't intending to do anything about it, but then someone suggested a teamup option, and the poll for the option was made (x). It was rb'd by some SVSSS fans with the general sentiment of 'free our boy he did nothing wrong', but didn't gain real traction until:

@gaywarcriminals reblogged it with a small rant in Binghe's defense

@piosplayhouse rb'd said rant with addition of the image from vol.3 cover, of Shen Qingqiu holding Luo Binghe's hand, edited to look like SQQ is the one saying the text above.

This version of the post was circulated in fandom overnight, leading to 'Luo Binghe moves on alone' option winning by a large margin - and, ofc, to the birth of "Luo Binghe voter fraud" meme.

Though aside from this particular post being funny, there was another factor contributing to the meme catching on: how damn in-character it all was. The following sentiments were all repeated more than once in the post's notes:

Luo Binghe getting accused of crimes he didn't commit? Omg just like in canon!

Shen Yuan would absolutely buy bots to get his most beloved blorbo to win an internet poll.

It's just Luo Binghe's protagonist halo!

All of which made the situation fucking hilarious.

Then, the next day, tumblr user verycharismaticdragon (whoever they might be 😉) made some fanart about it, which possibly aided the spread of the meme too.

Also, SVSSS fandom surprised the mod with our chillness 😅

(x)

Since then, Binghe has been going strong in that poll - and now, he's in the finals! So make sure to vote for him; as we all know now, the real voter fraud is the friends we made along the way. And I do recommend checking Luo Binghe's tag on the poll for some fun propaganda we've been making, including a family tree by Pio and some more art by yours truly <3

But wait! There was also another layer to the voter fraud iceberg. The tl;dr:

At about the same time Luo Binghe vs Shantae ended, Hua Cheng was losing in round 1 of @/the-ghost-bracket, with something like 39% of votes to his name. In a desperate move, I linked his poll under my bingqiu voter fraud art, which gave him a boost to get close to a tie, but didnt flip the poll. The next day, I was explaining the LBH voter fraud meme to my friends, and mentioned Hua Cheng's poll too - which was when inspiration struck me, resulting in...

this post. [ID: art of Xie Lian with a wooden board which reads "Puqi shrine accepting donations in the form of votes for Hua Cheng in the ghost bracket", captioned "please help dianxia, he doesn't have the money for voter fraud"] Which gave the poll enough visibility for Hua Cheng to win with over 62% of votes in the end. (The link in the post is currently changed to round 2 poll, which HC was also initially losing. Srsly besties we gotta follow the tourneys to get our babygirls to win!)

So: LBH voter fraud meme had even helped little bro Huahua out.

And thats about it! Since then, the scum villain fandom has been joking about voter fraud on all of our polls 😂

(Aaaand the last reminder to vote Bingbing in the finals. His opponent has been gaining lately and I think we shouldn't leave it to the protagonist halo this time.)

#if i missed some important Moment lmk #luo binghe #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain's self-saving system

[ktaerssoi]

same team, different goal

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

summary: the three weeks leading up to the draft, or the three times you realize caitlin isnt all that bad.

(2k)

week one

march was coming to an end, and Iowa had made it to the elite eight. tomorrow you would play against LSU, and you were a little nervous. your nerves didn't ease up when you were practicing the night before on an empty court.

it was almost ten, but you hadn't eaten or even thought about anything but the game tomorrow until you heard someone enter the gym, and then you weren't alone.

looking up from the ground, you shot the basketball towards the net, your arm stretching out and your feet coming off of the floor for a moment, but to no avail, it hit the backboard and bounced back to you.

"you should ease up your arm, you're too tense to be playing to your full ability." you turn to see caitlin standing by the court's edge, a calculated look on her face. "clark, I really don't need your help, I just need to practice. you're not exactly helping with that by the way."

she put her hands up in defense, "Actually that was exactly what I was doing. Plus, this isn't your gym, I can come in and practice too if I want." and that's what she did. every time she threw the ball you heard a faint swish and turned to see her lazily going to retrieve the basketball. she's some freak of nature really.

"wanna run some defense real quick?" she throws the ball to you, which you catch with an annoyed look. "sure," the tone of your voice would be enough to turn anyone away normally, but caitlin was one to never quit.

you guys had been trying to block the other on and off for about an hour, caitlin having more success than not. "seriously caitlin, I don't get how you just walk in here and play so easy." you guys were over by the benches, getting some water and checking your phones.

she looks up at you, shrugging. "no I mean seriously, if I told you to stand anywhere on the court you could make it. you practice infinite hours and yet your grades almost never falter." you hadn't really realized that you were going on a rant, but you were nothing but amazed by her talent. well maybe a little jealous too.

"wow l/n, I didn't know you were that big of a fan, do you want me to sign a shirt or something?" you would usually be annoyed by a snarky statement like this, but something about the exhaustion of practicing and the smile on her face made you smile a little too.

-

you woke up the next morning feeling less nervous about the game. practicing with caitlin was helpful, even if you swear for the rest of your life that it wasn't. She had told you about herself, in between breaks you guys would talk about what it was like playing basketball growing up.

she was easy to talk to.

you had been warming up for a little, talking to kate and trying to relax, like caitlin said. by half, both teams were tied at 45, and you were trying not to stress. you knew that you had a good team, and you knew that even if we were to fail it wouldn't be the end of the world.

you had a short water break at half, and caitlin came up to you, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "hey just relax, we got this, just get out of your head." you nodded, looking up and her. kate had given you guys an odd look, along with the rest of the team.

once the third quarter started, you were trying to guard angel resse. she was a difficult player to block, but you had managed to stop a few points and by the end of the third quarter Iowa was up by 11.

you could tell caitlin wasn't happy that we were so close to the end of the game and we barely had a lead. "c, just play like you did last night, don't think just play. you're not the best at thinking anyway." she rolled her eyes at your comment but smiled nonetheless.

"That's not what you said last night," she said as the whistle for the fourth quarter blew. your cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, one that you hoped you could play off as a tough game. you hadn't been put in for the fourth quarter coach opting to put someone else in and give you a break.

"since when have you and caitlin been friends?" you turn to see jada, confusion written on her face. "um, we've always been friends, just, not like good friends." you say, taking a sip of your water. "not "good friends?" you guys fight like there's no tomorrow. something happened and I and kate will find out." you shake your head, a smile on your face as you picture her and kate in old-timey investigater outfits.

"you have fun with that."

the game ends quickly after that, Iowa winning by 7 points. you smiled as you saw the team celebrate on the court, still holding good sportsmanship to LSU (for the most part..), you walked by the other team, high-fiving and telling resse that she's a tough player to block. you guys chat for a little before you say goodbye and walk into the locker room.

"what were you talking to resse about?" you hear caitlin before you see her, but when you do see her she's in the middle of changing out of her jersey into some random shirt. "nothing really, I was just telling her that she played well." you shrugged, walking over to your bag to get changed as well, trying not to stare at anyone.

"yeah, she played well I guess, we still won though." caitlin grabbed her bag in a huff, seeming to be a tad annoyed. "if I didn't know any better I would say you're mad I talked to her," you mumbled, but caitlin still heard.

"I'm not mad I just don't get why you don't treat our team like that, I mean you didn't congratulate any of us and we were the ones who won." caitlin's voice was raised now, you weren't sure where this was coming from but it ticked you off nonetheless.

"fine, you need some praise? good fucking job caitlin, our very own lord and savior." you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag, and walking out to the bus to head back to campus. sitting down in the seat next to kate you were silent, not wanting to talk to anyone.

one thing though was that you most definitely hated caitlin clark.

-

you had gotten to Cleveland earlier that day, you had talked to the UConn team, since you used to play for them it was fun to chat with old teammates and meet the new players. you knew that caitlin and paige were friends, they used to play together and were a great duo. That's why you weren't surprised when she came over and started making her presence known, shutting down the conversation you were having with paige.

"yeah and then she had the audacity-" you were cut off by caitlin, smiling as she walked over and hugged paige. "hey bueckers, you better be ready to lose tomorrow." you glared at her not so subtly, sighing. "clark I was kind of in the middle of talking." she looked down at you, rolling her eyes. "yeah because you always have to talk to the opponents?"

paige had turned away at that point, talking to ice because she knew it was bound to be awkward if she continued standing there. "what is your problem? just because I didn't feed your ego one time im a problem? you need to get a grip." her jaw tightened at your words, you hadn't spoken loud, not wanting to draw too much attention to you guys.

"me? I'm not the one with the issues, you just seem to hate me for no reason at all. seriously, ever since you transferred to Iowa I've been trying to be your friend but you've taken everything I've done as an attack on you. me getting you dinner was not meant to send you into an allergic reaction and get you out of a game!" she hadn't taken into consideration that other people were around and she was talking at a voice level far too loud for the small area you were in.

you had dragged her to a corner, deciding it would be the easiest way to defuse the situation. "okay I'm sorry, you're just good at everything, and it's kind of hard to be friends with someone like that. it makes me feel like I have to prove I'm better which usually doesn't go over well. also, it wasn't even about the allergic reaction I just don't know why you got me dinner. I was fine by myself." caitlin rolls her eyes at your words but nods regardless.

-

you guys had won the game against UConn the next day, and you and caitlin finally working well together and not arguing throughout the game. there was a sort of understanding between the two of you guys now.

week two

you guys had ulitamtily lost the game against NC state, it was close and you guys had played hard. caitlin was anything but happy by the end of it, and not even kate or gabbie could fix it.

"clark, like you said, its not the end of the world. there will always be another game." you had said it to not only help her, but yourself. you weren't exactly pleased with the outcome of the game, none of team had been.

for caitlin it was different, she was going to the draft next week and losimg her lat college game wasn't something she could live with. but she would have to.

even though you hadn't really meant to, you had cheered caitlin up. even if it was only a little bit, her mood had improved and she was able to talk to the team with out an undertone of anger. the ride home wasn't the best trip of your life but you guys had managed to make the best of it for everyone sake.

seeing caitlin sit quietly on the bus made you start thinking about what it wold be like on the team with out her next year. with out her it would be so different, not to mention you were losing a bunch of other great players. but with out caitlin who would you compete with? she wasn't just a teammate, she was a friend, whether you guys were fighting or not you would miss her. plus she was nice to look at.

half way through the trip back to campus you guys had stopped to stretch your legs. when you got back on, you sat next to caitlin before she could put her feet up and block the seat.

"hey c," you smiled at her, and though she didn't show it you could tell that she was okay with you being there. you had looked over at what she was doing on her phone and you saw she was looking at her possible outfits for the draft.

"i like that one." you had pointed to your favorite of the options, a sparkly cropped top with a white button down and a skirt. it would look good on her.

she nodded, and quickly sent a text to her stylist that that was the one she wanted to wear. you had just picked out caitlin clarks wnba draft night outfit.

"i don't know what im going to do next year. i mean, the wnba is going to be great but seriously this team is to good to not miss." caitlin was picking at her fingernails, a bad habit of hers. "even though im on it?" you laughed a little, you knew she hadn't always liked you.

"no i think especially because you're on it. you've really been my number one compeition and with you gone i don't know who's going to keep my ego in check." she smiles at you, and you shake your head. "trust me clark, someone is going to get fed up and humble you."

something about the way she smiled the rest of the way home made you feel good. you really were going to miss her.

week three

it was draft night, and you had been invited along with some other team members to attend for caitlin. she and everyone looked so good, and the outfit you had chosen definitely distracted some people. (you included)

the draft was about to start and caitlin had been standing with you, kate, gabbie, and jada for a while before she finally had to leave. your leg was bouncing with anticipation when the commissioner came on stage with the first pick, but instantly cheers erupted from your group and many others in the room.

you were surprised when caitlin didn't instantly get up and head to the commissioner, instead, she hugged her family, stepped down off the stage to hug you first, and then, kate, jada, and gabbie, and then finally went to the commissioner. that's going to be in an edit.

the night went smoothly after that, you were getting texts from her often, and one of the commentators had pointed out that you both both on your phones. when the cameras panned over to her and you, the crowd cheered and you both waved. you felt your phone buzz a few seconds later with a text from caitlin, "they're watching us 😉" the cameras were still on you, so you flipped your phone showing the camera her message.

-

later that night, at the after party you were talking with Nika when caitlin had excused you both and you walked over to some corner. "hey, you know I was tal-" you were cut off by caitlin's lips on yours. it took you a moment but you kissed back.

what the fuck was happening. 

she pulled away after a second and you looked at her stunned, confusion evident on your face. "um, so like why did you do that?"

her face guys pink, and she looks confused as well. "I, um, i don't know why i did that. i just really wanted to kiss you." you nodded at her admittion, yet still confused.

"i think i've liked you since you transferred. i mean, i just like, i think that's why I've always competed with you, i just wanted to show off. It's why i got mad the other day, sorry about that by the way-" she was the one to get cut off this time as you kissed her again.

pulling away after a few seconds you smiled up at her, taking in your high difference for what seemed like the first time. "you're not all too bad either clark." you gave her one more peck and your smile widened even more if possible. "congrats on getting drafted by the way. I'll have to get you to sign a jersey for me."

CHAT I HATE THIS SO MUCH SOME ONE END ME. no like all jokes aside this is actual dookie. but i finally finished this little side blurb thing so yay!! making brownies rn i will update you on them! thats all chat, once again sos. - kate

#wcbb #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #paige #kate martin #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #i love her sm

[subskz]

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 03

note: this is part 3 of a series (part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, slight jealousy, brief mentions of alcohol, sickness, academic stress, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, chan has a bit of a breakdown, bathing scene, nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, praise, possessiveness, biting/marking, the slightest hint of exhibitionism, chan is very needy, stopping in the middle of a scene, oral (reader receiving), lots of begging, crying during and after sex, nursing, handjob, aftercare

word count: 22.6k

There were parts of Chan in everything you did now.

It took a while, but eventually, it dawned on you with a strange sort of delight that you’d subconsciously taken on his habit of pressing his lips together into a thin line—when giving a quick smile, when lost in thought, and, most importantly, when silently dissatisfied. For such a subtle movement, you found that, at times, it expressed your frustration better than voicing it ever could. A Chan-like quality, through and through.

Likewise, he’d adopted your habit of reaching up to brush the tip of your nose whenever you felt self-conscious. Of all the quirks he could’ve picked up on, naturally, it had to be one he could make ample use of. Now, any time your gaze lingered on him for a bit longer than necessary (which admittedly, was often) his thumb would swipe over the adorable apex of his nose, a shy half-smile following the action like clockwork. It took some audacity, really, for him to steal a mannerism of yours and make it infinitely more endearing.

Even less obvious details were fair game for the two of you to snatch up, from mirroring each other’s walks, to parroting certain words and phrases. You’d melded into one another, so much that, in some cases, you weren’t quite sure which traits he’d gotten from you, and which traits you’d gotten from him.

You wondered if the marks you’d left on each other were what had landed you in the situation you found yourself in now.

“Betrayal! That’s what this is! A Sanrio pencil stabbed straight through my giant, loving heart!”

It had been a good five minutes of this. Changbin was back from summer break—skin tanned, hair fluffy, muscles somehow more defined than ever—and with the way his voice echoed shamelessly throughout the cafe, he was making sure everyone knew it. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to greet him properly before the one-man show (which you’d prepared for, but clearly not enough) began; starring none other than Seo Changbin himself, of course.

“Please calm down before you get us kicked out.”

“Calm down, she says!” he cried. “You’re a real scary person, y’know that? Hiding this from me, your good friend, Changbin—your best friend, Changbin—all this time!”

You felt a tinge of guilt for what wasn’t the first time. Despite the melodrama of it all, you knew that he had a point. There was no reason for you to have kept something like this from him for so long, especially when it involved not only one, but two of his closest friends.

“I’m sorry, Bin,” you sighed. “I really did wanna tell you. I was just worried it’d make everything so awkward.”

“Well, of course it’s awkward,” he agreed. “But I still want to know! At least that way, we can feel awkward together!”

Something about his reasoning made you soften. It was just like him, to be more concerned that he’d missed out on the chance of being a supportive friend rather than the potential mess that could stem from your involvement with Chan. You would probably do well to have a little more faith in people—a message the universe seemed to have been hammering into your brain a great deal lately.

“Maybe I would’ve told you if you’d talked to me more than once over your entire vacation,” you teased.

Changbin’s mouth fell open in protest, suddenly finding himself playing defense. “Twice!” he corrected indignantly. “And don't try to spin this on me! What about when you called me, huh? That was the perfect opportunity!”

“The perfect opportunity?” you echoed in disbelief. “In that case, I’ll be sure to follow up your birthday wishes next year with news that I’m dating your best friend.”

“Scary, scary person,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask for a hug—you’re not gonna put a knife in my back are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s in the air back home that makes you act like this?”

Still, you felt nothing but fondness as you leaned fully into him, letting it sink in for the first time just how happy you were to see him again. With the way his big arms squeezed around you, you knew he wasn’t truly upset either—even if, quite frankly, he had a right to be.

“I missed you, though,” you patted his back. “You and all your drama.”

“Well, I missed you too,” he huffed. Just when you thought he might be ready to drop the theatrics and move on, he pulled away from the hug, a horrified look forming on his face.

“Oh my God…have I been third wheeling this entire time?”

“Get in line, Seo Changbin.”

His nagging and whining eventually died down, morphing into more playful jabs as the two of you ordered your drinks and found a table to sit at. Exactly as you’d predicted, once he’d recovered from the initial shock, he was all proud grins and smug righteousness, preaching on and on about how he’d told you so from day one and how you should never doubt him or his genius intuition ever again.

“I was mostly joking when I said all that stuff about you falling in love with him, y’know,” he clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think you’d actually go and do it.”

“I’m not in love with him,” you tried to retort, but much to your dismay, your voice cracked right as you uttered the dreaded word.

“No way,” Changbin broke out into cackles of pure glee. “Don’t tell me you went and had a secret wedding without me, too?”

You shoved your straw into your iced coffee with a bit too much force, face heating up. “The more you laugh, the more you sound like someone who isn’t getting his belated birthday present.”

At that, he clamped his jaws shut, giggles halting with a speed that was almost impressive. “Sorry, sorry,” he gave you a sheepish grin. “Behaving, now.”

“How’d you find out, anyway? Did Chan tell you?”

“Nah. Though, I should’ve guessed just from the way he gets whenever you’re brought up. All shy and smiley, it’s honestly kinda nauseating.”

He scrunched his nose up in distaste, but the words had no real edge to them. In fact, there was nothing but affection there. It made your heart skip a beat, embarrassingly enough, to know that just the mention of you was all it took to have that kind of effect on Chan. Every time you thought you couldn’t possibly be more taken by him, he proved you wrong.

“If not Chan, then who?” you hesitated before asking. “Minho?”

“Hey,” the whine was back in his voice. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe I figured it out myself?”

You said nothing, smiling around your straw and sipping contently away at your coffee.

“Yes, it was Minho,” he grumbled.

Though you’d been expecting it, the confirmation still made your skin crawl, overtaking Chan’s warmth with a cold discomfort. You hadn’t seen or heard from Minho since your encounter in the convenience store a few weeks ago, and each time you thought back to him, the pit of unease in your stomach grew stronger. You wondered just how much he’d told Changbin. Judging by his behavior that day, he seemed to be aware of everything—whether he was the type to mince his words, or to expose it all without a care in the world, you weren’t quite sure. Even if you’d spent more time around the guy before he’d decided to switch up on you, you got the feeling that you still wouldn’t have any clearer insight into how his mind worked.

“Speaking of Minho,” you began slowly. “Has he…said anything lately?”

Changbin snorted. “He’s said a lot of things.”

“Sorry. I mean, like, about me.”

“I don’t think so,” he squinted, eyeing you up and down. “Why? Are you planning on picking off my friends one by one?”

It was lighthearted, just a joke, but it nearly made you grimace. You’d be glad to never even cross paths with Minho again if it meant avoiding that harsh, accusatory glare that had yet to fade from your mind. Experiencing it once was more than enough.

“C’mon, Bin. It’s nothing like that.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what you said last time.”

You gave a half-hearted chuckle in response, only noticing a moment too late how unconvincing it’d come out. It caught his attention, and he glanced up from his drink to give you a curious look.

“Everything alright?”

You were reluctant to confide in Changbin about the matter, both to avoid burdening him with something so silly, and because of the very unavoidable fact that Minho was just as dear a friend to him as Chan. He’d only just found out about your relationship; immediately piling its potential problems on him was the last thing you wanted to do. At the same time, however, you figured it was better to ask someone who knew Minho well before you jumped to conclusions. Not to mention, Changbin might genuinely believe you were interested in rounding up all his friends if you didn’t clarify why you’d brought up the subject of Minho in the first place.

“I saw him a few weeks ago, and he was being kinda weird.”

“No issues there.”

“Not in his usual way, though—at least, I don’t think so?” you tried to be careful with your words, acutely aware of how sensitive you may come off if you chose the wrong ones. “I just got the feeling that he doesn’t really like me all that much. So, I was wondering if he’s brought it up with you.”

Changbin frowned, taking a moment to mull over what you’d said.

“You think Minho doesn’t like you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “What’d he say to you?”

“Just some weird things about me and Chan,” you shrugged. “It almost felt like he was trying to intimidate me, or something. Like, he thinks I have bad intentions.”

A troubled look crossed his face—brief, but just long enough to foster your unease. He went quiet for a few moments, nibbling thoughtfully on his bottom lip, then, at last, gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Minho knows you’re not like that,” he said simply. “And he wouldn’t just hate you for no reason, either. Definitely not it.”

You made a small noise of acknowledgement, pretending to understand what he meant, but Changbin still seemed to sense that he hadn’t gotten through to you.

“You’ve seen the way he acts around us, right? He’s probably just messing with you now that he feels more comfortable,” his voice mellowed. “He might seem difficult, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s a pretty great guy, actually. Soft at heart.”

“I believe you,” you murmured. You didn’t doubt for a second that he was a good friend to Changbin and Chan; you’d witnessed it firsthand in the time you’d spent around them. The problem was, you seemed to have done something to land yourself as the target of his inexplicable wrath, and you weren’t sure how to get yourself out of the line of aim before his eyes pierced an arrow straight through you.

“Maybe you’re right. I must’ve just misunderstood him.”

“He’s easy to misunderstand,” Changbin reassured you. An unpleasant thought appeared to cross his mind, twisting the small smile tugging at his lips right back into a frown. “Just…don’t tell him I said any of that. He didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“Of course not,” you grinned. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Though you weren’t entirely sold on Changbin’s reasoning, it was at least worth a shot to reconcile with Minho before completely giving up on a positive relationship with him. It wasn’t even so much that you were hurt by his unexpected hostility, you just wanted to know what had caused it. You wanted to fix it.

In fact, you were determined to fix it. For both your sakes, and—most importantly—for Chan’s, you were going to make it right.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

College parties, as it turned out, were still very plainly, very aggressively, not your scene. Even with Chan and Changbin there, even with some of the most talented students on campus putting on performances that were, unsurprisingly, really, really good, even with the three-month long promise of getting to see 3RACHA live finally coming to fruition, you were having a hard time enjoying yourself.

You didn’t think it was possible to be experiencing this many different emotions at once. Every one of your senses was suffocated with something. The stinging smell of alcohol, the uncomfortable sheen of sweat on your skin, the perpetual ringing in your ears, the swarming mass of people, and the residual taste of artificial strawberry—the only refreshment you’d managed to take a few sips of before being swept away into the crowd over an hour ago. You were overwhelmed, you were exhilarated, you were anxious, you were impatient. You appeared completely calm amidst the chaos ensuing all around you, yet somehow, were more of a mess internally than even the most intoxicated of attendees.

You’d spent a majority of your time scattered, tossed amongst your friends at random intervals throughout the night. Fifteen minutes with Changbin before he and Jisung had retreated to the bathroom to practice their lyrics, twenty minutes with Iseul before she and her boyfriend had gotten into a heated argument about him not matching the energy of her dancing (something you were sure to get earful of later), thirty minutes with various friends from class before realizing in dismay that they consisted almost exclusively of touchy and crybaby drunks, and a mere five minutes with Chan.

Shortly after the party had begun, you’d arrived to find him already looking cheerfully exhausted. He’d been there for hours already, having offered to help the committee with all the setup and decorations for the event. Even once the festivities were in full swing, he was still dashing around the venue left and right, assisting with soundchecks and the transfer of equipment with hardly any time to prepare for his own performance, let alone to socialize. It warmed your heart as much as it tugged at it. Even on a night where he should be his own top priority, he was still bending over backwards to help everyone else but himself.  

It lasted until he was all but forced to stop, dragged away by Changbin and Jisung to set up for 3RACHA’s showcase. The moment you’d been anticipating all night—all summer, really—the sole reason you were even putting up with an environment so out of your wheelhouse to begin with, came at last. The three men shuffled on to the makeshift stage with an awkward sort of swagger that you only ever saw in them when they were together. It was like each one of them needed the other two with him to lock properly into place, to align their energies and bring out the best in each other like a finely-tuned machine. In a way, that in itself was a testament to the song they’d be performing.

The familiar sirens you’d heard countless times before, pumping through your phone speakers in a personal concert, now blared through the hall for everyone to hear. Chan’s eyes fell from the screen of his laptop where he’d been getting things situated, landing directly on you without even having to search the crowd. He gave you a grin, dimples flashing, and that was the last you saw of it for the next three minutes and thirty seconds.

You’d already had an idea of what Jisung was capable of based on the handful of 3RACHA songs you’d heard, but to see it unfold in person was something entirely different. The goofy, scatterbrained junior that always looked a bit on-edge every time you spotted him, now rapping at the speed of light with each word flowing like torrents in a stream. Something about the way he read the lyrics directly off his phone, even for a performance like this, made it all the more mesmerizing to watch. He was the kind of person you could tell was a hidden genius.

Changbin became every bit as fierce and intimidating as you’d initially believed him to be the first day you’d met. Voice raspy and eyes dark, looking straight into the crowd almost like he was challenging them with each effortless line he spit out. It served as a reminder that all his drama and flair wasn't just something you could tease him for; it was something he could own the stage with, as well. His pride radiated off of him in waves; not only in himself, but in them as a unit, and every ounce of it was justified in your eyes.

Undoubtedly the most drastic transformation, however, was Chan. From the moment Zone began, the boy you’d come to know seemed to go dormant for a while, replaced with something you’d never quite seen in him before—something approaching confidence. You thought back to that day in the library, where you’d tried to imagine in amusement how someone like him, who could hardly look you in the eye while playing snippets of his Placebo instrumental, could be the one behind such powerful lines. You didn’t have to imagine it now. He had the least parts out of the trio—you were certain he’d chosen Zone as a way to give Jisung and Changbin more time to shine—but he made just as great of an impact. You could feel the effects of it, on you and everyone else around you. There was no question about it; he belonged there.

By the time the performance was over, you could add a few new emotions to the ones swirling inside you: happiness, pride, and something else you couldn’t quite place. You found Changbin amidst the sea of people first, weaving and dodging through the crowd until you reached him, or, rather, crashed directly into him. His face broke out into a wide smile as soon as he realized it was you, barely getting the chance to say anything before you pulled him into a hug.

“So?” you could hear the giddiness in his voice as he gave you a tight squeeze.

“You killed it, Bin! That’s gotta be the best you've ever sounded,” you hoped he could hear your praises over the pandemonium. “You gonna remember me when you’re famous?”

He pulled away with a laugh, lifting his chin in—mostly—feigned bravado. “I’ll consider it,” his eyes sparkled. “Did you notice the new move I did?”

“Obviously,” you imitated his stylish salute with two fingers, and his smile grew even wider. “And what’s with that sound you made at the start of your verse?”

“It’s my new signature!” he declared.

“So cool! You’re so cool, Seo Changbin!” You threw a hand over your heart with a giggle, and he bumped his shoulder against yours, suddenly embarrassed.

If he said something in response, you didn’t quite catch it, effectively losing all focus the instant your eyes caught sight of a group of people gathered nearby. Chan was at its center, grinning from ear to ear as he tried to keep up with everyone’s chattering all at once. A visual of him you’d pictured so many times before, now right before your eyes—a charming, social butterfly who made befriending others look as simple as breathing. It truly sank in at that moment, that the boy who’d come to mean so much to you in so little time, had a whole other side to his world that you didn’t even know of. The view of his thousand-watt smile wasn’t for your eyes alone, the pieces of himself that he put into his music weren’t solely for your ears.

It made your heart sing; he should be adored. But at the same time, that sensation from earlier made its presence known once again. The girl next to him, the head organizer for the event, if you remembered correctly, reached out to touch his arm as she laughed. Her hand lingered for a moment too long, a look you knew all too well swimming in her eyes.

Oh. Suddenly, the mystery feeling wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.

Something ignited deep within you, completely different from the familiar heat Chan set off in your skin. It was immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. You weren’t the type to bristle over something so small—at least, you’d never thought you were. You wanted to blame it on something; the fact that you hadn’t seen Chan for most of the night, the fact that it felt a bit too reminiscent of what he used to do whenever you’d dared to take your attention off of him for even a moment. But Chan would never even think to pull anything like that, it went against his nature. His nature just so happened to entail being adored wherever he went.

You knew it was nothing more than that same selfishness that had reared its head the night you’d first slept together. Not quite insecurity, and not quite jealousy. It was rooted in something much simpler: a matter of what felt right, and what didn’t. You’d wanted to be done with the troublesome feeling from the moment you’d first encountered it—to nip it in the bud before it sprouted into something uglier—but just like everything about your relationship with Chan, it was out of your hands. It was inevitable. With the wholeness that came with his presence, an emptiness was left in his absence.

“Oh my God,” Changbin’s exasperated voice cut through the music, and, in turn, the thoughts swarming your head. “Stare any harder and he might just burst into flames.”

You blinked, embarrassment increasing tenfold. “Sorry, Binnie,” you muttered. “What were you saying?”

He gave you a knowing nudge. “Just go talk to him so I don’t have to look at your lovesick face anymore.”

“Not lovesick,” you protested, but the way your eyes darted right back to Chan did nothing to help your case. You found him staring at you this time, his overwhelmed beam shifting into something softer, sweeter—a look of relief. He dismissed himself from the group just as your feet were preparing, almost reflexively, to pull you in his direction. You turned to give Changbin another apologetic glance, only for him to roll his eyes and gesture for you to leave.

“I need to find Jisung, anyway,” he told you. “Talking to more than one stranger at a time probably has him looking for an escape route.”

Promising to meet up with him again later, you parted ways, a strange sense of calm washing over you as you came face to face with Chan at last. The pungent smell in the air was replaced with his fresh citrus, the clamoring sounds around you suddenly much quieter in your ears, as if waiting with bated breath to hear what he had to say.

“Hey, you,” he grinned.

“Hi, Channie,” you held out your hands, skin tingling when he rested his palms against yours. Slightly clammy from the adrenaline rush of the performance, but soft to the touch. Warm as ever.

“So, were you ever planning on telling me that you’re a shapeshifter?”

“A shapeshifter?” he giggled, more melodic than any of the music you’d heard that night.

“Those moves? The growling?” you marveled. “Even the way you carried yourself; you really know how to put on a show.”

Chan’s fingers—topped off with black nail polish, you noticed for the first time—twitched in your hands, resisting the urge to reach up and adjust his cap, tug at his ear, swipe over his nose, do something to try and alleviate his embarrassment.

“Did you like it? Or was it too much? I know this one’s your favorite, so…”

…I hope I didn’t mess it up. You could hear the words on the tip of his tongue without him even finishing. They were clear in every nervous flicker in his expression, every awkward shift in his feet.

“Are you kidding?” you rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand. “You were made for this.”

The flashing lights around you illuminated his face just in time for you to see his eyes widen. It almost made you sad—the genuine shock etched into his features.

“Ah…” he ducked his head, speechless. Suddenly, you completely understood why he’d been reluctant to ask you to attend the showcase. You should’ve known by now; Chan didn’t have to play coy to endear you, he accomplished that just fine by simply being himself.

“You really think so?” He kept his stare glued to the floor.

“Of course. Everyone else can see it, too,” you added. “I’m really proud of you, Channie.”

His cap hid his expression from your view, but you were certain that his brilliant smile was there—the one you loved so much, the one so wide that it couldn’t be contained, swelling his cheeks and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Thank you,” it was meek, barely audible above the roar of the crowd. “That means a lot.”

You wanted to dip your head under the brim of his hat and meet his gaze, to let him know just how much you meant it. You wanted to kiss him, unconcerned with the people around you who might see—in fact, it only strengthened the desire, the chance to witness his cute, flustered reaction to a public display like that.

Your hesitation lasted a split second too long, however, as you spotted a fresh group of people approaching the two of you; some faces recognizable, some entirely new. You kept your smile as they made their way over with shouts and cheers, but your hand gripped Chan’s just a bit tighter.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Tonight was full of firsts for you, it seemed.

Attending a university party without leaving within the first hour, mingling with more people than you’d ever thought existed on campus, and now, as you currently were, lacking so much in self-control that you were pressed up against Chan in the venue bathroom.

You weren’t quite sure how you’d ended up there, the only thing you were sure of was the slew of emotions leading into it. Chan could tell that you were antsy, and, maybe, he was feeling antsy too. The number of times you’d been separated throughout the night only to drift right back to each other was too many to count. It got to the point where the final time it happened, you’d opted for linking arms to avoid getting lost again.

You wanted to go home—you’d been more than ready to from the moment 3RACHA had finished performing—and you would’ve gladly left Chan to enjoy the rest of the event with his endless rotation of friends if it weren’t for the fact that every time you were apart for too long, he’d go looking for you. At first, you’d tried to tell him not to worry himself over whether or not you were having fun, but eventually, you realized with a flutter in your chest that it wasn’t just his usual attentiveness at play; he wanted you next to him.

When he’d asked if you wanted to retreat somewhere quieter for a bit, it had been innocent enough. You didn’t think he’d expected things to head in this direction—you certainly hadn’t. With your vigilance and his shyness, neither of you were exactly the type.

“This okay?”

“Mhm,” he breathed against your lips. The faint pounding of the bass outside could still be heard through the bathroom door, but you were much more fixated on Chan’s racing heartbeat.

“You look—mmph—so pretty tonight,” he slurred. “Been wanting to kiss you.”

His voice still had the faintest rasp to it after the strain of performing, exciting you more than it probably should’ve. “You’re so sweet,” you cooed, pressing a peck to the corner of his mouth. “How do you think I felt seeing you up on that stage?”

He made a soft noise, unable to protest when you took his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking delicately and making him melt into you. His mouth fell open for you to devour freely. His hands, which had been hovering uncertainly over your hips, rested on them at last. From the way his fingers constricted around your clothes, you knew he was itching to bring you closer; he always was. 

“You don’t believe me?” You pulled back just slightly, tugging at his plush skin between your teeth as you did.  He tasted sweet, even sweeter than usual. The same artificial strawberry you’d tried earlier in the night. Gently, you used your hold on his cheeks to turn his head in the direction of the mirror.

Chan’s eyes fell instantly, avoiding his reflection like second nature.

“Look at yourself, Channie,” you encouraged. “I want you to see what I see.”

A quiet whine built in his throat, but he complied nonetheless, meeting his own, timid gaze in the mirror. You let your hands slip from his cheeks to give him a clear view of his face, shifting your position so that you stood behind him, admiring the view together.

“Pretty boy,” you drawled, running your hands along his shoulders. “For someone who’s so good at reading people, you’re clueless about how bad they really want you.”

He tensed up, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “What?”

“You didn’t notice?” You tilted your head. “That's okay. It’s cute, actually.”

Your lips found his neck, breath fanning over his warm skin in a way that made goosebumps rise to the surface. Keeping your eyes locked on his reflection, you pressed a trail of kisses down his throat, doing little to hide how high your emotions were running.

“D-did something bother you?” he stuttered out, and if you hadn’t known him any better, you might’ve thought he was trying to tease you. Hearing him say it out loud nearly made you cringe at yourself. It was so trivial, so ridiculous. You didn’t want him to see that side of you—a side you’d hardly even known you had before tonight. Still, the burning sensation had grown too strong for you to ignore anymore, with each suggestive touch or longing glance thrown Chan's way serving as fuel to the fire.

“Why would I be bothered?” you said at last. “They don’t get to see you like this.” His breath hitched as you grazed your teeth along his skin. “Or hear you like this. Do they?”

“N-no,” he agreed. “Just you.”

Just you. You wondered if he’d said it knowing full well the kind of effect it would have on you.

“Do you like all the attention?”

He pressed his lips together, averting his eyes from the mirror again. It was subtle, but you could’ve sworn his hips jutted forward just a bit.

“I like your attention,” he said softly.

Another perfect answer from a perfect boy. Your hands fell from his shoulders, sliding down his body to give his waist a squeeze through the thin material of his shirt. “You deserve it,” you licked a stripe up his neck. “All of it. Who wouldn’t go crazy over you when you look like this?”

“I…” He bit his lip, no doubt to hold back what he really wanted to say. “Please, ‘m getting shy.”

You were almost tempted to grab hold of his chin and tilt his head up, giving him no choice other than to take in the breathtaking sight of himself. But judging by his bright red ears and restless squirming under your palms, he was flustered enough already—so much that you worried it may actually mortify him to face his appearance on top of your praises reverberating in his mind. Instead, you pressed more wet kisses to his neck, hands roaming further down his body and feeling up the expanse of his stomach, right above the waistband of his pants. He whimpered, pushing his hips forward much more noticeably this time.

“It’ll be bad if we get caught,” you hummed. “Keep quiet, Channie.”

Chan sucked in a sharp breath as you ran your tongue along his ear. You took his hoop piercing between your teeth, tugging at it in a gentle, but deliberate taunt.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “You know I can't.”

You smiled deviously around the silver. “I know.”

The sound of your voice was nothing short of intoxicating, smooth and sultry and pooling heat in his abdomen at an alarmingly quick rate. Your fingers traced over the buttons of his jeans, playing with them in a tortuous dance, but not quite popping them open. The material was already starting to feel tight around him, and when you fully cupped the area without warning, his mouth fell open to spill out a shaky moan.

Your heart jumped; he was so sensitive, reduced to the flushed, noisy mess you saw before you with just a few touches and kisses. You thought back to what he’d said that night—about how it’d been a while—a small part of you wondering if that was the real reason, or if he was just always this reactive. It thrilled you like nothing else, the prospect of him being so vocal, so vulnerable to every bit of stimulation no matter how many times he’d felt it before.

“Maybe that’s what you want? For everyone to hear all these pretty sounds you make for me.”

You dragged your tongue up from his lobe, swirling it around the shell of his ear and practically tasting the heat radiating off the reddened skin. Frantically, Chan tried to mask another moan, hands gripping the sink for support.

“No—ah—just you. Only for you.”

“Only me?” You gave him a squeeze, curling your fingers around his growing bulge and making him shudder against you. “Should I make sure they know that?”

He peeked up at last from under the brim of his cap, eyes already so foggy, lips already puffed. Your mouth traveled down from his ear, pressing a kiss right to the junction of his shoulder and neck. A light hiccup escaped him when your front teeth tickled the flesh, threatening to bite down in full.

“Can I?” you checked.

Chan leaned in further so that nearly all his weight was resting against the sink, knees weakening at the mere thought of what you were going to do. “Yeah,” he gasped. “Please.”

“It’ll show,” you warned, basking in the feel of his pulse beneath your lips.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want it to.”

Any composure you had left was no match for the desperation in his voice. He always knew exactly what to say—or, rather, anything he said was exactly what you wanted to hear, solely because it came from him. Without wasting another moment, you sank your teeth into his neck, wrapping your lips around the patch of skin to create a hot, delicious suction that nearly made Chan fold in half.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a sharp cry escaping him despite his best efforts. You tightened your grasp on him in an attempt to keep him steady, but the added pressure to his length only seemed to make things worse. He whimpered something incoherent, hips rolling forward to grind into your palm—uncharacteristically shameless of him.

You sucked to your heart’s content, nibbling and running your tongue along the sensitive area until you were certain a mark would be left behind for days to come. When you finally released his flesh from between your teeth, Chan was all but panting, face scrunched up with pleasure and bulge twitching in your hand. You gave the mark a delicate lick, soothing the flared skin while he caught his breath.

“Mine.”

It sent a shiver down his spine. Just as you were preparing to sully a new spot on his neck, a sudden knock on the bathroom door made you both freeze in place. His body stiffened against yours, head shooting up in a panic.

“Is anyone in here?” a girl’s voice came muffled through the distant rumble of the music.

The doorknob wobbled, and you steeled yourself to respond, knowing that Chan was in absolutely no state to.

“Yeah, just a minute!” you called, throwing out the first excuse you could conjure. “My friend’s feeling a bit sick.”

Carefully, to avoid drawing out any more questionable noises from the boy, you pulled your hand away from his crotch and peeled yourself off of him. He straightened up as best he could, blinking rapidly to clear the haze from his eyes. Guilt pricked at you, among other things, for allowing the situation to get to this point, but even as Chan urgently tried to adjust himself so the hardness in his pants would be less obvious, he didn’t look upset—not in the slightest. He gave you a sheepish half-smile when he met your gaze, eyes gleaming with pure, unfettered adoration.

You smoothed out your clothes, trying to ignore the very prominent ache between your legs.

“Sorry, Channie,” you murmured. “I guess I got carried away.”

His fingers brushed tentatively over the mark you’d left, cheeks matching the shade of his ears. “S’alright,” he licked his lips. “I like it.”

He had to stop saying that—for the sake of your sanity, if nothing else. You cleared your throat, reminding yourself that there was, in fact, some poor soul out there waiting impatiently for the restroom.

“And all the…possessive stuff I—” you paused. “I hope it wasn’t too much.”

“Too much?” he cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t notice?”

A repeat of your question from earlier. You went quiet for a moment, trying to decode the meaning behind it. Everything that had transpired throughout the course of the evening flooded your thoughts at once: the fixed stares from across the room, the hand-holding, the arm-linking, the search for you every time you strayed too far. Butterflies fluttered to life your stomach the instant you wrapped your head around it.

“Oh.”

His giggles mixed with yours, light and timid. How very like him, to admit so openly to the exact feeling you’d been hoping to hide. Hiding with him was a fruitless endeavor, anyway.  

You rested your hand on his lower back, reaching for the handle with your other. “Look sick,” you whispered.

Chan leaned over slightly, masking both the lingering flush on his cheeks and the blossoming lovebite on his neck. On the opposite side of the door, you found none other than the event organizer standing there, watching the two of you inquisitively as you shuffled out of the bathroom. You gave her a polite dip of your head, and Chan offered a quick greeting as you ushered him along. You weren’t proud of it, but any self-consciousness you’d felt before was instantly overtaken by that selfish satisfaction.

As the two of you re-entered the fray, your hand slid down from Chan’s back, allowing him to walk normally again—or, as normally as he could when he was still very much trying to ebb the arousal you’d set off in him. He flexed his fingers as they brushed against yours, lacing them together before you could even think to pull away.

By some miracle, you managed to locate the other two thirds of 3RACHA with just a bit of sifting through the crowd. The relief was short-lived, however, alarm gripping you in its place when you noticed who was standing with them. Lee Minho.

It was no surprise that he was there, but you’d somehow managed to go the entire night without catching so much as a single glimpse of him. A part of you had been grateful for it, but the other part was also itching to see him. Ever since your conversation with Changbin, you’d become more and more ashamed about the way you’d acted with Minho in the convenience store. He’d rubbed you the wrong way, sure, but you were certain that your reaction had only made the situation worse. This was your chance to fix it, to dodge the arrow before he could finish drawing back his string.

“It’s completely different,” you heard him insist as you and Chan approached the group. He was engaged in what appeared to be a very serious debate with a very confused Jisung. “It’s like iced coffee versus hot coffee that’s been out for too long; they’re both cold, but one’s supposed to be, the other isn’t.”

Jisung blinked, lips parting and closing several times over the next few seconds. You’d never quite witnessed someone’s thought process unfolding in real time like that before. Even if you’d caught the full discussion between the two, the look on his face told you that you still wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going on.

“I’ll be honest, man, you lost me three analogies ago.”

Minho clicked his tongue, looking ready to drop another equally convoluted explanation. Instead, he fell silent when he spotted you, the delighted smirk of someone who knew he was being difficult transforming into something much harsher, much less natural. It nearly made you wince. You’d never been particularly close with the guy, but you’d thought you were at least reaching a point where he’d grown comfortable enough to approach you with the same casualness he did with the rest of his friends. It bothered you more than you wanted to admit, that the first sign of friendship sprouting between you had been trampled on for reasons that you didn’t even know, nor comprehend.

His stare flickered between you and Chan, and you prayed desperately that the dim lighting of the hall would be enough for the fresh mark you’d left on Chan’s neck to escape Minho’s scrutiny. He narrowed his eyes, and your heartbeat picked up. So far, not off to a great start.

Still, you swallowed—your misgivings, and your pride—and flashed him a quick smile.

“Hi, Minho.”

No response, just a nod. Something told you that you were lucky to get even that out of him. He turned his head, planning to continue his debate with Jisung without addressing you any further, but the other boy had already been sucked into a high-energy conversation with Chan and Changbin about ways they could improve future performances.

“Can we talk?” you tried to keep your volume low, just enough for him to hear without catching the attention of the others.

He studied you with an impressive lack of interest, and for a moment, you thought he might really go the rest of the night without uttering a word around you.

“Why?”

“I just want to clear the air. I feel like we kinda had a misunderstanding the other day.”

“Maybe on your end,” he said curtly. “I understand what’s going on just fine.”

You took a breath, forcing yourself to remain open-minded. “Maybe,” you agreed. “So, could you tell me what I’m missing about all this?”

Wordlessly, he brought his cup to his lips, fixing you with unblinking eyes the entire time he drank, like you might lash out and attack him if he let his guard down for even a second. You managed to hold his gaze, but that same chill from before began to creep up your spine. It was so intense—and for what? Anyone who saw the way he was looking at you might think the two of you were involved in some kind of centuries-long blood feud between your families.

Even after he’d swallowed, he said nothing, and you felt your patience slip just a bit.

“If I’ve done something wrong, or if I’ve upset you somehow, please let me know,” you added.

“Upset me?” he hummed. “Yeah, actually, you did.”

You tensed.

“When you said I wasn’t funny, it really hurt my feelings,” he announced. “Apologize with flowers and tears, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

It almost sounded like his usual manner of joking around, but your glimmer of hope was put out by that same, cold expression. You tried not to lose sight of your goal, clinging to what Changbin had told you in the cafe. He’s easy to misunderstand.

“Minho,” you began lightly. “I’m being serious here.”

His eyes glinted under the flashing lights. “So am I.”

You allowed your face to drop at last, realizing right then and there that he had no intention of even telling you what you’d done wrong—let alone giving you the chance to make amends with him.

“What, you don’t like that idea?” he feigned hurt. “Maybe you’d rather get on your hands and knees and ask for forgiveness?”

You bristled. “That’s enough.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. A look almost akin to gratification crossed his features, like a crack in your demeanor was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Hm. Guess you’re not really sorry, after all.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, okay? Even as a joke.”

“I’d be glad not to talk to you at all,” he shot back. “But it seems you have nothing better to do than pick fights with me.”

Unbelievable. You had to stop yourself from clenching your fists, solely because of the fact your hand was still loosely clasped with Chan’s.

“Pick fights?” you repeated. “I’m trying to fix things between us!”

“There’s nothing between us to fix.”

The way he said it was strange, pointed. You were positive there was a deeper meaning to it, almost like he was implying that there was something for you to fix, just not with him. It planted an unpleasant thought in your mind—or, rather, watered the seed of an idea that was already rooted deep within it.

You’d managed to keep your voice hushed thus far to avoid causing a scene, but the building tension finally seemed to reach a tipping point, enough to catch Chan’s attention. He put his chatter with Jisung and Changbin on hold to give you a curious glance, and, as irritated as you were with Minho’s provocation, you smiled back at him.

“You alright?” he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, eyes darting momentarily in Minho’s direction. He’d turned away from you as soon as the opportunity had presented itself, going right back to talking with Jisung as if your conversation had never even happened. At least one part of what he’d said had been straightforward—he clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

“You’re friends with some pretty weird people, y’know that?”

Chan grinned. “Birds of a feather.”

Your spirits lifted a bit, taking comfort in the fact that he at least seemed oblivious to the altercation that had just taken place. Still, it was a shallow relief. You knew now, with complete certainty, that Minho wasn’t going to make things easy for you.

Of course he wouldn’t. Nothing was ever that easy.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

One month into the fall semester of your senior year, the academic distractions that you’d been longing for all summer were now upon you. Perhaps, even, a bit more intensely than you’d have liked.

Your classes were manageable enough—a significant improvement over the hellscape that was Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics—but the amount of time and effort your research lab demanded more than made up for what might’ve been an easy final term. When you weren’t attending your lectures or completing assignments, you were practically living in the astrophysics lab; analyzing spectroscopic measurements, reconstructing images from interferometric data, observing optical maps of the interstellar medium, and, on top of all that, sitting through countless meetings with your team.

It was as fulfilling as it was exhausting, and though you were more than happy to finally get some hands-on experience in your field of study, you couldn’t help but feel a bit wistful about this new routine as well. Your Experimental Physics II section with Changbin only took place once a week as opposed to the biweekly Thermodynamics lectures, and that, coupled with the lack of study sessions and your limited free time meant you were seeing him much less often than before. It was even worse in the cases of Chan and Iseul, both of which you rarely saw on campus to begin with. Even with Iseul more or less still treating your apartment as her second home, and Chan being his usual, relentlessly considerate self—never going too long without checking in on you—they were both busy with their respective capstone projects as well, leaving your interactions fewer and further between in comparison to the spring.

You knew it wasn’t rational, but it almost frightened you how such minor shifts in your daily life could feel so jarring, especially when graduation, the greatest shift of all, was looming on the horizon. The sands of time were trickling along without a care in the world, changing things little by little until they were unrecognizable. Some for the better, some for worse.

You’d thought you were handling the gaps in your time spent with Chan fairly well; that was, until it dawned on you halfway through September just how often your mind would drift to him while working on your research. Every new set of spectral line data or roAp star photometric variations had you visualizing what his reactions might be—his gleaming eyes that captivated you more than any of the stars you were observing, his voice growing shaky with excitement as he tried to discuss your observations without pausing every few seconds just to gush about how cool it all was.

You weren’t pleased with the number of instances your lab partners had caught you grinning to yourself in the middle of running tests and collecting data, giddy over the mere thought of his presence. As it turned out, Changbin hadn’t been too far off when he’d labeled you as lovesick.

Summoned by your thoughts, your phone vibrated against your desk to signal a text from none other than Changbin. You placed down your pencil in defeat, accepting the fact that you weren’t going to be getting any work done at this rate—daydreaming about how often you were daydreaming about Chan should’ve been indication enough.

bin 😑 (2:03 p.m.) number 5???

You blinked at your screen, dumbfounded.

bin 😑 (2:04 p.m.) number 5 pls pretty pls

you (2:04 p.m.) i sent you number 5 yesterday?

bin 😑 (2:06 p.m.) oh ;;; number 6 pls~~~

you (2:06 p.m.) i think i deserve an honorable mention on ur diploma

bin 😑 (2:07 p.m.) get me thru this hmwk and i’ll make it happen one for you and one for chan ><

The thought of it nearly made you laugh out loud: Changbin, trying to charm his way through the dean’s office to make a proposal as ridiculous as that. You didn’t doubt that he might try it, or that he might actually succeed in doing so.

Shuffling through your papers, you snapped a picture of your assignment, barely managing to fit the entirety of the required work in one shot.

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) thank uuu oh speaking of chan lol u know he’s sick?

you (2:10 p.m.) what???

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) i knew it he didn’t tell you -_-

You felt a pang of worry, countless questions filling your head at once. It’d been a day or two since you’d contacted Chan, even longer since you’d seen him in person—definitely over a week by now. The last time you’d talked hadn’t been over a phone call like usual; you’d texted him just to see how he was doing, and after a short chat he’d promised to meet up with you sometime the next week. It had been unusual, but not unusual enough for you to overthink it, especially considering how swamped the both of you were.

you (2:12 p.m.) how long has he been sick for?

bin 😑 (2:13 p.m.) couple days? actually more like a week now

Worry twisted into a sense of dread. Why hadn’t he told you?

You didn’t have to question it for long. You knew why—anyone who knew Chan well enough could piece it together with ease.

bin 😑 (2:14 p.m.) he hasn’t gone to class for a few days ㅜ you should visit him if you can

you (2:14 p.m.) yeah, i definitely will thanks for letting me know binnie

If your homework had been an afterthought before, it was long forgotten now. You didn’t bother to clean up your workspace before rising from your chair, leaving the scattered notes and eraser shavings for you to deal with later.

You weren’t sure what you were experiencing as you made your way over to your kitchen, digging around for ginger and garlic and praying that you’d have enough. It was an overreaction, probably, but you berated yourself regardless; for not noticing that something was wrong, for not pressing harder when asking how he’d been, for not questioning the longer periods of time you’d gone without talking. You’d wanted to give him his space, but for it to go as far as him thinking he shouldn’t tell you that he was sick—sick to the point where he couldn’t attend class, stirred something awful in you.

The pot nearly slipped from your hands in all your haste to prepare your materials, and you took a breath, forcing yourself to relax before you set fire to your apartment. Still, the concern, the guilt, didn’t die down. You were so accustomed to being in-tune with every aspect of your relationships, be it friends, family, or romantic partners, making note of every little detail, every subtle shift; sometimes before they themselves could even realize it. But for what was neither the first nor the last time, you had to remind yourself that this was Chan you were dealing with. Of course he wouldn’t tell you—he wouldn’t tell you anything that he believed might cause you even the slightest inconvenience. He would do whatever it took, go to any lengths imaginable, just to avoid committing the unforgivable sin of letting you care about him. It was the complete opposite of everything you'd come to understand about the world, the people around you, and it put you in a position that you weren’t sure you wanted to be in.

You weren’t going to stand idly by, watching him board his openings shut before anyone could catch a glimpse of what was inside, watching him burden himself with the fear of burdening others. Whatever had happened in the past for him to reach that point, you wanted to suck it out like poison until there wasn’t a single drop left in his system. You were going to be there for him, whether he liked it or not.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

His face was the last thing you’d expected to see when the door to unit 8-325 swung open.

Realistically, it shouldn’t have been. He did live there, after all. Like the annoying troll under the bridge that wouldn’t let you pass unless you answered his riddles three. It took everything in you not to make a face as you were met with Minho standing in the doorframe. He, of course, didn’t extend that same courtesy to you, eyes narrowing into an unmistakable grimace when he laid them on you.

“What do you want?”

“Hi to you, too,” you muttered.

His expression didn’t change, and, much to your disdain, you once again found yourself mesmerized by that gaze of his. You hated how effective it was; unreadable, yet communicating a thousand things all at once. Even if he really was as harmless as Changbin claimed, even if his cold glares and cutting comments were the extent of what he could do to you, your skin crawled all the same.

When you saw that he wasn’t planning on dignifying you with a response, you inched forward, expecting to be let inside. That would simply be too easy, though. Minho shifted so that his body blocked your path, pulling the door closer to him for good measure.

“Chan’s sick,” he deadpanned.

You paused, blown away for a moment by his audacity. “I know he’s sick,” you gritted your teeth. “I’m here to check on him.”

You might’ve sworn you saw the corner of his lips start to twitch, but you tore your eyes away too quickly to be certain. The last thing this man needed was whatever kind of ego boost he’d get from you paying a little too much attention to his features.

“Not much you can do,” he dismissed, voice light and airy as ever. “Unless you think gracing him with your presence is gonna make him all better.”

It was your turn to shoot Minho a glare, foot darting out just in time to prevent him from shutting the door in your face. Wordlessly, you lifted the container of galbitang into his view.

He raised an eyebrow, the closest thing to a genuine reaction you could get from him. “Changed your major to the medical route?”

“I don’t see you doing anything to help him,” you snapped.

Your patience was already minimal when it came to this guy, but ever since you’d confronted him at the event in August, it seemed like he’d made it his personal mission to run it as thin as possible every time you interacted with him. It was kind of impressive, really, the way he knew exactly how to push every last one of your buttons with ease.

Fresh out of half-assed excuses, Minho shrugged, as if he’d never even cared in the first place. He let go of the door handle, and you took that as a sign to push past him and slip inside.

You removed your shoes as quickly as you could, not wanting to spend another second around him if you could help it. Knowing that Changbin wasn’t home, you stalked past the kitchen and through the living room, the soothing scent of freshly-brewed yuja tea flooding your nostrils as you did. It almost made you feel bad about what you’d said to Minho, but you knew better than to apologize for it now—if you’d come to learn anything, it was that your peace offerings would be met with even more hostility than your provocation. Instead, you padded down the hallway, heading straight for Chan’s room.

Careful not to lose your grip on the container in your hands, you managed to give his door a light knock. A few seconds passed before you heard a faint “come in”, muffled by the sound of what was sure to be a pile of blankets. You braced yourself, recovering from your Minho-induced rise in blood pressure, then slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind you.

Chan blinked his eyes open just in time to see you approaching his bed. They were foggy, even more exhausted than usual, and they widened slightly when he registered who was standing before him.

“Hi, Channie,” you whispered. “Were you sleeping?”

“N-no, I—” his voice came strained and hoarse, so different from his pleasant, melodic lilt that you had trouble believing it was really him speaking for a second. “I was already awake.”

You rolled his desk chair over to the side of the bed, placing your container of galbitang on his nightstand next to the half-finished cup of tea and army of empty water bottles. He watched, stunned, as you sat down next to him, still trying to process what was going on.

“Um…how did you—?”

“Seo Changbin,” you hummed.

A weak smile formed on his face. “Bin…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” he croaked, not sounding alright at all. “Guess when you told me to look sick I took it a little too seriously, yeah?”

You let out a light giggle, and he tried to join you, only to spiral right into a violent coughing fit instead. It made your heart twist with sympathy, and you reached out to brush back his messy curls, resting your palm on his forehead. His skin was burning, and not in its normal way—if you could even call the amount of body heat he carried with him normal. It was heavy and sticky and pulsing, like you could physically feel the ache plaguing his head.

“Ah, wait,” he warned. “You shouldn’t touch me, you’ll catch it.”

I don’t care. You almost wanted to say it without restraint, but you settled for something more tactful, something less pointlessly dramatic. “You wouldn’t get me sick, would you?”

He flashed you another feeble smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry you have to see me like this,” he rasped, shrinking into the covers so that his face was only half visible.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie,” you ran your fingers gently through his hair. “I just wish you’d told me. How long have you been sick?”

The feeling seemed to relax him, weary eyes drooping just a bit as your nails grazed his scalp. “It’s only been like this for a few days,” he hesitated. “But I first started feeling it last week. Minho thinks it’s the flu.”

You stopped combing through his hair, letting your hand simply rest atop his head. He seemed to sense your disapproval, eyes peeking up at you from beneath the comforter to meet your frowning face.

“It’s not that bad, though,” he tried to assure you. “Just a cough and some headaches.”

“Bin said you haven’t been able to go to class.”

Chan sucked in through his teeth; caught. You sent out a silent apology to Changbin, realizing a split second too late that you’d probably set him up for a scolding as soon as Chan could speak without sounding like he had gravel in his throat.

“I just didn’t want you to worry,” he explained sheepishly. “Especially when you’ve been so busy.”

“I’m always thinking of you, anyway,” you countered, only half-joking. “So, please don’t hide stuff like this from me, okay? That’ll only make me worry more.”

For a moment, he stayed silent, and you got the feeling that your words hadn’t quite gotten through to him. Regardless, he eventually gave you a tiny nod.

“Promise?” you pressed.

“Promise.”

He didn’t hold out his pinky this time to seal the deal, but you chose not to dwell on it considering the fact that his hands were buried under layers upon layers of blankets. Instead, you gave his head one last pat and reached for the thermos on the nightstand.

“Can you eat?”

His face lit up at the sight of the galbitang. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I haven’t eaten yet today, actually.”

You frowned, biting back an exasperated comment. Even if his horribly skewed priorities frustrated you more than anything else—touching a part of you buried so deep within that you yourself couldn’t fully grasp it—you’d visited Chan with the intent of helping him, not lecturing him. There was no changing the outcome now, anyway. All you could do was try and make things a little easier for him, to balance out his determination to create new obstacles for himself as quickly as you could break them down.

“It should still be warm, but I can go heat it up if you’d like?” you were reluctant to ask, not keen on the possibility of seeing Minho again.

“No, no, s’alright,” he shuffled around in the sheets, trying to sit himself upright against the pillows. “I’ll eat it like this.”

As soon as his protective pile of covers slipped down his torso, he was shuddering. Even with the hoodie he was wearing, chills passed through his entire body, so strong that you could visibly see how his shoulders shook.

“Oh my God, Channie,” your voice softened to a tone that he’d only ever heard you use with him, one that soothed his pounding head. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?”

He attempted to say something in response—to deny it despite every cell in his body screaming otherwise—but between his sniffles and chattering teeth, it was hard to make out. You reached out with your free hand and pulled the covers back up his chest, draping them over his shoulders so that just his head and neck were exposed. Chan blinked at you, the confusion on his face morphing into subtle panic when he understood what you were planning.

“Ah…you don’t,” he coughed. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” You unscrewed the lid and unlatched the spoon from its side. “I want to, actually. If it’s okay with you.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you—the flush that crept up on his cheeks, even more visible than usual with how little color there was to his sickly complexion.

“Okay,” he averted his eyes. “Yeah, thank you.”

You scooped up a portion of the soup, making sure to gather a good mix of ingredients for him, then brought it up to his lips. He blew out puffs of air a few times before taking the spoon into his mouth, still refusing to meet your gaze.

Despite his awkwardness, a cute hum followed. “This is really good.”

“That’s how I know you’re sick.”

He giggled gently, careful not to set off another coughing fit. “No, I mean it,” he licked his lips. “I can taste the flavor, even though my nose is all stuffy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled, dipping the spoon back into the container. “I kinda made it in a rush, so I hoped it’d at least be edible.”

Chan finally looked up, fixing you with a guilt-ridden gaze. “I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, just as you brought another portion up to his lips.

“The only person you should be apologizing to is yourself,” you said firmly.

A comfortable silence filled the room, with nothing but the sound of Chan’s slurping and wheezy breaths breaking it. Though the bashfulness was still there—it always was—he gradually came to relax the more you fed him, slumping his shoulders and letting out those content, satisfied noises that you’d come to love so much after each hot spoonful. The sight of him, disheveled as he was, made your heart feel strangely full, the ripples of worry fading out until it was calm and clear. He was being cared for, looked after; even if for just a moment. You decided right then and there that it was the only thing you’d ever ask of him—to dare to let you treat him with an ounce of the kindness he showed everyone but himself.

The steam, garlic, and ginger seemed to do their job in clearing up his sinuses a bit, as his sniffling grew more and more frequent until it was obvious he was having a hard time containing it. He had to refrain from ducking his head, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him as you plucked a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his nose clean. Still, he thanked you quietly, sinking further into the pillows.

“Is there anything else I can do?” you sealed the now-empty container shut. “I can pick up any missing work for you tomorrow, if that helps.”

Chan’s eyes were half-lidded now, his weariness finally starting to catch up to him. “Nah, don’t trouble yourself. Most of my stuff is on my laptop, anyway.”

For the first time, you noticed the device amidst the blankets and sheets, teetering on the edge of his mattress in a way that made your adrenaline spike considering it was the precious amalgamation of all his blood, sweat, and tears since he’d entered university.

“Have you been working, even now?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “But I think staring at a screen just made my head feel worse. Gonna try again later.”

Before you could say anything else, he changed the subject, like he knew you’d advise against it the instant the words left his mouth.

“But how’s your work? Is the lab going okay?”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at your lips. You might not have let him get away with it if he hadn’t asked about the exact thing you’d been dying to share with him since the last time you’d met up. Maybe that was what he needed, anyway—something to cheer him up and take his mind off the perpetual ache consuming his body.

“I’m observing a pair of binary stars right now.”

He perked up against the pillows, lifting his head so quickly that it actually earned a light hiss of pain. Still, his face broke out into a smile, exactly the way you’d dreamed of when you’d first analyzed the spectral lines.

“What kind?”

“Spectroscopic.”

His dimples appeared for the first time that day. “The closest pair!” he chirped. “That’s amazing, I wish I could see it.”

“I can show you their Doppler shifts as the next best thing,” you offered. “They’re so close even the telescopes can’t separate them. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Super romantic,” he beamed, eyes twinkling through the glaze of illness. That familiar warmth spread through your skin—just by looking at him, you could tell he was thinking the same thing as you. “Orbiting so close and so fast…you think they’ll change each other’s evolution?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”

Like in the case of most binary pairs, one star burned brighter than the other—just the slightest bit. Even if the difference in them was miniscule, you had no doubt in your mind which of the two was Chan.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Space talk could only mitigate the effects of the flu for so long. Chan’s half-lidded eyes eventually drooped all the way shut, his raspy but enthusiastic chatter dying down into barely-responsive mumbles, then, finally, soft, steady snores. It took everything in you not to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, already accumulating beads of sweat as his fever began to break. Even after all your recklessness in getting so close to him while he was sick, you figured that would be pushing your luck a bit too far. Instead, you ensured he had enough water for when he’d inevitably wake up parched, adjusted his pillows so that his head was properly elevated, and tidied up the mess on his nightstand as best you could.

Carefully, you tiptoed out of his room, taking one last look at his sleeping face before shutting the door.

As you entered the living room from the hall, you found Minho seated on the couch; presumably hard at work, judging by the way he was hunched over his laptop, typing up a storm with computer glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He didn’t even spare you a glance when you passed him to toss the empty bottles in the recycling bin. You’d long learned to keep quiet around him to avoid setting off yet another tirade of petty insults and icy scowls, and you would’ve gladly gone without a word if the memory of your earlier accusation wasn’t nagging away at you. That, and, maybe the affection that had bubbled up inside you upon seeing Chan had let down your guard a bit.

Against your better judgment, you mustered up the will to say it. “Thanks for looking after him.”

Minho’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Obviously,” you replied evenly. “I just mean I’m glad he has you.”

You were prepared to leave it at that, both to let him resume his work, and avoid the claws that were sure to come out if you kept pressing the matter. To your surprise, however, he piped up again just as you began making your way over to the door.

“If you’re expecting me to say the same about you, don’t hold your breath.”

You told yourself to ignore it, but with just a few words, he’d effectively frosted over all the warmth that Chan had kindled in your chest. Something snapped in you, making you spin on your heels before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Minho’s eyes flickered up at last, widening for only a split second before they narrowed again.

“That’s no way to talk to someone in their home,” he clicked his tongue. “If I wasn’t such a gentleman, I’d kick you out.”

You held your ground, refusing to feel embarrassed about your outburst no matter how much he provoked you.

“Answer me.”

Minho rose from the couch with a sigh, making it no secret what an inconvenience he found you to be, what an utter waste of his time it was to even address you.

“What makes you think I have a problem?”

You let out a bitter laugh. The absolute gall of this man.

“Don’t play dumb with me, okay? Changbin told me this is just what you’re like, but I haven't seen you treat anyone else the way you treat me.”

Minho was closer now, still a few feet away, but near enough to put you on high alert. He looked so unrecognizable these days, you’d forgotten what it’d ever felt like to be comfortable around him, to be in the same room without that unease spreading through your skin.

“You think you’re special?” he sneered. “Do your ego a favor and listen to Changbin.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he carried on, still managing to sound so carefree despite the venom in his words.

“Unless, of course, you’re the only one allowed to give orders here.”

You froze.

“What?”

“Hit a nerve?”

“What are you talking about?” You had to contain yourself, solely for the meager hope that maybe, just maybe, you might get a clear answer from him for once.

“I’ve seen your type before, too many times,” he spat. “Chan just can’t seem to break that ugly habit—falling for people who only know how to take advantage of him.”

You bristled, so enraged that you couldn’t even think to answer. All that filled your head was red, hot anger, defiance, and, buried beneath all that, fear.

Anger that he had the audacity to speak to you that way. That he’d passed such a cruel and absurd judgment without so much as bothering to get to know you first. Defiance that he thought he had you all figured out when he didn’t even know the half of it—of what Chan meant to you, of what you’d been through, of the people who had chewed you up and spit you out just like he was implying you liked to do.

Fear that he was right. Fear that someone else was capable of having those thoughts about you, that they weren’t just your own baseless inhibitions. The lingering effects of what he had planted in your mind, never quite uprooted.

“My type,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Is just as capable of being taken advantage of.”

Minho crossed his arms, stare unbreaking as if inviting you to continue—to prove yourself to him. The thought alone made your stomach churn.

“You’re not as smart as you think,” you hissed. “You don’t know the first thing about me, and whatever happens between Chan and I is none of your business.”

He sniffed, unimpressed. “When you hurt him, it will be.”

He said it with so much certainty, so much confidence, you nearly believed it yourself. You clenched your fists, mustering all your strength to control the irrational amounts of rage bubbling up inside you. You thought of Chan, asleep in the other room amidst his nest of sweaty blankets and tissues, fighting off the flu on top of everything else he had resting on his shoulders. You thought of his exhausted face, paler than usual, and his cracked voice, still trying to reassure you even when he was in such a miserable state.

You took a deep breath, and you softened.

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

Minho said nothing. Maybe he thought it was too easy to counter, maybe he thought it wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Either way, you were done trying to make sense of him—done trying to defend yourself in front of someone who had long decided you were guilty.

So, he hated you. You could probably live with that. You didn’t exactly have a glowing opinion of him either.

You turned around, making a beeline for the door and slipping your shoes back on as calmly as you could. But, of course, it wasn’t over quite yet. Ending things on your terms, where you got the last say, wasn’t an option when it came to Minho.

“Running away from the fight you started again?” he called lazily. “This is getting boring.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Iseul’s sigh rang out through your apartment, so loud and so exaggerated this time that you couldn’t in good conscience brush it off. Half-amused by her transparency, you paused the show on your television, turning to give her a questioning look.

“Something wrong?”

“Look at that!” She gestured aggressively at the screen, where the male lead, soaked and forlorn with a bouquet of flowers in hand, was waiting in the pouring rain outside of his love interest’s home. “Where do I find someone like that, huh?”

You giggled, only to realize with a start that she was being dead serious. She pouted at you, and you cleared your throat, rushing to correct yourself.

“Are you still having problems wi—?”

“Yes,” she interjected, as if exasperated that it’d taken you this long to notice. “We had an argument earlier today. He called me needy, can you fucking believe that?”

You let out a hum of disapproval; you’d never really gotten a good vibe from this guy from the start, especially as Iseul’s boyfriend. He was far too emotionally unavailable for someone as expressive and sensitive as her.

“Why would he say that?”

“He’s just a dick. All I did was ask him to help me practice my marketing presentation—y’know, since you didn’t have the time to,” she added. You guessed it was probably just her frustration speaking, but something about the way she said it seemed off, like you were partially at fault for not being there to help her in the first place. “Then, after like two tries, he gets all annoyed with me saying I’m being way too nitpicky and wasting his time.”

You knew better than anyone how high-strung Iseul could be when it came to academics; it was the trait in her that had initially sparked your friendship, after all. She could be demanding, sure, but it was only because she cared so much about performing well. Being there for her any chance you got wasn’t even a matter of debate for you—it was the bare minimum, whether for a friend, or a significant other.

“Anyway, I’m still waiting on him to apologize,” she huffed. “I’m not the crazy one here, right? Like, do you think he has a point?”

“You’re not crazy.” You pressed your lips together, trying to approach the matter with caution. “I think you just have high expectations for people.”

“But that’s not a bad thing!”

“Of course not,” you agreed. “As long as you treat them with the same consideration.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I could literally be the best girlfriend ever if he’d just let me. He literally never appreciates the things I do for him.”

“Maybe you just have different ways of showing your care for each other?” you suggested. “You can try bringing it up next time you talk.”

Iseul groaned, dragging her hands down her face, as if the thought of urging him to have a mature, emotionally open conversation with her caused physical pain. “I guess. If he ever even bothers to text me again.”

“How long has it been?”

She looked away, uncharacteristically meek. “A few hours.”

“He usually takes that long anyway, right?” you reasoned. “He’ll definitely come around, try not to stress too much about it.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “I’m sick of thinking about it. How are things with Chan?”

It was the only detail of your life she ever really asked you about lately. You didn’t mind most of the time—you were more than happy to talk about him over other, significantly less pleasant things, but in this case, you felt a twinge of discomfort. You hated that the first thing that came to mind wasn’t Chan’s crinkled eye smile, but rather, Minho’s relentless death glare. The thought was unnerving enough for you to consider bringing it up with Iseul, just as a way to get an outside opinion from someone who wasn’t Changbin or Chan. Unlike them, Iseul didn’t know Minho at all, and you liked to think she was blunt enough to tell you objectively if you were in the wrong.  

“Pretty good,” you hesitated. “Well, there is something—”

“I’m sure they’re more than just good,” she interrupted again. “All you ever do is hang out with him these days.”

You flashed her a grin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Someone to entertain myself with once you’ve settled down?”

You were met with another huff. She crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowing in a way that immediately told you she wasn’t in the mood to joke.

“Doesn’t mean you have to ditch me now that you’ve got yourself a boytoy.”

“C’mon, Iseul,” you tried to keep your tone light. “You practically live here.”

She picked at her fingernails in silence, and you felt yourself start to panic a bit, suddenly taking the implication that you’d been neglecting your friendship much more seriously. You hadn’t noticed a difference, save for how much busier your schedules were this semester—but that was inevitable given how hectic senior year was for everyone. As much as Chan consumed your thoughts (something Iseul was better off not knowing) you barely saw him more often than her; in fact, given everything he was constantly juggling at once, you probably saw him less.

“What are you always so busy with, then?” she questioned at last, the slightest bit accusatory.

“The same as you. Classes and my senior research.”

You couldn’t decipher why she looked so unconvinced by the explanation, like the idea of you being preoccupied with your own personal matters was somehow incomprehensible to her. She shifted around in her spot, clearly set on the idea that there had to be more to it than that.

“Fine,” she turned her head back to the television, still frozen on that same, pitiful frame from the drama. “I still need someone to help me practice though, and I’m definitely not asking him again. So, it’s gotta be you.”

“Sure,” you replied. “I can definitely find time.”

You wanted to believe that she was just in a foul mood because of the fight with her boyfriend—and maybe that really was the whole of it. Surely, she wouldn’t dismiss the past two years you’d spent helping and supporting her the very instant you had to focus on yourself for a bit.

Even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help but wonder for the first time if the scale between you and her was more out of balance than you thought.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

October had arrived at last, bringing with it a pleasant chill in the air, early tints of orange on the trees, and a fresh wave of midterm exams. Most importantly, it brought Chan’s birthday. He’d recovered from the flu a mere few days before the third of the month, and you’d never been more grateful for the sight of his radiant smile and rosy cheeks, full of so much life that he energized not just himself, but everyone around him as well.

His birthday fell on a Tuesday, not exactly the most ideal time for a celebration between Experimental Physics II and The Life and Death of Stars, but you’d been determined to make it work. You would’ve made anything work if it meant getting to spend even an hour with him on the day where he was, for once, the center of the universe. A small get-together had been planned later in the evening at his apartment—actually a small get-together this time, as promised so seriously by Changbin—but you’d come up with an excuse to skip out on it. No matter how hard you wished it didn’t bother you, the idea of being under the same roof as Minho again had been all the reason you needed to keep away. You had no doubt in your mind that he’d do everything in his power to make you feel unwelcome, and you didn’t trust yourself to remain collected around the guy after he’d proven time and time again how talented he was when it came to riling you up.

The last thing you’d wanted was to cause a scene on Chan’s birthday; it wasn’t even worth risking. If you put a damper on his happiness simply because you couldn’t stop yourself from fighting with his best friend like two feral street cats each time you crossed paths, you’d never forgive yourself. Instead, you’d met up with him for lunch and pastries earlier in the day, with the perfect excuse to cover all the expenses for it—much to your delight, and much to his dismay. Even if you were a bit wistful about missing out on the real celebration later, Chan’s beaming face when he’d opened your gift, the best external hard drive you could afford, had more than made up for it.

It’d been a week since then, another week where you and Chan barely found the chance to lift your heads from the sea of work to check in on each other. You knew that he was especially overwhelmed. His sickness couldn’t have come at a worse time, leaving him playing catch up with all his missed assignments and lectures on top of the stress of midterms.

Your thumbs hovered over your phone screen, tapping against each other as you debated whether or not to send him a message. As if on cue, it lit up with a notification that made your breath catch.

channie 🐺 (1:03 a.m.) you awake?

you (1:03 a.m.) yeah hi channie

There was a delay before he texted again, three little dots appearing and disappearing below your chat bubble more than once, like he was repeatedly typing and deleting what he wanted to say.

channie 🐺 (1:07 a.m.) can i call you?

The question felt strange, unlike him. You’d grown accustomed to expecting his calls the very instant he’d find out you were available—more often than not, without any warning at all.

you (1:07 a.m.) do you even have to ask?

channie 🐺 (1:09 a.m.) i should probably start haha sorry

You frowned. Something was definitely off.

you (1:09 a.m.) nooo that’s not what i meant  ur calls are the best surprise

Another minute passed without a response, and you began to worry that you’d actually upset him. Then, your screen lit up again, this time to signal his incoming call.

He didn’t greet you immediately after you picked up like he typically did. You registered the subtle sound of whirring on the other end of the line, like a breeze was billowing through his phone speaker.

“Chan?”

“Hi,” he sounded out of breath. “What’s up?”

“I was about to check on you, actually,” you confessed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

Your heart fluttered, but it didn’t fully ebb the worry piling up inside you. “I missed you,” you murmured. “Starting to think dropping out isn’t such a bad idea.”

He chuckled—light, barely there. It was gone as soon as it came, as if not to overstay its welcome. The distant sound of a car engine met your ears, distracting you from what you’d planned to say next.

“Are you on your balcony?”

“Taking a walk,” he replied.

You blinked. “At this hour?”

“Yeah, couldn’t really sleep.”

For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest. You’d never heard him sound like this before. Blunt, sullen, defeated. A part of you, the hypervigilant part, wondered if he simply wasn’t in the mood to talk—but then, why would he have even asked to call you?

“Oh no,” you made a soft noise of sympathy. There was a pause as you mulled over how to approach it; whether to nag him not to get his adrenaline rushing so late, to offer words of comfort for whatever seemed to be bothering him, or to pretend like everything was okay, just to take his mind off of it. You didn’t want to keep pressing after you’d already asked once, but something was very clearly wrong; so wrong that Chan himself was making little effort to hide it.

“Do you want to look at the moon?”

A deep inhale. “Yeah.”

Wedging your phone between your ear and shoulder, you pulled up the blinds of your bedroom window and pushed it open, allowing the cool, October air to waft through your senses and drift over your skin. The moon was in its Waning Crescent phase, a thin, delicate slice of light illuminating the clear sky. You tried to picture Chan on the other end, the wonder in his tired eyes, the slope of his nose tilted upwards as he admired it like it was the first time it’d ever graced the night.

“Are you looking?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’ll be a new moon soon.”

“Yeah,” he said again.

A silence stretched across the call, not quite uncomfortable, but not quite serene, either. Even from afar, you could feel the thoughts buzzing in his head like they were your own, disturbing any peace the view might usually wash over him. His breathing, at least, steadied, and you guessed he’d stopped walking to get a proper look at the sky.

The two of you stayed that way for some time, long enough for you to start filling the gaps with his absentminded humming and sweet vocalizations. There was none of that today; just silence.

Then, you heard it. Faint, muffled, like he’d turned away from his phone to avoid letting you catch it: a sniffle.

“Channie,” you whispered. “Are you really okay?”

“Just my leftover cold, don’t worry.”

You kept quiet. You both knew he’d fully recovered well over a week ago.

“Sorry,” he said weakly. “Can I come over?”

“Right now?” You glanced at the time. It was already nearing 2:00 a.m., you didn’t want him to make such a long walk this late, especially not in his current condition. “Why don’t I come meet you?”

“No, no, ‘s alright.”

“Well, of course you can come. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended. It left you feeling heavy with unease, an emotion you’d never once associated with Chan. As foreign as it was, it made you all the more determined to be there for him, to take on some of the weight he carried everywhere he went before his knees completely buckled underneath him. In your eyes, he was just like the moon he loved so much—always shining down on you with the brightest side of him, and never allowing you to see the other. You wanted to break the tidal lock and see the dark side of the moon. To uncover all the hidden craters and basins and accept them as a part of him.

Not even ten minutes had passed before you heard a knock at your door, far too soon for him to have arrived by foot. It made you realize, with another tug at your heart, that he must’ve already been on his way to your apartment when he’d first called.

When you swung open the door, there was a short lapse before his smile came, strained, but relieved. His hair was tousled from the wind, eyes outlined with dark circles, and black jacket unzipped. It hung loosely off his shoulder, and when you pulled him into a hug, you could feel the chill from the outside air lingering on his skin. Even so, his persistent warmth still seeped through; it always did.

Neither of you said anything as you took his hand in yours, guiding him to the other room. You settled down next to him on the edge of your bed, facing the window where the moon was still watching over you. Chan kept his eyes firmly locked on it, but his fingers brushed tentatively against yours, tracing the lines of your fingerprints and palms as if to commit them to memory.

“Sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You could never bother me,” you said simply.

It was so immediate, so natural, it had him taken aback for a moment. He sucked in through his teeth, well aware of your gaze studying his side profile with growing concern.

“At the showcase,” he mumbled. “Did you really mean what you said?”

The question could’ve been in reference to anything, but somehow, that was all he needed to ask for you to know exactly what he was talking about.

“Of course.”

Memories of him up on that stage flooded your mind. His charisma, his passion, his belief in Changbin and Jisung and, for a fleeting moment, himself. Just thinking about it was enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin.

“When I saw you performing, all I could think about was how much you belonged up there.”

Chan’s breath hitched. At last, he turned his head to face you, that same look from the night of the party—the one that troubled you for reasons you couldn’t explain—crossing his features again. Hopeful eyes searched for any hint of insincerity, any shadow of a doubt, only to find nothing but raw affection.

He leaned in suddenly, brushing his nose against yours in a wordless plea, and you closed the space between you. His lips were the slightest bit chapped from the crisp autumn air, but their plushness was never lost, consuming your senses with that soft, irresistible quality you could never get enough of. He melded seamlessly into you, filling every gap and crevice, pulling you further in like waves lapping at a shore.

Chan turned slightly on the bed, angling his body to bring himself closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours. For such a simple touch, it made him sigh sweetly into you, lips parting to add a new degree of heat to it all. His fingers flexed in your hand, and you used the other to cup his face, holding him steady as he moved his mouth with increasing urgency. Cute, tiny sounds built up in his throat each time your tongue slid against his, growing louder and louder until he was all but whimpering into your mouth.

His desire, normally thinly-veiled by a layer of timidity, was on full display tonight—not quite pushy, rather, begging with every pucker of his lips and graze of his teeth for you to take things a step further, to let him fall completely into you. It was a lack of restraint you often had to build into, to guide him there yourself. You kept telling yourself to get a grip, to break the kiss and check on the boy who, just minutes ago, appeared to be on the verge of falling apart; but it was fruitless to even think about ridding yourself of a sensation so addictive. His free hand reached for your waist, hesitant as ever to grab on as tight as he needed to. Instead, he took your shirt between his fingers, playing with the fabric in a way that, strangely enough, was even more exhilarating.

The sounds spilling out of Chan became muddled together, and it took you a few seconds to realize that he was trying to say something to you.

“Please,” he whined. “Please, please.”

You ran your thumb along his cheek, unlocking your lips from his at last. “What is it, baby?”

“Need you,” his breath was shaky, lungs aching from the intensity of the kiss. “Can I make you feel good? Please, let me this time.”

You paused, pulling away to get a proper look at him. “Are you sure?” you frowned. “You don’t look well, Channie. Why don’t we talk?”

“N-no, ‘m okay. Just really need you right now.”

His gaze flickered down to the spot between your thighs, and he swallowed. It affected you more than you wanted to admit—the pure want in his eyes for something so selfless.

“I’ll be good,” he promised. “However you want it, I’ll do it. Please.”

You scanned his face a few moments longer, trying to put aside the arousal spreading through you at an alarming rate, just long enough to get a read on him. Your concerns were still very much there, but the look on his face told you that he wanted—needed this even more than you did.

Gently, you squeezed his hand one last time before unlacing your fingers. “Alright...if that’s what you want.”

Chan watched, mesmerized, as you repositioned yourself on the bed, resting your back against your pillows and slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to tug them off.

“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “I’ll do well. Promise.”

It nearly made you coo out loud. All this just to please you, just to satisfy desires that, unbeknownst to him, were already fulfilled just by being with him. Still, you knew Chan well enough to understand that it wouldn’t sit right in his mind until he gave you everything he had to offer. He’d give you his all if only you would let him.

Even as you slipped off your underwear, he stayed put, unmoving until you gestured for him to come over. He licked his lips, eyes shining in the low light when you spread your legs at last. Your heartbeat picked up as he settled between them, suddenly so close that you could feel each shaky breath of his tickling your sensitive skin. Tentatively, he placed his hands on your thighs, glancing up at you to ensure that it was really okay. You gave him an encouraging nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak when the only thing you could focus on was how dangerously close his mouth—his perfect mouth—was to your most intimate spot.

With your permission granted, he began pressing kisses to your inner thigh. They started off with that same shyness you knew, careful and reserved, but quickly became less and less controlled the more his mouth roamed. His lips were smoother now, wet and glossy, and they sent tiny jolts through your senses each time they came in contact with your skin. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought he was purposely trying to tease you, giving hints of what he could make you feel without diving in fully just yet. But the way he kneaded your flesh with the pads of his fingers, a low, desperate noise bubbling up inside him, said otherwise. He was appreciating every bit of you, basking in the moment, as if he may never get the chance to have his head between your legs again.

His sloppy kisses drew closer and closer to your heat, and when his lips came to hover over it at last, you had to stop yourself from pushing against his face right then and there. Delicately, his tongue slid out to glide from your entrance right up to your clit, ending it with a gentle flick that sent a shiver down your spine. He repeated the action almost immediately, a sweet hum escaping him as your arousal flooded his tastebuds.

Your hand fell down to his head, gripping his curls in a way that made his own pleasure spike, if the sudden whine he let out was any indication. He continued licking away, each intoxicating lap of his tongue growing more confident and making you ask yourself just why on earth you’d ever deprived yourself of such a feeling. It satiated a need that you hadn’t even known was there to begin with, twisted the muscles in your core with both tension and relief. If it’d been a while since he’d used his mouth like this, it certainly didn’t show.

“Am I…” he slurred. “Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you assured him. “My sweet boy, using that pretty mouth for me. Making me feel so good.”

Your praises earned a moan from him, so loud you’d think he was the one experiencing the hot, delicious rhythm of his tongue. The sound vibrated against your folds, making your toes curl and your nails dig further into his scalp.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you giggled breathlessly.

“Mm. Just wanna—mmph—please you,” he managed between licks. “Wanna be a good boy for you.”

Before you could respond, heart-shaped lips wrapped unexpectedly around your clit, engulfing it with his plush, wet warmth and sending shockwaves all throughout your body. Despite your best efforts, you gasped, barely able to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs around his head. He sucked eagerly, adding just the right amount of pressure that, if kept up, was sure to draw you to a climax faster than you’d ever experienced before.

“Just like that.” You let your eyes flutter shut. “Good boy. You were made for this.”

Chan dragged his upper lip along the sensitive bud, the tip of his nose brushing against it in a way that threatened to snap the tightening coil in your abdomen all at once.

“Made f-for you,” he stuttered out. “Please, tell me I’m good for you. Tell me ‘m okay.”

You weren’t sure if it was his own arousal becoming too much for him to bear, but his voice had become near-frantic, as did the strokes of his tongue. His movements grew sloppier and sloppier, drool mixing with your essence and nose dragging along your folds almost obsessively.

You ran your fingers through his curls, hoping to keep him grounded. “More than okay. You’re perfect for me, baby boy.” 

A broken whimper met your ears, driving you closer to the edge. “Yeah? ‘M doing well? Please, tell me I’m good,” he begged. “P-please, wanna be good enough.”

Amidst all his pleading and babbling, the words caught you off guard, pulling you out of your blissful haze all at once. Something wet dripped against your skin, warmer and thinner than any of the other fluids pooling at your core, and it made your eyes snap open in alarm.

“Channie?”

“I’ll do it right.” He didn’t look up, still working his mouth despite the choked noises building up in his throat. His hands pawed at your thighs, gripping and squeezing with so much urgency that you’d think he was terrified you might disappear. Another hot droplet ran down your skin, and as you blinked to refocus your vision, you finally noticed it—the trembling of his shoulders. “Just please, l-let me show you ‘m worth something.”

“Chan.” Panic gripped you, and you used your clutch on his hair to catch his attention. “Chan, stop for me, baby.”

Every one of your nerve-endings screamed out in protest as he obediently unlatched himself from you, releasing the mind-numbing suction of his lips. But your worry quickly overtook any of the remaining lust in your body. Chan sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to lift his head, and you slid your hand down to his dripping chin, tilting it up into view.

He was crying; tears trickling down his cheeks with fresh ones brimming in his clouded eyes. He squeezed them shut, unable to meet your stare, and your heart may as well have snapped in two.

“Oh, Channie,” you whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” his voice failed him, anything he’d been planning to say fading out into a sob. “S-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

A lump rose in your throat, guilt flooding your chest. You’d known he was off from the beginning—you should’ve done something, you shouldn't have let things get to this point. This was Chan, after all. Of course he’d pretend that he was fine for you, of course he’d try to make himself useful to you instead. You should’ve known better.

Still, you kept calm, even if it was surface-level, you steadied your volume and relaxed your expression; something to ground him amidst it all. “Don’t be sorry. Come see.”

He blinked the tears out of his eyes, only for them to immediately glaze over again. The skin around them had turned red and puffy, and coupled with the exhaustion written all over his face, he looked positively broken. “Sorry, ‘m okay, really,” he tried to insist. “I just…”

One look at your outstretched arms was all it took for him to lose his last shred of composure. He surged forward with a hiccup, falling into you and burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms securely around him, the tear in your heart growing as you felt him shake against you with each gasp and sob that racked his body. His flow of tears didn’t stop, in fact, it only seemed to come stronger in your hold, warm droplets streaming freely and seeping through the fabric of your shirt. You stayed quiet for a bit, just allowing him to release as you ran your hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Why are you crying, baby?” you murmured again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I c-can’t fail,” he managed at last, barely coherent through the slur of his speech. “N-not again. I can’t.”

“Fail? Why would you fail?”

He didn’t answer right away—or, rather, he couldn’t, another feeble gasp effectively cutting off any response he’d mustered up. Despite the slew of questions his words unleashed in you, you remained patient, cradling his head with your free hand while the other continued to rub his back. For all its strength and broadness, it was more fragile than ever shuddering under your palm.

“It’s my last chance. C-can’t mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” you said firmly. Even without any idea as to what he was talking about, you knew that much was true. “What makes you think that?”

Another minute or so passed of him trying to gain control over his hiccups, just long enough to get a proper sentence out. “My mentor,” he took a deep breath. “My mentor rejected my project. S-said it needs a complete rework.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Why?”

You winced at how loud it’d come out, but the utter disbelief in your tone at least seemed to encourage Chan to keep going. He sniffled, still refusing to lift his head from the comfort of your shoulder.

“Just wasn’t good enough.”

“Don’t say that.” The possibility wasn’t even worth considering to you. There had to be more to it; you refused to accept otherwise, not when you’d witnessed firsthand how earnestly Chan poured his heart and soul into every piece of music he’d ever created. “I know that can’t be it.”

A thought flickered to life in your head, one so obvious that you scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. “Did you have enough time to work on it?”

“I…” he began weakly. “I t-tried.”

“You were sick for over two weeks, Channie. Does your mentor know that?”

His breath caught in his throat, telling you all that you needed to know. “Don’t...wanna make excuses.”

“But it’s not an excuse, is it? It’s just the truth,” you reasoned. “You couldn’t even get out of bed. There’s no way you could do your best under those conditions.”

“I...I sh-should’ve—”

“You should’ve been getting enough rest. You should’ve told him what was going on.”

Your words seemed to reach him at last, cutting carefully through the thick fog of self-deprecation and sabotage consuming his mind just enough for him to really mull it over. He inhaled again, slower and deeper this time, but still not free of that painful tremor.

“M-maybe,” he rasped. “Maybe I did need more time.”

“There we go.” You combed through his hair. “Your best is more than good enough, Channie. Your mentor wouldn’t have done this study with you otherwise.”

You wanted, more than anything, to see his face as you spoke, to look directly into his red, watery eyes and let him know exactly how much you meant it. But you knew how vulnerable he must be feeling for you to even see him like this, so you let him be, hoping the message would get through to him nonetheless. “I’m sure if you explain it to him, he’ll understand. He knows what you’re capable of, and so do I. So please, don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

Chan’s shoulders relaxed just barely in your arms. He nuzzled further into you, and little by little, the trembling under your palms came to a stop. Given how hard he’d been crying—even now, with new ripples of tears still trickling onto your clothes—you were certain there was something else brewing deep within him. This was only the tip of the iceberg, the breaking point. Even so, you didn’t press the matter just yet, instead choosing to nurture the hint of calm that had begun to creep up on him.

“Do you really think I can do this?”

Your hand slid down to the nape of his neck, playing gently with the wisps of curls that swooped out. “I know you can,” you murmured. “And even if I didn’t, you’d do it anyway. You were made for this.”

A sweet sound, something between a sigh and whine, spilled out of him. Under any other circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t accept it without a protest or two, but in that moment, he absorbed it wholly—clung to it, even. His head finally lifted from the mess of tears and sweat that had formed in the crook of your neck, only to fall right into your chest instead, not quite ready to face you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and he scooted impossibly closer to you, his thigh brushing between your legs in a way that you willed yourself to ignore. “Why don’t we go wash up?”

He tightened his grip on you, another soft noise gracing your ears. “Can we stay like this, please? Just a little longer.”

You softened. “Of course. Anything you want.”

He slumped fully against you as you rested your hand on the small of his back, the last of his reservations effectively washing away. You played loosely with the hem of his hoodie, listening to the sound of his breathing and taking comfort in the fact that it was finally beginning to even out.

The two of you stayed peacefully like that for several minutes, that was, until something warm and damp spread through your shirt, immediately catching your attention. Not tears this time, rather, the feeling of Chan’s mouth pressing against your chest.

Your heart skipped a beat. His lips puckered faintly, forming a moist ring over the material, right around your nipple. Just as you were about to pass it off as an accident, it happened again.

“Is there something you need, Channie?”

“You,” it came muffled. He parted his lips, wider this time, nibbling delicately on the fabric. “Can I? Please?”

It didn’t take much thought for you to understand what he was implying. An uncharacteristically self-indulgent request, one that filled you with affection and pooled heat in your stomach all over again.

“You’re so cute.” You couldn’t help yourself, his transparency made you melt like nothing else—you only wished that it would extend to other aspects of his life, ones that you were equally as hungry for.

Careful not to disturb him too much, you slipped your hands under your shirt and wiggled out of it. Chan lifted his head, albeit briefly, to make it easier for you to unclasp your bra. The instant your skin was bared to him, he nestled right back into your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sending a spark of electricity through your body. He sucked gently at the bud, taking in your scent through his nose and exhaling contently. His hand, covered by the sleeve of his jacket, reached up for your other breast, pawing at it with timid fingertips before squeezing the soft flesh at last.

“My sweet boy,” you cooed. “My baby boy who works so hard he forgets to care for himself.”

He whimpered, puckering and unpuckering his plump lips in a way that would’ve made you rub your thighs together had he not been settled between them. You cupped the back of his head, and his eyes fluttered shut, a look of pure bliss crossing his face. The red, hot flush from all his crying was replaced with something softer now, a rosy shade dusting his puffed cheeks.

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you continued. “I hope you’ll see it one day. I’m so proud of you.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, an especially high-pitched whine escaping him. For a moment, you worried that he may begin to cry again, then, you felt it—his bulge brushing against your leg. His hips rocked forward so subtly, you weren’t even sure if he himself was aware of it, but once you’d noticed, it became hard to ignore the spike in your adrenaline.

Driven on by the feeling of his tongue swirling hungrily around your nipple, you let your hand drift down to the waistband of his pants. His mouth fell open as you traced over his bulge, all but jolting against you. “A-ah, yes. Touch me,” he pleaded.

“My baby’s so needy today,” you teased, dipping your fingers into his underwear and wrapping them around his half-hard length. He tightened his hold on your chest, his low, drawn-out moan sending a delicious vibration through your skin. “But good boys like you get whatever they want.”

Chan unlatched his lips from your nipple, only for any attempt at a reply to be cut off as you began pumping your hand along his dick. The cool night air drifting through your window was no match for the heat building between your bodies; that same, inexplicable heat that always drew you back to him. His fingers flexed around the softness of your breast, and you realized with a soft giggle that he was subconsciously mirroring the pace of your strokes.

You stopped to roll your palm over the head of his cock, smearing the droplets of precum around to add a layer of slickness to your movements. The cry it earned was nothing short of heavenly, ringing out shamelessly through your bedroom and making your core clench. Chan’s hip shot up into your grasp, so overtaken by the pleasure that he forgot to keep sucking for a moment, instead letting his mouth hang as drool began to dribble from its corner.

“Does that feel good?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes,” he slurred. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You deserve it,” you guided his head closer to your chest, allowing him to take your nipple between his swollen lips again. “You deserve to feel so good, angel.”

A wet, sticky sound, mixing with Chan’s pleas, began building as you glided your hand up and down his cock more steadily. Despite everything, it flustered him the moment he registered it, legs squeezing together with a broken whine.

“You hear that? Even the sounds your body makes are cute,” you hummed. His eyes, already shut tight, scrunched up even further to form an adorable look of embarrassment. “My pretty boy. You don’t even know how perfect you are for me.”

“Please,” he mewled, almost unintelligible through the skin and drool occupying his mouth. “Please, ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?”

He could only whimper in response, cock twitching in your hand as you added a delicious pressure to your strokes. He kneaded your chest with more vigor, leaning in to suck on your other nipple and sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His mouth was like wet, warm velvet encasing the sensitive bud; you found it hard to believe that those same lips had been between your legs earlier, drawing you to a climax with a purpose that you could only describe as raw devotion.

“Gonna—!” Chan’s hips bucked up, his whole body tensing. “A-ah, please, can I?”

You swiped your thumb playfully over his slit, and he practically keened. It was cruel, probably, but his unrelenting need to please you, even amidst all the desperation clouding his judgment, only made you want to toy with him more. Still, you knew that given the state he was in, teasing was out of the question. He needed comfort, pleasure, relief—and all of it rested in the palm of your hands.

“Let me see you cum like a good boy.” You gave one final jerk of your wrist, sending him over the edge at last. His thighs clenched, voice catching in his throat for a moment before breaking out into a gasp. Even so, he kept sucking to the best of his ability, babbles of your name dying down into soft mewls as the last few spurts of his seed coated your palm. You held still to avoid overstimulating him, curling his hair absentmindedly around your index finger until his cock finished throbbing in your grasp. Chan blinked his eyes open, still hazy and puffy, just in time to see you remove your hand from his pants and spread your fingers, connected by thick strings of his release.

“Look at all that,” you marveled. “You really needed this, huh?”

A low whine built in his throat. He pressed his cheek into your chest, shying away from the messy view.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Mhm,” he managed a chuckle—quiet, still missing the jovial, melodic quality of his laughter, but even a trace of it was all it took to lift your spirits. Other than that, he said nothing, and you guessed he wasn’t entirely grounded just yet. You reached for a tissue from your nightstand, making a light grunt of effort with Chan’s full weight resting against you, and wiped down your hand to the best of your ability. As you leaned back against the pillows, your stare flickered down to the boy in your arms. He was an absolute wreck now; a sweaty, flushed, beautiful wreck of dried tears and drool gazing back up at you like he would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You did so well for me, Channie,” you praised. “Such a good boy.”

Pressing a quick kiss to his ruffled curls, you shifted beneath him, wordlessly urging him to let you wiggle off the bed. His reaction was immediate, sweater paws gripping your waist with an unexpected intensity.

“W-wait,” it was tinged with panic. “Don’t go, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you assured him, tapping the tip of his nose. “But we need to get you cleaned up, don’t we?”

He blinked a few times before the words seemed to get through to him. Then, with a slow nod, he hoisted himself off of you. It came as a surprise—though it shouldn’t have—how your body instantly longed for his warmth again. You took both of his hands into yours, almost tempted to push his sleeves back to properly lace your fingers together. But he seemed content with his palms covered like that, safe and secure in a way you didn’t dare to disrupt. With care, you tugged him up by his arms, letting him lean against you as you guided him to the bathroom. He didn’t let go of either of your hands the entire time, and, as awkward as the intimate gesture made it to walk, your heart fluttered.

You set the water to a warm temperature, watching Chan sway back and forth on his feet as you filled up the tub. His eyes were a bit more alert now, breaking the glaze that had encased them all throughout the night, like the reality of what had taken place was beginning to set in his mind.

“Wanna get undressed for me, Channie?”

There was a delay before he responded, long enough for you to give his hand a squeeze.

“Oh…yeah.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, clumsy fingers fiddling with his hoodie in an attempt to shrug it off. With a fond smile, you reached out to help slide it down his shoulder. His arms fell limply to his sides, and you took it as a sign to keep going, slipping your fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugging it off, his pants and underwear following soon after. Even now, he ducked his head, unable to look you in the eye as you shut off the stream of water and ushered him into the tub.

As he sank into the warm pool, a sigh escaped him, so soft and relieved that you could practically feel the bliss rippling through his body. You sat yourself down on the edge of the tub, taking a moment to soak your washcloth before drizzling it with body wash—vanilla and cherry blossom, a blend of scents you’d quickly come to learn was Chan’s favorite. He loosened up the instant you came in contact with his skin, leaning into your touch. Gently, you began to scrub, lathering his broad back and shoulders with the sweet, flowery smell and admiring every curve and muscle in the process.

The rhythmic drag of the loofah and the gentle lap of the water had him reduced to putty in your hands in no time. He didn’t bother to resist the way his eyes drooped shut, each tranquil rock earning a small hum from him.

“Does that feel nice?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Channie. Your muscles are so tense,” you added. “I hope this helps a bit.”

He hummed again, tilting his head to the side as you moved up to the junction of his shoulder and neck, the comforting scent of your soap fully flooding his nostrils. Knowing how sensitive his neck was, you were careful not to press too hard around the area. It was horribly timed, but your skin tingled as you passed over the spot where you’d previously marked him—long faded by now, but you remembered the visual clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “About all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” you ran the cloth along the slope of his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t want you to hide stuff like this from me—isn’t that what we promised?”

He hesitated. “I…yeah.”

“Even big, strong shoulders like yours can’t carry everything by themselves,” you scolded lightly. It earned a puff of laughter, and even with his eyes still closed tight, he lowered his head sheepishly.

The question that had been lingering in the back of your mind all night—the question that had been eating away at you since you’d first met him, really, made its presence known once again. The missing piece of the puzzle, the hidden crater yet to be illuminated. You knew by now that Chan wouldn’t reveal it without a strong enough nudge, no matter how badly he wanted to. Even if it was threatening to burst out of his chest, just aching for a pin to come along, he’d use all his strength to keep in until you punctured it yourself.

“Chan,” you pressed your lips together. “When you said ‘not again’…can I ask what you meant by that?”

He stiffened under your palms, features darkening to form that same expression as all those months ago, when you’d first asked why he’d changed majors. You repressed the urge to take it back this time—you needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

“Spring semester of my senior year,” he mumbled. “I failed most of my classes.”

Something awful gripped you, so intensely that you stopped scrubbing for a moment. Failed. It felt so wrong coming out of his mouth, a word you couldn’t comprehend ever applying to him.

“I…I decided to change from astrophysics and try music. It was something I always kinda wanted to do, anyway.” He sounded so nervous—terrified, even—shrinking into himself as he spoke as if each sentence made him more and more vulnerable to some hidden assailant waiting to attack. You continued your ministrations with the hopes of easing his fears a bit, wringing out the washcloth before adding more soap and running it along his chest. Even through the rough material, you could feel how fast his heart was beating.

“My parents, they…I've never really disappointed them like that before,” his voice cracked on the word “disappointed”, like it physically pained him to say. “I still don’t think they’ve really accepted it. They still look at me like…like I'm…”

He trailed off. He didn’t have to say it for your gut to wrench.

“Maybe once I graduate, they’ll think I'm worth something again.”

“Please, don’t talk like that,” you couldn’t hide your own distress. “You’re worth something as you are. It’s your future, Chan, not theirs.”

“But what if I can’t do it?” he whispered. “What if I just fail again? I’m so…so scared that I’m making the wrong decision.”

“It must be scary,” you agreed, gliding the washcloth along the tense curves of his arms. “Really hard, too. But that’s because you’re carving out your own path. No one else has walked it before you to clear out the way.”

He went quiet, and you took it as a sign to continue, a chance to keep swinging at the seemingly indestructible wall of self-doubt he’d so carefully crafted for years.

“You’re not alone, either,” you encouraged. “Think of Bin and Jisung and all that faith you have in them. Think of how much faith they must have in you to follow you down that path without question.”

If only he knew—if only he saw the admiration for him written all over their faces, oozing from every word they spoke. If only he knew the admiration you’d felt for him as early as when Changbin had first told you about him choosing music composition. Daring to take a route that, in many ways, was more challenging than even the most horrific of astrophysics courses. Not only that, but daring to flourish, leaving room for flowers to grow along the way wherever he roamed.

When Chan replied, you could've sworn you heard the faintest glimmer of hope in it. “I guess I never really thought of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way,” you chided softly. “I know you can do it. Just because others want you to do something, doesn’t mean it’s right. What’s right is what makes you happy.”

He loosened up further, welcoming your cleansing touch and your words of compassion more and more openly. You washed him in silence for another few minutes, debating in your head whether or not to keep pursuing the matter, to peel back another layer of him and get to his core.

“Were you…unhappy doing astrophysics?”

“Not exactly.” You got the feeling he could tell what you were really attempting to ask him. “I meant it when I said I liked it. That’s…not why I failed.”

You made a noise of understanding that masked the countless other things you wanted to say. He jolted just barely as you ventured down to clean his stomach, approaching his most sensitive area with a touch as gentle as it was deliberate. Care with a purpose.

“The…the person I was with, at the time,” he paused—whether to gather his thoughts, or to gauge your reaction, you weren’t entirely sure. Your eyes widened just a bit, but you kept your hand stubbornly occupied, scrubbing over his sore thighs. Like clockwork, they nearly closed in on each other. “She had a lot going on. Her mother was really sick; in and out of the hospital a lot.”

Even as dread stirred within you, like you knew exactly where this story was going, you left him space to continue.

“She just needed some help with everything she was dealing with in her life, y’know? I wanted to help.”

“I know you did,” you murmured. It was a given, one of the few certainties in life. Chan would always help, for no reason other than the fact that he could.

“I t-tried to be there for her. Took her wherever she needed to go, helped with her classes, visited her mother, looked after her little sister when she couldn’t,” he swallowed. “Then, around May, things got really bad. Her mom needed treatment for a few weeks, so I spent most of my time at the hospital or taking care of her sister.”

Something about the way he phrased it made you feel compelled to ask, “Where was she during that time?”

“Dunno,” he chuckled, humorless. “But I can probably guess.”

You stole a glance at his face. His eyes were open now, locked on the bubbly water and refusing to meet yours, like he might break all over again if he did. “In the end, I guess I didn't prepare well enough for my finals. Didn’t pass most of them. So I figured, if I was gonna be taking more semesters, anyway…i-if it wasn’t going to be perfect, I might as well start from scratch, y’know? Do it right this time.”

“Oh, Channie,” you rested your hand on his head. “That’s too much. That’s way too much.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t h—”

“No, no,” you didn’t even want to give him the chance to second-guess himself. “Please, don’t hold back. I’m listening.”

He was sugarcoating it, you knew he was. Even now, two years into the aftermath and still suffering the effects of it, he was trying to dismiss it all as something casual.

“What about her? What happened?”

Chan shrugged, reaching up for his ear. You didn’t push him as he fiddled with the silver hoop, instead taking the opportunity to grab your bottle of shampoo and squeeze some of the substance into your palm while he found the will to answer.

“When she found out I wasn’t graduating, she ended it,” he said at last. “Think it was already over, anyway. She was with someone else a few weeks later.���

“Oh my God.”

Through the haze that had been filling his head the entire night, your emotions still reached him with ease. “I brought it on myself, though,” he added quickly, as if the excuse—had it been even remotely correct—would’ve made it any better. “It was all just my own stupid choices. I can’t really say it’s her fault.”

Yes, you can. It took every ounce of self-control to stop yourself from pressing your nails into his head, just to avoid hurting him. You weren’t sure what drove the urge most: sympathy, protectiveness, fury. You couldn’t even begin to fathom it—you didn’t want to fathom it. To be presented with a heart as pure and honest as Chan’s, a love so selfless and sincere, only to trample all over it like it was worthless.

Despite the whirlwind that had spiraled to life inside you, you settled for something softer, a tenderness that, clearly, had been missing from his life thus far. You rubbed the shampoo delicately into his hair, swirling the dark curls around in a way that sent pleasurable ripples down his spine.

“It’s not your fault,” your tone left no room for debate. “Someone took advantage of your kindness. But showing that kindness? How could that possibly be your fault, Channie?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. You wondered if it was the first time he’d been told anything like that—whether by himself, or anyone else.

“I never do things for people to gain anything from it,” Chan began, and you knew, more than anything, that he meant it. “But…”

He hesitated, giving a quick shake of his head, as if to compose himself.

“But it hurts to be used.”

“Yeah. I understand.” You understood more than he could know, more than you could say in that moment. Tears had begun to well up in his eyes again, and for his own sake, you scooped up a portion of water in your hands and began to cleanse his head of the shampoo, letting the streams mask any fresh droplets that may trickle out.

“She never really did anything like this,” he said softly. “Most of the time, she’d just leave.”

Everything clicked into place. All the missing pieces of the puzzle, all at once, with each realization serving as another pang in your chest.

“Chan. I need you to know, right now, that this is what you deserve. All of this, and more.”

Faint sniffles and dripping water echoed throughout the bathroom. In this case, you welcomed it over his usual protests.

“I see everything you do, for me, and everyone else. You never give up on people, even with more than enough reason to,” you ran your hand through his hair, watching the wet ringlets slip through your fingers. “I admire that so much about you, but you still need to think of yourself once in a while. It’s not worth it—it’s never worth it to give your all to someone who will only see the empty husk left behind.”

Vaguely, you saw it, the slow nod of his head. It filled you with hope, the possibility that he might start to see himself the way you saw him, even if just a glimpse. Just a glimpse of him was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

“One day, all that kindness you put out into the world is gonna find you again. I promise.”

He turned his head to look up at you for the first time, eyes gleaming with something other than tears.

“I think it already has.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Neither of you said much as you continued bathing him, a quiet spell—comfortable, once more—passing between you and allowing everything that had been said to settle in your minds. You took your time conditioning Chan’s hair, giving each lush, beautiful curl the proper attention it deserved until you were fully satisfied. By the time you had finished rinsing him off, your legs were aching from sitting in the same, uncomfortable position for so long, and you were certain his were too. You helped him rise from the tub to the best of your ability, taking a moment to admire the streams of water traveling down his body before you passed him a towel.

As you re-entered your bedroom together, you immediately went to shut your window, not keen on creating even the slightest opportunity for Chan to catch another sickness. He was rocking on his heels again, looking seconds away from collapsing into your bed; he likely already would have if it weren’t for the fact that he was clad with nothing but a damp towel.

You dug around for a bit before locating a fresh pair of sweatpants he’d previously left at your place. When you presented them to him, he grinned for the first time that night.

“Been looking for these,” he commented. “They’re my favorite.”

“Well, they’re mine, now,” you teased. “But I can let you borrow them, I guess.”

To your surprise, he brought the garment up to his nose, and it took you a moment to register that he was breathing in the scent of your laundry detergent. It was almost ridiculous, how such a small action made you feel like your heart was going to erupt out of your chest.

The two of you settled into bed once he’d changed, and the exhaustion that had been gradually seeping down into Chan’s bones throughout the entire course of the night—even before that, probably—took over at last. You pulled the covers over your bodies, and he nestled into you before your head had even hit the pillow, his misgivings from your first night together nowhere to be found.

You prayed that he’d be able to sleep soundly tonight. His warmth washed over you, lulling you into dreams of your own. As you opened your mouth to wish him goodnight before your consciousness escaped you, you heard it. A mumble, just audible enough for you not to pass off as your own imagination.

“Think I love you.”

He was so drowsy that he may not have even noticed if you chose not to respond—you weren’t even sure if he noticed that he’d said it in the first place.

You rested your hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“I love you, too.”

Something twisted deep within you as you returned his words. Not because you didn’t mean them, but because you did.

#bang chan x reader #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #skz smut #sub!skz #sub!bang chan #sub!chan #dom!reader #skz x reader #skz angst #skz imagines #bang chan imagines

[angelofthenight]

“Are We About to Kiss?”

(Vance Hopper x Reader)

Part 2 Part 3

(Reader is g/n but has mostly female friends so this can be read as g/n or fem!)

Summary: (Y/n) uses the weapon of flustering to get out of a violent situation with Vance

Warnings: Swearing, Threats, Slight public humiliation, Vance is kinda tsundere

Word Count: 2.5k

~

You walked down the aisles of the Grab N Go with one of your friends by your side. The two of you were going to a sleepover party to celebrate transitioning from freshman to sophomore when school starts again by the end of summer break. The whole place seemed to be pretty busy, considering it was 5pm on a Saturday.

“(Y/n), just pick one already. I don’t want us to be the last people at the party.” Your friend complained over your shoulder as you kept looking between two of your favorite snacks in the aisle. “Dude, relax, it’s cooler to be fashionably late. Plus it’s better to be the last person there rather than the first ‘cause we don’t have to wait for the party to start.” You explained as you finally grabbed one of your options.

Right as you got up from your knees to your feet the door hit the bell alerting everyone that someone had arrived. “Oh my god, look at who just walked in.” Your friend quietly said to you as you felt the air in the room go tense and people go still like if they breathed too loud they’d get attacked. You finally looked over to where everyone was looking to see the infamous Vance Hopper walk over to his beloved pinball machine.

Everyone knew this specific Grab N Go was Vance’s territory yet everyone still seemed to cower away from him. Just like the group of boys, who were always mean and harassed you and others, that were hanging around the game literally scampered away in a fearful sweat.

Vance wasn’t necessarily a bully, more of just an aggressive individual who will attack if provoked. So it was satisfying to see him scare off the ones who purposely brought out people’s misery. It was like seeing a lion among kittens; a jungle cat among house cats.

You went to middle school with him before he was held back twice and he was always very strange around you. He’d consistently sit next to you in the classes you shared and get very defensive if someone took his spot so it was clear he wanted to sit next to you but yet would never talk to you. And everytime you’d talk to him he would be very rude and a little passive aggressive. You still wondered to this day why he always sat next to you. Maybe it was because the seat was closest to the door, maybe it had the best view of the clock, maybe it had the best view of the board, maybe it had the best view of the window. Maybe he liked the scent of the perfume you wore everyday or maybe it was just easiest to cheat off your work. The list was honestly endless.

The Grab N Go slowly returned to its previous atmosphere once Vance got settled into his game. Your friend led the two of you to the line to the cash register to check out your snacks. Your features perked up over remembering something. You touched your friend's shoulder, “I forgot my drink, I’ll be right back.” You said simply before quickly walking over to the very last aisle where the fridges were. The drink you wanted in the size and style you liked was only sold here so you always liked getting it every time you came around.

You quickly rounded the comic rack that was right next to the occupied pinball machine. You glanced over to the boy who you haven’t seen all summer and was completely focused on his game. Your gaze lingered a little longer than you thought since when you turned your head back you had to halt your walking, almost knocking into the short child just standing there staring at the chips across the drinks. You moved around him to pull the clear door open to grab your favorite drink, managing to get the second to last one.

You let the door swing close on its own as you retraced your steps in pursuit of rounding the comic book rack. Your eyes moved back onto Vance’s focused face, that was your first mistake that led to your second mistake: getting distracted. Just when you looked back in front of you another child came running at you from around the comics. You yelped in surprise and threw yourself to the side to avoid letting the kid run right into you as he passed you to reach the other kid.

That was your third and worst mistake. Because when you thrashed yourself out of the way you caused your lower back to smack right into the side of the pinball machine.

Before the sound of loss even came from the game you jumped away from it in utter foreboding fear, eyes blown open in skittish terror. You clutched onto your cold drink, feeling the frozen coldness burn your palm skin to pink. You watched in absolute horror as the tiny metal ball fell through the bottom hole as Vance’s face watched helplessly.

You wondered if you had time to snatch the kid who ran past you and replace yourself from your spot with him, saving yourself while pinning the blame on the one who caused it. You also considered just digging your own grave right there and then. You debated if you should just accept your fate and take the beating like an idiotic champ, get at least a pat on the back for not crying.

Vance began huffing like a bull through his nose and clenched teeth as his fists tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. “Are you fucking-” he turned his furious face to you, eyes that burned with hellfire clapping onto yours, “-kidding me?!”

You were too frozen in fear to speak as you mentally weighed your pathetic options at the last second. You could beg for your life, you could try apologizing, you could try to make a run for it, or start praying to God. You wanted to just drop dead before he could touch you, already knowing you weren’t a fan of hospital food at all.

He lunged toward you like a wildcat and grabbed two fistfulls of your shirt, you dropping your drink in the aggressive process. You hopelessly listened to your drink shatter to glass as Vance wildly pounded your back against the cold fridge door, feeling the frosty fumes chill your exposed skin.

You grasped onto his wrists as you felt the floor suddenly sink away from your feet. Your eyebrows were curving upwards in fear as Vance glared with an enraged snarl. “You fucked with my game you goddamn bitch!” He brought your face closer to growl in close proximity, “I’m gonna crack your fucking skull open, twatty cunt!”

‘Okay, ouch. He didn’t have to add the last part.’ Your mind managed to say through the hot, buzzing feeling that was spiking through your senses. It was strange to have this much of Vance’s attention on you since for all the years you’ve sat next to each other your faces never really faced each other directly for a long amount of time, only fleeting glances and looking over right when the other looked away.

You wondered if you cried, you could make Vance feel bad a little and let you off with a threatening warning. Maybe you could say something like “Hey remember me? You always sat next to me in our classes? Haha, aren’t we good bro?” Your brain was in survival mode and racked for ideas in three seconds until you landed on one. Deescalate the situation by making it unbearingly awkward.

“Are we about to kiss right now?” You asked, putting on a wondering look.

There was a pin drop of silence after your statement, even Vance’s carnivorous expression dropping like a dime and being replaced with a sense of confused shock. He almost looked cutely innocent with that soft look in his eyes from being caught off guard. His lips were parted with a loss of words and his cheeks unmistakably faded into a dusted shade of pastel red. Whether from anger or flusteredness was unclear to you but you hoped it was weakening enough for him to let you go out of awkwardness or second hand embarrassment.

Vance’s eyes darted around your surroundings, looking at anything but you, appearing to not know how to react. You kept your face calm and serious to hopefully make the situation more uncomfortable for him. He bared his clenched teeth as he sounded like he struggled to say anything. He dropped your shirt, letting your feet touch the ground and your body slouch against the wall, and backed away from you with his hands up like if he touched you any longer he would catch something.

“What is wrong with you!?” Vance shouted with his face still flushed which made him look slightly less intimidating. “Of course we weren’t gonna fucking-” He stumbled on his words a bit as he couldn’t seem to even get the word out. “J-Just get out of my sight!” He yelled down at you and then added for extra measure, “Stupid cunt!”

You scattered up to your feet and sped walked away, briefly looking down at your shattered drink with a look of disappointment, and out the Grab N Go doors. All eyes were on your form as you ran off. You slumped your back against the outdoor wall as you caught the breath you didn’t realize you lost. It was only a minute until your friend came out with the snacks in her arms and ran over to you. “Holy shit, dude! I totally thought you were done for! Like, I literally thought he was going to crack open your head!” She exclaimed with a horrified expression.

You grabbed her free hand and placed it right on your heartbeat. “Feel how fast my heart is beating. My whole life flashed before my eyes… I sleep a lot.” You said with a humorous tone and relieved smile. “I still can’t believe you said that! And he was so stunned he actually let you go! Good to know your weirdness scared off the fucking apex predator of Denver. You tamed the beast!” She said as she hooked her arm around yours to start walking towards her car. “His friend teased Vance about it and he kept being like ‘sh-shut up!’ all flustered with the pinkest cheeks!” She laughed loudly.

You smiled small in amusement as you looked over your shoulder to the glass window that captured Vance still by his pinball machine. Once you looked over you caught him looking at you too but quickly whipped his head away as if he wasn’t.

~

The sound of the doorbell silenced the laughter filled conversation with you and everyone else at the sleepover party. You stood up from your spot on the carpeted ground saying, “I think that’s the pizza, I’ll go get it.” You jumped over your friends’ laid down bodies and pillows to reach the coffee table where everyone put in an equal amount of cash to pay for the pizza. You ran up the basement steps while tucking the money in a neat stack.

You reached the front door to unlock it before swinging it open… only to be faced with Vance Hopper. You swore you almost pissed yourself, fearing that he had made up his mind and wanted to finish you off after that little stunt of yours.

“Hey.” Vance said with his arms crossed tightly. Your brows pinched together in sudden puzzlement. “Did you follow me here?” He glared and barked in defense, “Don’t flatter yourself! One of my friends knows your friend's older sister.” You slowly nodded, still wanting to know how that conversation exactly went and how it led to you.

You placed the money on the table beside the door then leaned against the doorframe, folding your hands together. “So why are you here?” You asked. Vance dropped one of his arms to reach into his back pocket, pulling out your favorite drink from the Grab N Go. The last one. He handed it over to your delighted self. “You dropped your other one like a clutz.” He said simply before tucking his arms back away.

You smiled in surprise down at the drink in your hands and flashed a brighter smile back up at him. “Thanks a lot.” He turned his head to the side, “It’s whatever.” You were about to apologize for bumping into his game but he started talking before you could. His head faced you again and he leaned a little closer to you with a glare and his arms still tightly crossed. “Just so you know, we were not gonna kiss back there. I was getting ready to kick your ass and you just… caught me off guard. So if you thought it was because I like you, then you’re fucking wrong. Because I don’t.” He said with defensive aggression over something you didn’t even suspect.

Your eyebrows were slightly raised over how worked up he got about that theory no one even said aloud. He turned on his heels to walk down the steps but turned back around at the middle step, pointing a finger at the drink in your hand. “And I didn’t get you that because I like you! Okay!?” His voice got a little quieter, “It’s because you’ve always been cool and you were just stupid just this once.” You guessed that was his own weird way of forgiving you.

You watched him finish walking down the steps before you said to him, “Hey Vance, one more thing!” He turned to you with a waiting look. You smiled softly. “I miss sitting next to you in class. I hope you get to pass this year.” You said, hoping this makes things cool between you two and maybe even become friends.

Vance’s cheeks turned rosy as he casted his eyes back down. “Me too.” He said in a quieter tone than how he had been talking, letting you wonder which statement he answered with that. He looked back up and pointed another finger at you with furrowed brows. “And if anyone says that I like you just know they’re wrong and stupid! Okay!?” He added randomly but his warm cheeks kind of ruined it.

You smiled in amusement. “Okay.” He turned back around and started walking back to his friend's parked car in the street. “Bye Vance!” You called out. “Cunt!” He yelled back, returning to his more defensive tone.

Your group of friends all suddenly crowded around behind you, watching over your shoulder Vance and his friend drive off. “What was that about?” One of your friends asked with a mixture of confusion and protectiveness.

“You know, I think he admitted he likes me… in his own weird way.” You said with an amused her confused head tilt over what just happened.

#the black phone imagine #the black phone x reader #the black phone #vance hopper imagine #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper

[boldlyvoid]

The Whore of Babylon

18+ | Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Kevin x reader

Summary: Eddie's friends are Virgins, and His Girlfriend has a Virginity kink

Warnings: lowkey cuck Eddie, sexualization of the reader, teasing, Virgin kink, panty sniffing (mentions of past panty stealing), Eddie teaches the boys how to pleasure a woman, Oral sex (f receiving from all 4), hand jobs, Vaginal sex, condom use, bi Eddie, Bi Jeff, Questioning Gareth (he kisses Eddie in this), spit, multiple orgasms (6), praise and degradation, cum play, Master kink... i really hope i got it all but this one is really dirty

word count: 7.1k

All her boys came over after a long-awaited game of hellfire. Being separated at different colleges and jobs made it hard to play once a week, it became more like once a month now. They used this time together to party, have a few beers, joints and way too much pizza.

Like clockwork, she moves the empty pizza boxes to the kitchen and wanders back into the main room of the trailer she shared with Eddie. She sits in his lap as the party starts to come to a close, whispering something in his ear as his hands trail up her bare legs and under her skirt. 

This was usually the boy's queue to get going. 

“Seriously?” Gareth complains for the group as they all groan, “we’re having fun, do we really have to leave just so you two can fuck all night instead?” 

“Awe, are the virgins jealous?” She teases Gareth, Jeff and Kev with a pout. 

“No…” he’s defensive but his cheeks and neck heat up a cute shade of pink which lets her know he’s lying. 

She looks at Eddie, carefully, talking to him with her eyes, “you really want to?” Eddie knows exactly what she means, and she nods. “okay… should you tell them or should I?” 

“Tell uth what?” Jeff asks, his adorable lisp making her smile. 

She loved all of them, they were all her best friends before they introduced her to Eddie. Being in the same grade, she grew up with these 3 boys, they were her best friends, she knew more about them than anyone else, they were her boys. 

It wasn’t her fault that she fell for Eddie, and none of them held it against her… It was just really hard for them to know that she was getting railed by the dungeon master most nights while they were all virgins, and slightly pining for her. She knew they were, she always did, but the feelings weren’t fully reciprocated. She loved them, she thought they were all handsome and sweet in their own ways, but Eddie was the love of her life. 

She thought they’d get girlfriends, or boyfriends even, at some point… but the older they got, the longer they waited and it was getting embarrassing at this point. They all talked about how hard it was being a virgin in their 20s while Eddie always made being a sex god look so easy. 

Time and time again, Eddie told them they just needed to break the seal. They just needed to let loose and sleep with someone, then it wouldn’t be as scary… then maybe they’d find something more. Since meeting Y/N, he was always insisting that making love was better than random hookups, making the boys jealous even further. 

“Well,” she looks at Eddie and then back to the boys, focusing mostly on Gareth as he had it the worst for her. “What if you let me take your virginities?” 

They’re silent. For the first time ever, none of the boys have any words. 

“I think I broke them,” she whispers to Eddie, making him laugh. 

“She’s not kidding,” Eddie adds, “she’s talked about this for the last 2 years… we just didn’t think it would ever come to this.” 

“I thought there would be no way we’d all hit 21 and I’d still be the only one of us having sex,” she tries to cover up the truth he just spilled. 

“and…” he wants her to tell them. “Go on, share with them how much of a dirty whore you can be.” 

She shifts in his lap, anxiously fighting the heat in her stomach as it grows and feeling just how hard he was under her. He was thinking about all his friends taking turns with his girl, how hot it would be to see them try to ruin her but all she wants is for him to show them how it’s done…

“I have this dream,” she starts softly, avoiding the boy's eye contact as they all gather around her, sitting on the floor in front of Eddies lazy boy, looking up at her in awe, it felt like storytime. Gareth on her right, Jeff on her left, and Kevin smack dab in the middle. He didn’t know it yet, but he had the best seat in the house.

“Go on,” Eddie encourages her even more. 

“I really like the thought of taking someone's virginity, and so seeing as Eddie was already deflowered when I got him i didn’t get to really experience it… but there’s something so satisfying about watching a man lose it all for you, being the first person he slips into… ruining him for everyone else—

“She’s good at that part,” he warns them. 

She shrugs, proud of herself. “I really love Eddie, you guys need to know that, this is just a kink for me and if you don’t want to ruin the friendship, I get it. But the offer stands, for any or all of you.” 

“Yes!” Gareth is the first to offer, sitting on his knees and moving in closer. “Please?” 

She giggles, “what about you two?” 

Jeff nods, unable to find any words to say and Kevin mumbles, “uh-ye—mhmm.” 

“Good,” she smirks and sits on Eddie, reverse cowgirl, back to his chest and legs spread. “Now, time for the ground rules, boys.” 

They all nod, moving in even closer to her, all sprouting cute little bulges in their jeans and silently fighting their way to be first in line to fuck her. 

She puts out her hand and Eddie fishes a box of condoms out from the side pocket of his chair, placing them in her palm. “First things first, you’re all wearing raincoats. I only plan on making you god-fathers in the future. Distant, future at that.” 

It makes them all laugh, which makes her feel a little more at ease. The last thing she wanted was to completely ruin their friendships. 

“Second, no kissing on the mouth,” she looks right at Kevin, more than once he’s gotten drunk and tried to kiss her, always ashamed after but she never held it against him. He was a flirty, cuddly drunk, hes also tried to kiss Jeff. 

“No affectionate pet names either, you are not allowed to get attached to me, this is a dirty one off and then I expect you to take what you’ve learned and apply it out there in the real world,” she explained carefully. “Got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gareth answers and the other two nod, following his lead as always. 

With her legs spread already, she leans back against eddies chest and lets him lift her skirt up, showing off his girl like he just popped the hood on a Ferrari. 

“Third rule,” Eddie speaks this time, voice deep and low, something only she’s really heard. His hand ghosts over her panties, “if she says stop, you stop. I doubt you three will last long enough to get crazy with her, but it has to be said.” 

“Obviously, man,” Jeff understands, reaching out to place his hand on her ankle and feel up her soft skin. 

“We’re going to treat her like treasure,” Kevin adds, staring right at the wet patch forming in her pink panties. “Long awaited, ever so rewarding, treasure.” 

Eddie groans in her ear, nibbling at the lobe gently. His free hand snakes up her chest and palms at her breast, while the other works tiny circles over her clothed clit,  “should I give them a run down on what you like?” 

She nods, melted into his touch, “teach ‘em how it’s done.” 

“Lift,” he instructs and she moves her feet to rest on the seat, beside his knees as she lifts her hips up, giving him the opportunity to push her panties to her knees before she sat down on his lap again. “Boys, would you mind?” 

They rush to help them come off the rest of the way and then fight for who gets to hold them, “hey,” Eddie calls their attention back to her. 

“Gareth,” she delegates, “you can have them."

He takes them from Kevin and holds them to his face, breathing in her scent while his other hand palmed over his jeans, he groaned, “sweet Jesus.” 

“He’s the only one who hasn’t stolen a pair yet,” she teases.

The other two look embarrassed immediately. “How?” 

“I know what I leave here,” she smirks. “So when I come back and my panties aren’t in his drawer anymore, but you were in his room last, then I know. But I don’t mind.” 

Eddies ring-covered hand has been cupped around her cunt the whole time, not letting them get a look at the goods while they acted like this. “You guys ready to learn or what?” 

They straighten back up, desperate for the show to begin. 

With two fingers he spreads her pussy lips apart, “this my friends, is a pussy of epic proportions. Juicy, delicious, she can take a beating and always comes back wanting more… for me, at least.” 

It was only slightly embarrassing, but the way the boys drooled over her made her feel better than ever. It was so fucking nice to be desired like this. She felt like a centrefold in playboy and it was actually really, really nice. 

Eddie kisses her cheek gently as she leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder. “Who did you want to go first?” He whispers. 

“Gareth,” she all but moans his name. 

“You heard her, scoot,” he instructs the boys out of the way so that Gareth can sit right in front of her. He crawls over on his knees, resting his hands on her knees and soothing them down her thighs.

“Gare-bear, can you show the class where the clit is, please?” Eddie asks, using his nickname as a way to remind him who was in charge. 

He looks puzzled, causing Eddie to suck his teeth, “how do you plan on pleasing a woman if you don’t know what that is?” 

“I—

“Save it,” Eddie pushes him back and stands up with Y/N in his arms. He slams her down on the chair and gets on his knees with the other boys. 

“Strip,” he instructs her and she misses no time ripping off her tank top, pushing her skirt to the floor and flinging her bra halfway across the room before she sat back down on the lazy boy and spread her legs for him. 

The boys all groan, it’s a symphony of pleasure that she’s been secretly dying to hear since they all hit puberty. 

Eddie spreads her pussy open once more and places his index finger right on her clit, “this right here, this is the clit. She’s sometimes hidden under the hood, kinda like foreskin, but she’s 10 times more sensitive than the head of your cock and she’ll never disappoint you if you pay attention to her.” 

Y/N can’t help but moans as he applies more pressure and mores his finger around in circles. He dips down to her whole, gathering up her wetness with the pads of his forefingers and rubbing it into her clit. It feels so good, being touched and being watched, she can’t help her back as it arches or the sounds that leave her whorish little mouth. 

“Holy shit,” Gareth can barely breathe. “That’s it?” 

“No,” Eddie smirks at him first and then moves in closer to Y/N. “It helps the most, but that’s not all you need.” His lips collide with her inner thigh as he kisses towards her centre. “It’s about attention to detail, you can’t just go from 0 to 4th gear and expect to win the race, you need to rev her up a bit, work the gears and then fuck her into overdrive.” 

“Please,��� she begs, gripping the armrest of the chair like her life depended on it, feeling emptier than ever before. 

“See,” Eddie chuckles against her skin, kissing her underwear line, edging impossibly close to eating her out when he knew he was supposed to let Gareth go first. 

He can’t help himself, he takes one long lick, spreading his whole tongue along her cunt, he was addicted to her taste. He moans against her, tongue deep inside while the tip of his nose budged at her clit. She gripped his hair, moaning at how good it was but she pulled him away anyway, “baby, come on.” 

“Sorry,” he looked up at he with lust-blown eyes, face already covered in her. “I had to get the first lick, but at least you know what to do now, Gare.” 

Gareth couldn’t believe he was next, he let Eddie move out of the way and then got impossibly close to her. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her right to the edge, “ready?” 

She nods, not expecting him to go in just as hard as Eddie, but if she knew anything about Gareth, he was competitive. Especially as Eddie’s back-up singer. He was a quick learner, she’ll give him that, because the second his mouth is on her, he’s sucking on her clit like his life depends on it. 

She runs her fingers through his short, curly hair, it’s so soft and she’s not used to something this short to hold onto, but she likes it. She grinds her hips along with his movements, letting him know just how good he feels on her. “I’m— I’m so, fuck, close already…” 

Gareth peaks up at her, dragging his tongue over her in a serpentine motion, never breaking eye contact. She cups his face, holding him closer as his tongue flicks back and forth over her clit and then he stops, “can I finger you?” 

She nods, “fuck yeah, you can, Mr. Drummer.” 

He smirks and then slips his two middle fingers into his own mouth, he swirls his tongue around them in preparation. When they’re wet enough, he teases her hole with a smirk, shaking his head at how fucking insane this felt and overjoyed to finally be there. He’s gentile at first, watching his fingers go in and out of her slowly as he soaked it all in. It was really happening. 

“Curl them,” Eddie gives him a tip from the sideline, “feel that spongey texture? Thats her g-spot, so when you hit that and her clit at the same time, it’ll make her tremble.” 

He listens well, curing his fingers and returning his tongue to her clit. He pumps into her with quick, short thrusts, making an absolute mess as she finally came on his fingers with a shout. 

Eddie clapped, “‘atta boy!! See fellas, that’s how it’s done.”

Gareth pulls out with a grin, “that was so fucking cool,” he muses before shoving his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean.  

She runs her fingers through his sweaty hair again, smiling at him as she sits up, “oh, my god, dude. The ladies are going to love you.” 

“You think?” His eyes gleam with pride. 

“Absolutely,” she ruffles his hair and then pats his cheek, “but it’s Jeff's turn now…” 

“Really?” He perks up, looking at her with big eyes, “for…” 

“I don’t plan on sending you boys out into the world without a lesson,” she calls him over with a wink. “Come get a taste.” 

“Let me just,” he turns away, putting his fingers in his mouth and popping out his retainer. He places the slobbery thing on the coffee table and then makes his way over. “Can I take my shirt off?” 

She nods, “of course, you guys can do whatever, get comfortable.” 

He pulls his shirt off so quickly and moves in closer to her. He’s ripped, buffer than she remembered with the sexiest dusting of chest hair. He takes a softer approach, he kisses her thighs and caresses her skin with his cheek, possibly making up for his rough, calloused fingers. 

He was so gentile, even with his tongue. He listened to Eddie's words from before, paying attention to her clit while his pointer finger swirled around the cum gathering at her hole, using it as lube when he eventually pushed the digit inside of her. He curls it slightly, rubbing the interesting texture with curiosity, making her thighs twitch. 

“Christ,” she wants to toss her head back more, arch her back higher, but she’s trapped in the uncomfortable, brown suede recliner she’s been fucked in too many times already. 

“Hold on a sec? I just wanna lie down,” she explains as she pets Jeffs cheek, assuring him it’s not an issue with him. “I’m uncomfortable up here.” 

He nods and helps her to the carpet, not noticing Eddie had run out to his bedroom to get some pillows and blankets, “here, put them under her for leverage.” 

The boys listened well, they moved the table out of the way and laid down the blanket first and then got her all comfortable. They wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly. 

Jeff crawled back between her legs, and Kev sat awkwardly beside her, watching and feeling only a slight bit left out. As soon as Jeff began to continue, she reached over for Kevin to hold his and bring it to her boob, “you can play with them…” 

“Yeah?” He gets down lover, laying on his side so he can palm one boob and kiss the other. With a small boost in confidence, he takes her nipple in his mouth and moans around her. She knew he’d love that. 

His hair was sweaty from simply watching, but that didn’t stop her from petting his curls. She simply loved touching. She was always so touch starved, she’s cuddled with all of them more than once, she’s had sleepovers with them and hugged them randomly just for closeness… this was so, so much better. 

Gareth is watching it all with a hand on his cock, still shaking his head at how fucking insane this all is, but not wanting to change a single thing. All he wondered was if he was going to be the first to slip inside of her or not, he didn’t want to get too carried away in his thoughts, but his hand felt so good as he watched on. 

Eddie reached out and placed his hand on Gareth’s shoulder, making him jump slightly. “Man, I can’t believe you got her…” 

Eddie smirks, “I know, right?” 

She’s completely lost in the moment, not listening in the slightest as she cums a second time for Jeff and Kevin basically pushes him away so he can have his turn. But when Jeff kneels beside her, she reaches for his belt and starts to unbuckle it. They get him out of his pants and boxers and suddenly it’s only the two of them who are naked. 

She strokes his hard cock, he’s slimmer than Eddie but definitely longer. It was so impressive. Cut, tip glistening and balls full. Even Eddie’s jaw dropped when he saw it. “dude…” 

“What?” 

Gareth’s eyes are wide, Kev looks up at him, face covered in pussy juice already. “Holy shit, man?” 

“What?!” He gets self-conscious. 

“They’re jealous,” she smirks up at him. “I know Eddie is cause he isn’t cut…” 

“Oh,” Jeff thinks nothing of it. 

“But size doesn’t matter,” she reaffirms. “If you know what you’re doing anything can work.” 

“Anything?” Kev wonders, innocently. 

She nods, “wanna show me what you’ve got?” 

He sits up on his knees and starts to unbutton his jeans quickly, he was chubby and soft, hairy tummy leading down his happy trail to a decent sized, girthy, cock standing tall around his untamed pubic hair. 

“Babe, where are the condoms?” She asks Eddie, “Kev can go first, give him one.” 

“Fuck,” Gareth mumbles under his breath, looking disappointed. 

She peers past Kev to look at him, “you got to make me cum already, give him a chance. My clit is so sensitive right now, I need something more… but you come here,” she points to her other side, jerking Jeff off still on the other side again. 

Kevin gets gloved up and lines up with her, feeling up her thighs nervously, she looks up at him with kind eyes, “ready, Kev?”  

He nods, “I’m sorry in advance if I’m not good…” 

“Take your time, enjoy it, I will too,” she assures him with a smile that grows dark. “Come on, big boy, fuck me.” 

When he slips in slowly with a groan, “oh my god…” 

Eddie smirks, “one down.” 

“Fuck,” she whimpers as he bottoms out, the stretch was nice and feeling him against her, between her legs, was just as wonderful. 

Laying on her back, completely, she turns to Gareth with a smile, he was watching her boobs giggle as Kev began to thrust. “Take these off,” she taps on Gareth’s jean-clad thigh. 

He gets out of his jeans as quickly as possible, tossing his shirt away while he’s at it. 

She tries to watch, but paying attention was hard when Kev’s thrusts started to pick up, “Oh, I knew you’d be cute…” she compliments him as her back arches, she moans, gripping her breast again, “shit…” 

“What?” He blushes. 

Jeff laughs, stroking his own cock now as she put her attention on Gareth. “She thinks you’re tiny,” he attempts to tease him. 

“No,” she smacks Jeff’s thigh and moans again. “Shit, Kev, right there…” 

They all turn their attention to Kevin, not expecting him to do as well as he was. He was the Bass player after all, always the forgotten one. But he fucked her with a passion, he had rhythm and power and he knew what he was doing. “more… more, please?” 

Gareth reaches a hand out to rub her clit, helping Kev along as he focuses on keeping his cool. He bit his lip, eyes closed as he kept going, he wanted her to cum first and then he’d let himself go, like a true gentleman. “Oh, fuck,” she reaches out for Jeff’s hand and pulls him closer, shoving his face into her tits as a silent instruction to suck. 

He was good with his mouth, covering her breasts in hickies as she chased her next orgasm. She honestly had no clue what number she was on at this point, and she didn’t care as she felt Kevin stutter and still inside of her as he filled the condom with a grunt. His grip on her knees tightened, “fuuuck….” 

She giggled, proud of her buddy. The other two get antsy, they silently fight with each other with pointed looks back and forth, both wanting to be next. “Boys…” Eddie finally speaks up, “let Kevin pull out before you kill each other.” 

She laughs again, “Jeff, do you mind if Gareth goes next?”

He shakes his head, “I guess not…” 

“I’m just saving the best for last,” she runs her hand over his thigh gently with a wink. 

Kevin pulled out, laughing to himself at how fucking wild it was that he just fucked his best friend, no longer a virgin. She sits up between them, accepting a glass of water from Eddie and taking a few sips as the boys exchange places. Kev sits beside her again, only in his boxers now. He pulls her into a quick side hug and kisses her sweaty forehead. “Thank you.” 

She laughs, “you’re welcome, buddy.” 

Gareth rolled a condom on with haste, waiting not so patiently for her to finish her water and pick a new position, “this is fucking wild… like, am I dreaming?” 

Eddie laughs again, “it’s about fucking time this happened. She’s wanted to fuck you for so long.” 

“Shut up,” she glares at him. 

“Even before I knew about her virginity kink, she has a soft spot for you, Gare-Bear,” Eddie can’t help himself, it was fun for him to rub it in that he won her in the end. 

“You’re lying,” Gareth doesn’t believe it anyway. “You had years to fuck me before we even introduced you to him?” He points at Eddie. 

“I think you’re cute, okay? And I know you’ll make a girl very happy one day… that being said, you wanna fuck me or not?” She wasn’t interested in explaining her long-gone childhood crush right now. 

She handed the glass to Eddie, “be nice, please…” 

He snarled at her but then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, breathing her in and kissing her with a passion, marking his territory for all the boys to remember. 

She pushes him back with a smile, “you’ll get your turn.” 

“And then forever?” 

She nods, “now let me get back to it.” 

“Okay,” he puts his free hand up in defence as he backed away, “have fun…” 

She sits in Gareth’s lap, hovering over his cock with her hands resting on his shoulders. “Figured you’d like this view better…” 

She gets to watch his face, up close and personal, as he slips inside of her for the first time. She gets to watch his pupils dilate, his breath hitch and his body quiver. “Oh my god…” 

She kisses his cheek and down his neck as she started to ride him. As she picked up the pace, Gareth struggled to keep his eyes open, swallowed up by the pleasure of her fucking herself on his cock. His hands rested on her hips and slowly migrated to her ass, he squeezed her cheeks firmly and then slapped her ass, hard, making her yelp. 

“I can’t believe you held out on me all these years,” he groans, tossing his head back to get his hair out of his eyes, “if I knew you were such a dirty whore deep down I would’ve offered to fuck you years ago…” 

“No, you wouldn’t have,” she teases, knowing if she pushed him hard enough he would snap, just like Eddie. “I was waiting to be corrupted, I think we both were…” 

He holds her still, not letting her move and so she whines, wanting more of him. “You’re right,” he stares at her lips, “you have corrupted me.” 

She smirks, “now show me what you’ve learned.” 

He sits up on his knees, holding her lover back with both hands so he stayed inside of her, “pillows, now,” he makes Jeff hand them both over, he stacks them for Gareth and then he rests her lower back on them. When he starts thrusting again, he smiles while watching her tits jiggle, “good god… oh, fuck, I’m never going to be the same.” 

“Good, huh?” Eddie whispers in his ear, making Gareth's eyes flutter, turned on more than ever before. “Nothing is quite as good as her tight little pussy and her perfect tits, look at how she’s laid out for you, buddy…”

Gareth groans, “fuck, I wish I could kiss her,” he lets his true feelings out. “Not doing anything with my mouth is fuckin weird… shit,” he’s having the time of his life fucking her into the blanket-covered carpet, “and I’m talking too much, right?”

Eddie smirks, “she said you can’t kiss her, but nothing about me…” he places a kiss on Gareth’s bare shoulder and along his neck as he moaned. “I always thought you’d be soft…” 

Jeff and Kevin look at each other in shock and awe, they knew Eddie was bi, and so is Jeff… but Gareth has never said a word about the subject. He was pining so hard for Y/N and competing toe-to-toe with Eddie for so long, he must’ve built up some attraction to him, too. 

The sight of her boyfriend making out with her best friend as said friend fucks her is a scene, unlike anything her wildest dreams could conjure up. She grips her breasts and grinds back against his cock, moaning with each thrust when Eddie’s hand comes down to rub her clit. 

Gareth swats his hand out of the way and bites his lip quickly, letting it go when Eddie yelped, “right now, she’s mine.” 

Eddie goes to fight back but Y/N’s guttural moan granted her all of his attention, “fuck, Gare… please, please?” 

He rubs her clit and fucks her faster, hunching over her he balances with one hand on the ground beside her hip, giving him the perfect leverage to suck on her tits at the same time. And she was in heaven. Her hands came up to scratch his back, digging in deep as Gareth pounded her into the carpet and made her scream. 

Her back arches even further as she cums, her nails dig so deep into him he yelps, but it feels so good mixed with how tight she got around his cock just then. “Fuck,” he groans, “take it, take it! Fuck, that’s it, oh man, cum on my cock like a—fuck, like a good little whore…” he’s shaking as he tries to hold off, fucking her through her orgasm before he even dares reach his own. 

He drops against her chest and ruts into her faster, he buries his face into her neck and covers her in kisses and praise, “oh, fuck, thank you. Thank you,” he kisses both her cheeks and her forehead. “I can’t fucking believe that just happened.” 

She cups his face and giggles as she looks up at him, all fucked out with rosy cheeks down to his chest and sweaty hair, “believe it or not, but you’re still inside of me.” 

“Oh, oh, sorry,” he sits up on his knees and goes to pull out slowly with a shutter. “Sweet christ almighty…” 

Eddie giggles as he watches, “she gets real creamy around 4 orgasms.” 

Jeff was practically on the verge of exploding he was so hard, that the head of his cock was dripping as he ignored it. 

She sits back up as soon as she’s calmed down enough to move again, “holy shit…” 

Gareth is a blushing mess, unable to even look at her but she pulls him into a hug and kisses his cheek. “You did wonderfully.” 

He kisses the top of her head, resting his cheek against her hair with a smile, “that was awesome.” 

She laughs and turns to the last virgin in the room, “it was… but, Jeffery, you’re up.” 

He anxiously nods, taking a condom from Eddie and rolling it over his own length. “H-how d’you—

“What would you like?” She cuts him off, crawling over to him with a sweet smile, “just, go easy on me?” 

He nods, feverishly, “yeah, yeah, um…” he takes a second to think, “missionary is good, I guess?” 

She laughs and pulls him in for a hug, resting her weight on his shoulder with her arms wrapped around his buff shoulders, “thank god… I’m so fucked out I don’t think I could ride you if you paid me.” 

“Do you want more water?” Jeff worries as he rubs her back, “or a snack? I think you still have those two-bite brownies left… you know the good ones from KFC? I saw them in the fridge earlier.” 

It makes her giggle, “I’m okay, very, very okay,” she pulls away from him with a smirk, “Eddie’s record with me in one night is 9 currently, this is nothing.” 

He awkwardly laughs, “nine? Seriously?” The other boys laugh, too, watching on as Jeff gets the most affection from her.

She nods, very proud, “wanna bring me to number 5 now?” 

He nods, “are you ready?” 

“Absolutely,” she gives him all the consent in the world with that and her beautiful smile. 

He lays her back gently, spreading her legs and getting between them, finally. He takes a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath, hoping this memory lasted a very long time after it inevitably ended. 

He slips in slowly, going inch by inch and letting her adjust, but also fascinated with the view of her taking his length. He angles her hips up, stealing the pillows back and shoving them under her, “how are you still so fucking tight?” 

Eddie’s dark chuckle makes her head turn to him, she almost forgot he was there, so blissed out from being passed around their friends all night. “Isn’t she fucking fantastic.” 

He’s been slowly stripping himself from his clothes with each round, leaving him in just his checkered, red, boxers. He palmed himself gently every so often, hearing her cum so much and having nothing to do with it made his cock twitch, but nothing got him off quite like being alone with her. 

Jeff starts to pick up the pace, thrusting into her again and again as she laid there and took it with pride. Arms laid flat on the carpet, Jeff held her hips and manhandled her on and off his cock like she was nothing, it was quite the sight to see. All the boys were quite amazed. 

Eddie crawls over and reaches for her hand, holding it gently and caressing her with his thumb. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world, being treated like a queen by her 4 favourite boys while simultaneously quadrupling her body count. 

Jeff reaches out his hand, “spit,” he instructs Eddie and he does just that. Spitting in his hand so he can bring it to Y/N’s swollen clit for some added glide. His once gentle demeanour now gone, lust overtook him. He was getting carried away, “are you close?” 

She whined, “ye-yeah.” 

Eddie brushes some sweaty hairs off her face, watching her eyes roll back as yet another orgasm built in her stomach and exploded through her veins in glorious waves of euphoria. 

“Jeff, oh my god,” she reaches out for him, running her fingers over his abs each time he thrusts back in. “Please, please?” 

“Let go, princess,” Eddie encourages her. “Show him how much tighter you get when you cum.” 

“Show me,” his grip tightens and his rhythm changes. The desperation in his voice is what sends her over the edge more than anything. 

She gives him what he was searching for, she cums with a gasp as he stills inside of her, deeper than ever, she can feel him fill the condom. He grunts, “holy fucking shit.” 

She wants to moan but she’s lost her voice, cumming so hard her eyes water while her body spasms. “Holy…” he wipes his brow with a sigh, “fuck.” 

He pulls out and helps her into a sitting position, carrying on the tradition of kissing her forehead before passing her on to the next one.

Only this time, it was Thee One. 

“Eddie,” she reaches out for him, crawling away from Jeff and right into eddies lap. 

“Hi, my baby,” he pets her face gently, “how’re you feeling?” 

She takes a deep breath and smiled at him, her body felt like an overcooked spaghetti noodle so she clung to him like her life depended on it, “I’m really good now… how are my boys?” 

“Amazing,” Kevin answers, barely still awake as he watches from the couch, all cuddled up with a blanket. 

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic,” Gareth adds, rolling a joint, sitting in the corner in his boxers. 

“What they said,” Jeff, points, cleaning himself up and looking for his clothes in the mess they’ve all left behind. 

“Good,” she rests her chin against Eddie’s shoulder with a sigh. “You guys staying here tonight?” 

They all hum in agreement, “cool,” she gives them a weak thumbs up and wraps herself back around Eddie, “take me to bed, lover.” 

“Yes, princess,” he smacks her asscheek lightly, standing up with her and then picking her up bridal style. “Lock the door and turn out the lights, fellas.” 

He brings her back to his room and lays her down on his bed gently. Immediately he places his hands on her cheeks, “be honest, bedtime or my turn?” 

She giggles as she sits up a bit, holding his face in her hands, too. “It’s time to show them who I really belong to.” 

He growls as he leans in for a kiss, biting her bottom lip instead and holding it between his teeth until he pulls away, “do you really belong to me, though?” 

She doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but she’s excited nonetheless. She just nods, getting lost in the darkness of his eyes. 

“That little show in there proved otherwise… you reminded me of someone, actually. You’re no longer a princess, you’re a queen.”

“What kind of queen does the things I just did?” She wonders, still having no idea where he was going with this. 

“Semiramis, The Whore of Babylon… ” he shrugs, slightly embarrassed whenever he goes full nerd in the bedroom. “Although, she is Nimrod's wife, so I guess that makes me,” he points at himself with a look of confusion, simply trying to make her laugh some more. 

She knew this trick. The more she laughed, the more it proved she was truly ready, willing and up for another round, the last thing he wanted was for her to say yes and not truly mean it. 

“My Nimrod,” she caresses his cheek, pushing his hair back and behind his ear, “I told you it’s an affectionate nickname.” 

He smiles, shaking his head, “it’s a good thing I love you.” 

“If you didn’t, I have 3 other suitors,” she teases him. “And they’re waiting for one last show.” 

“Is that so,” he gets up, playful as ever, and makes his way towards the door. “I see how it is…” 

“Where are you going?” She calls after him, but he doesn’t answer. “Don’t make me fuck Gareth again!” 

“I’m coming!” He shouts but all she can hear is the sound of him rushing around, “Gareth, sit down!” “I am?” Followed by laughter. But he comes back, with pillows tucked under his arm, the condom box gripped between his teeth and her glass of water in the other hand. 

He hands her the water, tosses the pillows on the bed, takes a condom from the box and slams his door shut. “I’m ready when you are,” he says as he rolls on the condom. 

She takes one big gulp of water and sets the glass down on the night table. She sits back down on the mattress with a bounce, “ready.” 

“Up,” he gets her onto her knees and then spins his finger, making her turn around. He gets on the bed behind her, chest flush against her back, he wraps one hand around her chest to steady her and uses the other to slip inside. She sits down on his cock with a gasp, this was her favourite position with him. 

She could toss her head back against his shoulder, to the side, while he pressed kisses to her skin and whispered dirty things in her ear. He could feel up her breasts and rub her clit all while fucking her from behind. Dirty enough to make god frown, but good enough to contemplate going to hell for a lifetime of sex with him. 

“You looked so hot out there,” his words are hot against her ear, his bottom lip trails along the lobe. “What a charitable queen letting the lowly townsmen fuck you…” 

“Look at me now,” she breaths out, trying to stay composed but too fucked out to care at the same time. “I’m— fuck, I’m fucking the banished one now.” 

“And why am I banished?” He grips her hair tighter, pulling her head to the side and making her look at him. 

“Fuck,” she moans, grinding with his movements, she places her hand over his, trying to make him play with her clit more. “cause—oh sweet christ! Cause you fuck so good!” 

“Thats right,” he pushes her down against the mattress, ass up, he slaps and grabs at her cheeks while fucking into her with more force. “Let them know how good.” 

With each short, hard thrust, she gets louder and louder, shouting obscenities and nonsense, “louder baby, or you don’t get to cum.” 

She always listens, putting on the best show for the rest of them, wondering in the back of her mind if they’ve taken it upon themselves to get off to the noise, or if they were too drained from earlier. 

He uses her hair like a leash, gripping it around his fist and pulling her face from the mattress, “don’t be shy, we already know you’re a whore.” 

With each thrust, she moans, whimpers and cries out for more. “Ooh myy goOd,” she starts to tremble as the tip of his cock knocks against her cervix, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Please?” 

“What was that?” He slaps her ass, “I couldn’t hear you?” 

“Please!! Make me cum!! I need you, please, master!” She pulls out all the tricks, pushes all his buttons and relishes in the reward of pleasure. 

He pulls out, flips her over and slams right back into her, watching her beautiful, bruise ridden tits bounce with the motions, “let go, princess,” he gives her the go-ahead, rubbing her clit for assurance, and she tightened around him as a result. 

“That’s it,” he gets more erratic near the end, “fuck, yeah, take it!” 

She screams while she cums and he fucks her right through it. Gripping the sheets, eyes screwed closed, she almost blacks out from how powerful the release was. 

Now tighter than ever, Eddie thrusts into her only a little bit longer before he’s a goner too. He drops down against her, kissing her neck gently while he ruts into her, moaning with each snap of his hips. She wraps her arms and legs around him, holding him so impossibly close to her body, that she never wanted to let him go now. 

She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses the top of his head, still riding out their highs together. “I love you so fucking much, baby,” he reminds her. 

“My love for you only got stronger today,” she assured him. “It was so hot having you show me off… I like when people know I’m yours.” 

He hums, kissing her neck again before propping himself up on his elbow. She brushes his hair behind his ear so he can see her better, smiling at each other with so, so much love and affection in their eyes. “Forever.”

Eddie Munson Taglist (ask to join)

@fightingdragonswithreid @mrs-dr-reid @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @stevesmunsons

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #gareth x reader #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson x reader #jeff stranger things

[lowkeyrobin]

I'm sorry for spamming you I'm just really excited--

Reader who also streams and just rants a lot while they play Stardew Valley?

Like mid milking a cow or something they pause the game and rant about how to kiss someone or smth?...

-🌕 anon! <3

AH OMG DONT WORRY ABOUT SPAMMING I LOVE YOU GUYS 🫶🫶🫶 but I absolutely love this LMAO I made this into a preference setup instead of a oneshot bc I didn't know exactly who you wanted and I was having difficulty finding a way to stretch it out that long anyways. idk much about stardew valley so bare with me, I rewatched Tommy's video of him playing w Molly to help me 💀💀

MCYT ; stardew valley rants

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, tubbo, freddie badlinu, niki nihachu, foolish gamers & quackity

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you'll just be doing some tasks and be like "you know, I've never kissed anyone before. like, how does that work?"

meanwhile Tommy came over a little bit ago to hang out after stream and he just looks at you like 🤨😨

"youve never kissed anyone?? wait... we haven't kissed before? y/n/n, what?"

you shake your head no, confirming that you guys actually never kissed somehow, your relationship was kinda new in both of your defenses.

"we've only been dating like, 2 months, it's fine"

"ARE YOU TRYING TO BE A KISSING VIRGIN FOREVER????"

literally have your first kiss on stream bro

THE EDITS 🫶🙏 I CANT EVEN

the cutest shit ever

TUBBO

you were playing stardew valley for a little calm/lofi stream before you went out to film with tubbo & tommy for a little challenge video

you got a little quiet after a while and started ranting about drama at school

you had some class time with a bunch of popular girls and you didn't exactly fit in with them and drama was starting to arrise

for a solid hour you were ranting about it

tubbo had your stream on as bg noise as he was on the bus to meet up with you and tommy

when you meet up afterwards his first words to you are "did you actually just rant for an hour about school drama?"

you nod and awkwardly smile cause you didn't know he was watching

"you're interesting to say the least"

"you are too!"

RANBOO

you literally paused the whole game mid-farming to rant about some restaurant you and ranboo went to the past day

chat was exploding with "oooo they went on a date" and you were just like "guys it was good food, 10/10"

they get you to join a call with them and you guys talk about it together and your whole experience and how awesome the food was

not to mention the aesthetic of the restaurant was so well put together

you got back to your stream with a little story for your viewers

BADLINU

you started ranting about a movie/show you're fixated on at the moment

went through all the lore, all the characters, background info, etc

Freddie was watching and using tts to talk to you

he encouraged it dw

like he was holding a convo w you and everything it was the cutest shit ever

the edits.

also people clipped the whole like half hour long thing and posted it to YouTube like "y/u/n and badlinu talk about ___!"

you don't even remember it within a week but HE DOES

just one of those cute relationship moments he loves to think about

QUACKITY

you were playing stardew while he was playing gta and you were on a vc together

so obv it kinda sounded crazy 💀💀

"y/n I'm gonna drive my Honda Accord over there and kill all your cows!"

"I swear to God, quackity, don't even dare"

not really ranting but you were yelling threats at him and shit LMAO

NIHACHU

you guys were playing together 🫶

you were teaching her how to do everything and stuff

you eventually went on a tangent about things you do and don't like about the game

she was agreeing to your solid points and stuff

that turns into a rant about hair color and if she can color your hair for you LMAO

FOOLISH GAMERS

"Dude, how do people do that van life shit? I'd die doing that"

straight up hour and a half rant about how much you hate van life tik tokkers while playing stardew valley

he's in your chat like "Yes 100 percent" and adding onto your points LMAO

you both share a hate for van life mfs

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #tubbo x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 11)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, and 251,869 others

y/ndevils00 well… that was painful

welcome back to my post-game recap! if you don’t know who i am because you’ve been living under a rock, or you’ve been in jail (don’t do crimes unless you can get away with them), i’m y/n! or as my boyfriend calls me, ‘dove’! i work as the social media manager for one of the sluttiest teams (and maybe the worst this season…) in the National Hockey League: the New Jersey Devils!

let get into it! your favorite (or maybe least favorite. i wouldn’t blame you!) men from hell lost 4-6 against the patriotic old guys tonight…. i can’t say i wasn’t surprised

we had an absolutely scoreless (and sinless) first period on our end, transitioning into intermission down by 3!

but second period is when we really started heating up! we got FOUR lovely goals by THREE lovely people!!

starting with uncle Toffee!! who scored our first AND our fourth goal!! he’s been so queen girlboss slay recently! who knew he would be this good?! not me! i doubted him severely! (i cannot apologize for my previous thoughts about you uncle, i can only ask you to forgive me anyways because you took my DILH and i’m still recovering)

Timo the absolute Tank Engine got us our second goal of the night with his first goal of the season! and no penalties!! i feel like a proud mother to a usually extremely horribly behaved little boy 🥹

and of course, my favorite whore, my very best swiss, my least favorite kind of cheese; captain slut got our third goal of the night!! THAT’S MY HOE!! POP OFF! (he also got a penalty tonight but i’ve opted not to show that because he paid me $20)

and i could never forget to mention that my beautiful angel of a bad bitch, Rowdy, got an assist on THREE out of four of our goals tonight!! he’s only 3 points away from 20 points already!! THAT’S MY (baby)GIRL!

and third period is when we immediately went as cool as the ice they skate on… giving up three goals (including an empty netter to the oldest looking man alive)… we got no goals of our own and my sweet baby angel face bestie number 1 got a penalty for being too perfect 😔

all-in-all, let’s wish the boys luck against the sabres on friday because apparently they need it! i think friday’s enemy gave them some pretty good advice though and they should put it to use!

p.s. ikea baby and merc-dog are my exact reactions to how badly we played in the third

p.p.s. ovi… when i catch you ovi 🥊😑

tagged john.marino97, tofff73, tmeier96, nicohischier, jackhughes, lhughes_06, jesperbratt, and dawson1417

Load more comments

jackhughes dove, baby, what is that abomination of a 5th photo?

y/ndevils00 my camera wouldn’t focus :(

jackhughes so why post it?

y/ndevils00 you don’t appreciate my talents

jackhughes i can assure you, i appreciate your talents plenty. photo taking is just usually not one of them

lhughes_06 gross

user29 did she just threaten OVECHKIN?! 😭

user17 i fear we may lose these updates after this threat 😪

jesperbratt what was i 😦 at?

y/ndevils00 i honestly couldn’t tell you— i was too busy wondering the best way to fit you in my pocket

john.marino97 i got a picture?!

y/ndevils00 you got an assist and no penalties!

john.marino97 but dawson got a penalty and no assists and still got a picture?

y/ndevils00 you’re not dawson, the standards for you are different

john.marino97 i’ve known you for 4 years and this is how i get treated? DAWSON HAS ONLY KNOWN YOU FOR 2!

y/ndevils00 you tattle on me, you deserve your treatment

dawson1417 she’s got you there, bud

tofff73 you doubted me?!

y/ndevils00 in my defense, i didn’t know you were chill like that

tofff73 jack has informed me that you cried at the trade, i forgive your doubts

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes YOU’RE TELLING HIM MY SECRETS?!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i wasn’t aware that you usually blast your “secrets” on your instagram story

user81 the random luke picture… y/n loves her smush 🥹

tmeier96 did you just call me a tank engine?

tmeier96 also, i’m OLDER than you!

y/ndevils00 that was a compliment! i’m saying you’re built!

tmeier96 you’re a funny little thing

y/ndevils00 also yes you are older— i said i FELT like a proud mother, not that i AM one. i already have one reckless child at home, i don’t want another

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 she’s a cat.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes SHE IS OUR BABY

trevorzegras you love testing how far you can push before you get a warning for your behavior, don’t you?

y/ndevils00 i learned from you 🫶

trevorzegras you’re a cockroach

y/ndevils00 all i’m hearing is that i’m resilient and can live through anything

trevorzegras i hate you

y/ndevils00 you WISH you hated me— if you really did then you wouldn’t facetime me twice a week

nicohischier there are so many things i take issue with about my paragraph

y/ndevils00 is it that it’s not long enough? i’m sorry, i’ll make it longer next time!

nicohischier please DON’T.

lhughes_06 ya know, you were a lot nicer before i joined the team

y/ndevils00 oh good! that means i’m doing this right!

lhughes_06 doing what right?

y/ndevils00 tough love!

dawson1417 i didn’t do anything :(

y/ndevils00 i know, sugarplum!

dawson1417 they jailed me…

y/ndevils00 i can’t imagine how traumatic that must’ve been for you

dawson1417 oh it wasn’t that bad, you were in there too

y/ndevils00 yeah…. lindy put me there in 2nd intermission. he said if i wouldn’t stop chirping the capitals as though i was a player, then i needed to be treated like a player and get a penalty…. then i couldn’t get out because the game started again

dawson1417 you can’t skate, how did you get in?

y/ndevils00 i was betrayed

nicohischier @/y/ndevils00 i stand by it.

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier YOU ALMOST DROPPED ME TWICE

nicohischier those were on purpose.

dawson1417 and how did you get out?

y/ndevils00 my knight in shining armor!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i didn’t get you out?

jesperbratt i did!

jackhughes oh, yeah, that makes sense

#media management au! #media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

[wosowrites]

Starting a New Streak (Leah Williamson x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️swearing⚠️

a/n: I don’t think ive ever written a fic so fast and so emotional. i decided to write this now because the issue of the hate Leah is getting is really making me emotional so I want to get this fic out while im all high up on my emotions and love for Leah. Based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader and Leah have been best friends since they were 15 and are both secretly hiding feelings for each other that get revealed after the australia v england game.

11 years of knowing Leah. 11. Nine of those years you were withholding your feelings for the blonde. You had tried dating other people, other footballers, just others. But no one was Leah. No one was her.

You were all riding high on the Finalissima win going into the Australian friendly, you felt light and happy. 30 game winning streak. Let’s go England.

But everyone makes mistakes… right? You had made a fair few yourself, and you were especially good at beating yourself up about them. An own goal in the first Euros game had you crying in the changing room, even though it all worked out. A complete giveaway during an Arsenal v Chelsea game that lead to Manu having to make a bad tackle and get a red. The gunners lost that game 3-2. You felt as though it was your fault… and it was… but your teammates were by your side. And Leah didn’t leave you along for a minute, didn’t leave you a second to think that you were anything else than… well… human.

The lineup was interesting, Esme starting in defence with you, Jess and Leah instead of Leah, Lucy and you. You felt weird about that, but wanted to be happy for the young defender.

From kickoff, the lionesses were dominating. You had gotten a few shots off and were making good plays, so the fact that nothing was coming out of them angered you to no end. That was the first problem. The team wasn’t connecting. And then, as she always does, Sam Kerr happened.

A good ball was made from the australian defence. And then, it was Sam versus Leah.

Leah got to it first, but it just wasn’t enough. She tried her best to get her head on the ball to secure it into Mary’s hands, and she did. But it was missing that extra power.

The australian striker was fast, and incredibly talented. Kerr just needed a little chip over Mary, and she delivered.

Leah threw her head back in annoyance as Mary watched the ball go in the net from her knees. Nothing to be done.

You jogged up to her, putting your hands on Leah’s shoulder. "Look at me, Lee. It’s okay. It happens I should have been there to support you more. Team mistake," you said to her.

She nodded absentmindedly and apologized to Mary who clapped her on the back and told her to keep going.

Bur it wasn’t a team mistake. It was a Leah mistake. But Leah was part of the team, she was your skipper, your best friend, your teammate, your world. And so it was a team mistake.

You kept going. As a defender, you shockingly got a few opportunities on net, but you weren’t able to conceive a goal. "FUCK!" you yelled, throwing your head back in anger and sighing loudly as the ball you had just shot grazed the outside of the post. "It’s all good! We got this!" Georgia said, tapping you on the back and letting you jog back to your defensive role.

The first half ended 1-0.

You all walked back into the changing room, Sarina telling you to think of the game as goalless to take the pressure off. "Let’s capitalize on our opportunities girls!" Sarina said, clapping her hands and sending all of you off.

You slung your arm around Leah, holding her a little to close for friends. "Brush it off, love. Brush it off," you told her, kissing her cheek gently before parting with her as you got into the view of the cameras.

Time was a blur, it was like it was non existent. It passed, but you didn’t notice. All you could think was that opportunity after opportunity was being missed, and wasted, and you wanted to yell at yourself more than anything.

And then the 66th minute came.

You didn’t even notice who shot the ball. All you noticed was the deflection off of Leah’s arm, and that Mary went right as the ball went left. You heard the scream of joy, the kind of scream that only happened when a player scored their first goal for their country. You knew it well. You had let out that scream three times. Once for U-15, another for U-17, and the loudest one of all, for the senior team.

Leah looked like she was on the verge of tears and then and there you wished for nothing more than to wrap her in bubble wrap and protect her from the world. You were scared of what people would say.

You were scared of the bad fans. And you knew Leah was too.

The final whistle marked the end of an era. 30 games unbeaten. Gone.

Ouch.

"Leah!" you said, rushing up to her and trying to hug her as she walked into the tunnel. "Get away from me! I don’t need you telling me it’s not my fault, okay?! I don’t want you right now. Just let me be," she yelled.

You froze. Everyone heard. Lucy looked shocked. Keira looked uncomfortable. Sam looked hurt for you. And everyone else looked like they just wanted to run.

"Okay."

"Leah! I don’t want to do this but they want you for media," Sarina said. Leah looked broken at those words. "Tell them she’s not available. I’ll go," you said. "Wait- y/n. I’m-" Leah tried to apologize, her heart breaking as she processed the words she had said to you. "Don’t. Go," and with that, you walked away.

You shook hands with the interviewer and camera man. "Leah’s not available. I’ll be here instead. Can we do this quickly please?" you asked, not caring that you were already on live TV.

The crew nodded.

"How do you feel after this loss? Ending a streak, ending an era. What’s it like?" the woman asked. "I’m scared. Genuinely that’s the only feeling I can stomach right now. Obviously I’m aware that the disappointment and anger will settle in later but right now I’m just scared. Obviously mistakes were made. Yes, by Leah. The most obvious ones were but not only from her. From all of us. Um…" you sniffled, pinching your nose and biting your cheek. "Yeah. When you get to the level where everyone is watching you it’s great but it’s also scary. Loosing is scary because of what people say. I want to just… wrap Leah in bubble wrap because I’m so scared of what people will say about her online. She’s amazing and i’ve known her for forever. She’s led us to four trophies and a wonderful streak. But everything comes to an end. But i’m making it clear here and now that Leah’s talent is not ended. Our confidence hasn’t faltered," you admitted.

Never had you been so raw on love TV. There was no editing on live TV, no tweaking, no clipping, no editing. Just your words for everyone to hear.

"Is this a setback for the World Cup?" she asked.

"No. Not at all. I think this may be a blessing in disguise. Going into the world cup beaten humbles us. We understand that we are beatable. Tonight was easily my hardest night in an England shirt and I felt as though I wanted to scream the whole game but a setback? The Lionesses don’t have setbacks," you told her, and the world as a matter of fact. "One last thing. If you could say anything to the fans, what would it be?"

You took a second to think. "Thank you for standing with us through all our wins, all our trophies. The cups and awards and championships in our trophy cabinet are just as much yours as they are ours. I hope, that if you are a real fan, that you will stick by us through this loss. I hope you stand by us because we love you all very much. Also, any hate comments on my posts, and you’re blocked."

You took off your headphones, smiled gently at the interviewer and walked away.

The walk back to the changing room was silent other than the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. Had you said too much? Had your feelings for Leah taken over your words? Maybe. Probably.

You pushed open the door of the changing room and walked inside, finding the whole team sitting in silence, still in their kits.

They all looked up as you walked in, some of the younger girls who had played were red eye’d.

Their looks on you sent your heart into overdrive. You took a gasping, shaky breath as your throat closed and leaned your head against the wall, palms pressed to the cool tile as though if you pushed on the wall hard enough, it would take back the words you had said on live TV. "If you write hate comments i’ll block you? What the fuck was that." you thought.

Lucy and Mary were by your side quickly, concerned by your shaky sobs. "Shh. It’s okay. What is it?" Lucy said, gently grabbing you and letting your head rest on her shoulder as Mary rubbed your back. "The interview… I said too much. And Leah’s mad at me. And we- Im scared of what people will say about her. I’m in love with her," you said.

The last part was nothing but a whisper for only Mary and Lucy to hear. The two seniors looked into each others eyes, a silent demonstration of shock. "Where is Leah?" you asked, pulling away from Lucy and wiping your face with your sweaty, muddy, and grass covered jersey. "Washroom. Hasn’t come out in ten," Mary said.

You nodded and then walked deeper into the changing room towards the door connecting the guest locker room to the washroom.

You pushed open the door gently, seeing Leah sitting on the floor, her head in her hands, her body shaking with sobs.

"Leah…" you cried gently, tears steaming down your own cheeks again. She looked up quickly, her face more broke than you had ever seen it before. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t. I’m sorry," Leah cried, her voice trembling and getting caught in her throat. "It’s okay. It’s okay," you said, quickly heading over to her.

You let your body slip down the wall. You put your arms around Leah and she did the same to you. For the time your bodies pressed together, you didn’t care how the other stentched of sweat, and mud… and fear and pain and disappointment. You only cared about each other.

"Leah this couldn’t be worse timing but-"

"I’m in love with you," Leah said, cutting you off. Your eyes widened as you pulled away from her. "You cut me off," you said, not realizing you were in a little bit of shock. "What?" she said, sniffling. "You interrupted me! I was going to say. Leah. This couldn’t be worse timing but I am in love with you," you said.

It sunk in how stupid your words had been, considering Leah had just said the same thing. "Really?" she said. "Yes. And don’t watch the interview they made me do because it’s embarrassing and sad," you told her.

She let out a small laugh and leaned her forehead against yours. "30 games unbeaten streak broken," she said. Somehow, her breath smelled sweet. "Well we have another streak. 11 years of friendship. That’s a good streak. And I say we start another one," you told her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah? One minute of you being my girlfriend and… counting."

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #leah williamson #arsenal fcw #mary earps #sam kerr #lucy bronze #engwnt #lionesses #this is woso

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt.5 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 5.4k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

notes: it's finally here!! only took like 70 years.

a few months had passed since you were first employed. it was now late november, and oh boy had it been an interesting yet stressful few months not just for you, but the team as well.

robbo and thiago were out due to injuries, and there was no telling when they were coming back. your mum was breathing down your neck all the way from london, asking when you were finally coming to visit seen as it's been nearly a year, your nephew alex was sick with chicken pox and in order to stay in your healthy state you decided to stay with your dad for 2 weeks.

and now you were sitting in the booth beside clara, your knee bouncing up and down as you watched manchester city eat your team up alive with 30 minutes left on the clock.

how fun.

oh, and did I mention that you and trent hadn't gotten the opportunity to have a proper conversation in nearly 2 weeks...

it was going so well. there wasn't really telling what "it" was, but you felt it. you felt it whenever he smiled at you, whenever he replied to you story or commented on your Instagram posts, when he would ask you to join him for his session in the gym instead of taking your break in the cafeteria— and sure as hell when he gave you that look.

the one you caught him giving you from the other side of the room. even if you weren't looking you could feel his gaze boring into your head and it took every nerve in your body not to look back at him. you were too afraid of drowning yourself in even more delusions.

but that bit of time that you shared was cut short after a surprise appearance at the luton match two weeks prior.

the surprise was dressed in a liverpool jersey with trent's number at the back and by the look on his face when he saw, it didn't take a lot for you to realise that it was his jersey.

you don't even know how she got into the tunnel, but she didn't waste a second and jumped into his arms. you watched his facial expression flicker from utter confusion to slight hurt. but why?

she pulled away from the hug and beamed up at him, "did you miss me?"

that was a sign to keep your distance.

there wasn't anything going on between you anyway. perhaps just a slight moment, a flicker of something more, but it didn't last, and you didn't bother either.

before you knew it, the ref had finally blown the whistle for full-time not too long after trent managed to score a goal. that boy was nothing short of a miracle.

"I think we need to consider putting haaland into a temporary coma," you suggested jokingly as you followed ali and virgil through the tunnel and of course only ali found it somewhat funny, whereas virgil narrowed his eyes at you.

you raised your hands in defense, "I was kidding."

the team's captain let out an unconvincing hum and opened the changing room door for you to enter before the post-match interview. he continued to go on about how the team just wasn't on their a game today, meaning that their heads were all elsewhere.

"we were nervous that's all, and I'm sure the stats will be more of a tell tale for that," he said and sat down on the bench with a sigh.

you let out a scoff, "save that for the interview not me. but seriously," your face scrunched in slight emphathy, "they were practically walking through you."

virgil sat up at the comment and was just about to answer when someone else chimed in. "first of all!"

your head dropped at the sound of cutis' voice as he entered the room. "you try running around for 90 minutes with expectations as big as virgil's forehead."

the room fell silent, and you immediately expected virgil to have curtis stuffed inside one of the lockers, but to everyone's surprise, he just nodded in agreement.

after a few minutes of banter, virgil left for the post-match interview, leaving everyone else to gather their things and get them to the bus which you were more than delighted to do. it had been a tiring week, work hours were insane even though you were barely at the office.

if you weren't prepping for the extra content that you'd be shooting the following week, then you were making phone calls to sponsors, answering journalists, finalising any media content that needed to put out on time or overseeing practices then you were sleeping.

even now as you were sitting on the bus beside dominik, while your eyes averted their focus from your laptop that was situated on your lap to your phone in your hand with clara's chat open.

"okay, I see you, multitasker," he said with an impressed chuckle that managed to make your eyes roll. he leaned over your shoulder a bit to get a better look at the email displayed on your laptop screen.

"dear ms carter," he began with mock enthusiasm. "regarding my previous email blah blah-- boring."

you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his lack of interest, knowing very well how he felt. "is this all you do? reply to boring emails?"

your nose scrunched in disagreement at the question. "without these boring emails you'd be living in shambles. and besides," a sigh escaped your lips as you finished typing your response. "my job is more than just emails. I get to travel, I get to meet awesome people--"

"--awesome people like me of course," dominik interjected with a grin and you pursed your lips.

"I was talking about literally anyone else."

"she was talking about me!" mo yelled from the back and you nodded in absolute agreement.

"so are you making the trip or not?"

you've been on the same phone call for the past ten minutes, trying to be reasonable with someone as stubborn as a 7-year-old before their bedtime on a friday.

and you were starting to think that winning this battle was pointless, because he'd get his way regardless.

"I have a busy schedule, bro I've been telling you this. I start filming today and--"

"--you can take two days off jamie. please."

you let out an exasperated sigh as you stepped out onto the training field, where the camera crew were setting up, and giving the team a rundown of how today was going to play out.

"I still have a job to do you know? just because they're not playing doesn't mean I don't have things to do," your answer came out more sarcastic than you intended but he just wasn't listening.

"you're lucky that I didn't ask for you to stay the entire month and asked for a weekend instead. I'd be happy with anything at this point."

okay, he had a point there. and you were starting to get fed up with this back and forth, knowing that you weren't going to get your way.

you barely found time for yourself, but now that you though about it an off weekend didn't sound too bad.

you let out a sigh, "I still need to go back home to london to see my mum."

a loud bang echoed through the receiver end, "you'll find time to see her. the flight is already booked, you'll be gone by tuesday and back for thursday for your match. you won't be missing out."

once again, there was no point in arguing so you just hummed in response, a ghost of a smile present on your lips. "you better make that week worth it."

what was the point in staying for a few days? might as well stay from the tuesday till the following monday. you already told jurgen about it, complaining about how persistent the boy was being but the team's manager wasn't helping your case and instead suggested that you go.

"don't be boring jamie. it's not like we're going to die on this side without you."

"week??" the excitement was evident in his voice, and you tried so hard to fight back a smile, but what came next was enough to make you beam.

"that goal will be for you, i promise. i'll even do some stupid shit to make sure everyone knows that it's for you."

fucking sweet talker.

"shut up, I'm leaving bye."

when you ended the call, you were immediately called over by one of the directors so you could be miced up. you spent a few minutes running through the agenda for the team's newest series, Up! The Reds!

it took forever to think of a good name so don't even. you had the entire media team sit in for a meeting just for a good title until you just settled for this one. it was a process okay...

every week, along with Inside Training, an episode of at least 30 minutes would be uploaded where the team would compete in various challenges and games against each other with you as a host. so for this week's episode, you figured that you'd start out with a field day segment.

three legged races, sack races, an egg and spoon race, and musical chairs.

nothing like grown men doing preschool field day challenges.

spamjam._. added to their story

"welcome to the first episode of Up! The Reds!"

you heard a snort from the group of boys on either side of you. "that's the title?" curtis called out, trying to suppress his laughter and you forced a smile at the camera.

"how about you stop talking and let me do my job?" you asked passive-aggressively, the smile deepening into that of irritation and he quickly apologised and cleared his throat, ushering for you to continue.

when you were finally done with the introduction, you had everyone play a quick of rock paper scissors to split them into pairs for the first game, the three legged race.

"okay so we have kostas and macca, mo and ibou--" a laugh escaped your lips as you paired the two up and handed them the bandana, ibou taking it with a heavy sigh and a head shake.

he walked mo's way, complaining about how he was going to have him dragging on the floor but everyone was too busy laughing to even consider that slight issue. "It's for the entertainment, it's fine," virgil spoke up and pat him on the back.

you cleared your throat and got back to reading out the groups with a smile. "dom and jarell, cody and darwin, ali and virgil- oh I love that. joe and endo, and lastly curtis and shorty."

harvey walked past you with a look of disgust, obviously having to look up at you. "I hate you."

"what?" you bent down a bit and put you hand to your ear. "I can't hear you."

that had the entire media crew doubling over, and you couldn't help but feel a swarm of warmth spread through your chest. you didn't quite know why, but you didn't ponder and let the moment flow naturally.

once everyone had calmed down, you clutched tighter onto the last bandana in your hand when trent spoke up. "what about me?"

a smile drew to your lips and you lifted the bandana in your hand, waving it from side to side. "you're with me. it's bonding time. literally."

it didn't take too long for everyone to actually get into the line. the winners would be decided via process of elimination, two pairs at a time until there was a winning team. nothing complicated. the first pairs to compete with each other were ali and virgil, and kostas and macca.

the rest of the team sat along the side to watch the race, cameras out and excited smiles while they cheered for their teammates. the distance that they were wasn't too long you hoped, but you needed something good enough for their too be a struggle.

"ready... set... go!" you blew your whistle and they were off with waddles and screams of struggle. it was a mess right from the get-go and you loved every bit of it.

you watched as virgil and ali struggled, and surprisingly kostas and macca were in the lead.

while they screamed and tried to find a rhythm, nearly tipping over multiple times, kostas and macca's counting could be heard as they kept their determined eyes on the ground. "one, two. one, two. one, two."

the early afternoon air was filled with laughter and screaming as everyone enjoyed the array of games that were set out for them. from an absolute mess, and nearly breaking their legs in the three-legged race, and to the smart idea of playing catch with am egg, to endo rolling around in the sack to finish line instead of hopping, and to the wwe showdown of musical chairs that you won.

"you cheater," trent said as he got up from the floor while you sat on the last chair, a proud smile on your face as the rest of the team applauded you.

he walked over to you with a smile of disbelief, trying to argue his point. "you can't kick the chair away and throw me to the floor. that's such a foul."

you shrugged innocently, "tactics my boy."

you wrapped up filming after 4 hours, and you were happy to say that everyone had a good time. it was finally time to go home though, and you needed a shower immediately.

you bid your goodbyes to everyone and hopped into your car without a second thought, your mind drifting off until you got home to hear the most heartwarming call of your name.

"jamie!"

"alex!"

when you were done settling in for the evening, as usual, you spent some time cutting down on the clips of today's filming before you could send them back to the filming crew for final editing. you sat at your desk with one leg up on your chair covered by a blanket and some snacks as you watched through the clips.

you caught yourself laughing more than you hoped. you thought back to your time in the field during all of this, and a smile drew to your lips, then you felt your eyes fixate on someone. your eyes unknowingly followed his every motion, watching as the distance between the two of you decreased as you spoke to each other.

it felt a bit awkward at first when you partnered up with trent but as time progressed the atmosphere eased back into its comfortability. in the moment it didn't feel like much because your mind was occupied with other things but now that you were watching everything back, you could get a closer look at certain things. and then you caught it.

the look.

you were trying to help darwin get the egg on the spoon, standing nowhere near trent but his eyes were on you. a glint of something in his eyes. but that was the issue.

it was only something. the feeling was frustrating, and it was worse that you couldn't even act on it. he had a girlfriend or whatever she was. her name was skylar, and judging by the look robbo gave her the day she came back— she must've done something wrong.

normally you would let this thing with trent play out and entertain it out of curiosity but you had to push your feelings to the side and suck up whatever pride you had and accept that he had someone... kind of.

a heavy sigh left your lips and you ran your fingers through your hair. "fucking hell jamie."

just as you were about to shut off your pc and take refuge under your bed covers, your phone began to ring. it was almost pitiful to see how quickly you answered the call the second you saw it was trent.

"hey, are you busy?"

your breath hitched at the sound of his voice.

pathetic.

your eyes roamed your room in contemplation. "uh, no. I just finished cutting down some clips for editing." you blinked a few times at the silence, "why?"

trent's chuckle vibrated through the speaker and you swear you could feel it in your stomach. "I just felt like calling you."

your eyes widened a fraction. "oh."

OH????

"yeah." there was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to say. "do you want to go for a drive?"

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer imagine #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer x reader #liverpool x reader #fanfic #football imagine #footballer x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #afterglow trent alexander arnold #friends to lovers #cherrei writes

[rilakeila]

exchange of roses, intro 2: what's a bit of risk?

host club! jjk x fem! reader x ohshc

intro details the two clubs need to settle the terms, but someone decides to take the stakes of this competition too seriously

gojo satoru is the head of jujutsu technology academy's elite high school host club with his friends: geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori sukuna, shoko ieiri, haibara yu, and of course, their princess manager. what happens when they go up against another elite host club in an exchange event with different schools? let's find out!

"you guys just couldn't say no, we can be going through this exchange event for fun," (y/n) groaned, stretching her arms, intentionally whacking satoru, who was behind her, in the face.

"hmph. watch your arms, lady manager," he aggressively poked her waist that was wide open as she stretched, earning a scowl with her fiery eyes. satoru just sheepishly whistled, acting innocent. "besides, who says it's not fun? it's way more fun if we single out a team."

"i agree, there's nothing more fun than playing dodgeball with competitive intent to throw at full speed," sukuna mentioned oh so casually, as if he beats people up on regular basis. he doesn't but one look from him can for sure kill.

"can we not just play normally? just for the fun of it?" (y/n) questioned.

"no." they (except for kento and ieiri) said in unison.

"yu, come on, you're on their side?" (y/n) groaned once more, he always on her side.

he shrugged as he snacked on his freebies, "it'll be fun. having a competitive spirit lets us team up together as one!"

"yes, that's right, yu. i promise we'll behave," suguru assured, more so attempted to, knowing that his promises such as these were empty to (y/n). during the last summer camp with different schools, sukuna, satoru, and suguru each given a student a concussion in a dodgeball game, in which their defense, they should have ducked or caught it. the amount of compensation and apologies (y/n) had to do was astronomical.

"if it weren't for who your parents are, we would have all been toast, anyways, here's music room 3. please behave and remember the information i said about each host," she glared at each of them (aka triple s).

she opened the door to the music room, bright lights came to be, rose petals flying towards them with violins heard in the background.

"welcom-"

"oh, it's just you guys," a pair of disgusted voices said. it was coming from those orange-haired twins (the hitachiin twins according to her own research).

"show some respect, men. there are still ladies in their club," tamaki said. he somehow appeared in front of them at the entrance, bowing in front of ieiri and (y/n) to offer them his white roses. "for you, my ladies."

the two females just exchanged a look and shrugging before reaching out for a rose. it was harmless until, sukuna and suguru decided to snatch them, casuing tamaki to gasp.

"hey, suguru, that's mine," ieiri reached out for the flower, but suguru was dangling it too far up, teasing her almost letting her grab it only to take the opportunity away.

(y/n) didn't even get a chance to argue for hers. if it was sukuna to win against, forget it. however after he discarded the white rose, he handed her his signature flower, geranium. she pressed her lips together, but he managed to catch the massive side eye, "thanks, i guess."

"those flowers were for the ladies," tamaki cleared his throat, "anyways, we're here to discuss the terms of our competition."

the blonde snapped, out of nowhere, the red couches appeared. one for each club, and the coffee table separating them. he was already sitting in the middle, and the rest of his host club gathered in a strategical position, it seems. jujutsu academy's host club followed suit, the girls with yu take the couch, and the four stand in the back.

it's as if a tumbleweed can just past through the middle. both groups sat so close but felt like they were miles away.

based on (y/n)'s lecture of each member of the ouran host club after accepting the showdown (courtesy of some fan website), they were able to differentiate who is who, but as the world is small, some families have already worked together.

"to break the silence, i have made print outs of each club roster and through extensive research, i have added a brief family background and hobbies to add a fair ground," the glasses, which was ootori kyoya, placed a manila folder onto the coffee table. "as well as the events that will be taking place this week."

(y/n) liked this guy already: well prepared, does his research. she grabbed the folder, seeing that the events and its schedule were pasted on one side. she distributed the paper of the ouran members around, seeing in depth information. there were pictures, names, personality traits, and hobbies added onto the profile.

some of the members such as haninozuka mitsukini and morinozuka takashi were more on the athletic side. judo.. martial arts...

however, the rest of the members didn't have much information on them except traits. hitachiin twins, determined and conniving. haruhi, normal. tamaki, determined and obnoxious. kyoya, calculated.

based on the schedule, the days were as followed, tuesday and wednesday were athletic days, thursday was club specialty, and friday was a free day, ending with a gala at the end of the day (satoru already scheduled a fan meeting on friday morning).

in honesty, there was no point in this meeting as the entire exchange event is through point accumulation, and the winner would be announced after the events on thursday.

each team that signed up needed to participate in a maximum of four athletic events in the first day. however, they were also required to do the team athletic events the next day.

"we are all required to do volleyball and dodgeball. we will end up facing each other at least once. there are some overlaps with some events such as judo and martial arts," (y/n) started off, skipping around the paper, looking at the activities, "well, i guess, we can discuss with our groups of what events to do for 10 minutes and then reconvene afterwards."

she looked up to see the ouran host club, thinking as one, looking up as if there's a giant air thought bubble in the sky. once she turned to her group, they were doing the same. "hello?"

"ah yes yes, that sounds great. men, let's get to work," tamaki answered for the entirety of his group, but she knew that kyoya would be leading regardless.

"we have this. they technically have one and a half athletes, still not too sure about the munchkin over there. but, the only trouble might be how the tall one is a judo national champion," suguru commented, pointing at mori's image on the paper.

"are you underestimating my skills, geto?" sukuna (2x judo champion) questioned, obviously already feeling threatened.

"no, no, just pointing out a fact. we're not doubting your skills, kuna. just thinking about how you lost your last tournament," satoru (won one martial tournament and thinks he's hot shit) patted his pink-haired friend on the shoulder.

the loss wasn't devastating to sukuna in any way, he knew that the last call to where he lost was because the referee was paid to make the other the champion (they were the favored to win). sukuna shrugged off satoru's hand who only laughed at the former's expression.

"oh, let's do the 1600 meter relay," yu pointed at the words on the paper, in which (y/n) and ieiri gave him a thumbs up.

on the other side, tamaki and the twins were trying to attempt to enlarge his ear tenfold in order to eavesdrop on the other team.

"boss, the subjects seem to be laughing at us," hikaru and kaoru heard the hearty laugh of satoru.

"we don't have much athleticism in the host club except for mori-senpai and honey-senpai. outside of team events, we can't use the same pairing more than twice for each day," haruhi read one of the guidelines outloud before someone would be able to chime in to rely on the third years.

"we can do the relay race, with the running that we play games like daruma ga koronda, it'd be similar," kyoya recommended. the host club had started indulging in commoner activities recently.

"takashi and i can participate in the martial arts events!" honey munched on a piece of cake as he volunteered themselves to what their kouhais would be relying them on, in which mori nodded in agreement.

"thank you, honey-senpai, mori-senpai," tamaki cheered while kyoya marked the events off.

after 10 minutes passed, all of the hosts reconvened, allowing their spokespeople to communicate their chosen events. seeing that ouran was the home campus, they were at an understanding that they can choose who went first. however since the 'managers' were speaking, kyoya allowed (y/n) to speak first.

"we decided to choose martial arts, kendo, table tennis, relay race based on my team's penchant for competing," (y/n) listed the events. "and, it would allow you to leverage the third years."

"it seems that we all chose the same events, easy enough. the third day is which club has the best specialty. with the way the event is set up, it takes away the challenge of keeping points. whoever has the most points wins this little charade," kyoya said. so, he agrees. this entire competition was stupid.

"so what happens if you lose?" of course, sukuna would try to raise the stakes more than it needed to be.

"why, nothing of course, but having the title of the best host club," tamaki stated.

oh boy, here it comes.

"that's a little boring, don't you think?" sukuna questioned, a malicious smile curling onto his face. "what about this, whoever loses has to abolish their club."

"I agree it's more fun this way," suguru chimed in. however, he was little less than confident about the idea, buthe figured that someone needed to back up the idea to avoid the blow on sukuna.

it felt as if a lightning struck through the room. frozen expressions found their way to the entirety of the club (for the exception of nanami, mori, and kyoya), the worst being their club presidents.

"well, that isn't very fair," the twins moped with a tongue sticking out to sukuna, arms crossed.

kyoya has the assumption that sukuna knows that table tennis, martial arts and kendo can go either way, relays will go to jujutsu tech, but the bulk of points can be found in club specialties on day three. ouran has a home advantage due to the majority of the students attending this event would be their own students. there was a high chance of winning, and even if they lost, who's to say they couldn't just create another club with the same intentions.

and with the way their lady manager is thinking, she also knows this, too.

"we'll do it," kyoya answered for them, there was going to be little harm.

"kyoya, you can't just make decisions for the club," it was the first time the tone of their ouran president has changed into something more serious.

(y/n) nodded in agreement that they would indulge into sukuna's idea, holding her hand up for kyoya to initiate this 'contract.' with no going back, kyoya sealed the deal with a shake of their hands.

however with the way the rest of her club was silent, she was hoping that they all realized that there were truly no stakes involved. sukuna was known for provoking his rivals, it ran through his family, of course.

"I have deep trust that our manager understands the risks, and what's life without a bit of risk?" satoru asserted. at first, it did rattle him to hear his hard efforts would be at waste, but their advantage lies in the athletic department. they would just need to blow it out of the water for day 3.

with that, (y/n) stood up followed by ieiri and yu, she bowed to the ouran host club, "let the games begin."

we'll see you then!

extra:

"kuna, why did you have to do that to us?" satoru was shaking the pink-haired teen back and forth who just whistled.

"thought it would be more fun this way. the twins and their idiot king more than likely don't realize they have the competitive advantage between us," sukuna said, pushing his president away from him.

"even if we abolished, it's not like there won't be girls following us around. the host club is just formalities and for us to make some sort of extra profit," ieiri muttered as she twirled her hair.

"plus, me and nanami wouldn't have to work overtime upkeeping this club of yours," (y/n) pinched satoru's cheek in annoyance before continuing to walk.

"yeah, it's a busy season everyday here," nanami would be (is) the club's biggest hater, only because he had to exert more effort than he needed to.

"are you saying you hate being a host? that you hate this club?" satoru dramatically questioned.

"we'd be lying if we said no," (y/n) and nanami said, nonchalantly, in response satoru gave a hmph.

"but it's always fun times when we're all together, right?" yu came in between (y/n) and nanami, wrapping his arms around their necks. the two made a noise of agreement. being part of the host club was fun because despite serving guests, the time together prior and after club time was always well spent.

"let's just think of this time as another vacation. let's just play," suguru dragged ieiri and satoru in the same manner as yu did.

even if sukuna and satoru seemed to drag them into big messes everywhere they go, it was always a great time with jujutsu academy host club.

intro 2 completed.

#jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #suguru x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #shoko ieiri #shoko x reader #yu haibara #ohshc fanfic #ohshc x reader #rilakeila hc!jjk

[yankstrash]

Seven Minutes In Heaven ~ Rutger McGroarty (x Fantilli sister)

Warnings: Making out, underage drinking

You felt a rush through your body as you downed your second drink of the night, already feeling slightly tipsy. The hockey team had just won a big game against Penn State, and were throwing a party to celebrate. Of course you were attending, being Luca and Adam Fantilli’s sister, you didn’t really have a choice. Not like you minded though, you loved to party and you loved your brothers teammates. 

Well, most of them anyway. 

Just as you were about to pour yourself another drink, you heard the familiar voice that you despised heavily behind you.

“You sure you can handle that much alcohol, Y/n?” You stopped what you were doing and rolled your eyes as you turned around to be met face to face with the one guy on the team you did not like. 

Rutger. AKA, your brother's best friend.

“From what I’ve seen, you really can’t.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning. “Stop acting like you know me and what I can handle.” You spat back as you turned back around to continue pouring your drink.  

“I’m just saying, being a baby and all, maybe you should slow down.” He said, which caused you to stop what you were doing once again and whip back around. “Stop,” You began, pointing a finger at him. “Calling me that.”

You were over 2 years younger than Luca and 3 months younger than Adam, making you the baby. You hated when people brought it up, because you always felt like you were being compared to your brothers. Sure you weren’t a big time hockey star like them, but you were still your own person and deserved to be treated that way. 

Rutger knew that, which is why he always picked on you for it. 

You can’t even remember when or why you and Rutger started disliking each other, you just know it’s been this way since the start. You met him when you first got to UMich, and ever since the two of you have not gotten along. 

You can’t ever remember a time where he was nice to you. Whether it be teasing you, making fun of you or just flat out being rude to you, you and Rutger have never had a friendly interaction with each other. 

It’s not like you wanted it to be this way. He was best friends with both of your brothers and is with them 90% of the time. According to everyone else, Rutger is a nice guy who’s a lot of fun to be around. However, you are yet to see that side of him. And you’ve known him for almost a year now. 

Along with all that, he is also insanely attractive. Not nice, sure, but hot as hell. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on Rutger when you first met, and sometimes you think you still do, but how could you with the way he treats you?

Rutger put his hands up in defense after you told him to stop calling you a baby. “Just looking out for my buddies' baby sister, that’s all.” He replied, smirking. Just as you were about to reboot, Luca walked up to you guys.

“Sup guys!” He said, throwing an arm around your shoulder. 

“I was trying to help Y/n with her alcohol intake, but she doesn’t want my help.” Rutger said, grinning at you.

“You are such a fucking-” You began to say, but your mouth was covered with Luca’s hand. “Okay! Let’s go over here, shall we Y/n?” He said, and ushered you away from Rutger, leaving him laughing at you in your tracks. 

“Can you two ever not be arguing with each other?” Luca asked you once you stopped walking. You crossed your arms and said “It’s him not me.”

Your brother laughed as he shook his head. “Pretty sure you give it back 150%, Y/n/n.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged. 

“You know, if you guys would stop arguing long enough to get to know each other you’d probably really like each other. You’re both a lot more similar than you think.” Luca started. You just rolled your eyes in response. “Plus, Rut’s a really good guy, I think he would actually be really good for you. And you for him.” 

That comment almost made your eyes pop out of your head. Your brothers have always told their friends you were off limits. 

Do the rules not apply to Rutger McGroarty? 

“How many of my friends have I ever said that about?” 

Guess not. 

“It’s not going to happen, Lu.” You said. 

Luca rolled his eyes and said, “You both need to get over yourselves.”

Before you could respond, Mark came over to you guys. “Hey we’re all playing a game in the living room, come on!” He said, and darted towards the living room.

You and Luca made your way over to where everyone was gathering. You all sat in a circle as you took a seat between Luca and Johnny. Rutger was right across from you, and when he caught your eye he sent you his signature smirk. 

You rolled your eyes in response and broke eye contact. “What are we playing?” You asked to no one in particular.

“Truth or dare.” Ethan answered. Your face scrunched up at his answer. “What are we, 10?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Oh c'mon Y/n, it’ll be fun!” Johnny said from next to you, nudging your arm. “Yeah, we play it a different way.” Gavin said from his spot. 

“And what way is that?” You asked. 

“You’re banned if you refuse any of the truths or dares.” Mark said.

“What?!” You asked in disbelief. “You guys aren’t serious.” 

They were serious. Not one of the guys had a joking expression on their face.

“We are. Some freshman a few years ago refused to do his dare and we never let him back to another party again.” Keaton said. 

“That’s ridiculous.” You said.

“Our house, our rules. Now, who wants to start?” Ethan said. 

Multiple rounds of the game went by with the stupidest truths and dares you have ever heard. Finally, someone picked Rutger.

“Rut, truth or dare.” Grano asked him.

“Truth.”

“How many girls have you slept with since getting to UMich?”

There was a chorus of whistles from around the circle as all the boys were curious to know his answer.

For some reason, this question sent a pang to your chest. You didn’t want to hear his answer.

But why? Why did this question bother you?  

“I need a refill.” You said before Rutger could answer the question. You quickly got up and made your way to the kitchen, thankfully missing his answer. 

When you returned, Luca was finishing a dare.

“Okayyyy, hmmmm.” Your brother said as he looked around the circle. His eyes landed on you and he smirked. 

“Y/n, truth or dare.” He asked you.

Fuck.

Your brothers already knew everything about you, besides everything you really didn’t want them knowing. Not trusting the questions they’d ask you, you went the alternate route.

“Dare.”

Luca looked at Adam, then at Johnny, then back at you before a huge smirk took over his face.

“I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with Rutger.” 

His response nearly stopped your heart.

If this was your brother's attempt at getting you and his best friend to get along, it was a low one. And one you did not want to participate in.

“Luca, no.” You said in all seriousness.

“Oh, is someone refusing a dare?” You heard Mark say and you shot him a death glare.

“Luca, that’s not even funny. Pick something else, or at least someone else for me to do that with.”

You truthfully had no interest in playing seven minutes in heaven with any of your brother's teammates, but at this point you were willing to do it with any of them as long as it wasn’t Rutger.

“Nope. You and Rutger. Go, now.” He said as he waved his hands to usher you away.

“What if I don’t agree to this?” Rutger finally spoke up from his spot across from you.

“Then you’re both banned.” Ethan said.

“WHAT?” You both yelled in unison.

“How is that fair? It’s Y/n’s dare, not mine.” Rutger asked, getting annoyed.

“Don’t care, you’re a part of it now. Now both of you get a move on it.” Ethan responded, pointing to the bathroom down the hall.

You turned to your brother and glared at him. “I hate you.”

He just laughed in response as you and Rutger both got up and made your way to the bathroom. 

“See you in seven minutes!” Someone yelled as you closed the door behind you.

You sighed heavily as you and Rutger stood a couple feet away from each other in the tiny half bath. 

“Thanks a lot.” He said.

“Me?! What did I do?! This was all my brother, not me, so don’t even try to put the blame on me.” You responded as you raised your voice. 

You both stood in silence for another minute, but you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to be stuck in here with him, you were going to get answers.

“Maybe while we’re stuck in here together you could tell me why you’ve always been such a jerk to me.” You said. 

Rutger looked at you like he didn’t know what you were talking about. “What do you mean?” He asked.

You looked at him in disbelief.

He could not be serious.

“What do you mean what do I mean? Rutger, ever since the day we met you’ve been nothing but mean to me. You always tease me, you always call me a baby, you always try to start an argument, and for WHAT? What did I ever do to you?” You asked, growing frustrated. 

Rutger stayed silent for a moment, getting lost in his thoughts.

You took his silence as a sign that there was no real reason, and he just did not like you. You were over this, you couldn’t care less if the sophs banned you from parties at their house, you were leaving.

Just as you turned to leave, Rutger stopped you.

“Y/n, wait.” He said as he gently grabbed your wrist to turn you back around.

You snatched your wrist out of his grip as you waited for him to say something.

“It’s stupid.” Was all he said.

“I don’t care.” Rutger sighed as he said “You’re not going to believe me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him. “Try me.”

Rutger sighed as he looked down at the ground. “It’s because I like you, Y/n.”

Your scowl immediately fell as the words came out of his mouth. 

“What?” You asked.

“I like you, Y/n.” He started, as he looked up at you. “I’ve liked you since Luca and Adam introduced us.” 

What?

“But, they’re my best friends. And you’re their baby sister.” He said, then immediately closed his mouth when he said it and saw the look on your face when he did.

“Sorry.” He said. For the first time ever, Rutger apologized for calling you that.

“I didn’t want Luca and Adam to hate me, so I just started being mean to you in an attempt to get over you.” 

You were very taken aback. With every word that came out of his mouth, you were more and more shocked at his confessions.

“Teasing someone is a pretty shit way to try to get over them.” You said with a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

Rutger nodded and said “Yeah I know, and I am sorry. I never wanted to be mean to you or make you think I didn’t like you, Y/n. I just didn’t know what else to do.” 

“And then Luca started telling me how he wished we got along because he could see us together, but it was already too late at that point. I figured you hated me and there was no coming back from that.” Rutger confessed. 

“I’ve never hated you, Rutger.” You said, causing him to look at you. “Hate is a strong word.”

Rutger smiled at you and you returned the gesture.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a little crush on you too when we met.” You said.

Rutgers eyes widened as you admitted your crush. “Really?” He asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and said “Don’t get too excited, you almost ruined it by being mean to me.” “Almost?” He said, as he took a step towards you.

“Yes, almost. I’m forced to see you almost everyday, how could it have just gone away completely?” You said. 

Rutger shook his head as he said, “I know mine didn’t. I never got over you, Y/n.” 

You looked at him confused. “But what about the other girls?” You asked.

Rutger scrunched his eyebrows together as he asked, “What other girls?” 

“The ones you slept with. Remember, Grano’s truth question?” 

Rutger laughed as he shook his head. “Well, if you would’ve stuck around for the answer, you would’ve heard me say none. I haven’t been with any girls, Y/n.” 

His answer shocked you. You figured he was off with a new girl every weekend and after every game. 

“I didn’t think it would be fair to any of them since I was so into you.” He said.

Pardon?

“I am sorry though, about everything. I know it was a shitty way to go about things, and I apologize for that.” 

You nodded as you gently smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I was never the nicest to you either.” Rutger laughed at your response. “Yeah but I deserved it, you had no reason to be nice to me.”

At least he’s aware.

“So,” He began, as he took another step towards you. “Am I forgiven?” He asked, staring down at you.

You smirked up at him and said “Under one condition.” “Name it.”

“Stop calling me a baby. It really does piss me off.” You said.

Rutger moved one hand to the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“Deal.” And with that, he closed the gap between the two of you. 

Your lips moved in sync as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

The kiss deepened and grew more heated as Rutger turned you guys around so your back was against the bathroom counter. He moved his hands so they were under your thighs and lightly tapped them.

“Jump, baby.” He said against your lips as he pulled back slightly.

Out of force of habit from the past almost year, you moved your head back and glared at him.

“What?” Rutger asked, confused, before he caught on.

“Oh. OH! I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean it like that I-” He stumbled over his words in an attempt to apologize. 

You just laughed in response. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/n. I swear.” He said.

You laughed at him again and said “I know.” Before pulling him back to you and jumping like he asked so he could place you on the counter.

Your make out continued for a few more minutes before there was a loud bang on the door, causing you two to separate.

“TIME’S UP!” You heard someone yell. 

You rolled your eyes at the loud and unexpected noise that caused you two to break apart.

“So…” Rutger said, smirking at you.

“So….” You said back.

“Are we good?” He asked. 

You smiled widely at him. “We are good.” 

You two connected your lips again before he helped you off the counter.

He turned and opened the bathroom door, signaling for you to walk out first.

“M’lady.” He said as you smiled and walked out.

Once you two returned to the group, there was yet another chorus of whistles and cheering going around.

“So, how was your seven minutes?” Luca asked.

You both looked at each other and glared, trying to hold back smiles.

“Terrible. Worst seven minutes of my life.” Rutger responded as you both went back to your spots in the circle.

You caught onto the sarcasm in his voice, you knew he was joking.

“Oh yeah? Your hair says differently Rut.” Johnny said as he motioned to Rutgers hair.

Rutgers hands immediately flew to the top of his head, fixing his messy hair.

Oops.

“That’s some nice lip gloss you got on too, Rutty. When did you get that?” Luca asked him teasingly.

Rut’s hands went from his hair to his lips as he wiped your lipgloss off of him.

Oops again!

“Gross, that’s my little sister.” Adam said.

Rutger shrugged. “This was your guy's idea.” 

Let’s just say after that night, there was no more arguing between you and Rutger. 

You still scowled at Rutger anytime he called you baby for the first few weeks, but he assured you it was a term of endearment, not a tease, and eventually you grew to love his everyday pet name for you. 

Luca almost regretted his little plan to get the two of you together, seeing as now you two could not keep your hands off each other. 

Oh well, it was his dare. 

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