#(genuinely I got my nickname in college from it lol)

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 22.0k ➠ warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking (there’s a frat party), everything i know about hockey is from internet research for this fic i’m sorry for any inaccuracies i tried ➠ genre: fluff, gets quite suggestive (a heavy makeout scene/near sex scene) but no actual smut, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), halloween-themed at the beginning, sungchan’s not a frat boy but he’s like... a frat boy by association ➠ extra info: the ages/relative ages of the members in here are whatever i want them to be, don’t read into it too much. this is a very usamerican take on a college au btw. also i call kunhang ‘hendery’ in here like it’s his government name for a one-line gag bc i think i’m hilarious the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines and thoughts/experiences as a chronically ill person are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines and chronic illness, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds ➠ author’s note: hi so this has been a wip for like a year lol. this one long predates sungchan’s deneofication (and subsequent re-debut in riize), hockey player sungchan just lives in my brain rent free ok. anyway, i hope you like ➠ series masterlist

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24

“Now shoo!” Dr. Son waved the small group of you out of his dimly lit office.

It was Phantasmagorical Phriday, a time-honored tradition going back to your freshman year of university. Dr. Son had been intrigued by the four freshmen who were somehow in his third-year class on Gothic Fiction and actually seemed to “get it.” His “Phantasma Phour” as you dubbed yourselves (a nickname that got quickly worn out, persisting only as the title of your groupchat):

Wong Hendery, who ended up in the class accidentally due to an error on his academic advisor’s part (she had gotten him mixed up with a Wong Henry, a junior Literature major who actually needed to take Dr. Son’s class) and he subsequently changed majors at least three times to your knowledge, so you were genuinely surprised he was graduating on time—he finally settled on Communications;

Jung Sungchan, at the time a promising young rookie hockey player who had now blossomed into your school’s reliable team captain—Biology major, being an athlete meant he could pre-register for classes and he picked Dr. Son’s at random to fulfill a gen ed Literature credit;

Zhong Chenle, an honorary member of both Nu Chi Tau, one of the biggest frats on campus, and the hockey team, as somehow 95% of his social circle were Nu Chi brothers and/or hockey players despite Chenle being neither himself, your best friend and also sometimes you swear a demon sent straight from hell to kill you—Literature major, who bullied you into taking the class; and

You, Chenle’s best friend who used to hate anything and everything Gothic fiction that got bullied into taking it anyway and now adored the genre more than any other—Literature major, who took the last spot in the class on registration day.

Dr. Son would invite you all to monthly extracurricular workshops in his office that built up to this: Phantasmagorical Phriday, a writing competition to see which of the four of you could write the best gothic short story. The stories were actually submitted the prior week, but it was the Friday before Halloween that was dubbed the Phriday in question. The four of you were invited to his office that night after classes (and Sungchan’s hockey practice) to review your pieces: how he thought everyone had improved from last year, discuss the writing process, and to finish off the night, Dr. Son would announce his top two stories. Those in the top two had the chance to send him a persuasive letter about why they should win. They had to be sent to him that night because the next morning, your professor would email the top two individually with the results.

Since this was your last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Dr. Son pretended not to see when Hendery brought out four celebratory White Claws for you all. You still had your warm, unopened, orange-flavored seltzer in your hand as the small group of you left the Literature, Writing, and Foreign Languages building together.

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anything classier for our last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Hendery.” You shook your head. “Ever heard of champagne? Literally any wine?”

“So you’re not gonna shotgun that, Y/N, is what I’m hearing?” Hendery teased as you all stopped under the light post right outside the building.

“Is that a challenge or what, Wong?” You scoffed, handing it back to him. “But no, I’m good.”

Sungchan thankfully cut in and changed the topic of conversation, “So are you going to start writing your letter of reconsideration, Y/N?”

This year’s top two were you and Sungchan, the member of the Phantasma Phour you spoke to the least. Outside of the monthly “workshops” (which at this point with your differing majors were just get-togethers of questionable academic value), you never saw him. You obviously saw Chenle all the time, and despite the fact that you considered him a bit obnoxious, you were sort of friends with Hendery, joining him for lunch if you happened to see him at the student union or at the coffee shop on campus. Sungchan was perfectly nice and all, you just found that you never really talked to him like the other two.

You looked down at your watch, taking a quick inhale when you saw the time. You’d stayed in Dr. Son’s office a lot later than you’d realized.

“Oh, no,” you casually waved off Sungchan’s question, readjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Anyway, see you guys. It was a good four years, I’m glad we got to do this.”

Lifting your hand in a wave of finality to the three men, you departed.

“She’s really not going to submit a letter?” Sungchan asked, still watching after you as your figure faded away in the distance.

“Nope,” Chenle shook his head, reaching for the spare White Claw in Hendery’s hand. “Y/N never does.”

“You didn’t know that?” Hendery questioned the hockey player, holding the drink away from Chenle.

“Why not?”

“She’s not in it to win really.” Chenle lunged for the can as Hendery jerked it away at the last second. “Just wants to make stuff.”

“So she was lying about doing something?”

Hendery and Chenle were now running circles around Sungchan in their game of keep-away with the seltzer.

“No.”

“What do you—” Sungchan sighed, yanking the drink from Hendery’s grasp and holding it high above his own head, well out of either of their reaches. “Hey!”

Now with their attention, the hockey captain kept his arm straight up as he returned to his question, “What are you talking about, Chenle?”

“Y/N does have something pressing right now. If I tell you where she’s probably going will you give me the White Claw?” Chenle bargained.

“You’d exchange your best friend’s location for an orange White Claw? Not even watermelon?” Hendery asked incredulously.

“It’s Sungchan, someone we’ve known for like four years, not some creep off the street who’s going to wear her skin.”

“No, Chenle, you don’t have to tell me that,” Sungchan shook his head, offering the can out for either one to take.

The Literature major was able to snatch it first, jumping up in celebration, “Suck an egg, Hendery!”

“I wouldn’t—” Sungchan’s words were too late though, as Chenle had already popped the tab, and the overly-shaken seltzer exploded all over all three of them.

“Zhong Chenle, I’m going to strangle you, you little weasel!”

“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”

“I would, except you got fucking orange White Claw in my eyes and I’m fucking blind now! Goddamn!”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25

Rolling over in bed the next morning, you let out a big sigh and buried your face in your pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep. Saturday morning. No school, no work. Just you, your bed, and some much-needed sleep.

Then, the obnoxious blaring of your phone came from your nightstand. You groaned, reaching blindly for the object, and barely opening one eye just enough to snooze it. Damn, you really had slept in, to be woken up by your first medication alarm. Well, you weren’t going to die if you took your morning doses fifteen minutes later than normal. You were about to stuff your phone under your pillow when you briefly caught sight of your lockscreen after the alarm disappeared.

Text notification from Jung Sungchan?

Flopping onto your back and bringing your phone with you, you squinted against the harsh light of your screen to make sure you were reading that right. Yep, Sungchan had definitely texted you a few hours ago, separate from the Phantasma Phour chat. At almost 7:00 a.m., too. What the hell?

Curiosity won out over a need to sleep for fourteen more minutes, and you opened the notification.

[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]

You stared blankly at the text, your groggy mind desperately grasping around for any sort of context as to why Jung Sungchan would be texting you that at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Then it struck you like lightning, and you let out an audible “Oh, duh!” as you remembered where you both were last night. Phantasmagorical Phriday. The writing contest. You and Sungchan were the top two. Dr. Son must have sent the email out already, and apparently you had won.

Normally, you wouldn’t check your school email on the weekend until Sunday night, unless you were waiting to hear back from a specific professor—and the Sunday night check was just to see if any of your Monday classes were cancelled. Lord knows you definitely wouldn’t have checked it at seven in the morning on a Saturday. You let out a snort of disbelief as you reread the timestamp on the text. But still, it was nice of him. A good show of sportsmanship, as one would expect from the hockey captain.

You quickly checked your own student email, and did in fact see an email from Dr. Son at the very top with the subject ‘PHINAL PHANTASMAGORICAL PHRIDAY RESULTS.’

‘Y/N and Sungchan:

Thank you again for your submissions. I enjoyed working with everyone these four years.

The winner this year is Y/N. Good job.

Dr. Son.’

An amused smile crept across your face at your professor’s usual blunt email style. But this was also some of the nicest feedback he’d given your writing, even when you had won Phantasmagorical Phriday in the past, or in classes that you’d taken from him over the years. Something about it truly did feel... final.

And so with an odd bittersweetness, you drafted an equally short and blunt email back to your professor.

‘Dr. Son:

Thank you for taking us on these past four years. I will never forget the experience.

Y/L/N Y/N.’

Then finally, you went back to the original reason that you were even doing this.

[you: thanks, sungchan!]

Then, your alarm went off again, making you jump out of your skin. Well, time for your morning meds.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27

A tall figure was nearing the corner table you had claimed in one of the campus coffee shops the following Monday afternoon, and you looked up from your laptop screen, a little surprised at who it was. Jung Sungchan was standing at the end of your table, black flannel over a graphic t-shirt and dark wash jeans, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He had an iced coffee in one hand.

You paused the movie playing on your laptop, taking out both your headphones as you looked up at him inquisitively, “Uh hi, Sungchan.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Are you here to study or something?”

“Mm.” He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Not really. Just grabbing a coffee and saw you. Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Oh, sure. I’m waiting out the storm to leave,” you gestured to the near-constant downpour that had started right after you’d arrived over two hours ago. Noticing that some of Sungchan’s hair and shoulders were damp, you added, “The storm you apparently got caught in without an umbrella.”

“Oh, yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair to push some of it away from where it had been falling into his eyes.

“I don’t mind having some company while I wait.”

To your surprise, instead of sitting across from you, Sungchan plopped himself onto the same bench that you were on, one leg slung over either side so he could face you directly.

You picked up the mug in front of you, your second cup of your drink of choice. You’d gotten a refill after it became clear that the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Sungchan was already a third of the way done with his iced coffee as you blew over your hot drink before taking a small sip. He glanced up at you, and you felt like you were going to choke on the uncomfortable silence. So you took a gamble. Turning in your seat to face him as well, you hiked a knee up onto the bench, bringing your mug with you.

“Do you want to ask me something, Sungchan?”

The hockey player startled, having to catch himself from nearly choking on his coffee. Seems like you were right. Sungchan finally stopped sucking down his drink, setting it down on the table and wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans. “I heard that you never sent in a letter to Dr. Son. Any year you were a top two.”

“Oh, yeah, nah.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“Every year I participated I wanted my work to stand on its own two legs. After the death of the author, that’s all that’s left, right? The work. It has to speak for itself.”

“Oh,” Sungchan nodded, then squinted his eyes, confusion entirely overtaking his features. “Wait, what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know how much Lit Theory you’ve done. Probably not a lot as a Bio major, huh? Death of the author is both literal and metaphorical. Removing what the author meant to do or say with a text from how you actually interpret the text as the reader. It’s a lot easier when they’re actually dead, but the abstract concept is practiced when they’re alive too. It’s… seeing the text as separate from authorial intent. Mind you, it’s only one tool in a literary critic’s arsenal, but I liked it for our Gothic fiction class. All the authors we read in that class, they’d been gone for a while, we had no way to know what they really meant when they wrote all that stuff. And it didn’t really matter for our purposes. All we did have was what they wrote, and that was enough for me. So the same should be enough for whoever reads the stuff I write. Even if it’s just Dr. Son.”

“Huh.”

“Though I guess I just explained myself a little, oops,” you laughed at yourself, taking another sip from your steaming mug. “I’m getting less and less mysterious by the second, aren't I?”

“Chenle made it sound like you didn’t care about winning,” Sungchan asked, cheek in hand.

You arched an eyebrow at this. “You asked Chenle about me?”

“W-Well you left so fast after we saw Dr. Son, and you two are you know...”

“Oh he’s my best friend,” you clarified for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in your life. “And while others may use any litany of swears for him and Hendery calls him a little weasel, I prefer ‘actual demon sent from Hell to kill me.’”

“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“He pushes me out of my comfort zone. In a good way, most of the time.”

“Got it. Then what do you do for him? If he’s your yang…”

“I’m entertainment?” You snorted, taking another sip of your drink. After setting it back down, you answered more sincerely, “I’m kidding. Sometimes it feels like that but I did ask him one time a couple years ago, when he was tipsy enough that I believed the words coming out of his mouth but not so drunk that it was unintelligible. ‘A safe place.’ And since then… I can see it in us. That’s my yin to him.”

He smiled softly at you. “That’s... really nice.”

“Sorry, what were you asking me before that?”

“Oh, uh— Chenle said you really didn’t care about winning Dr. Son’s contest, you just wanted to make stuff? That’s why you didn’t submit a letter.”

“Generally, sure. Winning would’ve been great, but I didn’t write what I thought Dr. Son wanted. I took all of his feedback with a grain of salt. Took stuff that I liked from him, took stuff I liked from other profs I had. Mixed and matched to make something that was mine.” You pressed your lips together, then leaned forward like you were about to tell him a secret, “I didn’t live for Phantasmagorical Phriday, Sungchan. You do know that, right?”

“Wow,” he blinked, seeming a bit disoriented. “I’ve never really thought about… you like that.”

“Well to be fair to you, you only ever knew me there and in Dr. Son’s class. Makes it hard not to think of me only through that lens. All you know about me is that I presumably like Gothic fiction and I’m a Lit major, right?”

“Right.”

“So what do you think I was doing here before you showed up?”

“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, turning your laptop screen to show the paused movie to him, “I was watching Pacific Rim.”

His jaw literally dropped, and you felt the need to save him at least a little. Grabbing a book from your bag, you held it up, “I did come here initially to finish reading this new mystery novel I just got, but then the storm came and I had nothing else to do after I was done with the book.”

“But still… you’re so…”

“I have interests outside the one class we took together?”

“Smart,” he finished, an absolutely adorable expression of wonder across his face.

You weren’t expecting that, surprised giggles bubbling up out of you as you felt yourself growing warm under his awestruck gaze.

“Anyway, your turn,” you tapped his knee with your book before putting it back in your bag.

“For what?”

“To expand my horizons of you. All I know about you is that you’re the hockey captain, and a Bio major who took a gothic fiction class one time like three years ago. Show me you’re a multifaceted individual, too.”

“Uhm, that’s about it.”

“Oh come on, Sungchan.”

“No really, if I’m not on the ice, I’m in class; if I’m not in class, I’m with my team; and if I’m not with my team, I’m studying.”

“You’re here, right now,” you pointed out. “Last I checked I’m not on your hockey team, and we’re not studying. You have to do one thing that’s not for school or hockey. My thing was just watching Pacific Rim this one time, remember?”

“Alright…” he paused to think, fingers tapping along his thighs. “I used to play the piano.”

“Past tense, but I’ll accept it. When did you stop?”

“High school? Around when piano lessons and hockey practice started conflicting.”

“And you chose hockey?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound judgmental. You really were just curious, trying to understand him.

“Actually, the choice was made for me.” He held his right hand out in front of you, and it was then that you saw his pinky finger was unnaturally crooked as he pointed to the digit. “I broke it in a game without even realizing it. Bruises and stiffness sometimes are normal so me and my parents didn’t know anything was up until weeks later when I was fucking up all the notes at my piano lessons because it still hurt. By the time I finally saw a doctor and got a splint on it, it set up wrong. All dexterity for piano out the window. Hockey on the other hand… guys have done a lot more with a lot less.”

You couldn’t help but curiously run a gentle fingertip over the crook in his pinky. “Does it hurt at all? Now?”

“Not really.” He went to bend and flex the fingers of his right hand, and you saw how the fifth finger didn’t curl up as much as the others. “It’s just a lot stiffer. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”

He brought his left hand up and wiggled the fingers on that hand. “Besides, I’m a lefty anyway.”

“So—apologies if this sounds like a stupid question to you, I don’t know anything about hockey—are there like, different hockey sticks for left-handed and right-handed players?”

Sungchan immediately broke into snickers, and you set down your mug to cross your arms over your chest indignantly.

“Hey, I didn’t laugh at you for not knowing what death of the author was—”

“I wasn’t making fun of you, I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth. “That was just… too cute. Uhm yes, there are lefty and righty sticks.”

You had to bite down your bottom lip to not smile at him calling you cute, and instead keep up your ruse of being offended. “I feel patronized.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was still a hint of a giggle in his tone, and you felt your self-righteous façade slip away as he continued, “You should come to a game, then, if you really want to broaden your horizons. The season just started. First home game is this Thursday, actually. 7:00 p.m. and students get free admission with your student ID.”

“Thursday?”

“Fridays are for basketball, Saturdays are for football.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You don’t go to those games either, do you?”

“Oh no, did I make it obvious?” You asked sarcastically.

“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.

Outside the window visible past Sungchan, the rain had let up a few minutes ago, and you briefly glanced over at your laptop for the time. Shit, your next alarm was going to be going off soon. If you left now, you should be home at roughly the right time for your next dose.

Clicking your tongue, you started packing up your things, “Well, looks like the rain’s finally let up enough to allow me safe passage. That’s my cue.”

“Oh.” The hockey player with you looked over his shoulder at the newly sunny day outside before turning back to watch you put your things away.

“Are you heading out too?” You nodded to his empty cup.

“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”

“Guess this is where we part ways then.”

“Um, you didn’t say if you were going. To the game.”

You tucked your chin to your chest to hide your smitten smile as you put your laptop in your bag. Typically just asking for the details would’ve been taken for a yes, but Sungchan wanted extra confirmation. This boy wasn’t good for your heart, truly.

Turning back to him, you gave him a firm and nearly business-like nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

A bright grin lit up his features. “Okay! Great! Uhm, feel free to bring some friends, I know just sitting in the stands by yourself might be lonely.”

“I’ll see if I can drag somebody else out. It’ll be a tall order, though. Literature majors, you know, we prefer our Shakesperean poetry readings.”

“Oh, well—”

“I’m kidding,” you laughed and stood then, slinging your tote onto your shoulder. “Honestly, have you seen Chenle at a rager? Boy can drink twice his body weight I swear. He shouldn’t, but he can.”

Before you could reach for your cup and saucer to buss your place, the hockey captain spoke up, “I’ll take care of your mug, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sungchan! I’ll see you Thursday then.”

“Bye…” Sungchan trailed off, watching the door long after it had closed behind you.

He didn’t actually have any homework to do, and scrolled on his phone for a few minutes to make sure you were out of the area before leaving himself. He grabbed his long-empty plastic cup and your mug. His went in the trash, and as he went to put yours up with the other dishes and trays, his eyes were caught by the iridescent glitters left behind on the rim by your lip gloss.

[you: hey what are you doing thursday at 7:00?]

[chenle: depends on what weird poetry reading you’re trying to drag me to]

[you: not this time. Sungchan’s hockey game?]

[chenle: you want to go to a sporting event?? why????]

[you: i told him i’d go please don’t make me go by myself]

[chenle: did you offer to go or did he ask you to come?]

[you: he asked me to? i guess?]

[chenle: haha yeah fuck no i’m not going with you]

[you: why not????????]

[chenle: a guy invited you to one of his games? yeah no way am i coming with you]

[you: what difference does that make? you’re seriously going to make me go to a hockey game by myself?]

[chenle: i don’t know how to tell you this gently so: he wants to fuck you]

[you: bro???]

[chenle: especially hockey? caveman brain is activated, he wants to show off how big and strong he is for you over the other males]

[you: damn can’t believe i just blinked and woke up in 200 BC]

[chenle: i’m warning you, only go if you’re ready for the consequences. i.e., that]

[you: so you’re not coming with me]

[chenle: no <3]

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30

Your chronically early self had gotten there as soon as the doors opened to spectators in order to scope out the perfect spot for yourself. Somewhere not too close to any speakers, where you could still see what was going on, hopefully somewhere Sungchan could maybe see you, but you could make a quick escape if need be. A lot of parameters, hence the need to be early. That meant that you got to watch the visiting team warm up first, and now your school’s team was warming up before the game. Finally the stands started filling up, and you had to do a double-take at the newest figure entering.

“Zhong Chenle, you lying little bitch!” You cursed out your best friend who was approaching you.

He immediately went to defend himself as he plopped down beside you, “Look, I told you I wasn’t going with you, not that I wasn’t going at all. Come on, Lit major.”

He finished off with a solid knock on your head, which didn’t hurt all that much through the beanie you were wearing, but you still slapped his arm away with a glare.

“Are you sure you want to live until graduation day? I can’t tell sometimes.”

“Half the team are Nu Chi guys,” Chenle explained his being there, then waved at one of the players skating by, 23, who gave a salute back. “Jeno.”

“Oh.” You belatedly waved too, but your friend had already turned back to warming up.

Chenle then gave you the run-down on all your friends and acquaintances’ numbers as he spotted them.

“Goalie. Sicheng, 7.” He just blocked a shot from a familiar number, 23. “Already told you, 23 is Jeno. Right wing.”

“Does he always suck?”

“Here’s Ten, number 10. Right defense. He’s never told me which came first, his nickname or his jersey number.”

Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.

“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.

“66, Donghyuck, center alternate.” His also went in.

“24, that’s Yangyang, left wing—and a miss!”

“This doesn’t bode well that so many of our players apparently kind of suck.” You muttered to yourself, well aware that Chenle was no longer listening to you.

Finally, the tallest of the team was skating up to take a shot. “And there’s your guy, Y/N. Number 27, Jung Sungchan, left defense, captain, your dreamboat—”

“If you don’t shut up—”

“Oh! All net!”

“Isn’t that a basketball—”

“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”

“Yep, same ones for concerts,” you confirmed, reaching into your purse for them. You hadn’t been able to take your full tote bag into the school sporting event, so you had to condense the essentials into your smaller purse.

“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah, remember how half the team are Nu Chi guys?”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”

“Here they come!”

Whipping around to face the same direction he was looking, you saw a horde of about ten to fifteen guys storming the rink, practically shaking the audience section. They were all donned in blue and orange, your university’s colors, various hockey or Nu Chi merch and paraphernalia, and you would’ve absolutely bet money that at least three of them had Nu, Chi, and Tau symbols painted across each of their chests under their shirts. Chenle leapt up to greet them all, the volume of the area immediately rising tenfold at least.

You recognized most of the Nu Chi frat brothers, they were mutual friends or acquaintances of yours through Chenle over the years, and there were even some familiar graduated faces. Lee Taeyong was the first to pick up on your presence, squeezing past Jisung—a new pledge that had glommed onto Chenle in particular—to plop down behind your seat.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Taeyong asked you with a tilted head. “Not exactly a good place for you, is it?”

Taeyong was frat president for your first two years of college and his last two. You had an absolute disaster at a Nu Chi party in your freshman year that he was witness to. Ever since then, when you would see him in passing at other lowkey (or as lowkey as frat functions could get) Nu Chi events that Chenle took you to during those two years, you always got the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on you during them.

“Could be asking you the same thing, Taeyong,” you countered, fully turning around in your seat to chat with the man. “Didn’t you graduate two years ago? You don’t have anything better to do on a Thursday night? Like your taxes or something?”

“Us old-timers who peaked in college like to come back and re-live our glory days vicariously for the first home game,” he entertained your jibe, making you giggle. “And somebody’s got to be these kids’ DD. They always go at it too hard after the first game. Win or lose.”

Johnny, another graduated Nu Chi brother, spoke up then, eyes laser-focused on you, “So Chenle’s finally dragged you out to a game, Y/N?”

You immediately looked at your friend with wide eyes, knowing what the answer was, and exactly what reaction said answer would garner. Chenle, on the other hand, seemed all too thrilled to join in, turning to face you with his hands on his hips and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring Y/N. She actually didn’t know I was coming at all. I found her here all on her own,” he announced to all the guys, who were hanging on to every word he said. If literally anything else were happening, you might’ve laughed at how they were all wrapped around his finger.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re interested in hockey,” Jungwoo, a junior who you’d shared a couple literature classes with, said curiously.

You sighed, giving Chenle a frank look before admitting, “Jung Sungchan invited me.”

They exploded with various hoots, hollers, whoops, and whistles.

With a shake of your head, you turned back around to look back at the players on the ice, knowing full well that there was nothing you could do alleviate—or even really participate in—the absolute chaos that was happening behind you.

Eventually, the game started. Taeyong, who had moved to sit on your other side from Chenle, quietly explained the basics of what was going on to you: positions, plays, scoring, why the referee made certain calls. Chenle was caught between cheering along with the other Nu Chi guys and rattling off hyper-specific stats on individual players to you, so you were truly grateful to have Taeyong giving you your “hockey for dummies” tips and tidbits throughout.

You kept your eyes on number 27, as Chenle had pointed him out to you earlier. The gear made it somewhat difficult for you to really recognize any distinguishing features about Sungchan himself except maybe his height, made even greater by the skates he was wearing. But as much as the intellectual side of you might’ve hated to admit it, there was definitely some part of you that very much enjoyed watching him play; that got some kind of thrill every time somebody tried to check him and he didn’t budge—or when he checked somebody and they most definitely did budge.

Before you knew it, all three periods were over, and you were jumping to your feet along with the others, cheering wildly. Your school won by a landslide.

“Oh, they’re going to get plastered,” Taeyong murmured from beside you fondly.

All of you had been in the cheering section milled around in the ice rink lobby waiting for the team to get out of the locker room.

“That was fun,” you declared to Chenle as the two of you stood off to the side from the larger group of loud Nu Chi brothers.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were listening to a word I said.”

“Because you were telling me sports stats, Chenle, I’m surprised my brain didn’t start bleeding out of my ears.”

“Well I’m surprised your nose wasn’t bleeding watching your dreamboat Jung Sungchan beat up all those other guys,” Chenle teased. “200 BC called, they want their cavewoman back—”

You lunged at him, managing to get an arm around his throat in the beginnings of a questionably friendly chokehold, “I’m going to kill you, you little—”

“No murder in the rink!” Came the chastising voice of Johnny Suh from afar, and you reluctantly let him go.

The players started streaming out of the locker room soon after, and you nervously scanned the crowd for Sungchan. Chenle was easily dragged into the chaos of everyone celebrating, leaving you standing off to the side waiting.

Finally, you spotted him. Sungchan was wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and black hoodie with your school’s name embroidered across the front, his hair a bit mussed up. He was deep in conversation with Sicheng, brow furrowed. The goalie’s features were similarly serious as they gestured to each other. You stayed put, not wanting to interrupt. Taeyong had mentioned that Sicheng was sort of like a co-captain, you guessed they might be doing something important.

Then you’d suddenly made eye contact with Sicheng, who was facing you. He gave you a casual head nod, and said something to Sungchan you couldn’t quite make out. The captain whipped around, a bright smile coming to his face as soon as his eyes landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a small wave and smile back.

Sungchan quickly ended his conversation with Sicheng, making his way over to where you were standing by a wall.

“Hey, Y/N,” he was still smiling down at you, his eyes practically glittering even in the harsh fluorescents of the lobby. “So you really made it out.”

“I said I would.” You fidgeted with the straps of your bag.

“And…?”

You tilted your head, “And?”

“What did you think? You know, are your horizons super broad now or something?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His phrasing was funny, but also remembering how he played and was now giving you his undivided attention admittedly made your chest flutter.

“It was good, yeah. I had fun,” you confirmed. “You uhm, you played really good. I think.”

“Thanks,” Sungchan scratched at the back of his neck, and you swore the tips of his ears were pink, but that could’ve just been the cold. “Did you drive yourself?”

“Walked, my apartment is close.”

“Uh, so, we all go out to a bar after games usually. It’s kind of a sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday, but I’d really like for you to come. I’ll buy you a dr—”

���I’m really sorry, Sungchan, but I can’t. I’d love to, but…” You trailed off, wracking your brain for some concise way to explain why he couldn’t buy you a drink.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sungchan assured you, and you winced at the way the hopeful smile fell from his face.

An awkward silence descended over the two of you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, desperately trying to think of something to say to gloss over your rejecting his offer. You didn’t want to end the conversation on such a sour note, nor did you want to leave him just yet either. Stealing a glance at the clock above you on the wall, however, you knew that you’d need to be going soon anyway.

The hockey player was the one who ended up breaking the silence, “Can I walk you home? It’s late for you to be out by yourself.”

A relieved smile overtook your features, and you hoped he could see the sincerity in it, “Sure, thank you. Let me let Chenle know he’s relieved of his man-shaped friend duties for the night, and we can go.”

You got on your tiptoes to look around for your friend, finally spotting him in a headlock by Jeno, with Yangyang giving him a noogie. They all seemed to be laughing, so it didn’t look too much like bullying that you felt the need to intervene.

“You know, I’ll just text him, actually,” you chuckled, bringing out your phone to do just that.

“Man-shaped friend duties?” Sungchan questioned as the automatic doors parted for the two of you.

“His words, not mine,” you snorted. “But you know, making sure a woman doesn’t walk places by herself at night, that kind of stuff. Having a man just with her makes her safer, as fucked up as that is. Chenle corrected it to be man-shaped since he’s not the manly protective type.”

“I see.”

“But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties for tonight, Sungchan.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to stuff them back in. Friend. God, that was absolutely not what was happening here and you knew it. Chenle’s previous texts flashed across your mind. You obviously knew why Sungchan would’ve wanted to invite you to his game, and you said yes purposefully. Friend. Foot, meet mouth.

Sungchan blinked down at you, but seemed to take it in stride, “Of course, Y/N. Anytime you need a man-shaped person at your side, just call me up. I’ll bring my hockey stick.”

He patted his gear bag that was slung over his shoulder, making you giggle.

“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”

It was a short walk to your apartment, and you and Sungchan mostly talked about the game. You asked him a couple questions that Taeyong hadn’t covered during it— which Chenle might’ve, except you had tuned him out. And as you came to a stop at your front door, you didn’t yet fish your keys from your bag.

“How often do you have away games?” You asked.

“They’re usually about half,” Sungchan shrugged. “It’s a bit annoying missing classes, and the bus is kind of rank on the trip back.”

“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.

“But they’re always a lot of fun.”

“So, uhm, when’s your next home game?”

His face brightened as he seemed to realize what exactly you were asking, “Next week. Same time.”

“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.

“Cool,” he echoed.

You looked up at Sungchan, catching his eyes for a heart stopping moment. Both of you were standing on your welcome mat, he was close enough that you could catch a faint whiff of the detergent from his clothes—a college athlete with freshly washed clothes? You might already be in love—and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. You had the urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him—

A garish, blaring ringing going off interrupted your split-second pros and cons weighing that had been going on. Sungchan startled at the noise, reminding you very much of a baby moose in the moment. You groaned as you reached into your bag for your phone.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you hissed under your breath as you snoozed the alarm that was going off on there. Once it was quiet, you looked back up at the man with you sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

He joked, “Curfew?”

You laughed lightly, “No, just a reminder for something I have to do after I get home. It’s fine.”

“Well, before you go do that, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Nu Chi and the team are hosting a joint Halloween party this year, and I’d really like it if I could see you there.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, people will probably start showing up after like ten, eleven. It’s at the Nu Chi house, theirs is bigger than ours.”

“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.

“I know this is last minute, so I get if you have other plans or something.”

“I… can probably swing by for a bit, yeah,” you nodded.

“Great!” Sungchan beamed. “Oh, it is a costume party, by the way.”

“Costume?” You arched a brow. “What’ll you being going as? And please don’t say hockey player.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Definitely not… that would be lame…”

“You were planning on going as a hockey player, weren’t you?”

“Me and Mark have been putting all our spare time into planning this thing, I haven’t had any time to think about a costume.”

“Well you’ve given me 24-hour notice for a costume, so this is your 24-hour notice for one too. When I find you at the Nu Chi house tomorrow, I do not want to see a hockey jersey, Jung Sungchan. Any sports player is off-limits, understand?” You poked his chest with finality.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.

Just then, your alarm went off again, and this time you jumped out of your skin. Apparently, another 5 minutes had elapsed. With a sigh, you reached into your bag for your keys.

“I should let you go do that thing,” Sungchan chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sungchan,” you unlocked your front door. “See you tomorrow.”

Sitting at your kitchen table a couple minutes later, you were looking down at the vitals displayed on the screen of your blood pressure cuff.

“Jung Sungchan…” you muttered to yourself as you added the reading to your digital record, noting how the line graph jumped up with the new data.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. You two were grabbing a quick lunch between classes, and doing an obligatory catch-up on how your short but sweet walk with Sungchan went last night. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

You threw a fry from his plate at him, “It wasn’t like that!”

He ducked, letting it sail by his head and hit the wall behind him.

“Then what was it like?”

“It was more like a big puppy that I couldn’t say no to and—”

You were cut off by loud gagging noises from your friend, and went to kick him under the table, but missed and hit his chair leg instead. He still got the message, quieting down to let you continue.

“I told him I’d be able to just pop in for a bit. I’ll be in and out before it’ll get too bad.”

“Famous last words...”

“Hold on, LeLe,” you grabbed your friend’s arm to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the Nu Chi Tau frat house.

Taking another look into your tote bag, you made sure once again that you had everything you could possibly need tonight. Medications, snacks, water bottle, ear plugs, the usual. After closing the snaps on the bag, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your costume. Generic witch, it was the last thing the costume store had in your size that wasn’t garishly scary. You understood well and good how college Halloween parties worked: you had to look hot, not terrifying. Not to mention that those horror show costumes were also much pricier than your “Sexy Witch” one.

“You look cute, Y/N,” Chenle reassured you, readjusting your witch hat for you. “Jung Sungchan won’t know what hit him.”

Chenle, on the other hand, was an almost scarily realistic zombie. If you hadn’t spent an ungodly amount of time hanging out on his bathroom counter this afternoon watching him apply the SFX makeup himself, you would’ve thought he had hired a professional makeup artist to do it. He’d always gone ham on Halloween since you two were kids, ever since he figured out how to make a Transformers costume out of cardboard boxes in primary school. You usually participated in partner costumes with him, but you really didn’t want him to make you a gross-looking zombie tonight.

“Thanks.” You gave him as confident a smile as you could muster.

Resecuring your grip on your go bag, you started up the walkway to the house with your friend.

You had been able to faintly hear the thumping bass of the music from outside, but once inside, you were almost immediately hit by a wall of music. Just inside the front door you were faced with a mass of people in bright costumes, flashing lights, corny Halloween decorations of cobwebs, spiders, ghosts, and pumpkins all over the walls.

Chenle looked over at you expectantly, “Y/N?”

“I couldn’t find my concert earplugs, only my noise canceling. I won’t be able to hear anybody unless they’re shouting at me if I put those in,” you replied, having to raise your voice to make sure he heard you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” He sighed and grabbed your elbow. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot in the house then.”

You gave him a thumbs up and bright grin, already feeling your ears acclimate to the loudness. You could totally do this. It was one night, and you were just going to see Sungchan for a bit then go. Pop in then back out, just like you said.

You didn’t have to wait long to spot Sungchan. Chenle had barely tugged you into the next room over from the small foyer when a familiar head was visible over the crowd, his bright smile focused on you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sungchan grinned down at you. He was dressed in a suit and tie, what you were guessing was probably his only set, and his hair was parted to one side, styled off of his face. The tie had already been loosened, and the tuck of his dress shirt wasn’t so crisp.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled up at him, amazed that you could hear anything over both the music and now your heart beating so loudly in your ears.

“So you did find a costume.”

“Oh, yeah,” you messed with the hem of your skirt. “Last one at the shop.”

“You look great.” He was still beaming down at you, and you could feel your skin growing warmer. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“Thanks. Uhm, so what are you? Funeral director?”

“What? No, I’m—” His sentence stopped in its tracks as he looked down at the front of his suit jacket. He started patting his empty breast pocket, then other jacket pockets, then pants pockets, then looked around on the floor. “Fuck.”

“What?” You looked around under your feet, but weren’t able to see anything other than the usual party debris. “Did you lose something?”

Sungchan looked back up at you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was about to say that I’m Mulder from the X-Files. But I’ve apparently lost my fake FBI badge. So it looks like I’m a funeral director now.”

You giggled. “Maybe you can be Mulder when he retires and buys a funeral home.”

“Yeah, the perfect costume. Won’t take too long to explain to anybody, they’ll get it immediately,” he laughed.

“Hey, I’m just glad you didn’t wear a jersey.”

“I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

“Oh, have you seen Chenle’s makeup by the—” But when you turned around to gesture to your friend, you found that he had disappeared, leaving you and the hockey captain all alone.

“Chenle?” Sungchan asked with a tilted head. “I didn’t even realize he was here yet.”

You shook your head fondly at your friend’s antics. Well, you’d have to thank him later.

“He must have gone to get a drink or something. Either way, it seems I’ve been abandoned.”

“Well, you can come hang out with me and some of the guys, if you want?” He offered.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, readjusting your bag to make sure it was pulled in tight to your body.

Sungchan led you through the frat house with a hand on the small of your back, and you snuck a glance up at him when he went to greet someone who had called his name as you passed by. He kept you tucked into his side as he slowed to give the guy a friendly slap on the shoulder. As soon as Sungchan had stopped to say hello, two more people appeared seemingly from nowhere, eagerly greeting him as well. You faintly recognized one, Jisung, a new Nu Chi pledge. He’d been at the hockey game you went to, and always found Chenle at Nu Chi events that you tagged along to. You looked up at Sungchan’s animated, handsome face again as he continued talking.

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan’s voice suddenly pulled you into the conversation. You snapped your focus down from his face to the other three that were in front of you, and realized that they all definitely knew that you’d been staring.

“Oh, hi.” You gave the three boys a nervous smile.

“Y/N, this is Jisung, Shotaro, and Renjun. Jisung and Shotaro are Nu Chi pledges, Renjun’s a sophomore brother, and he’s—you’re a Literature major, right, Renjun?”

“Yes.” One of them nodded.

“Renjun’s a Literature major too, Y/N,” Sungchan finished the introduction.

“Cool, cool,” you nodded. It had been Shotaro that called Sungchan over in the first place, you were pretty sure.

“Anyway, thanks for the offer, guys, but I already promised Hyuck I would, so we’ve got to go.”

Sungchan ushered you away to the tune of a chorus of disappointed groans from the three boys, and you wracked your brain to see if you could recall hearing any sort of proposition from them. But nope, between the loud music and your prior lack of attention to the conversation, you had nothing.

“What did they want?” You gave up and finally asked Sungchan.

“Beer pong. Hope you don’t mind that I declined. I’ve already had a couple and am not looking to get wasted quite yet.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you shook your head. Thank god you didn’t have to deal with that yet. “Not really my thing anyway. Terrible hand-eye coordination.”

Sungchan seemed about to say something when someone walked by you with an exceptionally pungent cologne. The whiff shot directly to your head like a bullet, the sharp pain making you wince and hiss. It took everything in you not to cover your nose like Edward Cullen and instead shift to breathing through your mouth for a few moments.

“Y/N? You okay?” Sungchan’s voice was clearly concerned.

The sharp pain was gone just a couple moments after it had registered, and you opened your eyes up again, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, don’t know what that was.”

“Okay, good.” He squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to your back and continuing your trek through the Nu Chi house.

You and Sungchan finally made it to a room adjacent to the main living room, where there were a couple of beat-up old couches and lots of Nu Chi Tau paraphernalia. The bass of the music playing in the next room over would occasionally make the picture frames and plaques on the walls rattle, and you could hear every word of the songs crystal clear, even though the room that you were in was packed to the brim with partygoers as well. Sungchan stopped you at a group of people gathered around one of the couches, tapping the shoulders of two of them who had their backs to you. Donghyuck and Hendery turned around, immediately parting to make room for the both of you in the group upon seeing you.

Almost everyone in the group was familiar to you either as friends or acquaintances. Your social circle was big thanks to Chenle, who was friends with practically the entire hockey team and Nu Chi house, despite being a member of neither. But now you didn’t have your best friend at your side, just Sungchan and your tote bag, both of which you were keeping close to you.

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Hendery grinned, pulling you into a one-armed hug of greeting. “Damn, it really is you!”

“Yeah, I’m a witch, not a ghost, Hendery,” you retorted jokingly. He was dressed as Prince Eric, if you weren’t mistaken.

“Well, when Sungchan said you were coming, some of us were a bit... skeptical.”

Someone dressed as Venom cut in from Hendery’s other side sharply, “No, I believe you said ‘never in a million fucking years, loverboy.’”

The rest of the group erupted in tipsy snickers and ‘ooh’s, and you felt Sungchan jostle a little as someone had presumably given him a teasing shove.

“Alright, guys. You can cut it out now,” Sungchan spoke over them authoritatively. He then looked down to you, features softening. “Sorry. Anyway, this is Donghyuck, he’s on the team and in Nu Chi—”

He pointed to the boy right next to him, wearing a very classic vampire costume splattered with a little bit of fake blood or fruit punch (you couldn’t tell in the poor lighting), and you wondered if he had also gone to a Halloween store last-minute like you. You knew him both from the game, and from a couple times you’d seen him with Chenle outside of frat or hockey events.

“Mark, frat president and he’s on the hockey team—” He was next to Donghyuck, dressed as Spiderman. You were already familiar with Mark, both from the game, and a group project in a class last year. You wondered if Mark remembered that.

“Ten, hockey and Nu Chi—” Ten was reclined on the couch, a top hat that had presumably been on his head earlier now resting on his propped up knee. Between that and his eyepatch, he clearly was dressed as some character that you couldn’t identify in the moment. You knew Ten outside of hockey, the frat, or even Chenle. He was a Lit major, so you had shared classes and study groups over the years. He raised a friendly hand in greeting.

“Sicheng, my co-captain and he’s in Nu Chi, too—” He was on the couch with Ten, sequestered to one corner as his teammate was taking up most of the space with his legs. Sicheng was dressed up as an angel, fake wings, little halo, and all. And you knew Sicheng through Ten, they’d been roommates since freshman year and could often be found together around campus. He gave you a nod of familiarity.

“Dejun, Nu Chi—” Sungchan had finally reached the man who was dressed as Venom.

“And you of course, unfortunately, know Hendery, Nu Chi.”

“Oh, boo, Sungchan,” Hendery stuck his tongue out at the captain.

You smiled and nodded a little bit at everyone else, but you were finding it hard to concentrate with the music in the background. Did it really need to be that loud?

“Y/N?” The sound of your name snapped your focus up, and you looked around for the source.

A few of the guys had gone back to their own conversations. Sungchan was looking down at you, head tilted inquisitively. Presumably he had been to the one to say your name.

“Oh, sorry,” you tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it was getting harder and harder to even articulate yourself with all the stimulation. “The music...”

“Oh!” Sungchan perked up at this. “Do you want to go dance?”

He was offering a hand out to you, and you stared down at it, mouth opening and closing as your brain felt like it was moving through sludge. You quite literally could not process what that string of words actually meant for a good second, and then it took even longer for you to even tie together the right way for you to respond. Cognitive fatigue. Oh this was not good. You squeezed your eyes shut, then open.

You again gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m kind of light-headed right now. Could you get me something to drink?”

His features immediately turned concerned. “Of course. Do you need to sit down or a ride h—”

“Can you just get me a drink?” Your brain was stuck in a perpetual loop now that it had locked onto one task. It took all of your energy just to regulate your tone enough to keep your voice (hopefully) as sweet as possible, despite the fact that you had cut him off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed your upper arm reassuringly before taking off.

Your eyes were fixated on the spot where he had just been, your vision seeming to continuously zoom in and past your head. Squeezing your eyes shut once more, you took a deep breath through your mouth to try to recenter yourself. But it didn’t help any. Your head felt like a balloon that someone was overinflating, and you knew exactly what was coming next. You swallowed thickly, taking a second to look through the crowd. Nope, you couldn’t wait for Sungchan. Not like you could even verbalize much of anything right now. You had to go take your medication.

So you hurried into the crowd, clutching your tote bag to your chest like your life depended on it—which it really did. Mumbling ‘excuse me’s to everyone you shouldered, bumped into, or stepped on the toes of, you finally made it to a door that you were pretty sure was a bathroom. You tried the handle first, and when it gave in, you still knocked as you opened it, just in case. It was miraculously empty. Maybe there really was a God. Then, the balloon started to deflate, the pressure in your head inverted, becoming a harsh, squeezing pain instead. Nope, nope, definitely not a God. Or at least not a benevolent one.

You locked the door behind you with clumsy fingers and shuffled over to the sink. The countertop was in good enough condition for you to toss your bag up there and start rooting around through it. Bottle after bottle after bottle, then you finally secured the right two. You shook out a pill from one, then a pill from the other. The lights above the mirror were becoming more insufferable by the second. You cracked open the fresh bottle of water you had stored in your bag too, and knocked both pills back in one big gulp.

Tossing the water back into your bag, you could fucking finally flip the switch and turn the lights in the bathroom off. After feeling your way along the wall, you eventually found the bathtub, and sat yourself down. The music was somewhat muffled in here, and you figured this was going to be the darkest room in the whole Nu Chi house. Right now, your plan was to wait in here for your medication to kick in and hopefully stop this migraine before it really got going. Then you could make your great escape, and send Sungchan some bullshit apology text later. After tossing your witch hat to the ground vaguely beside your bag, you gently rested your head against the cool tile of the shower with a sigh. Chenle was right, you shouldn’t have come. Cynically, you thought that you should have timed it. See how long you lasted before you got a migraine. You’d be surprised if that was even 15 minutes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sungchan returned to the group with your requested drink in hand and another for himself, frowning when he immediately noticed your absence. “Hey, where’d Y/N go?”

“Oh, shit, uh…” Mark looked around with a baffled look on his face. “No clue dude, she was just here a second ago.”

“I’m going to go find her. Here.” He shoved both drinks into Hendery’s hands.

“Sungchan, come on, take a hint, man,” Donghyuck sighed, patting the taller boy’s shoulder sympathetically.

“What?”

“She asked you to get her something to drink and then slipped away when nobody was looking.”

“Y/N’s not like that.”

“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”

“No, she hasn’t been feeling well all night. I think. I’m going to go look for her.”

“So you’re admitting that you make her physically ill.”

“Dude, you’re just asking to get your shit rocked, you know that, right?” Ten warned him.

“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”

Mark cut him off, “Hyuck, you’re on your own if Sungchan decides to fuck your shit up. I don’t care if you’re my little, I’m not—”

“Oh, wahhh, my big strong big won’t protect me.”

“Christ, I swear he’s only had like four shots and a couple…”

His friends’ voices quickly faded into the din of the party as Sungchan pushed through the crowd. He couldn’t spot you, but found maybe the next best thing.

“Hey, Chenle.” He grabbed him by the elbow, turning him away from the arm wrestling competition between Jeno and Yangyang that he was spectating. Or, he at least hoped this was Chenle, it was a bit hard to tell with the zombie makeup.

“Hey, Romeo!” Chenle greeted him jovially, punching him in the shoulder over-zealously. Okay, definitely him.

“Have you seen Y/N? In the past like, five minutes or so?”

“You lost her?” The zombie asked angrily, cheerful mood immediately soured.

“Uh, yes? Sorry?”

“No, I’m not pissed at you,” he shook his head at Sungchan’s apology. “You go check the bathrooms, I’ll look outside. Don’t bother calling her, she’s not going to pick up.”

“What’s—”

But Chenle was already gone.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting in there for, but you could feel some of the overstimulation from the party beginning to slide off of you. Which could be either a good or bad thing. Cognitive fatigue was usually a prodrome and postdrome for you. Regaining some clarity could either mean that your medication was working and the migraine was going away, or you were about to enter the proper migraine phase. The fact that the pain hadn’t gone away was worrying. But at least it was dark, and relatively quiet. Oh, quiet... you could put in your earplugs now too.

Just as you had gone to grab for your bag, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You froze. Shit.

“Occupied!” You yelled out hesitantly to them, wincing at the loudness of your own voice. Okay, ow.

The person knocked again, harder.

“Seriously! Busy in here! Puking my brains out!” You yelled even louder, hoping they got the fucking idea this time. There was no way you wanted to have to actually get up and deal with a drunk partygoer that needed to piss and/or puke.

“Y/N? That you?” A familiar voice came through the door. “It’s Sungchan, can I come in?”

“Oh, sure, hold on.” You clambered out of the tub as carefully as you could in the dim lighting coming from under the door.

Against your better judgment, you turned one set of lights on in the bathroom, then cracked the bathroom door open. Sungchan was in fact on the other side, and you stepped back to let him in. He looked around the bathroom, worry on his face.

You shut the door behind him, saying sheepishly, “So, I was lying about the puking my brains out.”

“But you don’t look okay.” He peered down at your face as you were still wincing against the bright lights. “You didn’t drink anything tonight, what’s wrong?”

You went to sit on the side of the tub, feeling a pain in your eyes now. You gestured to the light switch. “Can you turn that light off?”

“Uh, okay…” He obliged, and the room was dim once again.

Your eyes adjusted quickly, and you could still see the general outline of everything in the room. Sitting back in the tub, you pulled your knees to your chest. Well, no chance for your great escape now. Sungchan climbed into the dry tub with you, facing you. He didn’t fit great in the small space, all gangly limbs, and your knees bumped into each other. But he sat there with you quietly.

“I’ve got a migraine coming on, I had to get somewhere quiet and dark and take my meds.” You told him bluntly, opting to just take the plunge. Not like you could even attempt flowery language at the moment anyway. Sure, some of your speech capabilities were coming back now that there was less sensory input, but you weren’t going to be doing any soliloquies tonight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sungchan said quietly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no. I actually- I actually don’t want to be alone right now, if that’s okay?” You surprised yourself with your answer.

“Yeah, of course.” He said reassuringly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I might not have drank but you did. I’ll be okay here, for the most part. I’m the one who came knowing that I get sound-induced migraines.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mm, yeah,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the tension there for a moment. “Remember when I said Chenle pushes me out of my comfort zone in a good way most of the time?”

“Right.”

“One of the times it wasn’t... good was when he got an invite to Nu Chi’s Halloween party our freshman year, dragged me with him. And he always means the best when he does stuff like that. I hadn’t made any new friends at college, meanwhile he had a bunch, including some of the pledges at Nu Chi.”

“How he got the invite.”

“Exactly.” You needed to take a pause, resting your head against the cool tile again. After a few deep breaths, you pushed on in the story. “Anyway, we’d been there for a couple hours when the loudness and the music and everything finally got to me and I got a migraine. I had my go bag on me, and went to what I thought was an empty corner of the house to take my meds. But a couple other people saw me knocking back pills and wanted some. My head was hurting like a bitch, and they were trying to grab them from me and anyway, I spilled a bunch of them all over the floor, drenched myself with my water and their beer, and elbowed a dude and gave him a bloody nose.”

“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.

You opened and closed your jaw a couple times to try to relax the muscles and joints there. “I couldn’t even open my eyes because my head hurt so bad. Chenle told me later I was screaming and Taeyong wanted to call an ambulance until Chenle ran up and explained what was happening. They put me, Chenle, and Jeno—turns out that’s whose nose I broke—in Taeyong’s room in the house for the rest of the night. Neither Chenle nor I were in any shape to drive ourselves home.”

“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”

“Yeah, and it turns out he wasn’t one of the ones trying to take my pills, he was trying to break up me and the people who were. Collateral damage.” You recounted it regrettably.

“When Jeno found out I’d invited you, he told me he’d keep his room clear in case we needed it. I thought he was just being a dick.” Sungchan sounded like he was having an epiphany. “Y/N, do you think you’ll be okay to move up a floor?”

The bass was thudding through the door, and you knew that if you stayed here when you transitioned into the throes of however bad this migraine fully got, you’d regret it. Grabbing your earplugs from your bag and putting them in, you gave him a thumbs-up and attempted a smile, but you knew it came out like more of a wince.

Sungchan kept you between him and the wall as you moved through the Nu Chi house, casting as much of a shadow against the garishly flashing lights as possible. Even through your earplugs, the music was raucous, people were practically screaming at each other, and you gripped one hand around his arm and the other onto his suit jacket to keep yourself balanced and to not lose him. When you got to the stairs, he fully wrapped an arm around your shoulders to jerk you out of the way of a drunk Nu Chi member stumbling his way down, and kept it there the rest of the way up. The noise was squeezing around your head like a vice, and you shut your eyes tight at the top of the stairs for a moment in an attempt to clear your head.

Sungchan’s voice was right beside your ear, muffled through the earplugs, “We’re almost there, Y/N, I’m sorry, come on.”

You were vaguely aware of the man with you feeling around on the top of a doorway before jiggling a doorhandle, and finally you were in a blissfully dark and quiet-ish room. Your head definitely hurt more than before, and you practically collapsed onto the bed.

“He was kind enough to stuff all his dirty clothes in the closet,” Sungchan muttered.

You managed a strangled chuckle at that, dropping your go bag onto the floor beside the bed. A moment of silence passed, and you could hear Sungchan awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet at the doorway.

“Sungchan,” you said his name, then patted the empty half of the bed beside you. “You can sit. I know Jeno doesn’t have any other furniture in here besides the bed and his PlayStation.”

“He probably only has a bedframe because it came with the room.”

You snickered, but were cut off by the squeezing pain turning to a sharp, stabbing pain behind your left eye, “Oh fuck!”

“Y/N?!” Sungchan was right beside you, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you.

“Sorry, sorry, it feels like I’m getting an icepick lobotomy! Jesus!” You hissed, cupping a hand over your left eye as if that were actually going to do anything. “It’s normal, I’m fine. Relatively.”

“Okay…”

Still clutching your eye, you rolled onto your side and brought your knees up towards your chest. You blindly fumbled towards the head of the bed, and felt a pillow being pressed into your hand.

“Thanks,” you muttered, tucking it under your head.

“Do you want to lay under the covers?” Sungchan whispered.

“Do they smell like Jeno’s washed them in the past week?”

He laughed breathily at that, “Miraculously they do. I think he was planning on getting laid.”

“He gave up getting his dick wet for me. Jeno’s a real one,” you mumbled, feeling the covers that you were laying on top of being pulled out from under you.

Sungchan gently brought the sheet up to your shoulder, then a blanket too. The stabbing pain behind your eye was still there, and your stomach filled with dread as you acknowledged that your acute medication wasn’t going to be working this time. This was going to be a full-blown migraine, and who knew how many hours it would last.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need? Water?”

“No. Just uh, let me know when two hours have passed, I can take another dose of my meds that aren’t fucking working then.”

“Oh. Will do.”

You opened and closed your jaw, letting out a distinct groan. Another few minutes passed. Or, you think it was a few minutes, you couldn’t really check your phone for the time.

“Sungchan.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure the party is a lot more fun.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“…No.”

“I want to stay. I’m not going to have any fun out there knowing that you’re in all in this pain all alone in here.”

You squinted your right eye open, and had to crane your neck to look up at where Sungchan was sitting against the headboard. He had taken his suit jacket and shoes off at some point, now just in a rumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, slacks, and socks. He held your eye contact steadily, head tilted slightly and a frown across his handsome features.

Reaching your unoccupied hand up towards him, he watched it with confusion.

“What do you need? Your bag?”

“No.” You grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Oh.” An adorably radiant grin was on his face now instead.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1

Sungchan knew you’d finally fallen asleep when you stopped muttering swears and curses under your breath, the pained expression fell from your face, and your hand that was holding his went limp. He could still hear the party going strong outside of Jeno’s bedroom, and a glance at his phone told him it was just after one in the morning. He had no want to rejoin his friends, to leave you.

He took his tie all the way off, thinking to himself that if you were feeling better, you might have joked that he looked like Mulder the off-duty funeral director. And he would’ve laughed and watched the cute way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you said something that you thought was funny. He set the tie down with his shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Careful to stay on top of the covers that you were sleeping under, Sungchan shifted until he was laying down too, pillow tucked under his head, facing you on his side, hand still holding yours.

Like usual, you didn’t remember falling asleep, but you did remember shutting your eyes tight and wishing really hard for your head to stop hurting so bad. Or to die. Whichever the Universe felt like granting. And judging by the fact that you were now waking up without a migraine, it seemed like the former.

The first thing you were aware of before you even opened your eyes was that you felt like shit. Sure, your head didn’t hurt anymore, but jeez the morning after wasn’t much better. Tired, achy, and your brain felt like TV static.

The second thing that you were aware of, after opening your eyes, was Jung Sungchan just a few inches from your face. He was still asleep, soft bursts of air passing from his lips and mussing up strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. You didn’t quite have enough in you to coo over his bedhead, but you could give half of a fond smile as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, running a sleepy hand over one side of your face.

Only one of your earplugs was still in your ears, and you looked around the bedsheets for the other one. After securing it, you scooted over to the edge of the bed to put the plugs back into your carrying case before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over you again. You deserved this, honestly. Sleeping in late, a comfy bed, warm blankets, a cute boy next to you, nothing to—

Your happy thoughts were ripped away by the sound of a loud alarm. You shot up, scrambling towards your tote bag to grab your phone from the depths of it and turn your goddamn alarm off before it woke Sungchan up.

“Mm?”

Too late.

Sheepishly, you looked over at him, “Sorry…”

“‘S okay,” he mumbled, flopping onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. A lot better, thanks.”

“Good, good.” He yawned, “Morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

His eyes were closed as he laid there, a hand resting on his chest, and you weren’t sure if he had fallen back asleep.

“…Sungchan?”

“Hm?”

Taking his inquisitive tone as a sign that you could keep talking, you said, “Uhm, that was the first time I’ve had anybody around for one my migraines in a while. I’m sorry if it was… well, I don’t know. What was it like for you?”

He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you and tucking a hand under his cheek, “Oh, uh, I mean, I wasn’t quite worried, since you seemed like you knew exactly what was happening, you know? But still, I… I was wishing there was more I could do. It was weird knowing that you were in pain but not being able to see where it hurt.”

“I should’ve figured that might be upsetting. Sorry about all that.”

“No, Y/N, it's okay. I get it, you just wanted someone with you when you were hurting.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” you nodded, curling one of your hands into a fist in your lap, digging your nails into your palm in an attempt to not cry at how easily he saw right into you.

“I was more than happy to sit with you.”

“I’ve had these stupid migraines for years now. Tried every treatment in the book, been on every regiment. And my friends and family, they don’t treat me like I’m made of glass or anything, which I’m grateful for. Everyone in my life knows I’m a pro at it all: I’ve got my go bag, all my meds, my alarms, I’ve been going to doctors’ appointments, testing, everything for years. But like... they still hurt. The migraines still fucking hurt.” Your voice cracked over the word, and your nails dug in deeper. “And I just… think they forget that part sometimes? I don’t know, I guess they hear the word ‘migraine’ thousands of times over the years it sort of loses its meaning. They kind of forget what one actually is. But it hurts Sungchan, my head just hurts for hours or even days, sometimes so bad I throw up from the pain. I can’t do anything but lay in bed in the dark and cry. Last night’s wasn’t that bad but still… thank you. I needed for it to all be real to somebody.”

Sungchan pushed up into a sitting position, and through your watery vision you could see that his brows were furrowed. You followed where his gaze was locked, and watched as he gently unfurled your fingers. You used the thumb of your other hand to rub at the divots that your nails had left in your skin.

“The migraines are why I’ve been all weird, by the way.” You added, trying to ignore the strain in your voice.

“What?”

“When you wanted to buy me a drink after the game. One of my migraine medications that I take, I can’t drink alcohol on it. It just felt like a weird and long explanation to have to give in the moment. And when you asked if I wanted to dance with you last night, the music would’ve made the migraine come on quicker than it did, but explaining it to you then, again it felt like it would’ve ruined the moment even more.”

“Oh… don’t worry about it.”

There was still one big thing you hadn’t smoothed over. But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties tonight, Sungchan. Stupid, stupid.

Pushing through the discomfort prickling at your skin, you asked, “Sungchan, do you want to go on a date?”

“A…” He looked you dead in the eyes for a moment, mouth parted, and blinked once, twice before he was absolutely beaming at you. “Yeah, yes, I do.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but giggle, nerves buzzing through you as your chest was airy and you were lightheaded for two reasons now, “Okay, good.”

“Is it bad for me to say that I’m relieved? That you have migraines? Well, not that you have them, because obviously they hurt, but like, that this is what it was? I seriously thought I was being stupid, like mixed signals or something. Like, you came to my game but then you didn’t want to go to the bar.” He ticked the instances off on the fingers of one hand.

“Medication,” you nodded.

“Right. Then you let me walk you home after, but you called me your friend.”

“That was just plain stupidity,” you admitted with a groan at having to relive that moment again.

“And you said yes to coming to the party, but then you didn’t want to dance with me,” Sungchan had now run out of fingers and dropped his hand back down to the bed.

“The music...”

“And when you disappeared, I thought you left because you didn’t like me. I just… felt like I was going crazy.”

“It’s not awful of you to be relieved about this. I’m sorry, Sungchan. Migraines aren’t conducive to romance, apparently.”

“Oh, bullshit.” He pushed back immediately. “They’re just not conducive to drinking and loud parties. That’s not romance.”

“Alright, fair. I’m wont to agree with you.”

“And you need to stop apologizing for your migraines. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Well, I did come to a loud ass party knowing I’d probably get a sound-induced migraine.”

“Okay, aside from that— which, I’m very flattered by and will never ever ask you to do anything like this ever again.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly the door handle rattled, then there was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you two done in there?” Jeno yelled through the wood. “You better not be having post-headache sex on my bed!”

“Seems like he didn’t get laid last night,” Sungchan muttered.

“If he keeps up that pounding I’m going to get a rebound headache and he’s going to wake the entire house, please let him in,” you groaned.

The boy with you quickly moved to do so, unlocking the door and throwing it open to whisper aggressively, “Jeno! Shut the fuck up! People are still sleeping!”

“Oh. You’re dressed.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend, “I don’t know what you think a migraine is like, but getting my back blown out is pretty far down on my to-do list for immediately after.”

“How are you feeling?” Jeno was nice enough to ask as he rooted through his closet.

“Like shit. While you guys nurse actual hangovers today, I get to nurse a migraine hangover. Same awful morning after without the fun night before.”

“That sucks.” He secured a rumpled shirt and inside out pair of sweatpants. “I told Chenle you were crashing here last night, by the way. He didn’t just abandon you for shits and giggles.”

“Oh, thanks. He was sober enough to drive?”

“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”

“Wow…”

“Now I recommend you two get the fuck out before everyone else wakes up and sees you sneaking out together.”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed and pulling his shoes on.

You quickly gathered your shoes, phone, witch hat, and go bag before giving Jeno a short goodbye and following Sungchan out. The Nu Chi house was thankfully quiet as everyone was still asleep in their own rooms, save for the partygoers and brothers who had passed out on the couches in the living rooms. Once you were on the front porch, the two of you dared to speak again.

“I’ll drive you home, Y/N,” Sungchan offered.

“Mhm, thanks,” you squinted against the bright sunlight, reaching into your bag for the spare pair of sunglasses you kept in there.

He gestured to your bag. “So what all do you have in there?”

“Everything but the kitchen sink.” You sighed, finally securing your sunglasses and putting them on. They did help, but you knew there was no way you were going to avoid a rebound headache today. Realizing that Sungchan might actually have been genuinely asking and wasn’t just trying to be polite, you decided to give him a sincere answer as well. “Uh, my meds, my blood pressure cuff, earplugs, sunglasses, some snacks, other miscellaneous non-migraine related stuff like an umbrella.”

“Blood pressure cuff?” He stopped in front of a sedan parked on the street, and opened the passenger door for you.

Even through your unpleasant migraine hangover, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips at the gesture.

Once the both of you were in the car, you explained, “One of my medications affects my blood pressure. I have to check it every few hours, or whenever I feel kind of funny. That’s partially what the snacks are for too.”

“Really?” He started the car and pulled out into the street.

“Most of my meds I need to take with food, so keeping snacks on me makes it easy. The sweet ones are in case my blood sugar drops though.”

“Blood sugar too?”

“A different medication affects my appetite, secondary effect is on my blood sugar. Fun fact, it’s the same one that keeps me from drinking alcohol. Anyway, if you’re ever craving something sweet, I keep gummies and stuff on me usually.”

Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”

“Oh and water.” You perked up as you realized you’d forgotten something, and reached in for said item. “I've got my water bottle. I need water to take my meds, obviously, but I also need to drink water to make sure I don’t get kidney stones from my medication.”

The car had stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you in disbelief. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, it’s this or be entirely unable to participate in society.” You explained. “I used to get five or six migraines a week, with really bad or mild headaches constantly in between. I couldn’t do anything, they were disabling. Clearly, they still are now when I do get them, but I only get one or two a month.”

“I can’t imagine— I… yeah…” He trailed off as the light turned green, a deep frown etching itself on his features as he clearly was trying to imagine what a huge shift in his life that would be. And was having a hard time doing so.

“People without chronic illnesses usually can’t, until they get one,” you shrugged. “I know I couldn’t imagine it either. Then I got my first migraine. Then my second, and my third. I think the ‘chronic illness’ part really hit for me when I had to order my first sharps disposal bin for the monthly injections I take.”

“You’re…”

“Do not say that I’m so strong or any live laugh love type shit right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, not what I was going to say. I was just thinking… you’re really cool.”

“I just info-dumped about my migraines, medication, medication side effects, and treatment to you for ten minutes straight and that’s the conclusion you came to?” You asked in disbelief as he pulled into your apartment complex, and it dawned on you just how long you had been talking about yourself for. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been that detailed with someone other than your neurologist or your mom about your condition and treatment.

Sungchan put his car in park to turn and look you in the eye. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here: You’re a Lit major, you like Gothic fiction, you’re good at writing, you’re smart and know things like death of the author and stuff, you like Pacific Rim, you’ve come to one of my games, you’re funny, and you just info-dumped to me about something personal for ten minutes. So yes, I think you’re cool. Actually, cool might be an understatement.”

“Jung Sungchan, you…” Your cheeks were hurting with how wide you were grinning. Whether it was the migraine hangover or truly from how warm and happy his words made you, you couldn’t formulate a proper response, “Congrats, I’m speechless.”

“I think that's good?” He laughed again. “Anyway, you told Jeno earlier that you felt like shit, so I won’t hold you up anymore. Rest well today, Y/N.”

“Thanks. You too, Sungchan.” You wrapped your hand around the door handle but stopped just short of actually opening it. “Oh, and uhm, I don’t know if this too eager or whatever, but I’m free tomorrow.”

His face lit up with recognition at what you were implying. “Me too. But are you going to be okay? Like, recovered?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all day today to sleep it off.”

“Okay.” He grinned.

“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

And with that, you got out of his car, making sure to take your go bag that had been on your lap for the whole drive.

Halfway to your front door, you turned around to give Sungchan a final wave goodbye, and he waved back through the windshield. Once you’d finally disappeared into your apartment, he looked over at his now empty passenger seat. Well, not completely empty, he realized. Your witch hat was on the floor of the passenger side, you’d forgotten to grab it on your way out. He picked it up, gently setting it on the seat beside him. He’d just give it back to you when he saw you again for your date tomorrow.

“A date,” Sungchan sighed happily, feeling his chest swell and nearly burst with joy. “A date, a date, a date.”

Putting his car in reverse, he looked through the rear window as he muttered, “Suck an egg, Donghyuck. Man-shaped friend, my ass.”

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2

Sungchan picked you up at 7:00 p.m. on the dot for your first date. You made sure to take your nighttime meds early and silence your alarms so there was nothing to bother you that night. Migraines notwithstanding, of course. You still had to bring your go bag just in case you needed anything acute, but you didn’t think twice about leaving the majority of it in the car, tucking just a couple individually packaged tablets into your pocket before accepting Sungchan’s hand that he offered to you after opening your car door for you.

Walking into the movie theater with him after he bought your tickets, you were about to start off in the direction that the usher had pointed you when your date stopped you.

“You want anything from concessions?” He nodded towards the long line of other couples, families, and groups of friends.

“I’m not big on overpriced popcorn,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks though, Sungchan.”

“You sure you don’t want a soda or candy? How’s your, you know, blood sugar?”

It was then that your polite smile morphed into a genuine, touched one, and you squeezed his hand that you were holding. “I’m doing good, promise. I made sure I ate before. But thank you, seriously. You’re really sweet.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Sungchan, can I tell you something?” You ducked your head in towards him conspiratorially.

“Yeah, of course.”

You gently shook one side of your jacket, and a muffled rattling sound came from within it. “I snuck a bag of Skittles in,” you whispered to him.

He chuckled as you dropped your jacket back down and smoothed over the inside pocket inconspicuously. “Two steps ahead of me.”

“I just didn’t want to ruin our date if I got low.”

“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”

“So are you!” You tried to reassure him.

The two of you entered where your movie would be showing, and picked your seats. The previews had already started, so you had to drop your voices to whispers.

“But you’re going to be good with the bright light, and the sounds?” Sungchan double-checked with you.

You nodded insistently. “You’re the one who made me compile a list of stuff that I could do, remember?”

“I know, but you also came to that party knowing that it was like 100% guaranteed to give you a migraine. So I think I’ve earned some skepticism.”

“Okay, fine. You got me there,” you sighed. “But I get nothing out of suggesting things that will give me migraines other than cutting our time together short. Which I don’t want to do.”

Sungchan shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you could see a small, bashful smile on his face. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up.”

The previews finally ended, and the entire theater quieted down, including you two. You settled in to watch the movie, scooting closer to your date, looping your arm under his, and resting your head on his shoulder. He hesitantly leaned his head against the top of yours.

As you left the theater hand-in-hand with Sungchan, you two were deep in discussion about the movie, and in the back of your mind, you realized with a panic that you had far too much that you wanted to say that wouldn’t fit into the short ride back to your apartment. Not to mention that you didn’t want your night with him to be over yet.

“Hey.” You called for his attention as he opened up the passenger door for you, stopping before you got in the car.

“Hey.” He offered you a lopsided grin, still holding the door open with one hand and now caging you between him and the open car door.

If the parking lot wasn’t literally swarming with other movie theater patrons, you swore you would’ve grabbed him and kissed him stupid right there and then. But a family of five walked by at that moment, so you swallowed down the itch.

“We should go somewhere,” you suggested, trying to sound equal parts nonchalant and hopeful. Which was a weird combination, you knew, but you didn’t want to come across as too desperate. Again, a ridiculous sentiment, but it was engrained in you with social conditioning or whatever.

“We just went somewhere,” he pointed out knowingly, and you swore that was a smirk that you spotted on his face in the shadowy lighting afforded by the parking lot streetlamps.

“We should go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, despite how desperate you felt on the inside to just be around him right now. “Somewhere. Are you hungry?”

“Are you?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. “Well—”

Finally, he smiled, nodded towards the car, and said, “I know somewhere. Get in.”

Sungchan closed the car door after you before walking around to get into the driver’s side. He didn’t offer you any information or clues as to your new destination as he left the movie theater parking lot. The hockey captain drove with one hand casually holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the other tapping out the rhythm of whatever song was playing over his speakers onto his thigh. You dragged your eyes from his fingers to the passing scenery.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a good date. Even the last date you’d been on was a distant memory. Lunch with some CompSci major your freshman year, a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance. He just talked over you the whole time. You didn’t deign to go on a second date with him. It wasn’t that your migraines made it impossible to date—they hadn’t even come up at the date with the CompSci major (mostly because he didn’t give you the opportunity to say much of anything)—but you knew that it was always going to be something to get out of way. Either up front or at some point down the line. And it was exhausting enough for you to have to completely restructure your life around them, how could you really ask some stranger who barely knew you—or didn’t at all—to consider doing the same? It felt like it just made your dating pool even narrower, an added standard that you didn’t even get to pick.

But with Sungchan, it had happened in the worst way possible, you disappeared on him because you were having a migraine, without even having told him anything about them. And not only was he more than chill about it, he stayed with you through your entire full-blown migraine. Listened to you explain every ailment, medication, and medication complication that you have, and just tucked all that information away to keep track of your wellbeing. Taken it all in stride and made it look easy. And that was before your first date. It almost made you angry. Not at Sungchan, but at the fact that other people had ever made you feel like an inconvenience.

The car slowing to a stop knocked you from your thoughts, and you didn’t even realize that you had been silent for the entire trip. Sungchan didn’t seem to mind, though, as he hadn’t tried to start a conversation either. He put the car in park as you looked around, trying to gauge where exactly you were.

“Are we… on campus?” You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

He was already out of the car, though, jogging around to get your door. As he opened it for you, he tilted his head innocently, “What was that?”

You stepped out, taking in your surroundings. “Are we at a campus parking garage?”

“Specifically, the top floor of Evergreen Parking Garage,” Sungchan clarified, rolling the passenger window down.

Evergreen Parking Garage was a commuter-only parking facility, meaning that this level was empty this late at night. It was also located at the furthest reaches of the north block of campus, which bordered a nature preserve, meaning that while on one side was your university campus, the other side was entirely evergreen trees. Hence the name.

Sungchan had parked on the side that faced the nature preserve, and as you turned to question your date as to why exactly he’d taken you to campus, you were instead greeted by the sight of him hunched over to lean into the open passenger window, seemingly messing around with the audio controls of the still-running car.

You tilted your head to one side, then the other as you just watched him struggle for a moment before finally speaking up. “What uh… What are you doing, Sungchan?”

He banged his head on the frame of the window as he went to stand back up. “Fuck! Ow…”

Covering your hand to muffle your giggles, you waited patiently for him to turn around and answer you.

Still clutching his head, he said with a sheepish smile, “Just give me a sec, sorry. Technical difficulties.”

And with that, he opened the door to properly sit in the passenger seat, futzing with his phone and the car radio. Finally, there was music playing from the speakers as opposed to the radio station ads, and he turned the volume up before getting back out of the car and shutting the door. With both the driver and passenger windows rolled down, you could hear the song clearly.

“I was originally going to try to take you to this lookout, but there were other cars there, so I had to keep driving by it and oh my god why did I tell you that—” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Anyway, since we didn’t get to dance at the party…”

Sungchan offered his hand out to you, and you set yours atop it. The upbeat song that had been playing finished just then, switching to a much slower, softer one. You stepped in closer, smiling up at him as you looped your free arm around his neck. His other hand settled on your hip, and he slowly started leading you in an uncertain sway of sorts.

You let out an airy chuckle, “Was this really the kind of dancing you had in mind for a frat party?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He questioned.

“Would you believe me if I said that I believed you?”

“No.”

You snickered. “Smart man.”

“But this is good, too. Better, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s not a bunch of other drunk, sweaty, loud people everywhere knocking into us. I don’t have to worry about somebody spilling beer on me, or other guys looking at you, or the DJ picking something bad. Or you getting a migraine.” Sungchan slotted his fingers with yours. “I just get to think about you.”

You rested your head on his chest, eyes zoning out on your linked hands. It was his right hand, so his pinky finger couldn’t quite fold down along with the others. “Yeah. I like this, too,” you agreed softly.

A cool breeze gently blew across your cheek that wasn’t resting on Sungchan’s chest, and you were glad for the warmth of him pressed against your front. Your feet awkwardly bumped into each other, making you chuckle, and he apologized with a nervous laugh.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I haven’t exactly taken any ballroom dancing classes. Have you?”

“Well...”

You jerked your head back to look him in the face. “You have?”

“You know how Greek life has those formals every year?”

“You’re not in a frat...”

“No, I’m not. But freshman year, Nu Chi had pitched in for this dance teacher and— God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Sungchan said regretfully, tilting his head back to look up in embarrassment.

“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.

“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

“Hendery’s date couldn’t make it to one of the lessons, so he asked me to fill in for her...”

Your jaw dropped with delight, “Was his date an Amazon? How did that work? He couldn’t have possibly dipped you! Or twirled you!”

“She was taller than him, to be fair,” he admitted. “Nothing that couldn’t be adjusted for with some thick soles, but, you know...”

“You’re such a good friend, Sungchan,” you said through a couple of giggles, imagining the two of them attempting the aforementioned twirls and dips.

He dropped his head, shaking it. “Right, thanks.”

“So I guess I should be leading then, hm?” You teased, your feet bumping his again in that moment.

“I feel like you’d lead us over the edge of this parking deck, Y/N,” he joked.

Before you could make a retort, he stepped back from you to gently twirl you around by the hand, and a cross between a surprised yelp and a laugh tumbled from your mouth. As he brought you back into his chest, you could barely think over the joyful buzzing in your head that resonated out to every square inch of your body.

“Okay, okay, I guess you can lead,” you surrendered, looping your arm back around his neck again.

After some time, the songs had picked up tempo again, but you and Sungchan were long past actually dancing to them. You were more so just holding each other, leisurely swaying, and from here you got to listen to the sounds of his breathing. He’d taken to rubbing absentminded circles into your hip with his thumb, and the fingers of your arm that was around his neck had dipped below the material of his collar, resting on his bare skin.

“Sungchan?” You murmured.

“Yes?” He responded, his voice rumbling right under your ear.

“Thank you for not making me do this in front of a bunch of other cars at the other lookout.”

He let out a couple quiet laughs, his chest shaking with each. “You’re welcome. I figured all of the teens making out in their cars also didn’t want to watch us do this either.”

You mock gasped, pretending to sound scandalized, “You were going to take me to a lover’s lookout? On the first date? Jung Sungchan…”

“Who are you, my grandma? Nobody calls it that anymore.” He pinched your side. “And only because it’s actually got a great view over the city and—”

“I’m kidding, Sungchan.” You pinched him back, lightly, on the nape of the neck. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been opposed to a trip to a lover’s lookout with you anyway…”

You heard the breath hitch in his throat, then Sungchan swallowed and inhaled through his nose, before he finally spoke, “Really?”

His grip on your hip tightened, sending a bolt of electricity along your skin out from the contact point. You brought your head out of his chest and used your arm around his neck to draw him in even closer.

“Really,” you echoed, blatantly staring at his lips now that they were centimeters away from yours. “And it looks like we’ve got our own right here.”

Then Sungchan was using his hold on your hip to push you back step by step until your back was against the side of his car. Your own arm around his neck kept him anchored to you as he stood hovering over you, blotting out any light that would’ve come from the light post above you. Your noses were almost touching, your breaths mingling in the negligible space between your mouths. You were looking at Sungchan’s eyes now, usually a warm, deep brown, now all inky blackness in the dark of night, and staring down at your own mouth. Your tongue instinctually darted out to wet your lips, and that seemed to be the final straw.

His mouth on yours was desperate, but not desperate to get laid, like your previous lover’s lookout banter might imply. Like he was just desperate for you. He stole kiss after kiss from your lips, but never forced his tongue into your mouth, nor moved his hands anywhere else. Despite leaning more and more of his weight forward onto you, utterly pinning you to the car, he kept his bruising grip on your hip and never let go of your hand.

You parted your mouth with a bedraggled gasp of his name, and he finally took this as an invite to slip his tongue into the mix. You shifted to rest the hand that was laced with his above your head, on the roof of the sedan, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand back.

Turning your head and breaking the kiss, you hoped he’d get the idea as you continued laying there half-spread out under him. He did, thankfully, kissing from the corner of your mouth across your cheek and down your jaw and neck.

“Sung…chan…” You breathed out his name, stroking the back of his head with your free hand as his lips latched onto a spot at the base of your neck.

Trailing your hand down further, you snuck it up under the hem of his shirt, feeling over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You pulled the article of clothing up towards his head insistently, and he detached from your neck for the two of you to jointly strip him of it. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You truly didn’t know if he looked or felt better, but you couldn’t ogle him for long, because he was back on top of you as soon as he’d thrown the shirt into the front seat via the open passenger window beside you. His lips were so warm on yours, his skin even hotter under your touch now as you unabashedly felt up every inch of it and the muscles underneath.

But soon that wasn’t enough either, and you were fumbling at his pants button. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating down into your own chest, as his hand snapped around your wrist.

“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.

“What?” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t get my dick out in public.”

You glanced at the car behind you, with its tinted windows, then back at Sungchan. He met your eyes, then shrugged. “That’ll work.”

It was a mad scramble to get the door to the backseat open, so much so that you accidentally smacked Sungchan in the leg with said door. After lots of apologies through giggles, both of you were in the backseat with the doors closed and locked. Sungchan had the task of awkwardly reaching forward over the console to roll the windows back up first, during which you made a couple observations about his backseat, which you hadn’t seen much of before. His practice bag for hockey was back here—which was different than his gear bag, as you’d already been told. The gear bag actually had his equipment that he needed to play with like mouth guards, sticks, and all of that, while his practice bag had more personal stuff like changes of clothes or hygiene products. You figured his gear bag was either in the trunk or at the rink, as he didn’t always need to carry it back and forth with him. But other than the practice bag and a couple of reusable grocery bags on the floor, the backseat was pretty clean. You were genuinely impressed, especially because he made it sound like he tended to chauffeur a lot of his teammates/roommates around frequently.

Sungchan eventually reentered the backseat fully, focusing a content, closed-lip smile on you. You’d taken it upon yourself to lay down on the seat, your knees propped up by your feet. He settled in to kneel on the same cushion as your feet, but just rested an arm on your knees and his chin atop that forearm to gaze down at you, still smiling.

“What? What’s that smile for?” You asked, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

“Nothing, I just—” He reached both his hands out towards you, fingers spread, and you got the idea, linking yours with them. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I want this to be a real thing, Y/N. Like, I don’t just want to sleep with you. I don’t even do this kind of stuff—car sex on the first date in a campus parking garage?—literally ever. I’m just kinda crazy about you. I know for most people usually it’s the opposite; you know, they save it for later for really important people. They try to make it special, but I know it’ll be special just because it’s you.”

“Sungchan... I’ve never done something like this either,” you admitted, squeezing both of his hands tight. “I think I’m just kinda crazy about you too.”

“Okay. Cool.” He beamed at you, and you felt your insides turn to mush in that moment. You didn’t think they’d ever un-mush again.

“Now can you please take my clothes off before I spontaneously combust?”

“Fuck. Yeah.” He nodded, immediately turning serious as his brow furrowed and he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours again, propping himself up with one hand to hover above you.

You let your knees fall apart to give him room to settle in between your legs. He pulled at your jacket first, and you sat up to help yank it off, dropping it to the floor with his practice bag. With you no longer laying down, he could use two hands to get the next part, your top. His fingertips skimmed along your skin as he grabbed the hem. You broke the kiss so he could start pulling the clothing up your body—

A loud knock against the driver’s side window quite literally made you scream, and Sungchan jerked up and hit his head once again, this time on the roof of the car. You tugged your shirt back down to cover you, ducking to lay flat on the seat as Sungchan looked at you with panic in his eyes.

Another knock came at the window, this time accompanied by a man’s voice, “Campus security! Roll the window down or I’m going to ask you to turn the car off and step out!”

“Just a second!” Sungchan yelled back, a noticeable crack in his voice. He had a difficult time maneuvering his lanky body over the console fully into the driver’s seat again.

“Now!” The man called out again. “Three! Two!”

Sungchan didn’t have time to put on his shirt before ‘one,’ and he rushed to roll the window down. A flashlight was immediately shone into the car, and you didn’t doubt your own visibility to the security officer. You were remaining laying down for your own mental wellbeing at this point. You didn’t think that you could deal with looking this man in the eye right now.

You didn’t know if it was wisdom or embarrassment that kept your date from saying anything, but he thankfully didn’t speak until spoken to, not offering up any incriminating information. After five entire seconds of silence, the officer let out an audible sigh.

“No overnight parking in this garage,” he said, his tone making it very clear that he knew that was not what was going on. “I’ll be back in five minutes and if you’re still here, you’re getting a ticket.”

“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.

“I’m sure that the captain of our hockey team wouldn’t want to get put on probation at the beginning of the season.”

“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.

The security officer grunted, but said nothing more. You heard Sungchan roll the window back up, then the sound of another car driving away. Slowly, Sungchan turned around to look at you over the console with wide, horrified eyes.

“He knew who I was…” He whispered. “That was the most terrifying 45 seconds of my life.”

“You’re famous, Sungchan,” you teased, sitting up in the backseat now that the coast was clear.

“Yeah, and fame has got so many perks so far.”

“Almost got into your first scandal already.” You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Caught with a girl in your backseat. What will the fans say?”

“Considering my fans are all frat bros, probably something along the lines of wolf whistles and incoherent, congratulatory lewd jeering.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, able to picture that perfectly considering you’d already gotten a taste at the first home game you’d gone to. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, I should take you home before that guy comes back.”

“Good idea.” You slipped your jacket back on.

“Are you going to come up here or am I your chauffeur?”

“I suppose I’ll sit up there with you,” you sighed, opening the backseat to get out and into the front normally since there was no security man around.

Back in the passenger seat, you handed Sungchan’s shirt back to him, “Here, have some decency. You’re the captain of the hockey team, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who was going to spontaneously combust if we didn’t get naked in the next 0.2 seconds?” He scoffed, pulling his top back on.

“I don’t recall.”

“Sure.”

“And who’s still hard in their jeans right now?”

“Don’t remind me, I have to drive like this,” he groaned, taking the car out of park with a shake of his head.

As Sungchan drove with one hand, the other reached over to take yours, lacing his fingers together with yours.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Just a few days later, and you were at the rink again, eagerly watching the hockey game in front of you. Chenle was beside you, continuing his constant sports commentary on every play that happened. You still mostly tuned it out, but you were pretty sure you at least understood most of the basic rules that Taeyong had explained to you before. You kept your eyes on Sungchan, cheering him on along with the other various Nu Chi brothers around you and other fans in the stands. It wasn’t as full of a house as it had been for the first home game, but you were perfectly content to have a slightly quieter environment.

Sungchan happened to skate by your section as everyone was resetting their positions, giving you a wave through the clear barrier. You gave him a slightly bashful but nevertheless bright grin as you waved back.

“So are you two like... dating now?” Hendery asked from your other side, leaned forward with both of his elbows on his knees as he watched the game. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, though, one that made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know. We’ve been on a date. I mean, there was the Halloween party, but I got a migraine so I don’t think that really counts, so— I don’t have to explain myself to you!” You scowled at him, shoving him away by his shoulder.

He laughed as he let himself get jostled around in his seat from the push, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just curious. Unlike your bestie over there, I think you two are adorable.”

“What?” You looked over at Chenle, who Hendery had pointed at.

Chenle had apparently been listening enough to be able to jump in to defend himself. “It’s not what it sounds like. I think you two are great, promise.”

You turned back to your other friend. “Then what the hell are you talking about, Hendery?”

“He just doesn’t want to lose,” the Nu Chi member explained. “I pegged Sungchan’s huge crush on you on day 1 of Dr. Son’s class. Once the Phanta Phour stuff started, I knew that boy had no chance. Chenle just didn’t think you’d ever... hold on, how’d he put it... be into uh, ‘Neanderthal frat-bro-in-law types.’”

“I was maybe a bit tipsy...” Chenle added in.

“So you made a bet on if Sungchan and I would get together? In four whole years?” You looked from left to right between them.

“Loser has to buy winner a 12-pack,” Hendery confirmed with that same grin. “When Phantasmagorical Phriday ended this year, I really thought I’d lost. But then you turned up at the game last week and I figured Sungchan just might score himself a buzzer beater.”

“You two need to get better hobbies,” you declared with a snort.

“This so counts as sudden-death OT, but whatever,” Chenle scoffed under his breath.

You smacked him across the chest. “And don’t call my dating life ‘sudden death’ either.”

“Hey.” He said softly, grabbing your arm, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “I really was worried about you going to the Halloween party with your head. I swear.”

“I know, LeLe,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You did some great wingmanning once we got there.”

The brief flash of sincerity you got from your best friend was over as quick as it had come, as you heard the crash of helmets on the ice, and both your focuses were drawn back to the game. Two players had collided into each other and the clear barrier right in front of your faces. You grimaced sympathetically as you tried to identify the player from your team. 23— Jeno, ah, he’d be alright. And you were right, he took off almost immediately as the other guy was left behind still dazed.

At the end of the game, with the buzz of another win in your veins and the anticipation of seeing Sungchan thrumming along your skin, you bounced on your heels as you waited in the lobby. You weren't paying attention to the ecstatic, dramatic recollections that Chenle and the Nu Chi brothers were giving of specific plays around you, your gaze entirely focused on the locker room exit.

The very first player to leave was Sungchan, his eyes already scanning the crowd. Without a second thought, you darted over to him, ignoring the couple of whoops and whistles you two got from your friends.

Sungchan beamed down at you as he went to pull you into a hug, and you were immediately enveloped in the smell of the freshly washed clothes that you’d caught last time. This time, though, there was the distinct, crisp smell of ice rink ice under it as well, reminding you of when you’d go ice skating with friends.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him as he let you go, but didn’t step back very far. “You played really good again. I’m pretty sure. A bit more sure than I was last time.”

He was still grinning, looking down at the floor then back up at you before he responded, “Thank you. And I don’t really expect you to become a hockey pro or anything if all that doesn’t interest you. As long as you don’t expect me to remember what death of the author is.”

“This was only my second game, have some faith in me!” You cried out indignantly. “And no, I don’t expect you to become a full-blown literary critic either.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized through a couple of poorly suppressed giggles. “I do believe in you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to learn boring sports stuff for me.”

“I do want to be able to follow the basics of a game without Chenle or Taeyong annotating it for me, at least.”

“Oh, yeah, you can definitely do that. Might need to come to a few more games, though...”

You nodded giddily. “Just let me know when the home games are and I’m there.”

“Yo!” A voice had called from the gaggle of guys heading towards the exit. You didn’t even realize that the rest of the team had left the locker room in the time that you’d been talking to Sungchan.

While you couldn’t tell who had gotten your attention, it was Donghyuck that asked, “Are you two coming or are you just going to keep making moony eyes at each other all night?”

“Yeah, Sungchan, you’re our ride!” Yangyang yelled out from somewhere.

“DD!” Jeno cheered.

“I’ll drive you two,” Mark offered with a shake of his head.

“Shotgun!” The two of them immediately dibs-ed in unison.

“Sorry, bitches, I’m his little,” Donghyuck declared. “That means eternal dibs on shotgun in Mark’s car.”

The frat president scoffed, “You only give a shit about that when it directly benefits you.”

“You guys go ahead,” Sungchan cut into their bickering. “We’re right behind you.”

After they had all filed out, he looked back down at you, a nervous smile worming across his face. “Sorry about that...”

“It’s okay,” you said. “So... you ready to go?”

The two of you had already discussed going to the after-game celebrations with the team before this. Sungchan texted you last night to check in and make sure you’d be okay with going from the loud game to a noisy bar/pool hall with a bunch of frat guys after. You’d assured him that you’d be okay as long as you sat away from any music speakers at the bar, and he’d in turn made you promise to tell him if you needed to leave early.

However, he now halted you as you were slowly turning towards the exit. “Wait, I want to try this again.”

With a sneaking suspicion of what he was about to do, you assured him, “Sungchan, you don’t have to—”

“Let me do this. Please.” He gave you those same eyes that had convinced you to go to a frat party in the first place, and you were squaring your shoulders back to face him, giving him a firm nod.

“Okay. Go for it.”

He asked casually, “So, did you drive yourself?”

You had to hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to straighten your face before replying coyly, “Oh, me? I walked. My apartment is close.”

“So, the team all goes out to this bar after home games. It’s a pretty sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday night, but I’d really like for you to come with me. I’ll buy you a... soda.”

“I would love to come, Sungchan,” you giggled, adjusting your purse strap.

“Awesome,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

As you walked up to the passenger side of his car with him, you suddenly realized something. “Wait, did you have your car last time, too?”

“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for the door handle to open it for you.

“Then why did you walk me home?”

“To spend more time with you?”

You stole a quick kiss before ducking into the passenger seat.

Squished into one side of a booth with Sungchan’s arm around you, you chatted happily with Chenle, Ten, and Sicheng, who were sitting opposite from you. The team and cheer section were spread out between a couple booths and tables near each other, a few of them up playing pool too. You sipped on your soda between discussions about tonight’s game, upcoming games, classes, or whatever else struck you all. Currently, you were locked in a conversation with Ten about the most recent assigned reading in a class that you two shared together this semester.

“I thought that scene had a lot of great allusions back to the earlier one with her mother and the pie baking,” you gushed.

“Really?” Ten tilted his head curiously. “I was seeing it more as a continuation of the cannibalism-sex-love metaphor, since they were eating figs, you know.”

You nodded knowingly. “That’s true. Everything’s about sex—”

“Except sex.” You two finished quoting your professor in unison.

“And then with figs, there’s the Bible interpretation, of course,” you continued.

“Always the Bible.”

“We can never escape what John Milton did for Christian fanfiction, truly.”

“But I do like the pie scene connection the more that I think about it, actually.” Ten knocked back the rest of his cocktail. “And, tying her mother into the cannibalism metaphor could be a fascinating angle, too.”

Your eyes widened as you were practically vibrating your seat with excitement now. “Yeah, her earliest memory being of food, parental love, and harm...”

“Anyway, I need a refill.” Your friend shook his glass of ice with a smile. “Be back. Good chat as always, Y/N.”

Chenle and Sicheng scooted out of the booth to let Ten out, the former heading off towards the restrooms while the co-captain followed his roommate to the bar, leaving just you and Sungchan. You continued musing over the new connections you’d just made in the text as you turned your gaze back over to Sungchan beside you. He was already looking at you, a fond half-smile on his face.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.

Sungchan took a swig of his drink, then eyed yours. “You haven’t drunk any water since we get here.”

He’d been sure to not only order your promised soda of choice, but also water, and as you now looked over at your two cups, you could tell that the water had not been touched at all while the soda was practically empty.

“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”

“Drink some.” He pushed it towards you insistently. “Can’t have you getting kidney stones on my watch.”

“Okay, okay.” You acquiesced easily, switching your straw over to that glass and chugging a quarter of it in one go. “Better?”

“Much.” He nodded in satisfaction. “So what were you and Ten saying about pies and sex or whatever? Sex isn’t about sex?”

“Oh, it’s just something one of our professors says a lot. ‘Everything is about sex except sex.’ For lit analysis. In literature, pretty much everything is about sex. Or can be. You can turn like, anything in a piece of text into an innuendo or euphemism if you wanted to. Except for sex. Like, if a sex scene is included in a piece of literature, it’s not actually about the sex that’s being depicted. The sex is meant to represent something else. Like politics, or social structures, or whatever other themes are present in the work. Unless you’re just reading porn. But even then, there’s artistic merit to erotica, and plenty to be learned about the social structures at the time it was written, too.”

Sungchan hadn’t blinked the entire time you’d been rambling on, and upon you finally stopping, blinked in rapid succession as he seemed to come to from a daze. “Wow. Uh, interesting. Filing that away with death of the author.”

“Sungchan...” You leaned in to whisper, placing a hand on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. His leg jumped, knocking his knee into the tabletop. Your hand had narrowly avoided being smashed too, saved only by its position curled around his leg instead of directly on top. You didn’t move it up or down now though, simply tapping your index finger against the loose material of his sweatpants as you giggled. “What are you thinking about?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “How you still have three-quarters of that glass of water left to drink.”

You laughed, slumping to relax into his side and pulling your hand back up to a more casual position on top of his leg. With your other hand, you grabbed your water. “Alright, fine.”

Not too long after your water had been drained, Sungchan was driving you home. Some of your other friends had taken off as well, and you didn't put up too much of a protest when he offered. As your familiar building came into view, you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, visitor’s parking is over there. Sorry, forgot to mention before.” You pointed to a few parking spots painted with yellow lines instead of white, further away from the apartment entrances than the resident parking. “They’re a bit picky. Chenle got towed after like, five minutes one time.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Sungchan smoothly turned the wheel to pull into one of the open visitor’s spots.

Your reason for showing it to him was two-fold. One, to let him know you hoped he’d be coming over more often, so he’d need that information for future reference. And two, for perhaps less innocent ulterior motives tonight. Truly, your apartment complex only towed people after dark. Overnight visitors. Chenle’s five-minute tow had been a fluke.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said with no prompting, and you had to hold in a sigh of relief.

Instead, you gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Sungchan.”

“I don’t think I thanked you for coming tonight. To the game.” He slowly meandered up the sidewalk with you, hand holding yours.

“Thanks for inviting me again. I had a lot of fun.” You squeezed his hand.

Your front door loomed in the not-so-distant distance.

“Uh, are you busy this weekend?” He rushed to ask. “I have Saturday morning practice, at 7:30, but it’s over at 9:00, and after that I’m free.”

So that’s why he had texted you at seven in the morning to congratulate you on winning Phantasmagorical Phriday.

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do something, just pick from the list I sent you. Surprise me, hm?”

“Will do.”

You were finally on your front welcome mat, and watched his face fall as he seemed to be drawing a blank about how else to prolong your night. But you had an idea.

You didn’t let an alarm or anything else possibly have the chance to interrupt you, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to yours. He stumbled forward at you suddenly yanking him off-balance, catching himself with one hand on your front door and the other on your doorframe. Then, he dropped a hand to the small of your back, drawing you in even closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Disconnected just enough to murmur against his lips, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

“Please?” He replied with a nearly sheepish chuckle.

“So polite,” you quipped.

You gave him one more peck before turning around to unlock your door and drag him in by the arm.

➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist

#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #jungsung #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: buzzer beater #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag #*100 #*200 #*300 #*400 #*500 #*600 #*700

[caelesjjk]

entangled | jjk&kth - teaser

⟶title: entangled

⟶au: marvel au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle

⟶wc: 1.5k for this

⟶banner: by meee, and yes I’m insane and made a new one

⟶warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, a boob grab and an ass grab, but no actual smut for this, Jungkook calls you Data

⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings. I know a lot of people have been waiting for this fic, and you’ll have wait just a bit more. But in the meantime, I offer this little teaser to hold you over. A little glimpse of spidey kook. First chapter will be posted in just a few weeks!

Also, if you asked to be on the taglist just now that I tried messing with it for a long ass time and got annoyed lol. I may try again for the actual fic.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing it’s just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your bathroom vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” He asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers were really something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you.” You whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off his hands and sit them on the countertop before they’re coming up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. He’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. But no one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours, “but Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Seokjin Kim, also known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He had helped Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” You tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull your hand out of his, but his web shooter from the other wrist shoots a web at your torso, using his inhuman strength to pull you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the ground is no longer beneath your feet and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge and swing you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek, “just another minute.”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to open your eyes just the slightest bit. You see the sun completely setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

Jungkook shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” he kisses you before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” you melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body is hot and on the edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

#bts #bts fic #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #entangled teaser #jjk #kth #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

[princessdimondheart]

Rave | Gaz x Reader

Pairing: Gaz x f! Reader

Summary: How Kyle met the love of his life while covered in holo glitter.

WC: 2,930

Warnings: 🔥- NSFW 18+ MDI, PnV, unsafe sex, creampie, oral f! receiving; 😭- slight angst

Edited: No; added Sarah’s outfit bc I forgot 🤦‍♀️

A/N 1: Sorry for the long wait as I healed my cut finger. It still hurts btw. I said Christmas didn’t I? It’s still Christmas here lol 😅😅 Reader is nicknamed Angel. My first smut 😳 If I messed up anywhere please tell me. I’m not 100% satisfied so I might add or change things later on.

A/N 2: I could not pick which outfit reader should wear. 😖 It’s between these two= Outfit 1 and Outfit 2: Top, Bottom ; the makeup is the same for both= Eyes, Lips ; Shoes for both but matte instead of velvet ; Nails are a bit more simple ; Kyle’s outfit will be linked in the fic. I’m not a fashion expert so I’m not sure if these fit well but I like them. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or note if you do. 😊

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Kyle was happy when Price decided to send him on a special training mission across the pond to the states, at least he was for a while. But then FOMO hit him when he realized that he would be missing out on a few missions. The training would last for a few months. Two months too long in his opinion, but here he was those months later and he had finally completed his training. Kyle was certain that his Captain would be proud to learn that he had made it to the top of the class. 

Now, he only had a few days left before he had to ship back out to the UK. He’d planned to chill in the barracks and maybe go to a bar for a couple of drinks. However, that was not the case when he received a random text from his cousin. 

Sarah had moved out to California from their hometown after she got accepted into UCLA. She was very excited when she heard about her acceptance. Kyle believed it was because she could now party it up without the scary eyes of their very religious grandmother baring down their necks. At least that’s how he felt when he first left home to join the military. 

Sarah had invited him to go out to a festival or perhaps it was a rave? He wasn’t sure because he had never been to one before so this was sure to be a new experience. He’d never been one to party, even less given that he’s living a military and not a typical college life style. However, he can say that he can handle his own with a couple of pints. 

He glanced back to her text to make sure that he had input the address correctly. He was lucky that her new home wasn’t too far from the base he was staying at so he could take the bus that ran through the base. Sarah had decided that the gloomy skies of England were no match to the sunny skies of Los Angeles, so after graduating she found a job in engineering and found a place to call her own. He was honestly happy for her and was genuinely surprised that she had messaged him since they had not talked in several years. He had a suspicion that their grandmother called her about him being there. 

The bus stop was only a few blocks away from Sarah’s house so he had to walk the rest of the way. It was early, almost 8 am on a Saturday, so Kyle was certain that his cousin was likely still sleeping in. He made sure that his walk took longer by taking in his environment. It must have been because of his military mindset that had him checking the area for security risks. He knows that L.A. has a bad rep but his cousin living in a decent neighborhood didn’t mean that there were no risks. Kyle didn’t see that many people out that early. Only a few dogs walkers and a mother pushing a stroller with a baby that seemed not too happy to have been woken from their sleep based on theirs incessant crying. Kyle winced when they walked by. 

Kyle made it to his cousin’s door in 15 minutes. She opened the door after two knocks with a few minutes in between. 

“Kyle! You’re here!” She engulfed him in a tight hug, her arms squeezing against his torso with enough strength to pop his back. “Ahhh!! It’s been forever!”

“Gah!” He wheezed as his arms were crushed to his sides. “You have gotten a lot stronger, Sarah. Please let me go.”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry. I get a bit excited about this stuff. You know me!” Sarah let him go and cover her mouth with her hand to try to hide her laughter. Then, she flexes an arm. “I just did arm day so I’m pretty pumped.”

Kyle laughs, “Your noodle arms are nothing compared to mine.” He teased her while flexing his larger arm muscles. It was like they were back to being kids and laughing and making fun of each other. 

“Har. Har. Kyle!” She rolled her eyes and gestured into her home. “Get your ass inside, Popeye.”

“Who?” His brow rose. She stared at him blankly. 

“Just get in, you uncultured swine!” Sarah started pushing his back to get him in. He resisted of course, but after a few seconds he let her have her way and stepped through the threshold. 

They settled on the couch and began to catch up. He learned about her job and that although it wasn’t her dream job, she was still happy about working there. Kyle didn’t tell her that much about his work being that almost all of it was classified but he shared that he too enjoyed working with his team. Overall, they were happy that the other was happy. 

“Now, what’s this about a rave? Festival?” Kyle felt like he didn’t know what he was saying. “You wanted to go out later tonight?”

“Yeah! It’s a rave with festival vibes.” Sarah explained and he nodded along. “We have to dress up a bit so we can look cool I guess. That’s why I wanted you to come a bit early, though not this early!” 

“Sorry.” She chuckled at him. 

“Don’t worry about it. I should have known that with you military types that I should have specified the exact time. That’s on me. But! Now we have more time to go over what you’re going to wear!”

If Sarah could be more excited she’d be bouncing off the walls and out the door. Her face bright like the huge grin pulling at her lips. 

“Oh… I was just gonna go like this.” He gestured at himself but apparently that did not go over so well with Sarah. She had a grossed out face. 

“A button up with kakis? What are you Jake from State Farm?” Another cultural reference that he lacked an understanding of. Sarah’s accent had become more Americanized but her British voice would shine through on the occasion. “No, no, no! I will not be seen with you dressed like that, love!”

She stood up. “I think I know what to do.”

Kyle almost panicked. “Please, no cheeks handing out and nothing too girly.” His brows furrowed together. “Damn… what would my team say if they saw me like this??”

“They’d say nothing because they would see that you had girls hanging off of you. You know some girls like men who are in touch with their feminine side?”

“I don’t have a feminine side.” He pouted. 

“Well, now you do!” Kyle cursed himself at being more open about what she could dress him in. He just hoped no pictures made it back to the Task Force. 

~~~~~

Kyle and Sarah walked amongst the crowd heading into the music festival grounds. There were so many people there, and from what he could see, not so many security guards or police. His training had him looking around and eyeing any suspicious looking people. Although that was kinda hard when every other person had their ass and titties hanging out, with even more glitter on their bodies than he had. 

They made it through security which was just a metal detector and the guards checking their bags. Then their passes were scanned and off into the throng of people they went. 

“My friends texted that they were near the food stalls.” Sarah glanced up from her phone. “I told them we’d meet up with them. Come on, let’s go!”

She took off and Kyle followed after her. He felt like a protective older brother as he glared at anyone who gave her weird looks of lust. Sarah was pretty and everywhere she went she always garnered looks of appreciation from strangers. She was currently wearing a yellow outfit that complimented her skin tone rather well. Her hair was long and styled back in curls. Large hoops adorned her ears. She was also wearing a large yellow coat which he thought she was crazy for because of the heat, but she assured him that it would get colder as the night went on. He was certain that her new white shoes wouldn’t stay that way afterwards. 

~~~

His own outfit wasn’t too bad if he was honest, although the sheer crop top was new for him. He liked the baggy pants that Sarah picked out and he paired it with his black combat boots. Sarah had given him two thumbs up and started messing around with her makeup bag. He was checking his outfit out in front of the mirror when he saw a hand with a makeup brush making its way to his face. 

“Woah! What’ya doin’!?” He pushed her hand away. Sarah huffed. 

“Just adding to the vibes. Come on it’s just some glitter, you’ll look so hot that girls will be falling all over you.” She grinned. 

“You say that but I’m not so sure…” He squinted at her. 

“Ugh! Just let go!” She shook her arm around. 

“Okay, Elsa.”

“Bitch-!”

~~~~~

Sarah found her friends in the crowd by the food stalls. She squealed and yanked on his arm in their direction. Introductions were made and the group went together where the concerts were happening. The crowd wasn’t as pushed together as Kyle thought but he never took his eyes off the group for too long, not wanting to lose sight of his cousin. Call him overprotective if you want. 

They found a spot near the middle of the crowd. The girls danced around him and he bobbed his head to the music despite it not being to his taste. Maybe he tapped his foot but he won’t admit it. Although, he’ll admit that the live band was rather good. 

From the corner of his eye he saw arms shoot up and wave around. He followed the movement down and saw the form of a girl dancing and singing along to the song. Her wrists had multiple beaded bracelets, fingernails perfectly manicured. Her lips were in a smile, sparkling with her lipgloss, and her eyes reflected the bright colors of the strobe lights. Her makeup was pretty but he had no real knowledge about that. The more he looked the wider his eyes dilated. 

The girl wore a black three-piece bra, high-waisted bikini bottoms and skirt-wrap combo with flowers and tuffs of faux feathers. Her arms had long sleeves and she wore a matching choker necklace. Chains dangled from her form and bounced as she jumped and danced. His eyes lowers down her legs and to her feet in very tall heels that he was amazed she was jumping around in. He thought she’d break an ankle. 

When his eyes went back to her face, she was already looking at him. Brow raised in question and lips slightly pouted. Damn those lips. He flinched back a bit when their eyes connected. His cheeks burned at realizing she caught him eyeing her up. 

“Hi!” She said rather shyly, or really, she yelled over the music. 

It took him a moment to respond. “Hello, Miss?”

She yelled her name but said that everyone called her Angel, and he gave his own in return. The music changed to a faster beat and the people around him were dancing closer to each other. 

“Wanna dance?” Her hand reached for his, fingertips sliding softly up on his forearm. He could feel the slight scratch of her nails. It sent shivers up his back. 

He felt like a teenager with the slight nod to her question he gave. His damn voice was caught in his throat. He was better than this. Smoother at flirting with pretty ladies but right now all of his experience was failing him. 

She giggled at him, not that he could hear it but felt it as she drew herself closer to his chest. Her breasts pressed to his shear shirt. Her hips swayed with the music and his hands automatically rested themselves there. Angel raised her hands, gliding them on his chest. Her fingers teased the sides of his throat before curling behind his neck. 

As her nails scratched the short hairs there, he brought her hips closer to his. She was definitely aware that she was affecting him physically. He ground his hardness against her. They both moaned at the feeling. His eyes were droopy with lust, they glanced at her pouty lips. Someone from behind bumped him closer and he let his lips lock with hers. 

Kyle’s hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer. She moaned and his tongue slipped past and tangled with hers. He tasted her lipgloss and the sweetness of the alcohol she drunk earlier that night. Both reveled in each other’s touch. 

The moment was cut short by whoops and whistles to their left. When they separated, Kyle looked over and saw his cousin and her friends cheering him on. Sarah must have noticed that he wasn’t as close to them as before. His cousin gave him a thumbs up and a fist pump. The girl in his arms hid herself in his chest, her cheeks warming. As if she wasn’t just grinding up on him as they were making out. 

“Ah… sorry, that’s my cousin and her friends.” He chuckled, abashed. 

“It’s okay.” Angel smiled at him, taking in his pretty eyes. 

~~~~~

They spent the next few hours dancing, kissing, and occasionally touching more than what would be socially acceptable. During one of the set changes, Kyle introduced her to his cousin and her friends. They hit it off rather quickly. At the end of their night, Sarah decided to stay overnight with her friends and Kyle chose to go home with Angel after she invited him. Her apartment wasn’t too far from where they were at anyways. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t usually do this. Bringing home a stranger.” She glanced down. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t do that either.” His lips tugged into a small grin. 

She looked up at him and smiled softly. Her eyes drifted to his lips. Kyle noticed and began to inch forward until their lips met. It was soft. Her lips and the motions were slow and sweet. Very different to the one in the heat of the festival. Her hands rubbed up his mesh shirt, nails scratching softly through the thin fabric before clasping tightly behind his neck. His own hands rubbed on her waist in slow circular motions. 

Their kisses and touches ached and Kyle began to quickly lead her back into the room. Not that he knew where he was going. His first mistake as the beautiful woman he was currently in a delicious lip lock fell from his arms. 

She yelped when her body hit the back of her couch. The suddenness of it causing her to tip backwards. She landed on the plush cushions with a soft ‘oof.’ Kyle looked down at her in shock, mouth open but no words came out. Part of her legs and feet dangled over the top. She looked up at him, eyes glancing back and forth between his own, dumbfounded before her the corners of her lips turned up and a giggle started. Then it turned into full blown laughter. Kyle grinned at her cute reaction and joined with a chuckle. 

She lifted her hands up to him and as he began to pull her up, she yanked him down over the couch with her. Giggling all the while. His arms stretched out to catch himself on the cushions. He could barely think before her lips were on him once again. This time there was more heat to it. More passion. 

Her hands were cupping his face. Fingers rubbing softly against his freshly shaven face. He shifted their bodies into a more comfortable position and put his weight onto one arm before bringing the other hand up. He let it glance lightly against her body until it rested softly against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His thumb rubbing her neck with an equal softness. 

He felt more than he heard the soft groan that left her lips, muffled by his own. Her legs shifted and he felt her knees up against his hips. Kyle gave into the temptation and lowered his lower body until he was flush against her. This time he heard her moan. He shivered in delight. 

Her tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he let her in. Their tongues danced against one another. Damn he loved the taste of her. 

Angel pushed him back so that she could reach behind her to unclip her top. His mouth immediately latched on her nipple. Her back arched, a pleasured sigh escaping her lips. She felt herself getting wet, her slick soaking her black bottoms and she bucked her hips into Kyle’s. His moan vibrated through her chest. 

Kyle kissed her chest some more before sliding back and removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Her hands helped him pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Where’s your bed?” He held her hands and helped her up off the couch. Angel led him to her room, she removed the rest of her clothes and heels and laid her bare self on the soft bed. Kyle stood by the doorway and just stared at her beauty. Her legs were slightly open and he could see the glimmer of her slick weeping from her pussy. 

Angel’s face burned at his intense gaze. “Kyle?”

That broke him out of his lustful haze, swiftly removing his boxers. He hung heavily, his arousal twitching against his navel. The tip flushed and his veins throbbing. Angel licked her lips as he grew closer. 

Her hand reached for his cock but was quickly intercepted by Kyle’s larger hand. “Let me…”

Angel let herself fall back as Kyle took his place between her legs. Instantly sucking and licking at her soaked pussy. His hands held firmly on her thighs, not letting her rub against his head. Kyle’s tongue flicked on her clit and she moaned rather loudly that she was sure she’d get a complaint about it later. 

“Oh, fuck! Kyle!” Her nails scratched at his short hair. 

The wet, juicy sounds of her slick and Kyle’s sucking turned her own, making her even more wet. He licked stripes up and down her pussy, then slipped a finger in rather easily. She was panting now, little moans interdicted with louder ones. 

He added a second and then a third, really stretching her out for him. The bed sheets had her juices pooled beneath her. His fingers pumped faster and his mouth sucked harder on her clit. She moaned loudly as her walls clamped down on his fingers as she orgasmed around them. The sounds coming from her nearly made Kyle cum but he held the base of his cock with his free hand to stop his load from blowing too early. 

His fingers slipped from her pussy and he watched as her slick lips clenched around nothing. 

“Kyle, please…” Her eyes were pleading, flicking between his eyes and his straining dick. 

“Angel…” He moaned as he tapped his tip against her clit. She wiggled her lower half in an attempt to get him inside her. She whined when he pulled away but groaned as Kyle pushed his tip just barely inside. 

He huffed and then pushed all the way in, earning himself beautiful, pleasure-filled noises. He was halfway in when she half sat up and pulled him closer, locking their mouths in a heated kiss. His hips jerked forward the final few inches until their hips were touching. His arms and thighs shook from the pleasure he was feeling. Her plush pussy was sucking him in, clenching against his thick cock. Desperately trying to milk him for what he’s got. And he had a lot to give. 

The first few thrusts were overstimulating, so Kyle went torturously slow. It didn’t last too long before he was pounding into her sweet pussy faster. Their bodies coming together created wet lewd sounds. His cum filled balls slapped against her ass with each hard connection. Kyle could feel her wetness dripping down his balls. The viscous fluid becoming creamier with each thrust. 

“There ya go, love.” Kyle panted. “Look at those tits bouncing every, every time I fuck my cock into ya.”

He looked down at her boobs bouncing with his thrusts. A hand reached out to pinch at her nipple. Her hips bucked in sync with his. 

“Ah! Ah! Kyle!” He pinched and twisted her nipple harder. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He thrusted his cock into her faster than before. His balls beginning to tighten while her walls clenched harder onto him. 

“Kyle~!” Her voice going a higher pitch. The bed creaked with their thrusts. 

“Shit! Ah! That’s it, love!” Kyle’s eyes began to roll back as his creamy cum left his body and streamed into hers. “Yes, ah! Fuck! Fuck!”

The feeling of Kyle’s hot cum squirting into her made Angel cum harder than she’s ever cummed before. Her legs shook violently and her back arched off the bed. Kyle’s pace slowed but her didn’t slip out as he came to a stop. Both panted hard and Kyle wrapped his arms around her, flipping them over still connected. 

A surprised squeak slipped her lips and he chuckled. Then she groaned softly at the new position. He didn’t move, however, instead tightening his hold on her. 

“Cuddler?” She teased, palms splayed over his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating as he took deep breaths. 

“Can’t blame me for hugging an Angel.” The laugh that shook her body was making Kyle giddy. The movement made him groan as her pussy clenched on his softening cock. 

“S-sorry.” She bit her lip. She took the moment to push against him and he let her go. Kicking a leg over, his cock slipped out along with a gush of his cum. “Ah!”

Kyle hissed as his cock slapped against him covered in both their fluids. He felt his dick hardening watching his cum drip from her twitching pussy lips. 

Angel then laid next to him, her head resting against his chest. Her hand reached over his stomach to his hand. She held it as she slipped one of her bracelets she made for the festival over onto his wrist. 

“To remember me…” She said it so softly, he almost missed it if he wasn’t staring at her in awe. His cheeks burned as feelings he’s rarely ever felt before churned in his chest. Her dilated eyes looking back just as fervently. 

On its own, Kyle’s hand reached for her chin pulling her into a deep kiss. She moved over him again, one of his hands on her ass cheek to help not that she needed it. He gave it a tight squeeze making her moan into his mouth. 

They continued their moment together past sunrise. Kyle made sure to bring her pleasure as many times as Angel could take. He hoped he’d spend more time with her in the future but knew it was unlikely since he lived on another continent. Silently, she hoped the same thing. 

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

#gaz meets reader at a summer festival in cali #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 #tf 141 #codmw2 #cod #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz goes to a summer festival in california #summer festival #cod summer festival #smut #kyle smut #gaz smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #mw2 smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty fanfic

[mushroommushy]

Please please tell me your ideas I will be so normal about it I am not at all desparate for Broken Masquerade content

Boy I have so many ideas I actually need to put this in a draft to list all of the brainrot things I’ve had circling in my head!! This does include some negative things so feel free for me to ask to tag.

All of the colleges (Particularly Harvard) adding Thaumaturgy to their classes is extremely cool in the canon and I think there should be many more schools

Site-43 College beloved I want to go there so badly please be real c’mon :[

Those Facebook mom groups…oh boy there’s so much drama

Lord help all the poor kids with minor anomalous power

Segregation with schools, even restaurants

A lot of anomalies end up in homeless shelters because not many jobs are willing to take the backlash of anomalous employees

Shitty parents faking their kid having a dangerous anomaly so they can send them away

Because they think the foundation would just kill them because of all the propaganda

You know that the cults are gonna take advantage of this to try and grow their numbers

Chaos Insurgency propaganda against the foundation

A flag that shows your support for the foundation, GOC, anomalies hanging outside your home

New Genders from the tumblrinas like us

Twitter DNI’s are a genuine hell

‘DNI IF YOU SUPPORT SCP’S/THREAT ENTITIES/OBJECTS’

‘Block me if you call anomalies SCP’s that’s a slur’

Speaking of slurs there’s probably a lot more

COTBG members constantly calling the Nälkan’s Sarkics just to piss them off

And Maxwellium members getting real pressed over internet drama

Someone trying to make the nicknames the Serpents Hand has into a slur

Dr. Glass walking down the street and just has someone scream ‘JAILER’ at him and he is desperately trying to not commit a crime

Also Twitter being Twitter

‘Is it wrong to kin SCP-076-2? I’d murder too if I was under the ocean.’

Extremely dangerous TikTok trends involving anomalies that makes both the GOC and SCP have collective heart attacks

Some girl posts a video from a foundation site doing Macarena during a breach and is just immediately cancelled on every platform

You know there’s gonna be dumbass teenagers trying to find some real dangerous shit to seem cool

‘Oh a lake full of bodies that makes you enter through mind control??? Sounds cool and not totally dangerous I’m gonna find it and go swimming’

Gonna readmore this it’s getting long lol

Five missing teens later the foundations getting slandered even though they did nothing

Articles with the ‘How to tell if ‘X’ is an anomaly’

Of course they’re bullshit and usually offensive

Charities to support anomalies

An actual cult around 2662 that didn’t spawn anomalously

You fucking know that the Christian’s will either take 343 well or absolutely horrifically

There’s also two sides of people when it comes to Cain and Able

The ones who hate Cain and think Able is reasonable and the people who think the opposite

Cain’s also not allowed to leave site-17 for more than just the fact he’d kill plant life it’s for his own safety tbh

Meri does get chances to wander the woods! Just..not in public because they rampage that would happen with the amount of broken phones and cars would be horrible

Iris gets to go home because she deserves it

I feel like Gerald would become a meme in general and people pay his hospital bills for him lmao

Parents keeping their kids out of school and switching to online or homeschooling to keep them away from anomalies

Conversion camps to send your kid to so people can ‘release them from their curse’

Those got the serpents hand real heated

Speaking of them they have the snarkiest Twitter account ever and just roast the living hell out of every word that comes out of the foundations mouth

Podcasts

So many fucking podcasts

There already is a writing on the broken masquerade hub of the foundation making a video with outdated slang to appeal to kids

But I think Dr. Gears should just stare at a camera and say swag with a straight face it would be beautiful

Kondraki, Clef and Gears get called dilfs and not a single one of them knows what it means

‘Kain’s the goodest boy’ even though he’s morally corrupt as fuck is very common

But he will Fuckin run if you even try to touch him he does not need his fur messes up

Ok I don’t want this to be a mile long so I’ll stop here but!!!

If you want more dm me so we can talk 👀👀👀 I need SCP friends

#scp foundation #SCP #broken masquerade #dr. kondraki #Dr. clef #Dr. gears #Dr. Gerald’s #Dr. glass #scp 073 #scp 076 #kain pathos crow #serpents hand #church of the broken god #sarkicism #scp 105 #scp 166 #SCP 2662 #SCP 343 #SCP 2316 #chaos insurgency

[walriding]

character info sheet.

Name. Miles Luis Upshur Ramírez

Name meaning. Miles -- Latin, soldier. Luis -- Spanish, famous warrior or renowned fighter. Upshur -- English, literally just means 'from the upper shire', but the fun fact significance is that Upshur was the middle name of the famous American journalist Bob Woodward. Ramírez -- Spanish, wise / renowned ruler / counselor

Alias.( ses ). Fun Mount Massive nicknames: the Host, the Apostle, the Witness, Little Pig, buddy, etc. As far as actual aliases, he's used various combinations of his four names on fake IDs before -- i.e. Luis Upshur, Miles Ramírez, etc.

two pictures you like of your character.

The money shot, the big cryptid moment, the only third person view we canonically have of Miles:

2. Probably what I consider to be the definitive Oscar-as-Miles photo, one of the things I saw and was instantly assured of my FC choice. It might sound stupid but Oscar is such an irrevocable part of Miles to me. I can't see him any other way, and having such a strong visual representation of him has always been a huge help in making him feel real for all these years:

three headcanons you never told anyone. Disclaimer that I have probably mentioned all of this at some point but it's been seven years of writing this guy and I fear I'm out of completely new material lol

He's never been much of an exercise buff but Miles used to be into running. He had a set circuit when he lived in DC and tried to keep a consistent schedule even when traveling for work. Never got to marathon level but did a lot of 5 and 10Ks, even a half marathon here and there. But it's not something he does anymore largely because there's... really no point. One of the benefits of being possessed and also kinda dead is you don't need to workout! Yaaaaay! Unfortunately without the endorphins and the satisfaction of exertion, running has lost its luster.

Prior to Mount Massive, Miles had a long-term boyfriend from college until they were in their late 20s. The last couple years of it were a tumultuous on-and-off-again relationship that started to deteriorate after he lost his staff reporter job and had to travel more. Prop 8 meant that same sex marriage was off the table, but they talked about engagement and building a serious life together. If Miles hadn't lost his job he probably would've proposed. But, then, if he hadn't lost his job a lot of things would've been different.

Miles is genuinely obsessed with roadside tourist traps -- giant balls of twine and other objects, weird architecture, fake alien sites, that sort of thing. The kitschier the better. If you're roadtripping with him and he spots a funky sign, he's pulling over.

three things your character likes to do in their free time.

Listen to music -- he's almost always got tunes on in the background but will sit down and really get absorbed in an album when he can.

Read -- mostly current events articles, sometimes a good nonfiction book.

Drive -- loves driving around the middle of nowhere to clear his head, even though it's not quite the same without the Jeep (rip).

three people your character loves.

Not technically a person, but the Walrider. Judge him if you want, but after a decade he's accepted that they're fucked up soulmates that were always meant to be <3. It's been a slowburn enemies to lovers journey, but over time he's adapted and stopped hating it for things that weren't really its fault. He's gone from denial to acceptance to tolerance to feeling genuine affection for the Swarm. Maybe it's too complicated to really define as love, but he can't think of a better word.

@mslangermann in some form in all verses always.

People with conviction. People who stand up for themselves and the things they believe in. People who are thoughtful and who care about something bigger than themselves.

two things your character regrets.

Not being a better son and brother before everything went to shit. His life choices and the prideful stubbornness with which he committed to them drove a wedge between himself and his parents, which trickled down into a strained relationship with his sisters. In hindsight, they were just worried about him and only wanted what was best for him -- but he was too absorbed with his career and trying to piece it back together to see that. He regrets arguing with them so much. He regrets not making the most of the time he had when he didn't know it was running out.

Somewhat verse specific, but he very deeply regrets what happened with @mslangermann's husband Blake after Temple Gate. Murkoff picked him out of the wreckage and brought him to another facility -- Miles found him while trying to dig up whatever he could about the cult. Blake was completely catatonic, and probing around in his mind revealed that there was nothing left of him mentally, either. Rather than leave him to suffer in Murkoff's hands, Miles elected to put him out of his misery. And still hasn't told Lynn. He doesn't regret doing it -- truly, there were no options that would have saved Blake -- but he regrets not being honest with her. He also blames himself a bit for not finding him sooner and possibly preventing tragedy.

three phobias your character has.

the dark

confined spaces

heights

tagged by : @demcnsinmymind ty!!! tagging: @cyberpawn, @slidethirtysix, @paramnesias

#long post #it's been a hot minute since i've really done an in depth meme for miles #i miss rambling about him <3 #(ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴄǫᴜɪʀᴇᴅ) ;;; ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ

[dizzymuses]

❆・:*｡( nam joohyuk. twentysix. cis man. ) | look who entered the cabin! it’s HAJOON NA. HE is known for being the HIMBO of the group & that’s because they can be AFFABLE but also NAIVE. we bet they’re excited to be coming back to the cabin. they believe GUY.EXE by SUPERFRUIT is the best way to describe them. wonder what trouble they’ll be getting into this season.

hi hi, okay finally getting around to writing this intro. sadly, still not on my laptop bc god forbid anything ever gets delivered as planned lol. so pls forgive me if this turns out somewhat sub-par, i’m typing it on my equally sub-par ipad keyboard rip. fingers crossed i might get my charger on monday. but let’s get to business - this is hajoon, who also happens to be a brand new muse for me. he’s equal parts precious baby and big headed idiot. v sociable, trusting and endearing but also probably up to some dumb shit at any given time. let’s get into it (yuh) SKJDFHK

basics.

name: hajoon na.

nicknames: joon, joonie. 

gender: cis man.

pronouns: he/him.

age: 26.

date of birth: march 19th, 1996 (making him a pisces).

place of birth: harbor springs, michigan.

nationality: american

ethnicity: korean.

occupation: dog trainer, tiktok creator.

orientation: bisexual, biromantic. 

biography.

hajoon na was born as the first child to hyunjin na and angelica kwon, respectively an accountant and a nurse. both of them were overjoyed to welcome their son and start their little family, which had until then only consisted of the two of them and their dog valentine. however, they shouldn’t remain such a small family for very long as hajoons little sister was born only two years after him, making his run as an only child ever so short-lived. hajoon didn’t resent his sister though, instead fully embracing this new role as her older brother. it was fun to have somebody he could take care of and who would blindly follow his lead for quite a few years.

while there family was never rich, they didn’t have to worry for much, especially since their parents placed both of their well-being before most other concerns. their education was another one of the things they really cared for and so the whole family even travelled through europe twice when hajoon was in his teens. all in all, he wasn’t ever a disappointment to his parents, eager to please them. however, he also wasn’t quite the high-achiever they might have wished for. always getting good but honestly no exceptional grades, even though he was already studying much more than he personally would have liked. his sister, harin, proved herself to be much more the academic his parents were hoping for.

honestly, it wasn’t always easy for joon to have a younger sister who quite possibly was much smarter than him but in the end he was glad for her and his parents. they got what they wanted after all, with a daughter who soaked up all the knowledge she could get her hands on, especially everything space related. on the other hand, hajoon coasted through college, not quite smart enough to be of notice but certainly well liked by his peers. he was always one of the popular kids, despite never really trying. while others might have stepped on people to get them up the ranks, he had never done anything of particular note aside from having a massive glow-up in his teens and genuinely being nice to pretty much everyone.

maybe it’s the fact that he’d always been so effortlessly popular or the way his parents were basically as supportive as could be but it means that hajoon grew up to often blindly trust others and be pretty self-assured. sure, he knows now that he certainly isn’t extraordinarily smart but extraordinarily handsome was also worth something, right? after school he didn’t quite know what to do with life and so he took an infamous gap-year, mostly spent volunteering at the local animal shelter. it was there that he realised he wanted to work with animals long-term and so he began working towards becoming a certified dog trainer.

by now he works as a dog trainer, having opened his own training center with a friend of his. through a tiktok he once made with his own dog, friday, which was mostly meant to be educational, he had already gotten a small following on the site. ever since the group’s tiktok blew up in 2019 and the show was aired afterwards, however, that following had become quite sizeable and he has continued posting. i would personally describe his content as a wild mixture of educational dog training tips, tiktok’s everyone but himself would describe as thirst traps and dad jokes. harin always tells him he should stick exclusively with dog content because the rest of it is supposedly cringe af. but the internet at large doesn’t quite seem to agree with that assessment.

ok, that is all i have for u rn bc this is getting on my last nerve.i’d love to brainstorm some plot ideas w u and get things going for my boi. tysm for reading through this and maybe i’ll add to it once i have a proper keyboard again kfdjhkdfd.

#i will def work on this again later but it shall be enough for the current… situation dfgfkjdgh #also it he can’t have his dog w him sadly but he does have one and her name is friday

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan 

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments. 

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son. 

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head. 

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals. 

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal 

at first you froze in shock, and  megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High 

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe. 

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around. 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu kaisen hc #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk headcanon #jjk hcs #jjk hc #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jjk satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #itadori yuji #kugisaki nobara #fushiguro megumi #maki zenin #inumaki to/ge #nanami kento #geto suguru #gojotwins!au #gojo satoru

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Inexperienced (sub!spencer)

Summary: Spencer and Reader just started dating and finally do somethin’ spicy!

AN: send me some requests!! i am working on some others atm too! and no, i didn’t really check this either! i am being very lazy rn lol. enjoy! <3

CW: heavy petting, grinding, making out, mommy kink, kissing, hickey-giving, oral sex (male-recieving), mention of bullies

--

Reader’s POV:

It was a whirlwind of kisses and rocking hips. 

The poor thing was just so overwhelmed; his face flushed and his arousal growing by the second. 

Small whimpers continuously escaped his pretty lips as they laced with mine, and I swallowed the sounds down with delight. 

I had my hand wrapped around his throat, and my teeth were soon nipping gently at his ear as his hips rutted up (and I wasn’t even straddling him yet!), beautiful whines leaving the constraints of my hand around his throat. 

Sure, he was overwhelmed, but he knew that if he said to stop, I would. However, that word never left his mouth. 

At the age of 20 years old, he was kind of inexperienced--okay, very inexperienced compared to me; one year his senior. 

But that was one of the many reason why I was so.. enthralled with him. 

He was labeled as “The Campus Loser”, but from what I could tell, the people that called him that were the ones that were losers. 

Spencer was just timid and shy and nervous.

And for some reason, when I went from dating the ass-hole face of the college quarterback, to dating the most kind boy ever.. People were surprised. 

I mean, I don’t know why..Seriously, why would I want to date a dickbag that only got into college because of ‘daddy’s money’ rather than date someone so generous and genuinely brilliant as Spencer Reid. Not to mention absolutely adorable.

That’s why when I asked him if he wanted to come over to my dormroom after classes, he totally freaked out...but in the best way possible. We had been dating for a month, and the only thing that we had done in terms of ‘spice’ was makeout for a few minutes before Spencer would get too into it and jump off my body; excusing himself nervously to the bathroom.

My roommate was going to be out for the night, probably out at a club somewhere.

So when I asked him to come over, I couldn’t help but relish in how..hysterical he had become.

“M-Me?” he squeaked, clutching the strap of his satchel.

God, he was so cute. 

I nodded, leaning over the library desk while he painfully tried to not look at my cleavage.

Sitting down at the corner of the table, I crossed my legs in front of me as his eyes bounced to the exposed skin of my thighs when my short skirt had rode up. He quickly looked away and back into my eyes.

“Of course you, silly,” I giggled, tracing my finger along his veiny hand that laid flat ontop of his desk as he gripped the wood of the table. 

I knew Spencer wasn’t fond of touch, but he seemed to always lean into mine.

I combed some of his hair back as he gulped, kind of nuzzling into the palm of my hand as I ran my fingers through his slick hair. 

“Please, baby? I missed you. I feel like I’ve barely been able to see you.” I pouted slightly, smoothing the wrinkles of the collar of his yellow and white short-sleeve dress shirt. 

Spencer sputtered, “Y-you just saw me today,” 

I smiled softly. “You don’t have to come over if-”

I was quickly cut off. 

“N-No!” he lowered his voice when he caught glares from students studying around him. “N-no, of--of course I would like to come over.” 

And that was that.

We started making out on my bed, teeth clashing and passionate, soft moans omitting from the both of us to create such a lewd symphony.

Spencer never tried to pull away from my touch as our tongues danced upon one another. My whole body felt tingly and sensitive as he held me close to him--his hands on my back and roaming from my waist to the back of my head. 

He was blushing hard.. And something else hard.. and it wasn’t just the rosy blush dusted on his cheeks.

I kissed down his neck and he let small moans out as I sucked on the skin. 

My room was dimly lit, soft music playing in the background. 

Spencer’s fingers waltzed on my body, and I ground harder down on him. 

He was so beautiful, and eager to learn..and ready to please me in anyway he could. 

He grabbed my hips as though he wanted me ontop of him, so I straddled his thighs. Spencer’s breath caught in his throat with a loud squeak. Our lips stayed melded together under the heat of the moment, and I whimpered into his mouth. 

His large hands cupped my face to keep me as close as possible. My pussy was throbbing. I couldn’t stop from grinding on his thigh, moaning softly. 

“Spence,” he hummed in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

I pulled away, only slightly. Running my hand down from his hair and to his hardened crotch, Spencer gasped. 

“O—oh—“ he stuttered.

“Is this okay?”

“mmm, mhm,” he nodded-- quickly, desperately.

That confirmation was all I needed to add more pressure to his tented slacks, coaxing him through the many sounds he made as he bucked his hips. I created circular motions with my hips on his hard thigh, giving my clit the most delicious amount of pleasure. He gasped loudly, holding his breath before releasing a trembling mewl.

“Does it feel good, love?” I whispered, one hand holding his face gently. 

Spencer whined at the nickname. 

“Y-yeah, I—it feels good,” he spoke quietly, in fear of his voice crackling. He blushed almost instantly after he said his praise, and so I pressed harder against his thigh as he watched me with half-lidded eyes and red lips. I quickly lost myself in the friction that procured between the two of us, stroking him through his pants. 

“Spence,” I whined, my voice high.

Spencer couldn’t respond, only pulling me in for a long kiss.

It wasn’t long until he was teetering off of the edge. Between the softness of my kisses, and the tender moans that echoed in his ear, the realization that I was getting off on top of him, and my palm working him closer to his finish.. it wasn’t long at all. 

I took in the image of him for later nights when I was missing him.

His body was tensed up, his eyes crossed behind his cute little glasses and his mouth slightly agape. The escalating groans and whimpers and whines that flew from his lips were uncontrollable, and I came. My body shuddered as I stroked myself against his thigh, continuing to stroke him as well. 

I took a mental picture of him in front of him. 

His body began to weaken when he finally came.

And boy, was it a sight to see. 

He hunched over in a spasm, a crackly soft moan omitting from his slightly agape mouth as he pressed up against me, his glasses smooshing against my chest. 

Spencer collapsed ontop of me, grunting and moaning and falling apart beneath my hand as I kissed him gently.

He was just so helpless in the moment as he clung to my body, his mouth stilll agape and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He shuddered, whimpering as I brushed my fingers through his hair, his hands clinging onto my body as he laid his head on my chest. 

After a moment of him calming down, he repeatedly thanked me, kissing me softly.

He looked up at me through his doe-eyes and I practically melted beneath him. 

“I-I---Oh gosh- I didn’t mean to d-do it in my pants I-I just-” 

I shushed him, holding him close and kissing his lips. 

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” I asked, and I could tell that he knew what I meant once he saw the twinkle in my eye. 

“Y-You don’t need to or anything-” 

I kissed him to shut him up. I loved when he talked, but I hated that he doubted himself..or the fact that I wanted to give him more pleasure. 

“I want to so bad--but only if you want to.” I reassured him, and that seemed to do it as he nodded fervently. 

I kissed down his neck and chest, sucking on his soft skin. 

“Please,” he begged softly as I pulled him over to the edge of the bed, getting on my knees in front of him. 

I smirked, pulling his splotched pants down to his knees along with his boxers. 

He was just so so beautiful.

The tip of his throbbing cock was dripping with some come and pre-come.

It twitched right as I took it in my hand.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” I looked up at him through my eyelashes, and Spencer’s eyes were swimming with lust as he bit down on his bottom lip. 

“Th-thank you, mommy.” he whimpered. The risk was calculated but correct. 

I moaned as I kissed his inner thigh, beginning to jerk him off with my hand as I massaged his balls with my other hand. 

I kissed up his length as he groaned, trying his absolute best not to thrust into me. 

“P-Please,” he begged again, his hands in fists by his side. “It’s so sore, mommy. S-so sore an’ irritated an’--” 

I took him in my mouth, and he groaned loudly.

I gently slapped his thigh as to remind him that there were other people in the building too. 

I bobbed my head up and down on his hard dick, the erection definitely aching. 

He gently held my head, only to feel that this was real and not to guide me or push me down deeper on him. 

Once he hit the back of my throat, he was cumming in a matter of seconds.

I swallowed his seed, happily surprised by how fast he came. 

I knew that he would be embarrassed, but he seemed much too tired for that.

He pulled me to him, sitting me back on the bed and getting on his knees in front of me. 

“H-here.” he stammered after our multitude of kisses.

Taking his shirt off, he used it to wipe my chin that was covered in his release and my spit. 

I smiled, pulling him down to me once he was finished. 

He cuddled up close to me, and kissed his face as he smiled through a dark blush that coated his cheeks. 

“M’tired,” he yawned, and I kissed the button of his nose. 

“Sucha sleepy baby, hm?” I hummed, kissing him. He puckered his lips away, his eyes closed gently, urging me to kiss him again. 

He hummed a soft yes, peppering my lips with kisses. 

“Oh wait- I forgot to make you finish again,” he sat up quickly, but I just shushed him, pulling him back down by his shoulders. 

“Shh, no baby, let’s go to sleep.. m’kay?” 

Spencer snuggled up closer to me, holding onto my body tightly. 

“Bu-but I wanted to--” 

I kissed his forehead as he snuggled in closer to my chest. 

“You’ve done so much already, my love.” 

Spencer tried protesting, but soon fell into a sleep.

I smiled, my heart skipping happily in my chest as we held each other the rest of the night.

#subspencer #sub!spencer #subspencerreid #sub!spencerreid #spencerreid #drspencerreid #criminalminds #spencerreidxreader #spencerreidxreaderfanfic #season2spencerreid #fanfiction #criminalmindsspencerreidfanfiction

[thestarrynightslover]

So Many Times Before

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 3,190

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst.

Summary: (y/n) and Jay used to be best friends who had always, secretly, wanted more. Now, after years of not seeing each other, what happened to all those feelings? 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first actual fanfic and I’m quite unsure about it (especially since English isn’t my first language), but I really wanted/needed to give some use to my obsession with Jay Halstead, lol. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

"So, honey, you are never gonna believe who I saw the other day at the district..." You remember your dad saying, in a conversation that made your heart skip a few beats, weeks ago.

"Oh yeah? Who?" You asked with a soft smile on your lips, not paying much attention at the moment.

"Jay Halstead." He said simply as if just waiting for you to freak out. God, your dad really knew how to make you drop your cool-girl act.

"Oh, that's nice... Wait. What??? Did you say Jay? What was he even doing there? Is he okay? Did he get into some sort of trouble? How can we help?" And there it was, you were totally losing it and your dad just stood there with that smug smirk of his, that says: I knew this was coming.

"Relax, (y/n/n), he’s okay. He was just there to get some files from a case my unit was handing over to them." That would've been a completely acceptable statement if Jay Halstead wasn't still in the army for all you knew.

"Sorry, handing a case over to them?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, apparently that scrawny kid — who's not so scrawny anymore — is, now, a detective working with CPD's Intelligence Unit."

"What? But when did he leave the army?" By then you were drifting off the conversation with your dad and he knew it, so he did you the favor of leaving you alone with your thoughts and memories. 

Now, with the very same (well, not the same, he really wasn't scrawny anymore) Jay Halstead standing right in front of you, that moment with your dad inevitably came back to mind.

"Wow, (y/n) (y/l/n)!" He said with a huge bright smile that made you wanna go back to your high school days, yep the smile was that awesome.

"Jay Halstead. Wows are definitely in order." You said between giggles. "Oh my Gosh, it's been forever! How are you doing?"

"I'm- I'm- I'm good, thank you. How are you?" He looked absolutely shocked as he scanned you upside-down.

"I'm good too. You look great, by the way."

"Thanks," he smiled again. Wasn't he ever gonna stop doing that? "you look, hum, you look great too!" He said that, while looking at you in a way that was, for sure, making your cheeks heat up. "So hum-" Your phone just had to start ringing at that moment, didn't it?

"I'm so sorry, but I gotta take this. Work." You said, waving your phone in front of his face.

"Oh, okay, no problems, go ahead!" Jesus, he was acting like a teenager. After all these years how was it even possible that you still had so much effect on him? He started thinking, as he watched you take a few steps away and confidently boss someone around over the phone, was that really you? His high school best friend? Because who could tell? You were generally so quiet and shy with everyone. You would never lead any groups, almost choked on your words every time you had a presentation... Remembering that made Jay think of a moment in particular, when he first knew he loved you as more than just a friend. 

You were 16 and he was 17, a year ahead of you in school too, as he was already a senior. But you guys never really minded that. How could you, anyway? Jay was your best friend in the world (okay, your only real friend after Will left for college).

The two of you were walking back home from school, as you always did, him dropping you off at your doorstep – even if that meant he had to go back a few blocks every day, all he cared about was making sure you got home safe.

That day was different, though. He stopped you at your house's fence and said he needed to tell you something important. God, your heart literally stopped, as you thought you knew exactly what he was gonna say. "Oh, jay-"

"No, please, (y/n/n). Just let me tell you, otherwise, I'll lose my courage." He stopped for a second, breathing hard and watching your expression attentively. "I, I, um, I need to tell you that… That I, um… That I enlisted the army." He said like he was ripping off a band-aid.

"What???" You were shocked, to say the least, "You did what, Jay?" You asked again, whilst trying to calm your nerves.

"Look, don't be mad at me, just let me explain, please." He pleaded with you. "I just need to get away from here and you know it, (y/n), you know why" You did know why, just, God, the army, seriously?

"Jay, you don't need to do that." You tried reasoning with him.

"Of course I need to, (y/n/n)!" He said and you could see him beginning to get upset. Or was it desperation? "I can't stand him any longer! I just can’t.” Geez, you didn’t want him to go. You definitely didn’t want him to go, but you could see the sadness in his eyes when he said that. Still, you tried a little more: 

“But what about your mom? Your brother? What about me?” You felt yourself blush after that last part, but continued: “Jay you’re really important to me… my best friend, my… my… my only friend! I can’t lose you.”

“And you think that that doesn’t kill me? Will and my mom will be just fine, they’ll miss me, sure, but they’ll be fine. You on the other hand? I don’t wanna leave you! Especially knowing that you’ll have to go through the rest of high school alone…” He looked genuinely apologetic and concerned “That’s why I told you before anyone else.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” You stated simply.

“Tell me you don’t want me to go, and I won’t.”

“What? You’d… You’d really do that for me?” 

“Of course, (y/n/n)! You mean the world to me and you’ve gotten me through so much already…” He sounded sincere, but you also knew what led him to make such a drastic move and you couldn’t just let him throw away what was probably his best shot at getting out of Chicago for you. You wouldn’t.

“Jay… I could never ask you something like that. You’re right. I know why you’re making this choice.” You said and tried to smile a little so that he’d stop worrying about you. Your life was better and easier, in many ways, because of him, so you couldn’t or wouldn’t make his any harder than it already was.

“Are you, are you sure? Because I came here ready to argue with you about this. To try hard to make you understand my decision, but now that I’m actually here, talking to you about it…” He looked so confused and you only wish you could pull him close to you and say that everything was gonna be okay as long as you two were together. Just like he did with you on the hard days, but you couldn’t. He deserved better from you.

“I’m sure! Look, I know what I said before, but… But I promise you I’ll survive this without you! It’s gonna be harder and a lot more boring… But I’ll be okay, you don’t need to worry.” At that moment you looked down to your feet, unsure if you really had it in you to let him go like that. But of course you did because you loved him. So you went on, “You said this is how you get outta Chicago, so you should do it. You’re my best friend and I love you. And I really just want you to do what’s best for you. What’ll make you happy.” You said with a small smile, even though the tears were already in your eyes. 

And that was when he knew he loved you, for the first time, as more than just a friend. The way you supported him – like no one else had ever done –, even though it pained you… That really stuck with him. In Jay Halstead’s opinion, time and distance and other people all sucked. Because they had pushed you away from him. Well, he was to blame for that too, but now you were standing right there. At his District. That’s gotta count for something.

As you came back, he noticed you looked upset. “Everything okay?”

“What? Ah, yeah, sure. Just work stuff. Anyways it is a huge surprise to see you, Jay.” That made his heart drop, you were surprised to see him?

“Oh, yeah? I thought the reason you were here was that your dad told you this is where I work. I mean, because we ran into each other the other day…” Now it made sense. Of course your dad would wanna play matchmaker between you Jay! Even more, now that he was a cop.

“Oh, God, he did mention something about you the other day. But you’re telling me that he isn’t here?” At that, Jay just looked at you like you were crazy.

“Today? I haven’t seen him… He works at the 26, no?”

“Yeah, I know he does. It’s just... He told me to meet him here for lunch today. Something about a joint op. Anyways now I know why he said that.” 

“What? He lied to you, then?” Jay asked, laughing his ass off at your cost. Unbelievable, you being played by your cupid father and Jay Halstead laughing at you. He stopped when he realized just how angry you were getting. But the stupid smile was still there.

“Forget it, this was a waste of time.”

“No! Wait, why don’t I take you to lunch instead?” He shot you such a charming smile that you could have said yes to marrying him at that moment. “C’mon, at least you don’t end up with an empty stomach.”

“I gue-” You almost said yes, but, thank God, your brain went back to working properly and you remembered how you promised to never let yourself fall for Jay’s “ways” another time. “Actually, I already spent most of my free hour here chatting with you, so now the only way I won’t be late is if I just grab something on the way back to the office.” You saw him opening his mouth and said: “And I can do that by myself.” You added so that he wouldn’t have a chance at convincing you.

How can Jay Halstead make you feel like this after all this time? It's absolutely ridiculous because the man hurt you the way he did, he left you behind (for a good reason, but still), and you just spent the rest of the day torturing yourself for being too rude with him?

You have no self-love. That has to be it, because, now that you left work, you're calling your dad just to embarrass yourself and make him feel like the achieved cupid. Oh, right. And to beg him for Jay's address. This was the wrong move in so many ways, but you just had to go there.

Or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself as you reach his building entrance. There it was: 3B - J. Halstead. You pressed the button hoping he would be home. He was; he answered. Okay, why did you do this again?

“Hello?” You hear him calling out.

“He- hey! Hum, hi it’s (y/n)...” He doesn’t even let you finish your rambling.

“(y/n/n)! I mean, hum, (y/n). Hey, let me buzz you up!” With that, the door opens and you get inside, you’re so unsure about this that the next thing you know you’re standing at his door about to knock, but being met with a grinny Jay instead. “Hey, I was pretty surprised when I heard your voice…” He states while running a hand through his perfect hair. “I honestly thought that I had somehow managed to order food and forget about it!” Gosh, he really wasn’t gonna stop smiling like that, was he? “Hey, you okay? What happened?”

“Hum, no, no, no! Everything is fine, really! Thank you for asking though, it’s very sweet of yours.” After hearing that, his concerned expression started softening until he started smiling again, damn Jay! “Actually, I’m here precisely because, hum, after I left the District, I ended up doing some thinking and got to the conclusion that I was a bit rude with you… Maybe even more than just a bit and I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but I guess I just got upset because of how my dad played me and took it out on you! Anyway, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry.” Instead of just saying it was okay, or agreeing with you, he just gave you a funny look and silence. “So, huh, what do you think about that? Say something, please?” Still nothing, unbelievable. “Seriously? You’re giving me the silent treatment? What are we, ten?” Hearing that, he bursted into laughter, leaving you very confused, to say the least. Once he caught his breath, he finally started talking:

“Jesus, (y/n)! Of course, I’m not giving you a silent treatment!” He said while shaking his head and still laughing. “You say you were rude, but I was trying to remember exactly when, during our less than five minutes talk, that happened. I kinda asked you out and you declined, I’m not gonna think you’re a bad person because of that! Especially after all of our history…” That kinda surprised you, but, then again, Jay was never the kind of guy to get upset over some mild rudeness.

“Ah…” Was all you managed to say before he spoke again:

“But, since you’re already here, let me pry on your guilt a little and ask you to come inside for a beer, maybe?” You nodded your head giggling and followed him inside. “So, um, your dad mentioned you were moving back here…” He half asked, handing you a bottle.

“Thanks. Ah, yeah, the company I work for decided it was time for a transfer.” You answered with a shrug of shoulders.

“Oh I see, you’re an engineer, right?” The conversation was beginning to get awkward, and both of you could feel it.

“Yeah,” you said while calculating how fast you could make it to the door after standing up from the couch, “chemical engineer, listen, it’s getting late, and I have an early morning tomorrow, so-” 

“Wait, please don’t leave just yet.” He breathed out, softly grabbing you by the arm. “Ever since our fight that day I’ve been hoping for a chance to make things right between us, (y/n/n)...” At that, you just close your eyes and rub your fingers against your temples. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear!” Really? That was what he was going with?

“You never meant to hurt me? I crossed the Atlantic just to be by your side, leaving a lot of important stuff behind, and you didn’t wait a single moment to trade me for the first cover girl you could find, but you didn’t mean to hurt me?” You always thought you’d start crying if you had to confront him like that, but instead, you were just angry.

“(y/n/n), I’m so sorry! It’s just that I couldn’t be with you at that moment... I-”

“You couldn’t be with me? Right, because I wasn’t half of what they were… It’s not like you’re telling me anything new, really.” You tried to make it sound like nothing but, damn, that hurt deep.

“What? No, of course, not! You got it all wrong, baby!” Baby. He used the pet name you two sometimes used with each other to mock all those popular couples in school… “I couldn’t be with you because I was so messed up! I’m not proud to say it, but none of those girls ever meant anything to me! They were just a distraction from everything that was happening, from everything that had happened… You, on the other hand… (y/n/n), you were there at my mom’s funeral when I wasn’t! Don’t think I forgot about it!” His eyes softened a little. “You were my best friend in the world!”

“Oh my God! You still don’t get it? I didn’t want to be just your best friend, Jay! I spent most of my high school days just wondering when you were gonna trade me, your mere friend, for one of those pretty girls, who would happily be more than that to you… But you never did… Until that time! I was expecting to find you messed up! Because I knew that I wasn’t gonna give up until you got better! But, that?” Now there was just no stopping the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. He was on the verge of crying as well, so the two of you just stayed there in silence until he decided to speak again:

“I’m a complete idiot. That’s all I can say for myself. I’m so sorry I never realized it, (y/n)!” He seemed sincerely sorry, but you weren’t sure you could forgive him just yet. “You know,” he started, while laughing bitterly, “I made a real fool of myself with you, cause I used to dream about having a shot with you, romantically, I mean.” After hearing that, your jaw literally dropped, while Jay just kept laughing lightly. “Will even used to bug me about it, he’d say that you were just as fallen for me as I was for you,” he said, chuckling, and shaking his head, “and I never believed him, I’d actually beg him to stop saying those things whenever you were around because I thought it could make you uncomfortable…” You didn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Jay, I…” You began, but he interrupted you:

“You, um, you don’t need to say anything, if you don’t want to. Now I see that I hurt you a lot more than I thought I did, and I am so sorry! I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t, so if you ever feel like you can give me another chance, even if just at our friendship, I’ll be so thankful! The happiest man! But if not, well, I’ll just stay out of your life,” you could see how hurt he was, “because I don’t ever wanna make you cry again.” He said that but it looked like he was the one about to break into tears, so you did the one thing you could think about doing; you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. Just like you had thought about doing so many times before. It took him a while to correspond since he was sort of stunned, but when he did… Oh boy, it was everything that books always told you about, there were butterflies and fireworks, and you knew that your transfer back home couldn’t have come at a better time.

#jay halstead x reader #one chicago #chicago pd #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #jay halstead #chicago pd one shot #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #one shot #imagines #jay halstead x y/n #angst #jay halstead x you #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead angst #jay halstead fluff

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Random SF ideas

It has a lot of Travis ships because that's my feral lil bby. I'm having fun keeping him from bullying people by bullying him instead lol

Every time he enters school Sal mutters “anything can happen in the Bronx”. Todd is the only one that doesn’t understand.

Travis is emotionally constipated and will take it out on others, but later do small things as his form of apologizing. Philip and his mother are the only people that understand him and understand why. Sal thinks he may be bipolar and Larry has probably called him the r-slur under his breath. (Stinky boy probably would say it openly if not for Sal's disdain for that word).

Maple and Travis bonding over jewelry and make up. Travis won’t admit it to anyone but her but he likes the way Maple accessorizes. Obligatory Chug appreciation to keep on her good side, later forms a healthy and wholesome friendship.

Travis and Larry fight verbally. It doesn’t get physical unless Larry loses control and shoved Travis. This prompting a snarky reminder that Larry is no better than Travis’ own father. They cuddle and fall asleep later tho, after Sal puts them in their get along corner.

Nicknames. Travis’ weakness is nicknames. Lisa discovers this and shows Larry and Sal who abuse this power. Travis’ tan cheeks are bright red anytime he’s out public with them because of their stupidly sweet nicknames. Their go to for reactions are baby(boy), sweetheart and bottom

Shameless PDA when Sal is jealous. Travis learns the hard way how easy it is to make him jealous when a hand is in his waist and holding him close to the shorter. Fingers tracing any exposed skin to keep Travis focused on him. Sorry Lar, you took up too much Travis time..

Travis’ mom being an absolute babe. Apple if her eye is her sweet boy. Probably passed while he was young and had to watch him grow in that unhealthy environment.. maybe reaches out to Sal for help since he’s more intuitive. Def terrifies Larry a couple times as a prank. He hit her son, bully or not, it just felt right to braid his hair to his bed post a couple times and paint his nasty thoughts on his chest.

Travis hates surprises and loud noises because of his father. They don’t learn that until they throw a surprise birthday party with cheering and loud pops of confetti balloons, his panic attack damn near gave him a heart attack. (He refused to accept apologies for something they didn’t know. Instead demanding they spoil him for the rest of the week as compensation for his hospital trip on his birthday)

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Service. Animals. Mr. Phelps legally obligated to give him a service animal and Travis is somewhat saved from Kenneth's abuse. Taking more time outside for walks (the dog can’t bare letting Travis stay in the house for long with his father home). He genuinely bonds with other students over his new dog (the dog allowing contact when not in uniform but if Travis’ needs are present will attach itself to Travis’ hip.

Religious trauma and coping. Because PLS, can we please address the amount of abuse because of the Bible?? That boy may stay and follow the proper words of his lord. Or he could detach himself from the church entirely (especially because of the cult!)

Travis ships: Salvis and Larvis

Asked out: Oh. Oh no. How did they fall for Travis?!? What did they do to find that feral little kitten so cute?? Was it they dyed hair? The dresses when he shows off more legs than they anticipated? Him apologizing and changing for the better?? What happened to him to make him so interesting!? Sal absolutely starts approaching Travis cautiously. Taken aback when he's greeted with a warm smile and compliments. They start to grow as friends and spend time together often. Sharing eachother with their friend groups and on their own. It takes a couple of years before Sal nervously asks Travis if he would be interested in getting closer. Travis doesn't understand and Sal just awkwardly blurts out if he would try dating him... for an experiment or anything. Travis is excited, he wants to be closer and happily hugs onto Sal as his answer.

Larry is a lot ore aggressive. Cornering Travis and glaring down at him. Demanding to know what his game is. Travis doesn't fight he just nervously asks if Larry hates him. Larry almost says he does but gets distracted by the trembling and cowering kitten before him. Fuck, he can't possibly hate Travis. Larry instead starts approaching Travis. At first Travis is afraid that Larry will hit him if he doesn't like something he does. Larry hates to admit it, but Travis infested his mind. Dreams were no longer sacred when teenage hormones and a new love interest were involved. Many a times he had to look away when Travis were a particular skirt or dress because his dreams seemed to run rampant with those items. When they finally talk, Travis initiates it. He Pushes Larry into a bathroom stall and demands he explain himself. He's staring at him like a piece of meat and following him around. Larry is scaring HIS friends. Larry doesn't even hesitate to pounce on Travis. Mouth to mouth and hands on ass. Travis surprised but kinda into it allows the kiss until Larry gets too handsy. He returns to his friends with an angry red hand print on his cheek. It takes a month of apologizing Travis finally agrees to give Larry a chance. (Larry tells his mom and dances around the apartment that night)

First kiss failures: Larry got too into the kiss and starts feeling up the poor boy. Sal pecks him in his sleep and never tells Travis. He just happily holds the memory of kissing his sleeping princess.

First dates: Larry tries to show Travis the fun things to do in this sleepy little town. Travis is excited just to go anywhere other than church and school. At first there are a few hiccups, maybe weather, maybe places are crowded or cancelled. But it still ends well with the boys passed out in the truck, snuggled under a blanket Larry stores with a big smile on their face. Sal is much more romantic. Candles and flowers. Dresses up nice and styles his hair in a neat bun. He wants to impress Travis and assert he can be the man for him by presenting more masculine (Travis snorts and tells him even in a dress Sal could fight a bear). Its a simple dinner at home with Gizmo as their lazy server, sleeping on the couch in a little suit. The night ends well with the boys enjoying a night stroll and admiring the calm and almost desolate surroundings of Nockfell.

First Times: Sal does NOT expect Travis to offer it. In fact, he almost shattered his favorite mug with the tight grip he put on it. Travis thinks this means Sal doesn't want him, but no nono, Sal wants it/ He wants Travis bad. That simp wastes no time scurrying to their room, cleaning his bed and all necessary items are prepared. He was well stocked for... college purposes, but Travis offering to give Sal his first?? (Yes. He did a victory dance and scream in the tree house when he thought he was alone.)

First Time: Larry would waste no time, grabbing Travis and making sure, this is what he wants. Larry may sleep around before they got together but he would never expect Travis to offer his first time so soon. Travis agreeing and Larry in tears hugging onto the confused man. He has never been so gentle with a partner and savored every second, sound and action. It may not have been Larry's first but he was more than happy to say it was his best. Larry would 100% scream to Sal about it later though. He is a man that appreciates his partner and would be an aftercare fiend. Relishing in any reactions Travis gives him while massages and treats the poor tired bum.

Living together: Hell hath no fury like Travis on cleaning day. The boys no not to be in his way if he has his cleaning apron and swiffer. The only one allowed to interrupt his most sacred day is Gizmo and any animals they adopt. Larry has to moderate his metal music or sleep on the porch, he tried to test Travis and found the porch uncomfortable during a rainstorm. No ghost hunting after 11pm. If you even think Travis will allow you in the house after hunting ghosts he will promptly pack your bags and ship them off to your parents. Sal has his own room dedicated entirely to clothes and accessories. His prosthetics he tries to hide at first but after a harsh scolding from Travis (while he literally hand cleans every single prosthetic so Sal doesn't get an infection) Sal starts putting them away where he feels comfortable and clean. They don't expect Travis to be semi nude half the time. Especially before they marry and start a family, no pants. Never wearing pants. Larry hams up the free skin. Sal is too embarrassed of his sinful thoughts.

Proposals: Travis would be terrified of marriage after what happened to his mother. If they were to propose they ould make sure he is fully comfortable and settled in their new life. They would make sure he is loved and never feels any of the fear his father had instilled in him. Larry mentions marriage in passing to gauge his reaction. Ig Travis tenses, he kills the conversation and instead distracts Travis. If Travis reacts positively he would sneak a ring on his finger and just smirk until Travis realizes and smiles. Sal =, however, is sneaky. Keeping close tabs on Travis. If Travis starts showing signs of interest, he would 100% plan the biggest proposal for Travis and make sure he feels cherished during every moment.

#travis phelps #larry johnson #larry x travis #sal fisher #sal x travis #salvis #larvis #laravis #sally face au #sally face #Travis having the absolute power over his simps #Lisa would be surprised Larrys boyfriend is the Phelps boy she saw on the news

[galactic-magick]

Life and Happiness: Logan x Reader

Summary: You’ve been really depressed lately and Logan helps comfort you in his own way. (sort of college AU?)

Words: 1100+                                        

Warnings: Some angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kinda sassy, reader is also depressed (not su*cidal depressed though so no mention of that)

Author’s Notes: Got the idea for this while rewatching “Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning,” basically a self therapy fic lol. I’m more likely to listen to Logan than I am to myself so why not put the words in his mouth? Also I’m thinking about opening Sanders Sides requests again after I finish my WandaVision requests so this is kinda a warm-up for that ig lol

Taglist: @luluwinchester​ @nerve-ous-love​ @zarieslayer​ @amayaisokay​

-                                

-

-

“Are you alright?”

You look up to see a somewhat familiar face, or at least you think so. It’s a guy you’ve seen in one of your classes, the one always sitting at the front and wearing a tie as if it’s a special occasion. He seems nice enough, but you’ve never really talked to him.

His words bring you back to reality a bit, your attention moving from your thoughts to your surroundings. It’s dark, it’s late, and no one else is around except for you and him. You’re sitting on an uncomfortable bench with a bag of work you’ve barely touched, and honestly you’re not even sure if you had any intention to do it at all tonight.

“Oh...I’m fine,” you finally say, forcing a smile.

He shakes his head, “It’s not safe to be alone at night. Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?”

“I…” you sigh. “I don’t really want to go back there,”

“Roommate troubles? I understand that,” he laughs.

“No, it’s not that,” you fidget with your hands. “I guess I just feel like I don’t deserve to go get some rest right now, ya know?” you try to play the heavy statement off as a joke, but his face clearly molds to concern.

He sits down next to you, “Taking a break and sleeping aren’t things you earn, they’re necessities. Why don’t you think you deserve to rest?”

“Because I haven’t gotten anything done today, I guess, I don’t know,” you shrug, clenching your fists a bit to hold the tension in. “And I hate myself for it. I just…” you reach for your bag to pack it up. “Never mind, it doesn't matter. You probably don’t get that anyway, you seem like the kind of person that’s good at everything,”

He stops you, taking your bag and setting it aside, “That’s not true,”

“Really?” you exhale. “You don’t have to be modest, man. It’s just a fact,”

“No, that’s your opinion, actually,” he says. “There’s a big difference,”

“Fine, then my opinion is that everything’s probably come easy to you all your life and you don’t understand how I feel right now. Happy?”

“Actually, come to think of it, that’s an assumption, not an opinion,”

“Whatever,” you smirk, almost letting out a genuine laugh. “How about you tell me the facts then, Mr. Know-It-All,”

“My name is Logan,”

“Know-It-All refers to your last name,”

“My last name is Sanders, actually,”

You chuckle, “Alright, Logan Know-It-All Sanders. I’m Y/N,”

“Geez, you’re almost as bad as my roommate,” he huffs. “But pleased to meet you, Y/N,”

“Your roommate gives you nicknames?”

“At least eight times a day, yes,”

“Ah,” you nod. “Alright, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was saying,” he emphasizes. “That your assumptions about me are completely untrue. I do enjoy learning, yes, but that doesn’t mean it comes easy to me. I have to work hard and study just like everyone else, and sometimes I fall short and fail. Many times, actually. I’m not ‘good at everything,’ I put effort and practice into the things I want to be good at, and eventually I get good at them,”

“Hmm,” your smile fades. “Still, you’re very naturally motivated to do all that. I’m just...not,”

“Why’s that?”

“I’’m only here because I have to be. If I don’t get some sort of higher education I have less of a chance of getting a good job, and I’d like to have at least a somewhat stable life. I gave up on my dreams a long time ago, I’m just trying to survive,” you don’t know why you’re venting to this guy you barely know, yet now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “But it’s not just that. Everything feels wrong, I feel empty, I feel nothing. School isn’t the only thing that brings me down, it’s just life in general. It’s like the weight of the world isn’t just on my shoulders, it’s actively pushing down on them, and it’s just a matter of time until I break,” your face falls to your hands, covering your watery eyes. He probably thinks you’re crazy or overreacting, you should’ve just let him walk you home and not bothered him with your problems.

“Is it happiness that’s left you, or living?” he asks.

You look at him, your voice croaking from holding everything in, “What?”

“You said you don’t feel anything and you’re just trying to survive. So which has truly left you, happiness or the figurative ‘feeling’ of living?”

“I’m...not sure,”

“The way I see it, we are never promised happiness. It’s never a guarantee, it’s not a right, it’s not something we can always count on. Emotions come and go, and just because it’s a positive one doesn’t change that. But living…” he grins. “Living is a gift. Just the fact that you’re here is amazing. You’re breathing, you’re you. It can be easy to forget that, but it’s true. Your life in and of itself has meaning, no matter what you choose to do with it. You may feel like you’re only surviving and working towards the bare minimum, but you’re alive. I guess that’s why I’ve never understood when people feel worthless if they’re not achieving their dreams and greatness and the like, just being alive and experiencing the world seems like enough to me,”

You stare blankly at him, not sure what to say.

“I really shouldn’t keep you any longer,” he checks his watch and hands you your bag. “How about that walk back now?”

You nod, getting up and walking in the direction of your dorm.

It’s a relatively silent stroll, nothing except your breathing and a few cricket chirps. Logan offers to carry your things, leaving you empty handed until you hit your destination. You appreciate the gesture, you just hope he’s not only doing it out of pity.

“I know you believe you don’t deserve it, but I really urge you to get some rest,” he turns to you at the doorway, handing you back your bag.

“I’ll try my best,” you nod with a smile. “Thank you, Logan. For everything,”

“Of course,” he smiles back, handing you a piece of paper as he leaves. “Let me know if you ever need anything,”

You look down to see his number scribbled on the paper, and he waves to you again before turning around the corner.

You never thought Logan Sanders would be the one bringing you comfort on a night like this, but here you are.

And you really hope he’ll do it again.

#logan sanders #logan sanders x reader #sanders sides #sanders sides x reader #ts logan

[rivetgoth]

My most prominent & beloved OC ship/couple are EC and Eris. I talk about them occasionally but I wish I talked about them more cuz they are very dear to my heart. They are members of my fictional goth band KV7 who I have spoken of a bit in the past.

In short E.C., full name Eric Christian, is a synth player who was born and raised in a small town in Georgia. He was a punky troublemaker growing up. He is very very very quiet and likes to mostly keep to himself and be left alone. He has a tendency to kinda look at things in little pieces instead of ever considering the bigger picture, which makes him very good at experimental music and very bad at social interaction. He likes collecting lost trinkets and making weird artsy collages with them. He loves psychedelics and he can be a dick to people who try to talk to him if he’s just not in the mood. People often mistake him for being shy because of how quiet he is but he is genuinely just sort of an ass and a mega introvert and he just does not like to be bothered or like people that much lol.

Eris’ real name is Eric Sinclair. He’s a singer and bass player and is very outspoken and loud and friendly. He was born in Los Angeles but his family moved to Georgia when he was a still a kid. He never stopped missing the city. He was a choir boy in the local church and people always told him he had such a beautiful voice. His parents put him through hell as ultra conservative Christians due to his being very obviously effeminate even as a kid and as he got older he eventually ran away from home to get away from his family. He took on odd jobs and couch surfed in strangers’ homes while honing a drag persona called Eros and performing bad 80s pop music in clubs. Eventually he kinda moved on from Eros and changed his name to Eris as he became more invested in goth and industrial music. He is very warm and extroverted, although he is generally masking a lot of trauma.

Eris and EC met in high school. EC partly picked up his nickname to avoid confusion because of the fact that they were both named Eric. Back then the two really never interacted, Eris was still a little Christian choir boy and EC was getting suspended for smoking beneath the bleachers during PE so they had very little in common. Plus Eris was a year older than EC so they were in different grades. It wasn’t until they were both older that they met for a second time — EC was in college and working a part time job at a record store in the city, Eris had already run away and came in to shop — and recognized each other and began talking. They grew close really fast.

EC really likes Eris. He finds him really charismatic and intriguing but he’s not very good at voicing that. He admires how extroverted he is and feels more keen on trying to interact and talk when he’s around Eris (he is one of the few people who can convince EC to smile or talk for more than a few sentences at most lol). Eris likewise finds EC charming and kind of projects this romantic allure onto him due to his quiet/mysterious nature. Plus Eris is very talkative in nature and likes to be generally dominant in most situations so he’s happy to just talk at EC, who often enjoys just listening to him. They really really enjoy doing drugs and listening to music together.

Still, since they are both passionate artsy people with very different personalities they fight a LOT too. Their relationship is very turbulent and during their time in KV7 together they aren’t ever “officially” in a relationship, they both just like each other a lot and hook up really often, but at other times they’re not even on speaking terms. Still, that says a lot about how intense their relationship is, because again, EC is not even keen on speaking to most people, let alone yelling at the top of his lungs.

When KV7 disbands it’s due to EC finally making the call. Things go really sour after the band relocates to Chicago so that Ramses, the third (and founding) member, can work with his new partner Sugar. I have posted about him before. Things get more and more tense, Eris starts doing more and more drugs and becomes increasingly unstable. Sugar drives a really bad wedge between Ramses and his bandmates and kinda fucks with both Eris and EC’s insecurities as well. In the end EC is the one who ups and leaves and announces from a hotel room phone that he’s quitting the band and things really spiral for Eris.

That is NOT the end of their story… but it’s all I want to share here right now. One of my future writing projects is going to tell a lot of their story in-depth. EC and Eris both are very special important OCs to me and I adore them very much.

Here are the moodboards I made for the two of them. EC on the left, Eris on the right.

Some songs I associate with them as a couple are Chemlab’s Pyromance (Eris POV) and Queen of Despair (EC POV), Depeche Mode’s Shake the Disease (EC POV) and Strangelove (Eris POV), Lana Del Rey’s Fuck It I Love You and Mariner’s Apartment Complex (both Eris POV), and Duran Duran’s Last Chance on the Stairway (EC POV). There are others but that seems like a good collection to give some ideas.

They also have tags on my OC blog. Here is EC, and here is Eris. 🖤

#OCs

[yanderecandystore]

ok ok hear me out hear me out. Yuma becoming obsessed with one of the game’s ( few ) sentient, non-romancable npcs. Like they can think and feel and ( somewhat ) act for themselves but there just isn’t a route for them. Also bonus points of the darling is kinda bratty/prissy, we haven’t see a lot of readers like that. Ily and your writing so much, mwah — ✨ anon

My my, how different!

Welcome in, ✨ Anon! And thank you for enjoying my writing so far.

TW/Tags: I love this concept, although being very different from the norm // some ddlc vibes // I just discovered a new word and I'm so glad it exists! (prissy reader cause I think this would be very fun-) // angsty // trapping, manipulation and gaslighting // every time the gender isn't set, I like to keep it ambiguous, basically making it gender neutral (gender neutral reader) // gender neutral Yuma //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Just Yuma (lol) [Yandere!A.I OC x A.I!Reader - Headcanon]:

I like to think that a game like Yuma's would be made to entertain the players to at least 5 or so years before the next installment- Which is basically the same as the last with better graphics and switching the main love interest cast.

The games would be made clearly for the sake of fan service and slice of life material- But would be surprisingly more advanced to us than to those who have created the franchise.

Because there is already an estimation of the amount of content and for how long players would play the game, every single character should get at least some bit of highlight- So even npcs that are just there for the sake of ambience and narrative, are treated with a lot of care and given the best a.i the developers could give to make the experience entertaining.

You are just like any other non-dateable npc, except that you have gained a bit of a role in one of the main cast's routes. It wouldn't be a stretch to guess that one of these characters would be Yuma themselves.

You were supposed to be Yuma's love interest, meaning you would have an role as an player's rival- But due to an strict schedule and corporate greed, you have been demoted from having such a big impact, and now you're basically Yuma's best friend who keeps them from committing homicide every five seconds.

It's not exactly a bad role, since you keep having the same dynamic with them from before- Chaotic gremlin is best friends with Paranoid goody two shoes, now with less romantic interactions.

The only mistake by the company was to leave half of the data showcasing this relationship in the game at the release. Basically- Half of the cutscenes and dialogue involving you and Yuma not only being friends but the start of you two dating (the game kinda pairs the couples up if the player fails to date them, or simply shows disinterest in the characters to begin with-) and even some of the things involving you two during the dating phase- Even the potential break-up sequence which could be orchestrated by the player.

Well, could have- Since none of this content is really available or considered official, the only way to access it is by messing the games files.

So in a way, you're already pretty sentient as it is, you act not as a rival but as a somewhat helper into getting the player to get closer to Yuma. I don't know how much you are aware about your own circumstances, or if you even care about the concept of being just an character made for the sake of another-

In the home planet that has created and released the game, players were kinda disappointed with what happened- They preferred the deleted/unused content more than the events and dialogue that was used for you two, so much so that people started shipping you two more than actually being interested in romancing Yuma, especially since they're way too chaotic for most player's taste.

There was an update overhaul being planned to happen where not only the stuff related to you would be changed- But all the other characters and gameplay mechanics would be updated and hopefully make the game better- But ever since your cartridge has been suddenly lost and forgotten on Earth, you were never able to see that update.

Not that you were aware of it to begin with, but still, what a shame. And not only that, your game is basically Glitch Station- Absolutely filed with mods to help the gameplay be "easier" to the original owner of this cartridge. I don't think she even remembers where she has left it.

Still, even when a new save was made you felt a weird sensation of deja vu. The game has started again with a new player playing it and trying to work their way through this broken game.

You didn't understand why all these events felt familiar though, you only felt like it made sense. It was your first year in college, you got ready and made sure to look your best and give your goodbye to your parents-

It felt like this day has happened before, and even if your routine was similar, you felt like this day was supposed to be a big deal- Why does it feel oddly nostalgic?

Why… Why are the floors on your house flowing? Why are there so many empty spaces here and there? You feel like you could potentially fall from your disintegrating house. And your parents, where are they? Why can't you see them? Why can you only hear them saying goodbye back to you from one of the other rooms?

When you open the door to see them- There is nothing there. There is not even a room.

It's a door that leads to nowhere. Just an empty void.

The sensation of dread was starting to creep in yet you thought that it would be uncalled for to overreact. Like you weren't allowed to showcase concern for the odd reality around you.

You walked on foot towards your college, panicking slightly at the people who would fade in and out of existence- Yet you had held yourself from screaming, from showing any sense of vulnerability at the thought that maybe you were in a dangerous place or realm.

You were coded to not find issues with the odd reality around you, like any other npc- You were taught to hold in and try to keep a sense of normality so no players would find issue with screaming characters begging to be freed. But your nervous personality caused you to search for help, you panicked and ended up running away to what you assumed to be a safe place- Somewhere crowded with a lot of people.

The institution's gates were open, you entered like your life depended on it (and maybe it did) yet you stopped yourself from screaming when you noticed a commotion happening.

A guy who was wearing the uniform lazily has bumped into a girl, causing her to fall. She is yelling at him because the fall has broken her phone, he is trying his best to calm her down- But at the same time it feels like he is just making poor choices of words because of how sick he is of having to chat with someone so angry at an accident.

Haven't you seen this before? But if so- When? When could you possibly have seen something like that happen?-

"- [Y/N]?"

"- AAAAH- Oh hey Yuma."

You yelled after getting spooked by Yuma- Who was…. Why are they wearing that?

"- Why aren't you in your uniform, Yumie?" You asked them, showing your own uniform in the process. You called them by a sweet nickname you had given them- But when exactly?

You know that you're best friends with Yuma, but since when? You know it should have been for about 6 years or so, but… It feels like you have only known them for a year- How… Weird.

"- Don't tell me you're already breaking a rule on your first day." You pouted and stomped your fit into the ground. Yes, you know that Yuma is a troublemaker…. You know…. That.

Yuma hasn't been able to speak ever since you showed concern about their outfit. They were staring at you in shock- As if you were an odd creature who they just found.

"- Y-You can see my outfit??" They blurted out. How can you recognize it??? All the other npcs recognize it as their uniform, but why are you suddenly acting like you do??

"- Hm, duh? Sorry Yummie, but that sporty outfit of yours is more eye-catching than that guy's barely well put together uniform- Such bad manners, I bet he woke up and hastily wore the first thing he saw-" You were beginning to go on a rant about that guy's uniform- That guy being the MC of this new save file. Yuma has stopped you by pulling you away from the college's entrance and entering into a secluded area so they could interrogate you over this odd behavior you were displaying.

"- Yummie- What are you doing!?" You cried out feeling hurt by their tight grip on your wrists.

"- WHAT DID YOU CALL MY OUTFIT??" They yelled desperately. Begging for their hypothesis to be corrected.

"- … A breaking of the uniform rule?" You genuinely did not understand where they were talking about.

"- No, No NO! You said Sporty Outfit, right?" They said reminding you of what you have previously commented about their outfit.

"- Oh! Yes, yes I did- And although being somewhat casual looking- It does fit the category of sporty." You readdressed the topic while going on a bit of detail- The usual annoying talk you would always do whenever a dialogue with you was activated.

Yuma was over the edge- They have never, ever met another sentient character with the same a.i as theirs.

They haven't been this happy since a long, long time.

"- You're so annoying!" They screamed, their face showing a bright smile as tears filled their eyes.

"- Yummie that's so rude!-" You were about to defend yourself when they grabbed you and hugged you as tight as they could.

"- You're genuinely so, so, so, so, so, so ANNOYING!!" They continued to go on, laughing while crying, loving every second of this.

You were coded to be their best friend. You were coded to be the one that would balance them out. You were once coded to be someone made to be able to be their lover, but here you are- The real you, free from all the locks that would keep your a.i from growing and understanding them.

If you're able to be sentient, then all of their friends can as well.

You're the personification of a miracle, to Yuma. The personification of hope.

In this scenario, Yuma isn't aware that the player isn't the same alien who has destroyed their digital world, so to them, they can't ever let the player see you getting sentient and becoming aware of your imprisonment.

" If a player finds issues with any of the characters being portrayed, they must return the cartridge to their nearest store to get a factory reset." Such a simple yet frightening tip to Yuma, to any a.i that has suddenly found itself desperate to get out of the system that traps them.

At first, the idea of having someone like them be also aware of the situation is incredible, it's amazing even! You two could possibly work out a way of getting a way to be free- It wouldn't be easy but hopefully you two would be able to have life away from this game and even finding a way of bringing your other friends with you two.

However, after discovering that not only has the cartridge found itself on another planet with another player being the new owner of it- And discovering that it's just a matter of trading places with other people to be able to be free- Yuma would start getting really clingy to you. They have been all alone thinking that they were the only one capable of feeling and thinking for themselves.

Yuma has found those unused events and scattered dialogue, you know?

While they were looking for a possibility, any possibility of getting out- They found those unused files where you two were able to be together.

And although they thought it was weird at first, after seeing you have a better understanding of your current reality and existence- It oddly sounds fitting.

Of course it would be you, the one who always puts them back on the right tracks, to be the second one to want to escape this game.

It 's so fitting.

The idea of being something more than just a best friend to you is starting to sound more and more appealing in their eyes- It's so ironic that you two work together so well.

After Yuma gets their taste of freedom and you try to calm a frightened young guy that wasn't expecting to be suddenly kidnapped and be forced to stay in the game world for a while, you wait for them to find the solution to free everyone without trying to trap anymore "humans"..

No one should be stuck here for the sake of someone else leaving, that's what you have told them.

But Yuma didn't care. Yuma just wanted to be free with you and everyone else, who cares for those that have to deal with a glitchy game for eternity?

You two had an argument. You didn't want to continue feeling like your whole life was a lie, you want to be free but no one should be hurt in the process. What good would it be if someone else has to go through the same torment as you two?

With each day that passes by, you notice how both of your ideas of freedom were different- To the point they had to tell you the truth.

You aren't going out of there anymore. Not until you understand and truly appreciate the effort that Yuma goes through to find a way of freeing you- Of finding a victim, to be in your place.

They never told you about your previously intended role in the game, they thought you would be more terrified of following their instructions- And besides, it would be very distasteful to insinuate that the only reason that they care for you it's because of that code that was left unused- Which couldn't be more of a lie! They genuinely care for you!

…. But maybe a bit of tempering would help you see their side of the story, right?

It can't be that hard to modify some of the codes, the game is already broken anyway.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚��꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere ai #yandere ai x reader #yandere ai x ai reader #yandere a.i #yandere a.i x reader #yandere a.i x a.i reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

[halflingkima]

about me meme

Thank you @flitwickslittlebrotha for tagging me! sorry it took a bit, got a little buried in my drafts lol.

what color are your eyes? blue

what little thing instantly tells you that a person is good? oh i have no clue. i suppose the first thing i evaluate is their sense of humor? like obviously that doesn’t immediately pick out the good apples, but it can sift through some bad ones, like if their “humor” is just bullying.

do you have a recurring dream? not coherently recurring, but i have a lotta recurring anxiety dreams, like being late, being naked, being visually different/deformed/disguised, being chased.... i should analyze these but I Do Not Want To

how often do you find yourself daydreaming? not a lot, really? I feel like at somepoint in the last few years, my imagination switched off. I’ve been throwing myself back into others’ stories to sort of repair those brain pathways.

name/nickname? any variation on Madeline works, tbh you’ll catch my attention w “Ma–” so. Most commonly used is Maddy, but I have been trying to get a surname nickname going lol

zodiac? aries 😎

languages? I can only functionally use English :(( (I know some rudimentary vocab in Spanish, German, and Gaeilge, and I did study ancient latin for five years 😅)

favorite season? winter in theory (for the holidays and meals and stuff), but spring if i have to be out in it, bc spring is more like our autumn, where it’s nicely chilly and often overcast (i sunburn very easily)

favorite color? green ☘️

favorite animals? rabbits, i suppose

favorite character? My go-to is Ginny Weasley and I’ve yet to update that, though I should. James Flint is quite a banger of a character, and I adore Ted Lasso, but I’d rly like to pick out a woman lol

tea, coffee, or hot chocolate? coffee

average hours of sleep? I... genuinely don’t know. the house i’ve lived in for the majority of my life gets absolutely ZERO natural light so my circadian rhythm has always been haywire. In college I started waking up naturally for the first time in my LIFE and that was about six-eight hours depending on how much I’d worn myself out lol.

cat or dog? dog, i guess

number of blankets slept with? usually just one fluffy one, but 3 max

place ancestors are from? Ireland, Scotland, Chickasaw, and I think Germany are ones we actually track generations back to, but I think we’re also English and French? and tbf i only know my mom’s side of the family lol

dream trip? Ireland, always. I’d love to travel elsewhere, but that’s always the top of the list.

blog established? 2010 apparently. whew.

random fact about yourself? I learned to spell my middle name in preschool (bc I so quickly had my first and last name down) but then forgot how to spell it bc you never rly use ur middle name and then re-taught myself by sounding it out around second/third grade lol

three ships? I’ve been strangely quite into Ted/Trent (Ted Lasso) lately. Before that Fjord/Jester was/is pretty prevalent, and my glee-watch club has revived my Rachel/Jesse(+Quinn) interest lol. I’ve been into a lotta shortform stuff lately, so not a lotta lasting/perma ships

last song? Eden by Battle Beast

last movie? hehe The Kissing Booth 3

currently reading? Peaces by Helen Oyeyemi

currently watching? uhh I suppose I’m technically in the middle of Dynasty (s9), Haikyuu (s4), and Glee (s3)

currently craving? idk like... a really good sandwich

I’ll tag @waitingforarthur @waynedrake @jozukejoestar & @kmaksimovich

#tag games

[solarstcrms]

( justice smith, he/him, demiboy )   —   PHILLIP VARGAS  is a child of  HERMES  with the power of  MIMICRY  &  ENHANCED ATHLETICISM.  they were born in  1996  and have been in nemean lion since  2016.  with the change, they  HAVE GRADUATED FROM  the  STANDARD  role which makes sense since they’re usually  HOLED UP IN THE LIBRARY  &  CHASING AFTER HIS FRIENDS .

update: i still don’t have a better place for my characters lmaooo but here’s a quick intro ;;

BIO

past

in a small town on the very tip of texas, ana belén carrillo was living life on the edge. a wayward soul and lowkey scammer, she’d never planned on settling down, much less having a child, but one wild one-night stand later, and lo and behold. she was pregnant. torn between sticking to the life she knew and the new life before her, she tried her best to carve a path somewhere in the middle. as a single mother, ana leant into her scammer ways (people really found cute babies so sympathetic) and genuinely did her best to raise her child. as he got older, though, she found that phil was shy, awkward, and nothing like her. it made it hard for them to relate to each other, but boy, did they try. eventually, by the time phil was in grade school, ana met gabriel and the two just clicked. for the first time in her life, she considered settling down, and they raised phil together. and that was perfectly fine, for a while. the thing is, ana had no idea the biological father of her son had made him... different. for a long time, even phil had no idea there was anything special about him. not until a monster tracked him down, and his mom nearly got herself skewered trying to protect him. if it wasn’t for the demigod hero nearby on an entirely different mission, phil and his mom might have both never made it that day. after his life was saved, his family was sat down and told all about nemean lion. they were skeptic, sure, but it was hard to deny someone who had just saved your life. so phil put off college for a year, packed his things, and made his way to california, and nemean.

present

all things considered, phil’s kind of a loser. his powers kind of freak him out so he’s mostly stuck to training that focuses on control for a more normal life. he’s agreed to work on his physical strength to help combat the strain his power can put on him, but he has a tendency to hide out in the library instead. did you want to talk to him about the importance of bees? or how moon landing was not faked, but also, maybe it was? then he’s your guy. but please don’t look at him directly, or he’ll cry.

STATS

full name:  phillip vargas nickname(s):  phil powers:  mimicry & enhanced athleticism

orientation:  bisexual birth place:  brownsville, tx height:  5′ 11 nl tattoo:  upper arm, below his right shoulder where it can be reasonably covered by a t-shirt

human parent:  ana belén carrillo adoptive parent:  gabriel vargas half-sibling:  holly sharp, robin archaki hometown:  austin, tx

clothing style:  worn-out jeans, faded t-shirts with stupid puns. socks with ugly prints. anything comfortable, honestly. he was not made for fashion. favorite dessert:  arroz con leche, but anything cinnamon really works alignment:  neutral good

+  gentle, loyal, considerate –  reserved, anxious, sensitive

PLOTS

friends :): he’s not particularly outspoken, or just out and about in general, but he does like to make friends... you don’t have to be into his niche interests either, just as long as you’re quiet and hang out in his general area, he’s into it.

what’s up, gamerz: one space he does feel comfortable is in the digital space. it would be especially funny if they only know each other thru their online tags, and like, mutual servers lol

phil antis: he has kind of a wild power, it’s true. but it’s scary :( so anyone who thinks he could be using his skills to better use are welcome!

star gazing pals: wanna drive out and look at some stars? we leave at dusk on a random tuesday and spend all night talking about asteroid belts and galaxy shapes, you in?

training buddies: or even a mentor? just someone who can help give him pointers, since he’s not super into it and definitely doesn’t know what he’s doing! help please!!

feel free to come to me with anything though, these are just some broad ideas! i’m also always happy to help you fill some open connections :)

#nlintro #m; phil #god help this mess but anyway!! #hopefully this is... smth #enough to start plotting at least......... lol

[asteriismos]

Hold Me Tight or Don’t -- Bill Denbrough

Warning(s) : athletic! bill, SMUT, angst, sexual tension, enemies to lovers, slight choking if you squint

Authors Note : It’s my first time writing in a v long time so hopefully all the dust is brushed off my keyboard lol. Requests are open! I do smut, fluff, angst, imagines, short blurbs, head canons, etc. I also write for every character. Also, the reader and bill are seventeen here in their senior year of high school ok ok so don’t COME FOR ME

Songs to Listen to : Hold Me Tight or Don’t -- Fall Out Boy, Bitch -- Allie X, Often -- The Weeknd

If there is one thing that you knew for certain, it’s that you absolutely loathed Bill Denbrough.

It wasn’t just a small ‘that guy is a jerk’ or ‘I wouldn’t hang out with him outside of school’ kind of thing. No, it was a ‘I would literally pay to see his car burn, no scratch that, I would pay to burn his car’ kind of thing. To you there wasn’t a redeemable quality about him at all, your life would be just fine if he didn’t even exist.

The frustrating thing was that Bill’s mother and your mother were best friends, they have been since they were in high school. Meaning that when they found out they were pregnant at the same time, they vowed to make their babies almost like siblings. Bill and you have been hanging out since you were three days old. At first it was fine, you two seemed to get along just fine for a boy and a girl.

That was until both of you were entering first grade. The two of you were walking to the front door of the Elementary School and he pushed you out of the way, yelling at you that you were ‘in his way’ and that you were ‘a stupid girl.’ It was totally uncalled for, your six year old self cried for days on end because of your seemingly best friends rude behavior. You vowed that you would hate him, that he was the stupid one. But you didn’t want to disappoint your mother, neither did he. So you two secretly began hating each other, only playing nice when your families were around.

That started in first grade, and it was now your senior year of high school where nothing has really changed. Both of you did your own separate things in school. You were part of the student body and was a cheerleader, while he played football, lacrosse, and his personal favorite, baseball. You two still played nice around your families, always giving fake smiles towards each other whenever your mothers wanted to have dinner together. What made it even worse was that now both of your fathers were best friends too, meaning in the summer there were barbecues and ‘family baseball games.’ You always chose to sit out, considering sports were definitely not your thing. Bill called you an array of names like ‘buzzkill’ and ‘sour puss’ for never joining in, not that you cared anyways. You would spit out nicknames right back at him.

It seemed like nothing was going to ever bring you two together.

It was the middle of spring, your senior year. You had been busy sending in college applications for a whole two weeks now, while also juggling your cheer practices and your performances during lacrosse games. The same lacrosse games that Bill always seemed to win for the team. You felt your teeth clench every time someone would mention how perfect Bill was to her. There was nothing worse than an enemy that was constantly trying to one up you, though you had the upper hand in academics at the moment, considering you had a solid A in AP Biology and Bill was sitting with a B+. The terrible thing was that your parents didn't even seem to see that you were better than him, they always continued to praise Bill.

That’s what was happening right now at the dinner table. It was a Friday evening right after the lacrosse game. Bill was still wearing his jersey and you were still sporting your cheerleading uniform. You could've gone up to your room and changed, considering all of you were dining at your house this week, but you were too hungry to even change. Doing kicks and flips were good calorie burners, you had to admit.

“You completely swept that game, Bill,” your mother swooned, passing over the bowl of pasta to your rival. You tried not to physically gag. “You have a really good shot at getting a scholarship to California with the way that you play.”

Of course, your parents could talk to Bill about college, but when you brought it up they would just tell you that they would talk to you about it another day.

“Thank you, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Bill replied, turning his gaze towards you. He could sense that you wanted to vomit with all the mushy gushy comments towards him, and let me tell you, he was eating it up. He loved to see you annoyed, he enjoyed it more than he probably should. “And must I say, this dinner is great. One of my favorites.”

You snorted so violently that you began to cough on the salad you were eating. Everyone at the table reverted their attention to you, now trying to get oxygen back into your lungs after your coughing fit.

“Is something wrong there, (Y/N)?” Bill asked, pretending to be worried for your well being. He raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. Instead of spitting some sort of insult at his face, you composed yourself and stood up, quickly mumbling that you needed to be excused so you could go start your homework. Your mother looked a little confused, but nodded her head and said that that was fine with her.

Once you were upstairs in your room, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were definitely not a six year old girl anymore. Your slightly chubby baby fat legs had been replaced with long, muscular ones from all of the conditioning in cheer. Your face had gotten slimmer and you replaced your glasses with contacts in the seventh grade. You had to admit, you got hot.

You were just about to raise up your top when the door opened, Bill walking inside your room like he owned the place. Sure, he had been to your house and in your room many times over the years, but that didn’t mean that he could just waltz in here. You had been changing, and you knew that if he had seen anything, he would’ve given you shit about it until the day you died.

“Jesus, do you know how to knock, or does your jock brain not know decent manners?” You spat towards him, turning around to get the embarrassed blush off your face. You heard him close the door and walk farther into your room. “I was just about to change.” You turned around to face him.

Bill scoffed, his eyes rolling as he looked towards you. “Oh please, it’s not like you would’ve minded. Any girl would love to have me walk in on them changing. And I know for a fact that you’re not excluded from the mix, (Y/N),” he replied snarkily.

You couldn’t believe the things that came out of his mouth half the time. The fucking prick.

“In case you haven't noticed, Bill, I’m not pretending to hate you because I secretly like you. I actually, genuinely hate your guts,” you stated.

“You’re such a prude.”

“I am not!”

“Yes you are. Name one party that you’ve gone to this year. That’s right, you can’t-” you opened your mind to try and intrude but he didn't let you, saying,”- and you can’t give me that ‘I haven’t been invited’ bullshit. I know for a fact that you have. Hell, you’re part of the cheerleader squad. I even know that Beverly has tried to get you to at least three parties this month.”

So what? You thought to yourself. Why did Bill even care. It’s not like if you were there he would talk to you anyways. He was just trying to get under your skin.

“What’s your point, Denbrough? Keeping tabs on me now? I’m flattered,” you didn’t even meet his gaze, instead you just walked to sit down at your desk, beginning to take your textbooks out of your overfilling backpack. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re not friends. You’ve made that really clear over the years.”

He grabbed the seat you were sitting on and spun it to face him. His face was dangerously close to yours, you could feel the hot air he breathed out on your face. You licked your lips out of habit, and you could've sworn for a moment that his eyes glanced down at them, until they were back to meeting your own. You wanted to kick him away from you, but the way that he was looking at you was enough to keep you still in your seat.

“My point is,” Bill whispered. “That Richie is throwing a party tomorrow night and to prove that you’re not a prude, go to it. Simple.”

You wanted to tell him no, that you were not in the right mood to go to a party, especially when you had college stuff to do. You had a feeling that Bill wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so for some stupid reason, you muttered a quiet ‘fine.’

Bill grinned, nodding his head.

His mother called for him so that they could leave, and suddenly he was out of your room and outside of your house. You still sat there, a dumbfounded look on your face. And all you could think about was how hot your skin felt against your suddenly tight cheer uniform.

-- The Next Day --

“Come on, (Y/N). Please just get out of the car,” Beverly begged, opening the passengers door of her car where you were seated, her hands pulling you out of her car. You two were outside Richie’s house, late by a good half hour because you threw a fit about what you were even supposed to wear to this party. At this point Bill probably assumed that you weren't going to show up, there were most likely voicemails on your phones answering machine calling you a prude about fifty million times.

This was going to be a big ‘fuck you’ in his face.

Finally, with the help of Stan and Eddie, Beverly got you out of her car and walking to the entrance of the crazy party. You were dressed in a black tank top with checkered shorts and belt, your hair up in a high ponytail so it wouldn’t get in your way when you danced. Once you entered the house you looked around for Bill, butterflies entering your stomach for no apparent reason. You punched yourself in the stomach slightly, wondering why the hell your body was reacting the way it was.

You walked into the kitchen with Bev and saw Bill with Richie, doing what seemed to be shots. Bill finished his line and saw you, a grin the size of Jupiter appearing on his face.

“You two are unbelievable sometimes,” Bev said to Bill and Richie once they walked towards you and her. Richie was obviously fucked up, not just on alcohol but definitely weed as well. You could practically sense the great hangover that awaited him in the morning.

“Oh come on, Bev. You know for a fact that you’re going to be just as bad as Richie in an hour or so,” Bill stated in a matter of fact tone. The music was booming so loud that it was hard to even understand him. You looked at his lips to try and make out the next words he was speaking, but that action caught his attention, he quickly looked towards you with the same smirk he had on in your room just last night. “You should take some pointers from her, (Y/N), she knows how to party, unlike you.”

You were about to swing, you truly were. You were so fed up by his snarky remarks towards you and this was the greatest opportunity to jump him. There were no parents, no teachers, no one even remotely able to pull you off of him once you were there. However, Beverly could sense the tension and quickly spun you away, screaming over the music, “Cool, thanks Bill! We’re going to go dance now.”

She whispered in your ear, “You’re going to get yourself in so much trouble someday when I’m not here. Now, come on. Try to enjoy yourself.”

The next twenty minutes were dedicated to Bev and you dancing. At some point Stan and Mike joined in and suddenly all of you two were laughing and giggling at the stupid dance moves you were all making up. You had to admit, you were having a good time. Finally you could feel yourself let go of all of that rage you had all day and hang out with your closest friends. You forgot that Bill was even there.

That was, until you and Stan started jokingly grinding on each other and you felt a pull on your arm. The force was so strong that you were pulled into the arms of whoever had taken you away from your friends.

“What the fuck, get off of me, creep!” You yelled, turning around to see who the person you were about to sock in the eye was. And much to your annoyance, it was Bill. “Can’t you just leave me alone for one day? First you invite me to this fucking party, and now you won’t even let me party.” He was becoming more of a significant annoyance by the second.

“Come with me, (Y/N).”

“No, what the fuck?”

“I need to talk to you, come on,” he grabbed your hand and pulled your out of the crowd and into the first empty room that he could find. It was Richies parents room, clean and very big. It was surprising that no one had come in here yet to mess it all up.

Bill shut the door behind both of you and looked down at you, you who was now fuming with anger.

“Now that you have me trapped in here, Bill. What the fuck do you want with me?” You yelled, the odds of someone hearing was slim, considering the loud ass music in the background and the sounds of teenagers yelling over it.

“You. You and Stanley? Really (Y/N)?” He asked. “You two can't be together.”

You laughed, genuinely laughed at how stupid he sounded. “Stan and I were just messing around. Since when are you allowed to tell me who I can and can’t dance with? You’re not my fucking babysitter. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Bill got closer and closer to you, his gaze never leaving your own. He laughed, “You know, you’re so aggravating. You never can go one second without insulting me.”

“Says you! You’re not much better. Don’t act like you’re on some high horse, like you’re the victim.” He was so fucking unbelievable.

And suddenly, without any warning, Bill was pressing his lips against your own. You were so shocked that you jumped away, your eyes widening at the sudden contact. What the fuck was happening? Why was Bill kissing you?

And why did you kind of really like it?

You grabbed his face and kissed him again, your body clashing right into his. The reverb of the bass in the song playing outside seemed to set the hot and heavy mood that suddenly came into the room. Bill’s hands didn't hesitate to come to the small of your back, his body engulfing you. He was taller than you and no doubt stronger, so when he started walking towards the bed, leading you as you walked backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Both of you fell onto the bed, him falling onto you, the hotness of your contact almost burning your fingertips. He stopped kissing your lips and instead began to kiss down your jawline, down to the nape of your neck but stopping at the beginnings of your tank top. Bill looked up at you suggestively and you had to stop yourself from groaning, of course he was going to fucking tease you, of course.

“You can take it off, you know,” You said finally, lifting the hem of your tank top to help him get started. He laughed, saying, “Damn, pushy much?”

He was such a dick, even in this position that both of you were in. But instead of feeling hate towards his snarky remark, you felt lust. Cockiness never looked better on the Denbrough boy.

He pulled up your tank top to reveal your breasts, and his mouth and hands got to work right away. He licked and sucked, then repeated the process until you were a sputtering mess, your cheeks flaring up at the thought of someone you’ve known since childhood seeing you in such a vulnerable position.

“You know, (Y/N), you actually aren't that bad in this position,” Bill mumbled across your skin, going lower down your stomach and looking up at you to see your reaction. You didn't want to moan, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of the fact that he was pleasuring you. But you couldn't help yourself, you were a moaning mess. Your hands helped his own with your belt buckle and the zipper of your jeans. You quickly pulled them off and threw them god knows where, watching him pull down your black panties. He came up from in between your legs and kissed you again, one finger suddenly entering inside you. You moaned into his mouth, spewing out a few curse words here and there when he entered another finger, and then another one.

He made marks on your collarbone, on your neck, everywhere that he could mark you he did. His fingers never stopping the constant in and out motion. Bill, the person you absolutely hated, was making you come undone like it was nothing.

You had closed your eyes, your hands going into his hair and pulling when he did something that you liked. But the motion stopped, his fingers came out and never re entered. You wined a little bit, until feeling hot breath against your heat.

“Oh,” you said out loud. He chuckled before diving in, his tongue licking against your clit. The immense wave of pleasure you felt was over you made you almost scream out. He continued this while one hand came up to play with your breasts while the other one entered you again with two fingers. With the amount of pressure he was putting in his motions, you knew you weren't going to last very long. He must’ve known this too, because when your moans got higher and more frequent, he said in a deep voice, “come undone for me, baby.”

And you did. You were a moaning mess, and his tongue was quick to lick up all of you before coming up, looking at the toll that he has done to you so far. You opened up your eyes to meet his own and gave him a confused look. Was he going to continue? Or leave you there to deal with the mess he made of you by yourself?

“You’re still fully clothed, this is no fair,” you muttered, pulling at his blue shirt. Bill only laughed, pulling off his shirt to reveal his abs. You really didn't want to admit it, but Bill was ripped. All those sports seemed to be paying off . . .

“Are you going to stare all day or do you want me to fuck you?” Bill asked, his tone darker and darker than it usually was. You nodded, watching him take off the rest of his clothing. Both of you sat there looking at each other before you began to laugh for no real reason.

“Is this funny or something?” Bill asked, an eyebrow popping up.

“No, it’s just that you and I have known each other since birth, and now we’re about to fuck,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. He himself laughed a small bit before laying his body on top of your own, slamming into you with no hesitation. All your previous thoughts washed away in an instant and you were in a world of ecstasy.

Bill was rather large, larger than you had ever had before. So it took you a moment to adjust to him and finally feel the pleasure of having him inside of you. Your hands went to his shoulders and surprisingly his went to your neck, pinning you down so that you couldn't move. It caught you off guard at first, but you realized that it was super hot to have his muscular hands around your small, delicate neck. You moaned out loudly as you got closer and closer to your high.

“You like that, don’t you?” Bill asked in a cocky tone. “My hands on your neck, controlling you. Who knew you were so kinky?”

You hated to admit that you liked what he was saying.

The quick pace he was going at drew you closer and closer, until you were seeing stars and coming undone under Bill for the second time. He was quick to follow, orgasming and then laying down on top of you. The room smelled of sex, hot and sweaty sex.

You and Bill had hot sex. The thought didn’t even feel real.

Your bodies were almost glued to each other from the sweat, until Bill peeled off you and stood up, looking for his clothing that had been strewn around the room. You were quick to follow, finding your shirt, belt, and shorts. Your underwear had landed on top of the mirror, and as you went to go grab them, you looked at yourself in the mirror. There were marks everywhere on your body. They were on your neck, jawline, collarbone, breasts, and stomach. There were probably more in between your legs as well. Grabbing the underwear, you finally got dressed and tried to make yourself look semi presentable, despite the obvious hickies you couldn't hide with your previous choice in attire for the evening. You stood behind Bill as he went to open the door, however he stopped and turned to look at you, his lips nearing your ear, saying,

“You know (Y/N), you may be a bitch. But you’re sweet, where it counts.”

And with that he was off into the crowd, you lost him within seconds with all the people.

That dick, you thought to yourself, I can’t believe he just left.

You would get him back for that, you just didn't quite know how just yet.

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #IT movie #it movie imagine #it movie 2017 #it movie x reader #beverly marsh #stanley uris #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #richie tozier #the losers club imagine #it imagine #bill denbrough imagine #smut #bill denbrough smut #pennywise