#anyways come talk to me about hugs or send the two of them some hugs in the inbox or write a little thing or plot!!!
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thinking about peter and liam and hugs. the way that they hug, the half drag that peter does to bring himself into an embrace because he’s so constantly exhausted and the way he goes in for an embrace if someone is close by to do so. he lets the hugs come to him. the way he hopes constantly to be hugged. the way liam practically throws themself at other people and nearly topples them over and holds on tightly because they need to cling to something solid and they are constantly jumping off burning ships to find some support. thinking about hugs
#guys i hugged people last week… highly recommend#anyways come talk to me about hugs or send the two of them some hugs in the inbox or write a little thing or plot!!!#h u g s#lk. believe / headcanons#PBP. still turning out / headcanons
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do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much
yes! love u ty
—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k
James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day.
That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second.
Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that.
You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top.
Hi James,
please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.
Worst,
Your unhappy adjacent desk.
You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone.
An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.
Hi bestie,
I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy.
Best,
James Potter :)
He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work?
You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up.
I could report you to HR for that last one, you send.
He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me.
You’ll be deaf by thirty.
Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music?
Jealous of everyone in the annex.
Want a cup of coffee?
You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it.
He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness.
“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office.
You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.
Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip.
“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand.
You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways.
Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?”
“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.”
James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?”
You still. She?
“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.”
You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen.
“Try not to think about it,” Remus says.
“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees.
Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick.
“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.”
“It’s too much work.”
“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.”
You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.”
James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks.
“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.”
“But you’d do it?”
“How long will you be off for?”
James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly.
“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” Remus says quickly.
James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?”
“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?”
James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.”
You can’t look at him very long.
The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible.
“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.
You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask.
“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”
“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.”
“I know. James knows that too.”
You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that.
Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you.
You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”
James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?”
“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”
“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.”
“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.”
You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.”
“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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I've been thinking non stop about Mike liking Abby's new daycare teacher but is too shy to do anything so Abby just casually mentions that her big brother has a crush on you and is doing weird things like checking his hair and only wearing the same pants two days in a row instead of four. So when u spill that Abby told u he doesn't know whether to be mad at her or not bc if ur wasn't for her he would have a date
I LOVEE THESE TYPES OF THINGS GN! READER
you’re sweet, patient, professional while managing to slip in some casualness to the conversations that you and mike have (short and cordial always) that make him feel like you’re more of an acquaintance and not just someone he indirectly pays.
you’re young, around his age he assumes, and he confirms his assumptions when he’s questioning abby.
“your, uh, new teacher,” he starts as he’s finishing up dinner (spaghetti again).
abby hums from behind him. “what about them?” mike turns to glance at his sister who sits on the counter, her feet thudding against the cheap cabinets with the way she kicks them.
he turns back to the stove, shrugging and scratching at his ear. “nothing i was just wondering about them. like … are they … cool?”
and mike is so glad that abby has always been the more talkative one out of the two of them because she’s immediately thrusting herself into an analysis of your quirks and how you really care about the children.
long story short, abby likes you just as much as mike does. even more, actually.
she’s always running to hug you when mike drops her off and picks her up, and he distantly wishes he could do the same. he thinks he’s playing it cool, sending you tight lipped smiles and waves that are a little too disjointed.
but abby is more perceptive than he thinks.
each time he tells himself he’s going to have an actual conversation with you. maybe mention the band tee you wear on a casual friday or ask about the song you were humming before he’d arrived. there’s intentions for him to get to know you and eventually ask you out.
but he backs out each time.
leaving abby to play matchmaker.
when mike comes in one thursday afternoon, hoodie soaked from the thunderstorm outside, he greets you and notices that your smile is a little more bashful than usual. abby is running around with her friends inside, playing an intense game of indoor freeze tag, and mike is trying to get her attention but you stop him.
“they can play for a while longer. i couldn’t let both of you go out in that storm.”
he looks out the window and notices that somehow, it’d gotten stronger.
“uh, do you want something hot to drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee?” you sound shy, maybe, but mike can't figure out why.
he's just grateful for a chance to spend time alone with you.
“coffee would be great, actually.”
you and mike end up in the kitchen of the small cafeteria, each drinking your respective drinks in silence, until you speak.
“um, i hope i’m not overstepping.” mikes ears perk up because that’s never a good start. “but abby told me that you have a crush on me. is that true?”
fucking abby.
his ears redden immediately, head dropping as he considers how to play this. but before he can even decide, you’re speaking again.
“because if so, i just want to let you know that i feel the same.”
he lifts his head too quick, a little bit of his coffee spilling out of the loaned mug with the movement. he doesn’t care about that, though, at least not immediately. instead, he focuses on you. he searches your face for a joking smile, maybe a little bit of mischief in your eyes. but there’s nothing but honesty in them.
he takes the plunge.
“would you wanna do something … sometime?” not very descriptive but you smile at him anyway.
“i would love to.”
god bless abby.
#he’s so cutesy#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt#fnaf movie
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Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?
SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?
WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!
COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!
Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.
Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.
After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.
Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.
As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.
(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)
Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.
He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.
(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)
Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.
At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.
Just like you, he hopes.
Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.
If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.
If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?
Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.
Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.
Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.
Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.
He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”
♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
#Rhea’s TWST Fics~!#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twst fanfic#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#Leona Kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#Azul Ashengrotto#Azul Ashengrotto x reader#Jamil Viper#Jamil Viper x reader#Vil Schoenheit#Vil Schoenheit x reader#Idia Shroud#Idia Shroud x Reader#Malleus Draconia#Malleus Draconia x reader
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Boyfriend
Paige Bueckers x Fem! Reader
Summary: Paige is just the definition of boyfriend.
Warnings: Nothing? Maybe kissing and some smutty talk?
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Paige is the definition of boyfriend. Which might seem weird to some, because she is a girl, but not to you.
Ever since y'all have became friends in high school, she has always looked out for you, got you anything you wanted and asked for, took you out to dinner and paid for the two of you when y'all would go shopping. Even thought she didn't want to.
Anyother way she was the definition of boyfriend. She did anything you wanted, whenever you wanted.
She is insanely whipped for you, always has been.
Thats the reason people found out about y'alls relationship...
--
"Paige can you go out to the car and grab my phone charger?" You asked sitting on the couch, your legs dropped over her legs and she was playing a game on the TV with KK in the teams apartment.
"Yeah, of course." She said almost immediately, throwing the controller on the couch and leaving the game and KK abandoned.
KK's mouth flew open in shock as she stood up like she got shot.
"Wow P, we were almost done with this game and you just leave?" Paige turns around while grabbing the door handle, "She needed a charger." She says as she shrugs her shoulders and makes eye contact with you while smiling, turning around and leaving out of the door, towards the car.
"Don't think I don't see what's going on." You hear KK say as she crosses her arms and squints her eyes.
Smiling innocently, you say "I don't know what you're talking about."
--
Another time y'all were caught is when the team and some friends went out for a pool day. Of course Paige invited you, and some of the team did too, enjoying your company because you were always over.
As you and Nina lazied out in the sun tanning and talking about current life status, you hear Azzi yell from beside y'all.
Looking over you see Paige and Ice have thrown water balloons at Azzi.
You see Paige raise her hand, a ballon in it, readying to throw, you stop her.
"Paige Madison Bueckers, don't you throw that at me. Put it up." Her face drops and she lowers her hand at your cold expression.
"Okay." Ice, Azzi, Nika and some others who watched what just happened turned to Paige in shock. Nobody could ever get stubborn Paige to listen to them like that.
"Ooouuuu." Heads turn to Kk who is hugging herself and making kissy noises, earning a push in the pool from Paige.
"I see you two." Azzi says with a wink to Paige, making her smirk and look at you, sending you a wink and walking away to put the ballon back up like you said.
--
The final time, which assured everyone of your relationship, was the WNBA draft.
You, Paige, and Azzi went to support their teammates start their professional basketball carrers.
"Babe, come on were going to be late." You hear Paige yell from outside of the bathroom in y'alls private hotel room.
"Coming." You yells as you open the door, "Can you help me zip up my dress, love?" You ask, moving your hair, giving her a clear view.
She whistles and walks up to you, grabbing your hips and pulling your back against her front. Smiling, and enjoying the view, she looks at you through the mirror and starts kissing your neck.
Seeing where this is going, you push her away. "No babe, just zip it up for now. I promise when we get back we can have as much fun as we want too." She rolls her eyes at your words, zipping up your dress anyways.
"You owe me for making me deal with being able to look at you in this dress and not being able to touch until later tonight."
-
When y'all arrive to the event, she can't keep her hands off of you. Wanting everyone to know you're hers, and only hers.
"Get a room" You two hear when y'all reach y'alls seats, her smacking your ass right before you sit down did not go unnoticed by her curly haired friend.
"She says not until tonight." Paige says, earning her a slap to her shoulder and an embarrassed you hiding your face in her neck.
She has always been a flirt, a teaser. Always letting you know when you look good, how you make her feel, and more.
It all just adds onto the conclusion, Paige is just the definition of boyfriend.
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Part 2? If you enjoyed this lmk!
I just returned after some time, and thought I would give y'all some long awaited Paige talk.
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agent!harry x agent!fmc
the one where grace and harry are agents on a case, and they have to go undercover to get closer to their suspect. however, tensions come to light when they’re undercover in a sex club, and harry just can’t take it anymore.
little bit of plot, mostly smut slcksxkskc but i LOVE IT ANYWAY. don’t come for me. 😤
wc: ~5k.
tw: MDNI 18+!!!, talks of murder, drinking, sex club, dom!harry, stubborn!oc
part two here // little bunny masterlist
little bunny
The club Grace stood in front of was designed to be discreet to any unassuming passerby. Her coat was pulled tightly around her, hiding the expensive lingerie set she had bought specifically for the occasion. She had never been somewhere like this, and she felt out of place. The building sat flush with the rest on the block, the architecture of history’s past was accentuated with up to date brick and mortar, black metal accents adorning the doors and tinted windows. She was nervous, and walking into a somewhat dangerous situation. She stepped into the darkened club after showing her ID to the security guard in the foyer. She almost refuses to take away her only barrier between her dignity and indecency, reluctantly handing her coat over to the man standing by the coat closet, but she does, acknowledging to herself that she needed to play the part of a cheating wife here to find a man to satisfy her in a way her husband can’t.
She moves on light footsteps further into the building, the stench of sex diluted by cigarette smoke filtered into her lungs. She puts on a face of false confidence, taking all her strength to not hug her arms tightly around her body to hide her figure from the prying eyes in the room. There are men surrounding the bar, some of them sporting tan lines where wedding rings are missing, a detail often overlooked by most. They’re only here to get an easy, quick fuck while their wives are home not suspecting a thing. She wrinkles her nose before correcting her expression and runs a hand through her hair, looking around the area as she inhales and tries to shake the nerves away while pulling on the dreaded collar that her female coworker insisted she should wear to “help get into character”. “It’s just part of the costume,” she reminds herself while making her way to a bar stool.
“Weston, are you alright so far? We’re about to send Styles in.” She hears Aaron, her boss, in her earpiece, static interfering with their signal. She discreetly adjusts the position of it in her ear before answering.
“Yep. Just peachy.” She sarcastically answered under her breath, silently wishing she were anywhere else. She feels exposed and the fake wedding band is uncomfortable and feels tight, like it's holding her finger in a vice. She moves further into the club, making sure the ring is visible to any patrons that may be watching her.
She didn’t want to be here, but realistically, she knew she was the only chance they had to catch the suspect they’d been hunting for just over a week now. They have concluded that the suspect is a recently divorced man who is using surrogates for his murders, dumping them on the streets of Seattle and somehow hasn’t been caught yet. All of the victims were last seen at this club. They haven’t had any reason to arrest him yet, because otherwise he’s a perfect law abiding citizen, and unless they have proof beyond a reasonable doubt, they can’t get a search warrant issued. The only thing they’re going on is that the women he’s kidnapped from this club look eerily similar to his ex wife, and he takes a souvenir from them every time. Their wedding rings.
Grace lifts her gaze from her glass to look around the room, and her eyes briefly catch as the man beside her looks her up and down before turning back to his drink. She feels her cheeks redden slightly, thankful that she was wearing a decent amount of makeup to hide the stain of embarrassment. She would never be seen in something like this, even with her sexual partners. And she never wanted to admit but her sex life was pretty vanilla compared to this. She was dreading that Harry, of all people, was going to be seeing her like this. She only saw one of her coworkers before she had to go inside, and if she had a choice she wouldn’t have seen any of them. There was a knock on her hotel door that interrupted her just as she was putting on her coat to cover up. When she answered the door she expected it to be one of the other women she worked with checking on her, so she didn’t button up. To her dismay it was Sean, their tech guy. She needed to be hooked to an earpiece so she had to suffer through the breath catching in his throat and his endless stutters as he helped her hook with the new technology she was unfamiliar with. And of course, because it was Sean, it was more awkward than it needed to be.
“I’m inside.” She hears Harry’s voice through the speaker hidden in her ear behind her hair as she swallows down the martini she ordered, thankful that they were making an exception to the no alcohol on the job rule. She had a feeling she’d need a little bit of a buzz to deal with Harry tonight, and there was no telling how much time would pass before they got what they needed. Her boss told her to only accept drinks that she had watched be made, as if she didn’t already possess the common knowledge and she wasn’t a federal agent. Her eyes flitted around the room and she caught sight of Harry as he passed the bar and made his way to a location that wasn’t in her line of sight from where she was sitting.
The plan that she and Harry would be the ones undercover wasn’t her own. Harry had suggested it, and because it was his idea, it was the best one and it needed to be executed. Grace would be playing the part of the married woman here to cheat on her husband while he was at home not suspecting a thing. Harry just had to be the one she seduced and left with. They had no way of knowing for sure if the suspect would be there tonight, they were just betting on his timeline being the same as it has been for the past three murders. If he was there, there was no way to know if he would actually set his sights on her. As fucked up as it sounds, Grace hoped he would so she didn’t have to do this again, and she really wanted to be the one to cuff this scumbag. She glanced around the bar, hoping to see his face in the sea of sleazy men. She studies every single patron sitting within her line of sight, and finally, her eyes land on him. Jesse Baker. His dirty blonde hair was greasy on top of his head, and he was sipping on a glass of beer. She stares at him for a moment, willing him to look her way as if he could read her thoughts. After a beat, his eyes meet hers and she feels a shiver up her spine. She doesn’t react, she just makes sure her left hand is in view so he sees the gold ring adorning her finger. She knows he’s seen it when he scowls at her, and if looks could kill she’d already be dead.
“He’s spotted me.” Grace says quietly under her breath, looking away so he doesn’t see her mouth moving. “I’m on the move.”
“Did he see the wedding ring?” Aaron asks. Grace stands taking her glass with her and walking away from the bar.
“Yeah. He saw. Where are you, Styles?”
“Back corner.” His voice is low in her ear and she shivers again, this time for a different reason. There's always been some kind of tension between them, and Grace is no stranger to the way he looks at her when he thinks she doesn’t notice. But he’s never approached her that way, and all they do is bicker back and forth about the correct plan of action on every single case they work together. To him she’s always wrong and he’s always right, and when she is right he doesn’t even acknowledge it, just grumbles something about a ‘lucky guess’ and walks away. She saunters around the bar walking right past their suspect, spotting Harry in the far back of the club. A woman seems to be eyeing him from her table so Grace quickly makes her way to him before he’s stuck in a situation that would be counterintuitive to the reason they were here in the first place.
His eyes meet hers before trailing down to the black lace that covers her from her chest to the tops of her thighs, leaving little to imagination. And he has imagined it. Every time she juts her lip out in concentration, or everytime she gives him her endless attitude he so desperately wanted to put in its place. He shifts in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek before leaning forward and setting his glass down on the small table in front of him. She smiles nervously at him as she moves closer and when she’s within arms reach, he grabs her wrist and pulls her onto his lap.
“H-hey.” Grace stutters and catches herself on the back of the booth, caging his head between her arms. She tilts her head slightly and she wraps one arm around the back of his shoulders after she steadies herself. He lightly drags the tip of his nose up her neck before bumping it against her ear and she swallows a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding.
“Just playing the part, don’t want him to get suspicious.” He mutters and she nods, making herself comfortable, and while he was the one to pull her into his lap, he doesn’t touch her any further than that. Movement catches the corner of her eye and she notices Jesse moving closer to them. She watches him from her peripheral as he takes a seat at the booth behind them, facing them with his legs spread out and resting his drink on his knee while he holds the glass by the rim. She buries her nose in Harry’s hair, breathing in the delicious scent of whatever product he had in it and placing a kiss against his temple, her lips barely brushing over his skin.
“He’s behind us.” She mumbles, moving to straddle over his hips without thinking, just wanting to be able to keep her eye on Jesse. She hears him clear his throat, keeping his hands beside him on the seat and she’s sure they’re about to give away their guise because Harry is way too tense for someone who would’ve been expecting this. She brings her lips to his neck, taking his skin between her teeth before kissing over the spot. She hears him curse under his breath, clenching his hands into fists on the booth. “Do something with your hands, you need to make yourself a little more convincing.” She breathes against his ear and he nods once before placing his hands on her hips and squeezing lightly. Just as she was about to say something else, they’re interrupted by a woman dressed all too similarly to Grace. She’s tall, at least 6’ in her heels and she has long fiery-red hair cascading down her back, her neck adorned with a black leather collar.
“Look at you two getting all cozy.” Her eyes flick between Grace and Harry before narrowing. “There’s private rooms down that hallway over there,” she gestures with her hand, Harry’s gaze follows and he nods at her, flashing a wide smile her way.
“Thank you.” He croons and snakes his hand down from Grace’s hip to the swell of her ass, palming and gripping onto her as the woman’s eyes follow his touch.
“I’m not sure if we’ll need one tonight, I’m trying to teach her how to control and behave herself, she’s a bratty little bunny, aren’t you?” He turns his head and mutters the last few words against the skin between her breasts, his hot breath billowing outwards as he licks a stripe upwards to her collarbone. She whimpers and grinds against him purely out of habit from the pleasure building, and when she does she’s surprised to feel him hard under her. She nods shyly and his finger hooks under her collar, pulling lightly and tilting his head.
“Words, baby. Be polite.” He purrs at her, and it takes all of her mental strength to not widen her eyes at him.
“Y-yes sir.” Is all she can answer, her cheeks reddening slightly and she buries her face in his neck. He brings a hand up, trailing it down her spine with featherlight fingertips. He pushes her to stand, spinning her around before pulling her back down onto his lap, except she’s facing away from him now and he brings his hands over the expanse of her thighs before squeezing there, dimpling the skin. The nameless woman still standing and watching the interaction, clicks her tongue once and her eyes look back to where Jesse still sits. Grace watches her, noticing the way her eyes are narrowing at him and the way she shakes her head, like they’re communicating with each other telepathically. She turns her head back to Harry and Grace, plastering a fake smile on her face.
“Well. If you need anything, just let me know.” She eyes Grace up and down before turning and walking away. Grace waits until she’s out of hearing range before craning her neck to look at Harry over her shoulder. His eyes meet hers briefly before he looks away.
“Little warning would have been nice.” She grumbles as he scoffs.
“Yeah, how exactly did you expect me to do that?” He whispers with annoyance lacing his tone, bringing his mouth to her shoulder blade and kissing lightly. A burst of pleasure runs down her spine and she grinds against him, causing a hiss to fall from between his gritted teeth and he grips her hips tightly, moving her so the pressure isn’t against his cock straining in his pants. She chooses to ignore it for the time being.
“Did you notice her looking at him?” She mutters and he nods, keeping his hands tight on her hips. She doesn’t know how much longer she can do this, and she hates to admit that Harry looks extremely delectable tonight, his hair styled to perfection on top of his head, dressed in black dress pants with a white button up loosely fitting his torso…unbuttoned enough to give her just a hint of the butterfly tattooed on his abs. She catches herself thinking about how it would feel to trail her tongue over it before she forces the image away from her mind and focuses on the task at hand.
-
About a half an hour passes of them bantering back and forth, Jesse watching them the entire time while they exchange just enough physical contact to make it believable. Grace has been drinking and it’s coming to a head, feeling tipsy now and a little more brave. She tangles her hands in Harry’s hair, the fake ring is visible to their suspect as she does so, watching as he narrows his eyes at her and Harry. She feels her arousal pooling on the material of the lingerie as she pushes her center against him and he leans his head back and lets out a soft groan. She watches his eyes flutter closed as he moves her hips over his erection. When he opens them back up to see her smirking down at him, she notices something primal in his expression. He stands abruptly, pushing her off of him in the process and grabbing her hand, leading her down the hallway of private rooms.
“Harry, what are you doing?” She whisper-yells at him, her words running together from slight intoxication but he doesn’t answer. He finds a door cracked open, poking his head inside and making sure it's unoccupied. He pulls her inside, closing the door and locking it behind them before he spins her around and pushes her against it. Grace jumps when a voice speaks in her ear.
“What's going on?” Aaron asks both of them and Harry curses under his breath and drops his head to her shoulder, both of them forgetting about the earpieces up until that moment.
“Give us a minute, new information. Need to come up with a plan.” He lies as he stares directly into Grace’s eyes with dark, blown out pupils, licking his lower lip before pulling it between his teeth
“Styles, we need to know your location in the club at all times.” Aaron scolds him and he shakes his head.
“Do you trust us?” He asks and Aaron responds with a hesitant yes. “Okay. Then give us a minute.” He says before ripping out his earpiece. He does the same with Grace’s, and then his lips crash to hers. She moans into the kiss, opening her mouth and giving him access to her. His tongue darts in and he’s running his hands up to the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling hard enough for her to yelp and he attaches his lips to her pulse point.
“You play dirty.” He mutters against her skin before pulling back and she gives him a devilish grin.
“Didn’t know I needed to play fair.” She remarks, feigning innocence and he pulls her hair again as she hisses through her teeth.
“Think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He seethes and she smiles again. “Think you can just prance over to me in this slutty little outfit and not expect me to want to shove my cock inside you?” He asks, tilting his head slightly and her eyes flutter closed at his words, a switch inside him flipping almost instantaneously. He thinks he has her right where he wants her, but she’s not going to give him what he wants that easily.
While still fisting her hair, he pulls her away from the door and shoves her down onto the sofa in the middle of the room. He flips her over, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her ass up in the air. She squirms underneath him, and he runs his hand softly up the back of her exposed thigh. She shivers, goosebumps forming at his gentle touch. He gives no warning before he pushes the material keeping her wet center covered to the side. He drags a finger through her arousal before shoving it into her and she cries out. He hums with satisfaction, feeling the way she clenches on his fingers at the intrusion.
“You’re dripping. All for me, sweet girl?” He coos at her but she doesn’t answer, instead her jaw falling slack as he pumps his finger in and out of her. His eyes flare with lust, but he stops all together causing her to whimper. “Need you to use your words or I’ll stop.” He demands, the change in his tone giving her whiplash.
“Y-you wish.” She stutters, trying to sound confident, and he knows she’s trying to put up a front, and he doesn’t like her answer. He smacks her ass, hard. He clicks his tongue, gently rubbing the area quickly turning red with his handprint.
“Want to rethink that?” His voice is low. She tries to push her hips back against him, searching for any friction but he doesn’t let her.
“Look at you, such a needy little bunny. You knew what you were doing getting me all riled up.” He croons, bending over her body and nipping at her ear. The pet name he used earlier brings a heat swirling into her belly, a feeling that she craved.
“Wasn’t doing anything. Just playing the part like you told me to.” She lies through her teeth in a breathy tone.
“Hmm. S’that why you’re all wet, then?” He pushes two fingers into her and her eyes flutter closed as she bites her bottom lip. He pumps and curls, stretching her so deliciously it makes her toes curl. He goes deeper, all the way too the knuckle and she feels the tightening of the coil inside her belly. She’s close, so close. He pulls his fingers away from her and her chest heaves at the empty feeling, tearing her away from the edge just as she was about to tumble over. He sits on the couch beside her, pulling her onto his lap and she straddles his hips. He pulls the top of her outfit down, exposing her breasts to him. In the same second, he attaches his mouth to one of her nipples while pinching the other between his thumb and finger. She throws her head back and grinds her hips down over his cock still confined behind the zipper.
“I hate you.” She moans as he lightly bites and sucks on her nipple. She’s breathless as she says it, and he bucks his hips to meet hers.
“You have a funny way of showing it.” He mumbles against her skin, reaching a hand between their bodies and rubbing over her clit. She falls forward, her head falling against his shoulder as he rubs circles at a slow, torturous pace.
“You think you’re so great? You think every woman who looks your way wants you? Like you’re God’s gift to them?” She huffs, not realizing the irony of her words and the position she’s in due to the insatiable want clouding her mind.
“And yet here you are.” He mutters, the corner of his mouth pulling into a half smile and she rolls her eyes. He grabs her face, forcing her to look at him. His pupils are blown out and he tilts his head, studying her like he’s a predator hunting his prey, knowing she’s about to say something smart again and nipping it in the bud before it has the chance to escape her lips.
“Attitude.” He says pointedly, squeezing her cheeks and she can’t help the whine that builds in her throat and betrays her. “Be a good little bunny or I won’t let you cum.” He threatens and she swallows her words down without so much as a sigh.
Her hands fall from his chest and to his pants, fumbling with the button and unzipping them. He lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough and his cock springs free from where it was confined behind his zipper. Her eyes widen and her mouth waters, wanting nothing more than to drop to her knees and take him down her throat at the sight of him. He watches her for a beat before pulling her face back to him and kissing her, shoving his tongue into her mouth aggressively.
In an instant, he’s gripping the backs of her thighs and lifting her as he stands from the sofa without detaching his mouth from hers. Her hands grip his hair, pulling at the root and he groans into the kiss, her back meeting the cool surface of the wall across the room. She feels the head of his cock at her entrance, and she wiggles her hips against him in an attempt to push him into her, begging for more contact. He holds her steady, and she’s unsuccessful in her efforts as she whimpers into his mouth. He pulls away far enough to meet her eyes, her chest heaving and her eyes pleading for him.
“Beg me for it.” He demands, breathless. The look in her eyes shifts, and she narrows them at him.
“Fuck you.” She seethes, her usual personality fighting to stay dominant over the one she wants to slip into. He holds her up with one hand, bringing the other up to grab the collar still strapped around her throat. He pulls, bringing her forehead to his, the tips of their noses touching and she feels her air supply dwindling.
“Beg. Or I’ll leave you in here, your pretty little pussy all weepy and empty.” He grits through his teeth and she can’t deny she wants him like this always. He lets go and she sucks in a breath that she desperately needed. She’s stunned for a moment, this side of him still new to her. She’s itching to provoke him further, just to see how far he’ll go. But she also just really wants him to fuck her,
“Please.” She whispers and he laughs, shaking his head slightly
“You can do better than that, bunny.” His voice is low and gravely, and she can tell he’s holding himself back. She sighs, throwing her head back against the wall. He waits, and when she lifts her head to look at him again, she gives him a look that reads mischief.
“Please, oh please, give me your cock, sir, I need it, need it so bad. Plea—” Her fake, whiny voice is cut off by him slamming his cock into her and she feels the breath whoosh from her lungs. Tears prick the corner of her eyes at the sting of him stretching her, and it’s all she knows. All she feels. Her head falls forward against his shoulder and she cries out from pleasure sparking down her spine.
“God, you look so much better when you just shut up.” He grits with annoyance, breath heavy in his lungs as she squeezes him perfectly. He tosses his head back as he sets a slow, torturous pace. Her hands find his hair again, holding the back of his head and fisting his hair for something to grip as he pulls out to the tip before driving back into her. She’s a mess of moans and whines and she lifts her head from his shoulder and arches her back against the wall. His mouth finds her throat, lapping and sucking on her skin. She knows she won’t last, and he can sense it too, the way she’s clenching him and bucking into him. He brings one hand up between her thighs, pressing lightly on her clit with his thumb, rubbing small circles with light pressure and his name falls from her lips in breathy moans.
“That’s it…cum for me. Know you want to.” He encourages her, and the sparks dancing down her spine travel right to her center and turn to flames of pleasure…desire. He presses her clit once, and that’s it, all she needs. She comes completely undone, tipping over the edge and dropping her head to his shoulder once more, her pussy squeezing him and willing him to come inside her. He groans, a single bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he slams into her.
“Feel so fucking good cumming all over my cock, bunny. So good. Like you were made for me.” He’s breathless, his hips meeting hers one final time before he’s spilling into her, bringing his lips to hers in a sloppy kiss as he rides through it, moaning into her mouth, filling her until he slides out and he drips down her thighs.
Gently, he lowers her until her feet meet the floor. She stumbles, humming as he brings his hands to her face and wipes the mascara running down her cheeks with the back of his fingers. His eyebrows pull together as her eyes meet his. He makes sure she’s steady, pulling her lingerie back into place and tucking himself back into his pants and zipping them before walking away and finding their earpieces that he threw across the room.
“Now, you’re gonna leave this room with my cum dripping from that pretty little pussy. Let it run down your thighs. Gonna be a good little bunny and let them all see who you belong to, right?” Her head is fuzzy, and she nods without thinking. She can’t think straight, forgetting for a moment why they were even here in the first place. He checks his watch, and all of twenty minutes have passed feeling like hours. He situates the technology in her ear, then moves to his, clearing his throat before he speaks.
“Aaron. We have reason to believe he’s working with a partner. There’s a woman in here that he’s been communicating with, and I think she plays a part in luring the women to him.” He speaks clearly, as if he didn’t just have his cock buried inside Grace, wishing he had a little more time, and he realized he was going to be insatiable for her, already thinking about when he could have her next.
“We didn’t profile a partner?” Aaron sounds confused, and Harry’s eyes travel to Grace still leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath without making it obvious to anyone listening.
“Grace and I went to a private room, Baker is going to assume he knows what we did in this room. He’s going to make a move, or his partner will. Need another body inside. Need more eyes on him.” Harry says, calm and collected. “It’s going to have to be a man, because I’m sure there’s no other women on our team dressed like Grace.” He mutters.
“Weston, are you there?” Aaron asks and his voice speaking directly to her snaps her back to reality quickly.
“Uh, yeah. Here. I’m here.” She makes her presence known.
“Alright. I’m coming in.” He says, and they both look at each other once before nodding. Grace feels the ache in her thighs as she walks towards the door, Harry behind her. He leans into her just as her hand reaches for the handle.
“Still hate me?” He whispers in her ear
“Always.” She mutters.
“Good. It’d be boring if you didn’t.” He smirks, his hand on her back as they exit the room. She knew she was ruined, already wanting more of him, more time with him.
But it’ll have to wait.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry#styles#harry styles x fmc#fic#harry fic#harry styles smut#harry styles au#agent!harry#agent!fmc#dom!harry#stubborn!fmc#smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles x oc#harry styles fic
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➠ word count: 21.3k
➠ warnings: cursing, once again everything i know about hockey is from the internet and only for this fic i’m sorry, a couple different blood/injury mentions, needle/injection mention and descriptions, mentions of other medical testing/settings, just chronically ill girlie things 🤪
➠ genre: fluff, sooo much fluff they’re sooo in love tbh, a bit of hurt/comfort sprinkled in, established relationship, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), christmas-y for a couple scenes in the middle, sequel to buzzer beater
➠ extra info: this is the sequel to buzzer beater, which you should definitely read before this one so you know what’s going on!
the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, 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: i’m sooo down astronomically bad for hockey player sungchan and i hope you all are too bc take a look at that word count lol. anyway have fun!!
➠ series masterlist | spotify playlist
You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.
i. i will give you my palm to help you walk through the hurtful, want to give you that calm that you have so long searched for
[sicheng: come get your mans]
The random text from Sicheng made you shoot up on your couch. Hockey practice was happening right now, you were expecting Sungchan to come over to your place after—and also to not be getting texts from anybody on the team at the moment.
[you: hello? what?]
[sicheng: no seriously come pick him up he took a puck to the face]
You rushed through the automatic doors into the rink, looking around for any sign of paramedics or— The rest of the team was still practicing, and there was no obvious bright red blood on the ice, that was a good sign, at least. Nobody on the ice seemed to have even noticed your entrance. Okay, so maybe not a huge emergency then.
Taking a couple steps down the hallway that led into the locker room, you called out, “Sungchan? Sicheng?”
“Yeah! In here!” Sicheng replied. “You can come in!”
Throwing the door open, you immediately saw the goalie standing over Sungchan, who was sat on one of the benches, holding a rag up to his face. The white towel was blotted with crimson blood, and you gasped.
“Sungchan!” You darted towards them.
Sungchan lowered his hand, and you could finally see some of the damage. The blood was streaming down from a gash on the right side of his forehead, by his hairline.
No black eyes, though.
He gave you a wincing smile, and you thankfully saw all of his teeth still there. “Y/N, hey...”
You looked down at him incredulously, “How did you even—”
“I’m okay, baby,” he reassured you, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze your forearm.
“That’s not what I said. Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a helmet and visor out there? How did you get a puck to your bare forehead?”
“I’ll leave him to you,” Sicheng declared, backing away from you two. “I’ve got to get back to practice.”
“I wasn’t on the ice,” Sungchan explained. “I was talking to Sicheng by the gate. Rogue puck, he ducked in time, I didn’t.”
You knew whereabouts on the rink he was talking about. The school’s rink was also used for ice skating for some extra money, and had a separate entrance onto the ice for those patrons aside from the entrance from the players’ benches. Since he wasn’t anywhere on the ice, Sungchan must’ve felt comfortable taking his helmet off.
“And you didn’t have your helmet on.”
“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Open gate, no helmet, rogue puck to the face,” you summarized, taking the towel from his hand to wipe up a drop of blood that had been inching down his temple while you two spoke. It at least wasn’t bleeding as profusely as before, the blood starting to coagulate.
“Really, isn’t it Sicheng’s fault? For ducking? He had a helmet on, he would’ve been fine if it hit him.”
“Mm, of course. Blame the guy with better reflexes than you.” You tossed the rag into the team laundry basket in the corner. “Alright, get changed, I’m taking you home.”
“Okay,” he agreed with a great sigh, bending over to untie his skates, then immediately sat back up. “Woah…”
As Sungchan blinked quickly to get reoriented, you dropped to one knee in front of him to start undoing his laces. “Lightheaded?”
“A bit…”
“I don’t know if I should be hoping for blood loss or concussion.”
After you’d gotten his skates off him, he was able to change out of his uniform and into casual clothes on his own. Slinging his practice bag over your shoulder, you handed his gear bag to him, knowing that you wouldn’t quite be able to manage that yourself. Without even waiting for him, you grabbed his arm to wrap it around your shoulders and snaked yours around his waist, the memory of him getting lightheaded replaying in your mind.
As the two of you left the cold rink into the equally cold December air, you kept an eye on Sungchan for any signs of him needing medical attention beyond your capabilities. Aside from the injury itself, he seemed fine, just with a slightly jutted-out bottom lip as he kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of his feet.
“What’s the pouty face for?” You asked.
“I’m not pouting.” Sungchan resisted.
“Yes you are. You look like a 186-centimeter baby. What’s wrong? Other than your acute case of puck face.”
The pout become even more prominent as he mumbled, “It’s like you’re not even worried about me...”
“Ah, of course I’m worried about my Sungchannie,” you promised, pulling him even closer with the arm you had around his waist. You moved it up to rub his back as you leaned your head against him affectionately. “I’m just so used to seeing guys get their teeth knocked out and their noses broken at your games that when Sicheng said you got a puck to the face, that’s what I was expecting to see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t care. I was just relieved, is all.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded firmly. “Besides, I’m clearly worried enough to take you home and patch you up myself.”
“You are?” He asked hopefully.
“Oh yeah, I’ve got this first aid kit that’s about as big as you are. You’re going to be good as new, baby boy.”
His face finally cracked into a smile. “Why do you have a first aid kit that big?”
“It was the only one at the store that came with alcohol wipes. I need them for my monthly injection, to disinfect the injection site.”
“Right.” He squeezed your upper arm. “Of course, the girl that has to have an entire pharmacy in her kitchen.”
You nudged him with your shoulder teasingly, “And my Sungchannie, who has to take hockey pucks to the face.”
Once the two of you had arrived at your apartment, you immediately pointed to your couch. “Sit.”
Sungchan obeyed easily, plopping down without another word. He took off a couple layers now that you weren’t in the biting winter cold, setting them on the cushion beside him as you bustled over to your kitchen.
“My head hurts,” he announced, sounding downright pitiful.
“Really? Your head hurts?” You pouted at him, getting on your tiptoes to pull down your massive first aid kit from your cabinet.
“Uh-huh.”
“Aw, my poor Sungchannie,” you cooed, setting the huge first aid kit down on the coffee table and popping it open.
The apartment heating had kicked on, so you finally took off your heavy parka and overcoat as well, leaving you just in the base lounge clothes you’d been in before you’d hurried to get dressed with the urgent texts from Sicheng.
First, you tipped a couple of over-the-counter painkillers into his waiting hand, and he knocked them back with a sip from his water bottle.
Grabbing a couple alcohol swabs and boxes of bandages, you asked, “Okay, Hello Kitty, spaceships, or Pokémon?”
“Mm… What kind of Pokémon?”
“First gen. I think it’s mostly Gengars and Psyducks left in there.”
“A Gengar please,” he requested sweetly.
You fished a bandage out, pre-ripping the end of the packaging before setting it on the arm of the couch. Standing in between Sungchan’s legs as he was reclined back on your couch, you leaned over him, very gingerly brushing his hair back from his forehead so you could see the injury better. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped between the rink and your place, all clotted blood and the start of scabs. Less thankfully for him, you were about to sanitize all of that. Gently turning his head so you could get better light, you tore open the first alcohol wipe and lightly touched it to the very edge of where you thought the wound started. Sungchan’s forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t make a sound. You continued at your task for another second before he finally spoke up.
“Y/N.”
“Sorry, I know it stings, but I’m almost done.” You promised. “I’d go faster but the lighting isn’t great in here, and some of it goes into your hair.”
“Don’t you think you’d be able to see better…” A pair of hands grabbed your hips, encouraging you closer, closer, down, down, until you were straddling Sungchan's lap, a knee on either side of him. “Like this?”
You were about to make a retort, except this tragically did get your own head out of the way enough to stop casting a shadow where you needed. So instead, you looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.
“How injured are you, really?” You questioned, pink-tinged alcohol wipe still in hand.
“So injured,” he fake-whined, settling his hands on your thighs.
“I’m sure.” But you made no move to leave, instead leaning in and getting back to work cleaning up the area.
Sungchan provided no more obvious distraction to you as you did so, seeming content to just smooth his thumbs over your clothed thighs and trace shapes there with his fingers. When you were finally able to see where the skin was split, you frowned, using your fingers to part his hair and inspect how far back it went.
“How long do I have, Doc?” He joked.
“You’ll live, but the bandages aren’t going to help the part that’s in your hair,” you forewarned. “That means be gentle when shampooing while its healing.”
“Sounds complicated. What if I mess it up? I think you should do it for me,” he suggested with a smirk, fingertips playing with the hem of your sweatshirt— well, really it was his sweatshirt, but he’d forfeited it to you some time ago.
“Is there something about getting injured that just turns you into a horndog?” You scoffed. For emphasis, you pinched the sliver of skin on his stomach that was exposed where his own t-shirt had ridden up above the hem of his pants and boxers.
He sat up then, forcing you to lean back to avoid smacking faces, but he just chased you forward until you were nearly nose-to-nose.
“No, there’s something about you being so worried and taking such good care of me that makes me want to show you how much I adore… you… back...” He punctuated the last three words with kisses that went up your neck to your jaw.
You looked up at the ceiling, as if pretending to consider this reason. But the happy smile that was working its way across your lips clearly gave away the fact that your mind was already made up. You snaked a hand between the two of you to push him back against the couch by the chest and hold him there.
“Alright, but at least let me put this Gengar bandage on you first, hm?”
ii. you are so beautifully, so brutally out of comprehension, and how lonely i was in the before and after
With a sigh, you rolled over in bed and checked the time. One hour until Sungchan was supposed to pick you up. It felt like somebody was slowly squeezing your head in some kind of medieval torture machine. There was no way this migraine was going away before your date. When it’d come on within thirty minutes of you waking up, you were hopeful that it’d pass and you could still make it, but clearly you had no such luck.
You sullenly drafted your text to him.
[you: hey, channie, im really sorry about this. i know we were supposed to go skating this afternoon but i’ve got a migraine, so i have to cancel]
Of all the dates that you had to flake out on. Sungchan had been really excited to take you to the rink during one of their open skate times, to share something he loved with you, and you were looking forward to it too. While you weren’t the best at ice skating, you were going to have the captain of the hockey team with you, so you hadn’t been too terribly concerned about your safety. The way his eyes had lit up when you said yes in the first place. God... you felt awful. In the back of your mind, you knew that you were just going to reschedule but still, it just made your head hurt worse to think about.
Ten minutes later, and he had texted back.
[channie: do you want some company?]
[you: ah, you really don’t have to. i’m sure you’ve got other things you need to do]
[channie: 1. i already cleared out my day for you 2. i want to be there with you and 3. i’m already outside]
You smiled at the harsh, painful light of your phone screen, reading the third bulletpoint over again as you typed your response.
[you: spare key under the fucked up looking gnome]
The door to your bedroom was slowly opened just a few moments later, and you wordlessly rolled over in bed to make room for Sungchan to slip under your blankets with you. You rolled back over practically on top of him and buried your face in his chest, happy to have something else to block out the light aside from your blackout curtains. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly.
“Hey...” You mumbled a greeting.
“Hey,” he murmured. “How bad is it?”
“Not as bad as the one from Halloween,” you reassured him, throwing an arm around his waist. “No lobotomizing or anything. Just... hurts.”
“That’s... good, I guess.”
“You put my key back under the gnome? Or did you bring it in?”
“Put it back. Also why do you have that fucked up looking gnome?”
“I saw him on clearance and he was just so horrible, I had to have him. So now I hide my spare key under him.”
You didn’t know if Sungchan had found your answer satisfactory, or just decided to leave the topic be for your migraine’s sake, but he said nothing more. His arms shifted a bit tighter around you, and you could sense his sour mood without even needing to see his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“What?”
“My Sungchannie…” You said in a hushed, teasing sing-song tone. “You make a terrible cuddle buddy when you’re this tense.” You poked his stomach for emphasis, which was solid as a brick wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, sorry.” He readjusted again, and you did feel his muscles relax a little under you. “You’ve got a migraine, you shouldn’t be asking me what’s wrong.”
“Well, we already know what’s wrong with me. So, what’s wrong with you?”
He let out a deep sigh. “It’s weird. When one of the guys gets hurt on the ice, I can see where they’re hurt and either slap a bandage on them myself or take them to someone who can. But when you’re hurting, my girl... I can’t do any of those things. I hate it.”
“Just you being here makes me feel better, Channie.” You squinted one eye open so you could reach a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. “I promise.”
“If you say so.”
Despite his melancholy words, he turned his head quickly to give a fleeting smooch to the tip of your thumb before you dropped it back down to lay the hand flat on his chest.
“And... ‘your girl?’” You asked slyly, wishing that there wasn’t a thick hoodie between his bare chest and your hand in that moment, as you were sure you would’ve been able to feel his heartbeat jump under your fingertips.
His eyes widened minutely as his head tilted in confusion. “Are-Are you not?”
“No, I am. Definitely.” You contentedly squished your cheek against his front.
“And I’m your guy. Right?”
“As if that could even be a question,” you giggled, the words punctuated by a yawn. “Yes.”
“Good,” he breathed out in relief, and you finally felt him truly relax underneath you. “Uhm, I’m keeping you up, sorry. You should go to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “My sleepy girl.”
“Mm, okay. Goodnight,” you mumbled, rolling over in his arms and letting your thoughts fully drift away.
“Love you...”
Sungchan continued staring down at you as your breathing evened out. The words seemed to have come out of your mouth as naturally as your breaths, and he fought back the urge to shake you awake again so he could say them back to you. Instead, he brushed your hair away from your face, planting a couple gentle kisses on your temple before scooting into his spot as big spoon for today and settling in for the duration of your sleep.
“I love you too,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, letting his own eyes close as he replayed the memory of you saying it first.
You woke up not even knowing your own name.
After taking a few seconds to properly come to and get reoriented from your migraine nap, you turned to your other side, immediately greeted by Jung Sungchan with such a tender look on his face that you had the breath knocked out of you.
Finally, you coughed out, “Hi...”
“Hey,” he smiled softly. “Sleep good?”
“Mhm... What time is it? How long did I sleep?”
“A few hours, it’s almost eight.”
“Cool, there goes my non-existent sleep schedule.”
He laughed quietly. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I mean, blegh, but no migraine. Just... eugh.”
“The way you classify feeling good and bad fascinates me,” he commented.
You shuffled onto your back, staring up at your ceiling. “It’s all relative. One of my good days looks different from another chronically ill person’s good days. Same with my bad days. And no two abled people’s good and bad days look the same either. I mean, before I had migraines, I wasn’t out there being a hockey superstar like you. So yeah, right now I feel blegh and eugh, but in comparison to before my nap, that’s pretty good.”
“Huh.” Sungchan flopped onto his back too. “I mean, I guess I kind of knew that but... never really thought it through like that.”
“It’s a working theory,” you shrugged. “I’ve only been like this for... a little less than four years? And I’ll have these for, you know, the rest of my life. So, I’ll continue to refine it as time goes on.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“What?”
“You’re really going to have migraines for the rest of your life?”
“Yeah. Unless some miracle cure is discovered in my lifetime. It’s a lifelong condition.”
“That’s… damn.”
You let out a chuckle. “It took a while for it to sink in for me, too. When my neurologist mentioned it at my first appointment, it was like, whatever, but now four years later… yeah, it’s really starting to sink in that this is my life.”
“Woah…”
“Anyway, I’m sorry again about ice skating. I know you were really excited for it.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll go another day,” he promised. “Thank you for letting me be here, with you.”
You pushed yourself up to sit cross-legged, and put your hand over his that he’d been resting on his chest. “Thank you for coming, Sungchan.”
His face scrunched up. “What’s with calling me that? Am I in trouble?”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys…”
“One of what guys?”
“As soon as they get a nickname or a term of endearment they won’t answer to their government name anymore.”
“It’s not that, it’s just… it feels like I’m in trouble. Like, am I not your Sungchannie anymore? Am I not baby or baby boy to you anymore? I’m no longer Channie?”
“You’re not in trouble,” you told him, slotting your fingers with his. “But… as a literary student, I understand the importance of diction and the symbolism of names.”
“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded firmly.
You snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for being here with me, my Sungchannie.”
He caught the back of your head with his other hand before you could sit up all the way, guiding your lips down to his. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, which neither of you moved to deepen nor rush. When his hand fell from your hair, you straightened back up, smiling down at him fondly.
“Well, are you ready for dinner?” You asked. “I was thinking frozen pizza and very quiet movies. Unless you can’t stay the night.”
“No, I can stay.” He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. “That sounds great. Whatever you want.”
“Perfect.”
You climbed out of bed, taking a second to get to your feet before heading for your bedroom door. Sungchan was still under the covers, though, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You stopped at the threshold of the door, turning around to look at him.
“Channie?”
“Hm?”
“By the way…” You paused, letting silence descend for a couple seconds as he patiently waited for you to finish. “I love you.”
You immediately darted away towards your kitchen, laughing as you heard him scrambling to get out of bed and chase after you.
“Hey, come back!” He cried out, and you swore you heard the thud of an elbow or a knee bumping into a piece of furniture or a doorframe. “I need to say it back to you! Baby!”
You couldn’t run very far, sliding across your kitchen tile on your socks before skidding to a stop in front of your fridge. Sungchan came barreling around the corner right after you, wild-eyed, clutching his elbow and out of breath.
“No fair…” he whined. “You got a head start and I hit my funny bone on your door.”
“Your legs are like twice as long as mine!” You pointed out. “I think that’s just equity.”
“And my funny bone?”
“I’m sorry about your funny bone, baby boy. Want me to kiss it better?”
“In a second.”
“Alright,” you giggled, waiting patiently for him to finish his point.
“You know what’s not equitable?” He asked with his hands on his hips, slowly advancing towards you.
“Aside from you busting your funny bone on my door?”
He’d gotten you in arm’s reach, seizing you by the waist to pull you into his chest again. “You saying it to me twice now without giving me an opportunity to say it back.”
You laughed and wriggled around in his grasp as he held steadfast to you.
“So not fair!” Sungchan complained teasingly, showering your forehead, nose, and cheeks in kisses.
You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not an athlete, you don’t play fair,” he chastised you. “Being so unbelievably cute while I’m trying to prove a point here.”
With another loud smooch to the top of your head, Sungchan let you go, removing you from him and holding you at arm’s length by the shoulders. You raised your eyebrows as you eyed the several kitchen tiles of space between the two of you.
“Very romantic, Channie.”
“Ahh, well I can’t think when you’re so close to me!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. However you need to.”
“No, you’re right, come back here.” He pulled you flush to his front again, cupping your cheeks to tilt your face up to look at him.
You looped your arms around his waist, offering him a sweet smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he echoed, stroking his thumbs over your cheekbones. Sungchan looked over your features fondly, his lips twitching as he was clearly trying and failing to suppress a giddy grin. “I love you. I love you. And, I love you.”
You chuckled at him having to say it the third time, as your whole body buzzed with joy. Yeah, your insides were never going to un-mush at this rate. They’d been long gone since your first date.
“I love you too, my Sungchannie.” You gave him a gentle kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.
iii. i hear the secret whisperings of the world in the curves of all your bursts of laughter
Sitting in a stadium seat at the ice rink one afternoon, you watched the team’s practice as you waited for your boyfriend. Well, half-watching the practice. Now that the semester was over, you wanted to catch up on your personal reading list with the free time.
A sudden bang on the barrier in front of you made you startle and look up from your book. It surprisingly wasn’t Sungchan, but two other players—23 and 24.
You slowly waved at Jeno and Yangyang before turning your eyes back down to your reading. That just started up more fervent banging on the plastic and indistinct shouting from them.
“Oh my God! What?” You yelled back, tucking your bookmark into the pages.
Their words were indistinguishable though, because of the barrier, distance, and the fact that they were talking over each other.
“Hold on!” You huffed. Standing up and picking your way down through the rows until you were directly in front of them, you asked, “Okay, what? One at a time.”
“Are you coming to movie night tonight—” Jeno started.
“—at the Puck Pad?” Yangyang finished.
Your brow furrowed as you stared at their shining eyes as if they had just said a normal thing to you. “I’m sorry, the what?”
“Movie night?” Jeno repeated.
“You seriously think that’s what I’m confused about? I know what a fucking movie night is, Jeno,” you rolled your eyes. “What the hell is the ‘Puck Pad?’”
The two of them exchanged a look before Yangyang spoke up, “Where your boyfriend lives? The house that me, Sungchan, Ten, and Sicheng all rent.”
“The team is having a movie night there tonight!” Jeno reiterated. “We were just wondering if you were coming too.”
You blinked at them. “I’ve never heard Sungchan, Sicheng, nor Ten call the house that. Are you sure it’s not just you, Yangyang?”
Yangyang ignored your question with one of his own, “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, Sungchan mentioned some movies at his place tonight. I’ll be there.”
“Awesome!” They said in unison.
“So… the Puck Pad?” You asked abruptly as Sungchan came out of the locker room, your arms crossed and head tilted.
His elated smile dropped off his face as a bewildered look of confusion took over, and his arms fell down to his sides from where he’d been holding them out for a hug. “What…? Who told you about that?”
“So you do call your house that?”
“Look, we joked about that like once or twice when we moved in last year. It’s not like there’s a sign up or anything.”
“And you didn’t want to tell me about this because…?”
“It’s lame and makes us sound like a bunch of losers.”
“But you are.”
“Unh!” He held a fist over his chest as if he were grabbing some invisible weapon that he’d just been stabbed with. Clutching onto your shoulder with his other hand, he slowly started leaning more and more of his weight onto you as he made more fake noises of pain. “Oof! Oh God… Oh, that hurt, Y/N… My own girl… Ugh… Agh…”
Giggling, you had to change your stance to keep the both of you up as he was fully slumped against you. You let out a grunt of exertion as you readjusted to push on his chest and prop him back up into a somewhat standing position.
“Channie, get up!” You complained as he just flopped back over on you, bringing another bout of laughter from you as you struggled to keep the both of you up. “Channie! Seriously, you’re such a baby! Just a big loser baby!”
“Yeah, but I’m your big loser baby, right?” He teased, supporting just enough of his weight to be able to look you in the face as he pouted at you pointedly.
You pinched his bottom lip just a bit meanly. “Yeah, and you’d better not forget it. Now can we go? You do know that the team has been staring like the whole time waiting for us, right?”
The guys were all crowded up by the automatic doors in a huddle, in various stages of pretending not to watch and very obviously looking and snickering among themselves. Donghyuck and Yangyang were in the latter, the two underclassmen feeling rather brave tonight as Yangyang yelled out first.
“Come on, loser baby! We’re waiting!”
“Yang, it was big loser baby, actually,” Donghyuck corrected him facetiously.
“Right, of course,” Yangyang nodded seriously. “Come on, you big, stinking, whining loser baby!”
Sungchan straightened up, all humor drained from his features as he snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Are you ready to go, Channie?” Jeno joined in.
“Don’t fucking call me that!” The captain shot back, grabbing your hand as he started leading the way over.
“Seriously, guys,” you spoke up once you had joined the pack of hockey players heading out of the rink. “Don’t call him Channie, please.”
Sungchan’s house—The Puck Pad—was a close enough walk that on nights like this, where the team would hold movie nights or other team events after hockey practice, the players would all leave their cars at the house beforehand and walk over. So you all had a roughly twenty-minute walk back there now, a gaggle of hockey players, their practice bags, a couple gear bags, and you.
“Why not?” Donghyuck fake-whined.
“Well for one, he asked you not to. That should be enough,” you retorted. “And two, that’s my nickname for him. Come up with your own instead of stealing mine.”
“Since you asked so nicely, okay.”
“Thanks, Hyuck.”
A phone alarm suddenly went off just a moment later, and you calmly turned it off from your watch before rummaging through the tote bag on your shoulder.
“Evening?” Sungchan asked knowingly, watching as you tipped out one pill after another into your palm, then grabbed your water bottle.
“Mhm.” You confirmed before knocking them back in several rounds. The two of you were thankfully towards the back of the group, so they didn’t notice when you had to stop and start every time you had difficulty swallowing your sips of water.
When you closed up your tote bag, took his hand in yours, and continued down the sidewalk at a brisk pace intent on catching up with the others, a frown cut across Sungchan’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to take those with food?”
“Forgot to restock the go bag with snacks yesterday. I’ll live taking one dose without it,” you shrugged. “Besides, we’re going to be at your place soon anyway, I’ll eat there.”
Sungchan reached into his practice bag, fishing out a slightly misshapen protein bar, “Here. Sorry, it got a little crushed.”
“Oh, you don’t—”
He tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then pushed it into your hand that wasn’t holding his. “Y/N, eat it.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
At The Puck Pad—which you were learning, it turns out, the entire team calls the house when nobody else is around—you ended up being pretty glad for the protein bar Sungchan had given you on your way over. You only ate half of it before you got to the house, but the guys were so disorganized that it wasn’t until almost two hours after you’d arrived that everybody was finally settled in the living room with popcorn, candy, pizza, beer (soda and water for you), and a movie playing on the TV.
You and Sungchan had a plush, reclining armchair to yourselves, tucked cozily under a blanket. Sungchan had an arm around your waist holding you close to him as the other moved between his plate that was balanced on the armrest with a stack of pizza slices, and the small end table where your drinks sat. You were happily curled up into his side, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and his chest, and your legs in his lap as you propped your own plate up on your knees to eat from.
The guys had picked a horror movie first—one without jumpscares, as both you and Mark hated them. Blood, gore, body horror, or psychological thriller didn’t faze you, but under no circumstances could you handle jumpscares. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t care for horror movies in general and would only tolerate them if everybody else wanted to watch it. His hard line was jumpscares, though, which you two could agree on. So everybody had checked over multiple websites to be sure that this specific movie definitely didn’t have any jumpscares. Just lots of blood, as you were now finding out.
“Gross, dude…” Mark muttered under his breath from the couch. When you looked over at him, you could see his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the screen with a curled lip of disgust.
“Ugh, he had all those frogs inside him?” Yangyang pretended to gag, not looking away from the screen for a second.
“Good thing Hendery already went home for the holidays, huh?” Ten laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth from where his head was pillowed in Sicheng’s lap.
Chenle, who had also been invited, snorted with amusement. “Hendery would be climbing the fuckin’ walls right now.”
“I’m with Mark, this is fucking nasty.” You shook your head, turning to bury your face in Sungchan’s chest. “Let me know when there’s no more frogs doing gross stuff to people’s internal organs.”
“You can pick next, baby. Promise.” Sungchan wrapped two arms around you. He leaned in even closer to you to whisper, “Please pick something not scary.”
Once the horror movie was over, you proudly picked a Christmas rom-com, making sure to get one that had the perfect balance of a low critics’ score and high audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, was at least as old as you, had a low budget, and starred two famous actors that hadn’t gotten their big break as of filming.
When Jeno tried to grumble, you merely stuck your tongue out at him. “‘Tis the fucking season, Jeno!”
“Oh, fuck yeah! Christmas movie!” Yangyang cheered through a mouthful of pizza, walking back into the living room with a newly filled plate of slices. “Jeno, did we already have this one on our list?”
“List?” You asked with facetious innocence.
“Jeno and I marathon shitty Hallmark Christmas movies every year when we go to his parents’ place on break,” the junior explained, plopping down into his spot next to his friend. “He keeps the list in the notes on his phone, so I wanted to make sure he checked it off if we had it on there.”
While your immediate instinct had been to tease Jeno like the other guys were doing, something Yangyang said caught your attention instead.
“Wait, Yangyang, you go to Jeno’s parents’ place on break? You don’t go home?”
“My parents don’t live here. I’m originally from here, but we moved abroad when I was a kid. They still live there. The holiday break we get for hockey is too short to make it all the way out there.” He shrugged, taking another huge bite of pizza. “Jeno’s family is super cool. His mom about lost it when she heard that I’d be staying at school for the holidays my freshman year, insisted Jeno bring me home. So I go every year now.”
“And you two binge Hallmark movies together,” Chenle cooed, pinching their cheeks in unison. “The bestest of fwiends.”
Jeno shook his head and rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the bright grin on his face when Yangyang talked about staying with his family, or when he snuck his phone out to open the notes app and covertly check something off on a list that you couldn’t quite read from the other side of the room.
The movie ended up being actually a really good laugh. Both intentionally and unintentionally. Some of the jokes still held up after all these years, which surprised you, and also, the movie was just funny bad sometimes, which was even better. You found your cheeks hurting from how much you were laughing by the end of it, and surrounded by similar smiles on your friends’ faces. Which made it all the more enjoyable. The ending was the perfect amount of cheesy, sweet, funny, and satisfying, and felt like the perfect way to finish off your own night.
As the credits started rolling, still with a smile lingering on your lips, you turned to Sungchan, only to find him already gazing fondly at you.
“Oh. Hi…” You squeaked softly, completely caught off guard.
“Hi, baby,” he murmured back. “Good pick, by the way.”
“Not too scary, I hope.”
“Well, I had my girl there to protect me from that terrifying small-town baker and the down on his luck yet equally terrifying single dad, you know.”
The rest of the guys were having a debate about the next movie to watch—Pride and Prejudice (2005), Donghyuck’s idea vs. The Amazing Spider-Man (yes, Andrew Garfield), Mark’s idea. A debate that was expeditiously devolving into a very loud argument, so you weren’t particularly worried about them hearing the quiet, playful conversation that you and your boyfriend were having in the couple of inches of space between your heads.
“Always happy to protect my guy from the horrors of cheesy rom-coms,” you quipped back. “Anyway, I think I’m about done. Unless you want to watch whatever they end up picking?”
Sungchan shook his head minutely. “Apparently Hyuck’s been watching that movie like every day since this girl in his Brit Lit class rejected him like two weeks ago—”
“You need a better fucking coping mechanism than Keira Knightly, dude!” Mark’s exasperated voice rang through the living room.
“Would you rather I take up heroin, then?” Donghyuck screeched back.
“No! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The frat president groaned. “I meant like Tinder or something!”
“Oh, really great advice from my Big here! I should go get myself an STD or 7 because he doesn’t want to watch one movie with me!”
“It’s not one movie, this is the fifteenth time this month, Hyuck! And you know we have condoms in the house, man! Use them!”
“And that’s our cue,” Sungchan declared only to you, nudging you towards the front of the armchair.
You scooted off his lap, getting to your feet and stretching as your boyfriend spoke over the still-bickering Nu Chi brothers. “Alright guys, we’re done for the night. See you.”
A couple of the spectators gave you two ‘goodnight’s, but everyone else was still locked into Mark and Donghyuck squabbling match as the Little was now fake-sobbing into Sicheng’s arms about how his Big couldn’t care less about him and his safety and maybe he should go get every single sexually transmitted disease if it’ll make Mark’s life easier. Mark turned towards the closest wall and started banging his forehead against it as you and Sungchan headed up the stairs.
The Puck Pad was three floors and an attic. All of the shared family spaces were on the first floor: the kitchen, living room, dining room, laundry room, and a half bathroom; the second floor had two bedrooms and one bathroom, currently inhabited by Ten and Sicheng; and the third floor had two* more bedrooms and one and a half more bathrooms, occupied by Yangyang and Sungchan. Being the captain, when divvying up the rooms, the other three just kind of shrugged and gave Sungchan what was technically the master bedroom. It was at the end of the hallway, and while it wasn’t that much bigger than the rest of the bedrooms, it was the only one with an en suite bathroom. You would hesitantly call this a four bedroom house, as you were pretty sure that Yangyang’s room wasn’t actually supposed to be a bedroom. At least not when the house was built. The layout of the bathrooms had been your first clue, with there being just a half bath for him to use—he had to either go down one floor to use Ten and Sicheng’s shower or into Sungchan’s bedroom to use his shower—and the fact that the doors (yes, doors, plural, he had two doors to his very normal-sized bedroom, one of which was the actual entrance and exit from the hallway and the other, which was in an interior wall, could not be opened, despite having a handle and hinges) looked like they had been added decades after the frames had been built. You were stumped as to what the room could’ve originally been, but you were confident that it wasn’t a bedroom, at least. It was something that puzzled and mystified you every time you came over.
Donghyuck and Mark were either done with their spat, or the sounds of it couldn’t carry at the way up here. Either way, you were going to be well onto your way to dreamland soon as you settled down for the night with Sungchan, having done your nighttime routine, changed into your pajamas, and gleefully climbed under the covers.
“Are the other guys staying the night?” You asked Sungchan as he readjusted his pillow next to you to get comfy.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Usually they will if they drink a bit too much, or if they just don’t feel like going all the way home then having to come back this way for Saturday morning practice.”
You made a noncommittal noise, still ruminating over your half-idea in your own mind as you laid there with your eyes shut. The mattress and the sheets shifted beside you as Sungchan curled up behind you, resting a hand on your waist.
“Why are you asking?” He questioned curiously.
“Hyuck…” You sighed, placing your hand over his and slotting your fingers together. “Worried about him, is all.”
“It was some girl in his class that he’d talked to like once in the whole semester. He’ll be okay. Donghyuck’s just got to get the dramatics out of his system first.”
“Even so… Even if he’s just a bit bummed or whatever… Isn’t that what friends are for? To make you feel better when you’re bummed out?” You mused.
“Yeah, I guess so. That’s what Mark’s been trying to do, and he just ended up watching Pride and Prejudice fourteen times.”
You let out a soft burst of air, a quiet chuckle, at that. “Taking one—or, fifteen—for the team.”
Sungchan’s chest shook with a couple silent laughs.
“But really— Can you bring him back here after morning practice tomorrow? I want to take him out. Get his mind off it.”
“Yeah, sure. We can do something.”
“Ah, Channie, I was kind of thinking just me and Hyuck.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you guys pick on him.”
“He picks on us!”
“Baby?”
“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I’ll bring Donghyuck back after practice tomorrow for your little friend date.”
You turned your head to be able to press a fleeting peck to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, baby.”
“But I’m making you breakfast. You two will have to figure out something else.”
In the morning, you were faintly aware of an alarm going off early before it was quickly shut off and you rolled over in bed, burying your face in your pillow. Beyond your eyelids, it was still absolute darkness. You could feel the shifting of the mattress beside you and the press of a gentle kiss to your temple as you quickly sank under the calm waters of sleep once more.
You were half-awoken again some time later, a faint light streaming into your consciousness as the covers shifted once again, and a presence enveloped you from behind that hadn’t been there before. Letting out a peaceful sigh, you listened to the sounds of yours and Sungchan’s breathing as they eventually synced up, and you drifted back off without even realizing it.
Fluttering your eyes open, you groaned softly against the bright morning sunlight. After a couple seconds of squinting and blinking, your eyes had adjusted for the most part, and you rolled onto your other side. Sungchan smiled at you fondly as you rubbed at one of your eyes.
“You awake?” He asked quietly.
“Yep, ‘m up,” you offered a bleary thumbs up. “Just don’t make me solve any differential equations or whatever the fuck. Actually, don’t make me do that when I’m at full capacity either.”
He laughed softly, cradling the back of your head to pull you forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning, baby.”
“Mornin’ Channie,” you said back, punctuated by a yawn. “How was practice?”
“It was good. Donghyuck’s playing video games in the living room with Yangyang, by the way.”
“Good, good.”
“I think that was our smoothest Saturday morning yet. Were you able to go back to sleep okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t even remember waking up at all, really.”
“Success,” he grinned.
You momentarily closed your eyes again, enjoying the peaceful moment as you let your body slowly work towards fully waking up. Sungchan gently stroked the backs of his fingers up and down your arm, and you relaxed even further under his touch.
“I like waking up next to you,” he admitted softly. You squinted one eye back open to look at him as he continued. “Doing it twice in one morning… I think that’s the most I’ve ever loved somebody.”
Shooting up just to push him back against the mattress, you held him there by the shoulders, your grip so tight it probably would’ve hurt if he wasn’t already used to much worse on the ice. He looked up at you with wide eyes.
“Are you trying to kill me, Jung Sungchan?” You accused. “Saying stuff like that to me first thing in the morning, I could melt into a puddle and never re-form! My heart could explode!”
“You don’t think my heart feels like it’s going to explode when I wake up and see you next to me first thing in the morning?” He huffed back. “That just sounds like equity, baby.”
“You don’t know the meaning of that word.”
“Maybe so…”
With a final shake of your head, you let go of him and fell onto your back next to him. He propped himself up on an elbow on his side so he could see you, the beginnings of a pout on his face.
“And what’s that pout for?” You teased, already with a sneaking suspicion.
“Oh, nothing…” He picked up one of your hands, dropping a line of kisses to the back of it and up your wrist and lower arm.
“Okay,” you played along with a smile on your face. “Because I was just thinking that I’ve been awake for a whole five minutes with no good morning kiss. But if it’s nothing, then—”
You couldn’t even finish your sarcastic dramatics before Sungchan had captured your lips with his in a sweet but intense kiss that pressed your head back into the pillow just a little bit. Curling your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt with your other hand, you pulled him even closer, wanting to just be able to melt into each other completely like it felt like your mouths were doing.
Another alarm suddenly went off in the bedroom, different from the one that had gone off in the wee hours of the morning, and you broke the kiss for just a second to snooze it on your smart watch.
“Oh! Your meds.” Sungchan immediately looked over towards his dresser where your go bag was sitting safely.
“I snoozed it; I’ll take them in a few minutes,” you reassured him, grabbing his face to pull his lips back to yours.
He indulged you for a few seconds until you reached a natural break for air, where he instead pecked your cheek before sitting back on his feet. “I’ll grab them for you, I don’t mind.”
With that, he clambered off the bed and over towards the dresser.
It was impossible to get mad at him though as he so eagerly went to help. You were instead filled with such an overwhelming fondness and joy, unable to do much but smile tenderly at him. “Oh, Channie… thank you.”
“Morning, morning, morning,” he muttered to himself as he rooted through your tote bag to pull out the various pill bottles. “That’s… half of this one, one of these, and… one of this? Oh, and you just added this one, too. And your blood pressure cuff.”
“A-plus, Nurse Jung.” You beamed up at him as you sat up in bed, getting in the correct position to take your vitals with the cuff.
He came over to you, dropping your meds in your waiting palm. You looked over the colorful pills momentarily, pleased to see that he’d gotten it exactly correct. After taking them with your water that was on his nightstand, you held out your hand for him to give you your cuff. But instead, he undid the Velcro and went to loop it around your wrist himself, brows furrowing as he concentrated on the task at hand.
“How’s that?” He asked once he had it secured.
“It’s a little too close to my hand, actually, but good first try.” You undid the band, scooting it to the proper position. “It should be a little further above my wrist bone.”
“Okay. Got it.”
The two of you were silent as you waited for your cuff to take your blood pressure and heartrate, the only sounds that of your breathing and the usual ones of the device in operation. After the final beep and deflation, you brought your wrist down from your chest to look at the screen.
“Is that good?” Sungchan asked, focused on the results as well.
“Well these are my pre-dose numbers. And they’re actually a little lower than normal,” you explained, typing them into your health record on your phone with your free hand. “Only by 10 points, but that means that depending on the post-dose I’ll probably just have to keep a closer eye on my numbers today.”
“So now we set a timer for 30 minutes.”
“Yep,” you did so with just a couple more taps on your phone. “And in the meantime, you make me breakfast like you promised.”
“On it.” He smooched your temple, his hands tentatively reaching towards your wrist. “Can I take your blood pressure cuff off you now?”
“Of course.”
He gently peeled off the strap with a rip of the Velcro, standing back up to put it away in its case. Holding the cuff in its hard carrying case in one hand, he offered his other out to you, and you gladly took it, getting it to your feet.
“Hold on a sec…” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you got light-headed for a moment, bright lights flashing in your vision.
“I got you, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pressing his arm to yours and grabbing your other shoulder with his hand—he must have set your cuff down or put it in his pocket.
Once you felt stable on your own two feet again, which took just a few seconds, you blinked a couple times, then smiled up at him. “Okay, ready.”
Downstairs, you could hear video game sounds as you emerged into the kitchen, accompanied by the muffled shouting of three voices. Yangyang, Donghyuck, and that last one had to be Ten, it wasn’t nearly deep enough to be Sicheng. You sat up in the corner of their kitchen counter to watch Sungchan as he cooked, occasionally in the way, but he never asked you to move, and you never offered. It was a simple breakfast, but nothing could beat the proud, happy grin on his face as he held your plate out to you.
“It looks great,” you told him, patting his cheek. “Thank you, Channie.”
“Anything for my girl,” he replied, absolutely beaming as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. You could feel the curl of his smile against your lips.
The two of you had just taken your first bites sat at the kitchen table when Yangyang and Donghyuck wandered in.
“Something smells good,” Yangyang announced, his eyes immediately landing on your food.
You protectively pulled your plate closer to yourself.
“There’s plenty left in the fridge to make your own,” Sungchan replied, pointing towards the kitchen.
Donghyuck plopped down in the seat directly next to the one that you and your boyfriend were jointly occupying—you were on Sungchan’s lap. The sophomore stared longingly at your breakfast.
“Didn’t you guys already eat?” You asked. “You had morning practice.”
“That was forever ago.”
“You’re not stealing my girlfriend’s food, you ungrateful little shits,” the captain glared at the both of them. “Go make your own if you’re so hungry.”
“First Mark wants me to get chlamydia, now you want me to starve,” Donghyuck bemoaned. “Will I ever have a good role model in my life?”
Sungchan fixed you with a pointed look, but you could only giggle at your friend’s dramatics.
“Daddy issues much, Hyuck?” You ruffled his hair, earning loud cackles from Yangyang, and distant laughter from Ten.
Donghyuck stared at you with a dropped jaw as you heard a couple dumbfounded sputters from Sungchan behind you. The younger player recovered quickly, though.
“What gave it away? My unhealthy attachment to older male friends that I see as reliable, or my ‘I Heart DILFs’ shirt?” He retorted sarcastically.
“You do wear that shirt a lot,” you jested back easily. He owned no such shirt to your knowledge.
“And here I thought I was being subtle.” He clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.
“As a trainwreck,” you nodded. “You and Yang either go get your own food or shut the fuck up, okay?”
Donghyuck stood up from his chair, giving you an overzealous salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Yangyang went to follow his friend with a shake of his head. “Mommy issues much, bro?”
You couldn’t contain your laughs, tucking your face back into the crook of Sungchan’s neck to muffle them just a little bit. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him. You kept laughing, even as he gently brushed his lips over the crinkles at the corner of your eye.
iv. because life is beautiful but life is work, so full of joy, so full of hurt
“So tell me about her,” you prompted Donghyuck as soon as the front door shut behind you two.
“What?”
“The girl that you like. Tell me about her.”
“Sungchan said you wanted to take me out to get my mind off it.” He regarded you suspiciously. “And everyone else is telling me I should just move on, stop moping and thinking about her all the time. Don’t know how talking about her more is really going to help that.”
“I heard that she was in one of your classes this semester and you two talked once. But if you’re this broken up about her… sounds like there’s more going on,” you shrugged. “If you want to tell me, I’m all ears. I know you feel like you have to ham it up for the guys all the time, make them laugh and stuff. But you don’t have to do that for me, okay? You don’t owe me entertainment in exchange for tolerating your presence or something. I’m hanging out with you right now because I want to.”
“I talked to her twice, actually. Not counting when she rejected me,” he began abruptly. “We were in the same Brit Lit class this semester, she sat in the seat in front of me. On the first day of class, she turned around to hand me the syllabus and accidentally bumped my water bottle. She smiled, apologized, and handed me the stack of papers and that was that. It’s so not me but I just, I couldn’t talk to her. It’s not just that she’s pretty—I mean she is, like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen—but she’s so smart too. Whenever she’d answer one of the professor’s questions, she’d say something about the story that I would’ve never thought of in a million years. And like, the professor would be impressed too! But every single time I tried to hype myself up to say something, literally anything to her, I’d end up panicking and not doing it.”
“What was the other time? You said you talked to her twice, outside of when you asked her out. What was the other time, after the syllabus?”
He grimaced. “Ugh, right. I was walking across campus from the library to the parking garage one day. I was supposed to be meeting up with Mark at his car to hitch a ride back to the house. I had one of my sticks with me because I was taking it home to retape it, just sort of slung over my shoulders while I waited at the crosswalk. And it was dark, and I heard something behind me, whipped around to look, and ended up knocking her right in the eye with the butt of the stick.”
“Oh no,” you hissed sympathetically.
“I kept apologizing, but since I didn’t have my gear bag on me, just my bookbag and weapon, I didn’t have anything to patch her up with. She had some tissues in her bag thankfully… but I felt so horrible.”
“Aw, Hyuck, it was an accident. I’m sure she knows that.”
“And I felt even more horrible when I saw her in class a couple days later with that same eye black and blue.”
“Ouch…”
“And then on the last day of class, I caught up with her in the hall after turning in our finals, and I finally did it. I finally asked her out. And she said no.”
You let out a forlorn sigh, looping your arm with your friend’s. “I’m sorry, Hyuck. If it makes you feel any better, I think she’s missing out on a really great, sweet guy.”
“That doesn’t really help, but thanks, I guess.”
“I think it’s good to go ahead and be sad for a little bit, if that’s what you’re feeling.”
He let out a cynical chuckle. “I think my sadness is a bit of an inconvenience for the guys.”
“That’s not true,” you reassured him. “They’re just worried about you. You’re usually this big, unstoppable ball of sunshine. It’s like when one of you gets hurt on the ice, right? One of your teammates will slap a bandage where it hurts and you’ll keep playing. They don’t get why the bandages aren’t enough this time.”
“I don’t know if ‘ball of sunshine’ is a phrase that any of them of would use to describe me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “But thank you, Y/N. I didn’t really know what to expect when Sungchan told me that you wanted to hang out with me 1-on-1 today, considering you don’t really know me like you know some of the other guys. Like, I don’t think we’ve even been alone in a room together before, you know?”
“Huh. Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“Now I get it, though.”
“Get what?”
“Why everyone thinks you and Sungchan are gonna get married.”
“What?”
“Not like, now, but that you guys are going to, you know, make it, or whatever. Soulmates or something.”
You quirked up an eyebrow at the underclassman. “You believe in soulmates, Hyuck?”
“Yeah, I think I do. And I’m only telling you this because I don’t think you’ll call it stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s sweet,” you reassured him, patting his shoulder. “A jock with a romantic streak, very swoon-worthy.”
“That how Sungchan got you?” He teased, elbowing you in the side lightly.
“Something like that.”
“Hmph.”
“This isn’t the end for you,” you said knowingly.
“I know, I know. Just feels like it.”
“I get it. Next time you want to watch Pride and Prejudice fourteen times, you can call me up, okay? Give Mark a break.”
“Careful, I might take you up on that.”
“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. But for now, arcade?”
His eyes lit up at you finally revealing where the two of you were going. “Oh hell yeah! I’m so going to annihilate you at air hockey!”
“Don’t count on it,” you warned. “Sungchan’s taught me a few things.”
“Hey, baby, I’m back—” Sungchan skidded to a stop in the threshold of his bedroom, bag of delivery food in hand.
“Hey, Channie,” you smiled up at him as you were sat against his headboard. Donghyuck was curled up on top of the blankets by your legs like a cat, his head in your lap as you gently played with his hair.
“I was gone for like a minute,” your boyfriend gestured to the sophomore with bewilderment. “Does he just have a sixth sense for when you’re alone?”
“I told them they could join us for a movie.”
“Them?”
“Yo, you mind, bro?” Another voice piped up, Yangyang ducking under your boyfriend’s arm to walk in. He flopped across the foot of the bed, partially on Donghyuck’s legs.
“Oh, hey, Sungchan,” Jeno almost sounded surprised to see the captain in his own room as he followed his teammate in, laying down on his front with his arms and head resting on Yangyang’s back, and his feet up by the pillows.
“Well, I didn’t order enough for all of you,” Sungchan sighed, climbing over Jeno to settle into the empty space left beside you. “And no filching off Y/N, Donghyuck. Go downstairs and get your own food if you’re hungry.”
Hyuck tried to protest, “But—”
“Two of you don’t even live here, be grateful I let you eat as much as I do from our fridge, you’re not also getting the dinner that I bought for me and my girlfriend.”
“Fine. I’ll text Mark to bring snacks.”
“Mark, too?!”
Walking back with the guys to the Puck Pad after the last hockey practice of the calendar year, there was an elated buzz in the air now that the athletes were all finally on their own winter break. They were going over their plans for their short break: Jeno and Yangyang were going to Jeno’s parents’ the next day, Ten and Sicheng would both be leaving for their own homes tonight, meanwhile Mark and Donghyuck were both from the area, so they were staying at the Nu Chi house and just meeting up with their families on the holidays.
Realizing that you and Sungchan hadn’t really talked about your holiday plans yet, you peered up at him, about to ask, when suddenly your head started feeling light. You furrowed your brow, trying to blink away the momentary confusion as whatever you were about to say had slipped from your mind. Your head didn’t feel right on your body, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly it was.
Sungchan took just one look at you before letting go of your hand to instead grab your upper arm to steady you. His other hand went diving into the pockets of the practice bag in front of you, fervently searching for something.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Jeno, the owner of the bag, whipped around to look at him incredulously.
“Where’s your snacks?” Sungchan was fumbling into another pocket now.
“Ate them already. I’m bulking.”
“Dude, bad idea,” Ten snorted.
“Shut up, Ten!”
Sungchan had started ransacking another teammate’s bag, and successfully pulled out a sports drink this time.
“Hey, that’s mine!” Yangyang protested.
Your boyfriend stopped and sat you on a bench nearby, cracking open the drink. “Y/N, here.”
“Bad idea to what?” You squinted your eyes up between Ten and Jeno curiously.
“Why does she need—” Yangyang was still complaining.
“Jeno’s been talking to Sugar n’ Spice,” Donghyuck answered your question, mischievous glint in his eye.
“Who—” You mumbled, but got cut off by the bottle being pushed against your lips insistently.
“Y/N,” Sungchan’s stern voice refocused you, and you obliged, taking a small sip of the sugary drink.
Ten continued filling you in, “Sugar n’ Spice and Everything Nice. One of Johnny’s old girlfriends.”
Jeno crossed his arms with an indignant huff, “They were not—”
“And who are you really going to believe? Johnny or her?” Donghyuck retorted.
“You didn’t even go here when they—”
“Guys, shut the hell up!” Mark finally snapped at all of them, gesturing to your general unwell demeanor.
“Oh shit dude.” Yangyang’s eyes widened.
“Yeah.”
“Bro, she does not look good,” Jeno stated the obvious.
“She’ll be fine in a minute,” Sungchan replied, holding the bottle back up to your mouth. His voice was firm but gentle as he instructed you, “Y/N, drink some more.”
“Anyway, Jeno, no matter how much you bulk, it’s not going to make up for the inches you’re missing. Height or otherwise,” Donghyuck taunted nonchalantly.
“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to break your fucking nose, come here!” Jeno lunged for the underclassman, only making him yelp and dart away.
“Don’t—!” Mark’s warning was cut off as Jeno chased Donghyuck down, his voice fading out as he sighed and finished quietly, “...Cause any permanent damage...”
“You okay, Y/N?” Sicheng asked, as you took a couple more small sips.
You nodded. “Just a bit low, uhm, blood sugar. I’ll be okay.”
It always took you a few minutes to realize when you were low on your own, but Sungchan could tell with just one glance at you—it made you wonder what you looked like when you got like this.
Back at the Puck Pad that evening, you had already said your goodbyes to Ten and Sicheng; and Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were upstairs in Yangyang’s room allegedly helping him pack. Judging by the video game sounds you could hear from the bottom of the stairs, they had gotten a little distracted. Sungchan and you had settled down in the living room to watch a movie, and with the fog lifted from your mind, you were able to remember what you were going to ask him earlier.
“Hey, Channie?” You picked your head up from his chest to be able to look at him. He was laying on his back across the whole couch, you snuggled in on top of him.
“Hm?” He looked from the TV to you.
“What are your plans?”
“Oh. Well…” He paused the movie, his hands coming to settle on your lower back and sneaking just under the hem of your (his) hoodie to trace spirals into your skin. “Our lease ends after graduation, and Yangyang’s been talking about looking for a place with Jeno, and Ten and Sicheng are probably going to get their own place. I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but every time I try to think what I’m going to do, I just imagine that we would move in together.”
Your dumbfounded silence encouraged him to go on, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.
“Like, I don’t know, being able to wake up next to you everyday, and sleep in on the weekends with you with no practice. Cooking breakfast for you every morning, even just grocery shopping together. It’s all I can think about, really.”
You finally choked out, “I-I meant for the holidays. Like, visiting family, being in town…”
His cheeks started flushing. “Right. Sorry. I’m visiting my family on Christmas Day. What about you?”
“Me too.”
“We should spend Christmas Eve together, then.”
“Yeah, sounds good. New Year’s, too?”
“Of course. Who else would I kiss at midnight?”
A fond smile spread across your lips, and you tilted your head up to give him a peck. “Of course.”
“So, uhm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “The other thing I mentioned?”
“What are you doing after graduation? Made a decision about that PhD program?”
“Yep… more school,” he sighed.
“Me, too.” You pulled a blanket up over you two. “I think… Yeah, we can move in together. I’d really like that.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so happy, baby.”
“You could just move in with me? To my apartment?” You suggested as a grin spread across your face. You were getting giddy already imagining it.
Another forehead kiss. “I would love that.”
“You make me really happy too, Channie,” you murmured, your fingertip tracing mindless figure-eights into the front of his shirt.
“I love you so much.” He cradled your face with two hands with a tenderness that made your heart ache to be a part of him in a way that you could never physically attain.
You leaned in to touch your nose to his. “I love you, too.”
Christmas Eve was just a couple days later, and instead of walking in the park amongst the freshly fallen snow, or touring the elaborate lights put up in the rich neighborhood nearby, or baking Christmas cookies while watching cheesy Christmas movies, or any of your other cute Christmas plans with Sungchan, you were bedridden with a migraine. A bad one.
You let out a soft whimper as tears welled up in your eyes, both from the pain and from pure frustration at having something else ruined for you because of these stupid migraines. Ice skating you could reschedule, but you couldn’t take a rain check on your first Christmas (Eve) together.
Sungchan curled his arms around you tighter, a steady pressure across your back. “It’s been two hours,” he murmured as quietly as possible.
“I don’t want my stupid fucking medication that isn’t fucking working,” you practically spat out, the first tears slipping down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sungchan pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, careful to avoid your scalp, which currently felt like it was on fire in addition to your usual squeezing and stabbing migraine pain. Side effect from a new rescue medication your neurologist was having you try. Safe to say it wasn’t a winner.
At the distress in his own tone over his usual regrets of seeing you hurting but not being able to help, you finally broke down into open sobs. Clenching your eyes shut tight, you clung to his arms. Your chest shook with every breath as you quietly wailed, burying your face in your pillow. You couldn’t bear to turn around and see the angst on your boyfriend’s features.
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “If I could take all your pain away and put it on myself, I would. God, I’m so, so sorry.”
You could hardly talk past the solid, hard lump in your throat, at first letting out a couple more strangled sobs as your tears and spit ruined your pillowcase. When you finally blubbered something out, your voice was distraught and despondent, “Why can I never… never have nice things? Why does it feel like the world is so big and nothing can go right and it all hurts so much… and I’m just so small and my body and my brain are… so broken?”
“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know,” Sungchan replied desperately, fully weeping with you into your shoulder now. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”
You eventually fell asleep, but unlike your typical migraine naps, this one didn’t bring any sort of peace to Sungchan’s mind. Usually the naps were a good sign, you would wake up without the migraine and be relatively all better. But you’d never cried yourself to sleep during a migraine before, and having to hold a bawling you in his arms while he couldn’t do anything but apologize for being absolutely useless had left him shaken up. He didn’t think he’d be able to nap with you this time.
Sungchan didn’t dare move, keeping watch over you as you slept as if he could keep anymore pain away. He could still hear the echo of his heart breaking into a million pieces the moment you’d started crying.
Your head still fucking hurt. But this was a different throbbing than before, and was definitely from the heavy crying you’d done earlier. You groaned, covering your eyes and sniffling.
You could hear Sungchan’s breathing next to you, but he didn’t say anything as you rolled over to bury your face in his neck. Letting out a deep sigh, you found that you were dried out, unable to summon more tears. Finally, you spoke, “What time is it?”
God, your throat was dry.
“Six forty-five…” he replied softly.
“Well, Merry Christmas, Channie,” you grumbled.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
“Do you think it’s too late to go see the Christmas lights?”
You could feel him tense up under you.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to make yourself do anything for me, baby,” he reassured you, rubbing your back.
“I want to…” You insisted. “I just… probably need my earplugs. And sunglasses.”
“Of course, whatever you want.”
“And then we can come back and do eggnog pancakes?” You asked hopefully. The migraine had started right before Sungchan could start cooking this morning, so you weren’t able to enjoy your promised festive breakfast prepared by your boyfriend.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And then presents.”
“Like I said, anything my girl wants.”
And so Sungchan drove you around in his car with the radio off, your sunglasses on like it wasn’t dusk right then, and earplugs in to drown out the sounds of passing traffic. The two of you were silent through the whole ride, communicating solely by squeezing the other’s hand that was laced with yours over the center console, pointing at any lights and decorations that either of you particularly liked, and smiling and nodding in acknowledgement.
When you got back to your apartment, you took off your sunglasses and earplugs to plop yourself down at your kitchen table while Sungchan once again brought out ingredients. He hummed Christmas carols while he cooked, and you rested your cheek in your hand to watch him fondly as he bustled around.
Your head was still throbbing, and you winced as you pulled your hood up and gathered your knees to your chest. As Sungchan opened the fridge to put the eggnog away, you saw him pull something else out, a familiar box.
“When is your injection?” He asked quietly, holding the container up.
You scrunched your nose as you brought out your phone to check your calendar. “It’s… oh shit, today.”
“I’ll leave it out to warm up.” He set it on the counter before going over to your stove and setting a timer for an hour.
You were supposed to wait at least 30 minutes after the medication left the fridge to inject it, but you liked to wait closer to an hour or two to make sure it had fully come to room temperature, to reduce any injection pain.
The pancakes were ready soon, and Sungchan and you ate them on the couch, the odd bits of conversation floating around between bites.
“So what are you and your family doing tomorrow?” Sungchan rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Oh, dinner’s at my parents’ place. I’ll pop over to Chenle’s family’s Christmas, too. They’re just across the street,” you hummed. “We don’t do a lot, but everyone comes over, so it’ll be a packed house.”
“That’s nice.”
“What about you, Channie? Any Christmas traditions?”
“You’re eating it,” he said proudly. “My dad always makes eggnog pancakes on Christmas morning. Then we go to my grandparents’ house for the day.”
You couldn’t wade through the slop that your mind was covered in to be able to aptly express how you felt about Sungchan sharing one of his family’s Christmas traditions with you, so instead you turned your head to press a long kiss to his cheek, squeezing his forearm appreciatively. He seemed to get the message, and moved his head to be able to kiss you gently.
“I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled against your lips. Then, pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “I’m so glad we got to spend today together.”
You couldn’t help but bite down on your tongue bitterly at that. “Yeah, I love you too, Channie.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“My stupid migraines ruined our day! Again!” You turned away from him, dropping your face in your hands.
Immediately, one of his large hands rubbed your back while his other came to rest on your knee. “Baby, baby, my day wasn’t ruined.”
“We didn’t get to do anything how we wanted, and all I did was cry and make you cry!” You felt your eyes growing wet again. “And I’m fucking crying again!”
“I really do wish you hadn’t spent all day in pain,” he admitted. “You deserve to have the perfect Christmas Eve like all the cheesy rom-coms you like. But please don’t feel like you ruined my day or anything. I spent the whole day with my girl, which is a perfect day in my book.”
You wiped at your face messily, looking over your shoulder at him. “You really mean that?”
“Of course.”
“Even though I made you cry on Christmas? …Eve?”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been fair for you to be the only one of us who did.”
That finally made you chuckle, and Sungchan gave you a soft smile in return as he pulled you into him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying his warmth.
“Thank you, my Sungchannie,” you mumbled. “For being the most wonderful boyfriend in the whole universe.”
“The whole universe?” He repeated skeptically.
“Yep. Not even a competition.”
The kitchen timer went off then, and he gave you a final shoulder squeeze and peck to your temple before standing up and heading into the kitchen. He returned with your medication and stupidly large first aid kit. Popping the first aid kit open, he dutifully started pulling out an alcohol wipe, then an antihistamine. Sungchan had been around for your last injection by happenstance, and watched your every move carefully, so you weren’t surprised that he was able to get everything ready now.
“I don’t need that unless I break out,” you tried to point out. You weren’t allergic to the medication, but sometimes you got hives around the injection site within the first day or so just from it making your skin more sensitive.
“Baby, you always break out,” he insisted, presumably remembering when you started reacting less than an hour later last time, and all your stories about other post-injection reactions.
“No, there’s been like… a couple times I haven’t.”
He pointedly set the antihistamine down with the alcohol swab, then held up the bandage options for you to choose from.
“Mm… Sanrio,” you nodded to your newest addition. “I want a Kuromi.”
He fished out a bandaid with a Kuromi pattern on it, setting it aside. You broke the seal on the medication box as Sungchan walked into the kitchen. At the sound of running water, you looked up curiously, watching as he thoroughly washed his hands to the elbow like he was about to scrub in for an operation.
As he sat back down beside you, he held out his hands. “Can I do it?”
You froze, freshly opened box in hand. In the nearly two years that you’d been taking the injectable, you’d always done it yourself. Even your first demonstration dose at your neurologist’s office you’d done on your own to learn how to operate it. It had never occurred to you to ask anybody else to, really. Technically, the directions said you could, but you lived by yourself, had always been alone.
“If you’re okay with it,” Sungchan added after a couple beats of silence. “It’s fine if you want to do it yourself. I get it. You’ve just had a really long day, I want to help.”
“They say someone else can do the back of your arm…” You looked down at the small card of directions that you picked up out of the carton, a diagram highlighting all the possible injection areas. “But I want to be able to see it. So you’ll still have to do my thigh.”
“Okay.” He nodded seriously, accepting the box as you handed it to him.
He took a moment to study the instructions very carefully, and you opened the bandage in preparation. When he set the directions down and picked up the alcohol wipe, you rolled up the leg of your shorts and readjusted in your seat.
“I usually do it here.” You pointed to a spot, and he wiped the cool material over the area thoroughly.
Next, he grabbed the auto-injector from the box, pulling the cap off the end and dropping it back in the carton. You consciously tried to level your breathing as he paused to read the directions one more time. Sungchan pinched your skin and pulled it apart until it was properly taut.
“Do you want a countdown?” He asked.
“No, but hold on, I need to relax my muscle.” You flexed and eased your thigh a couple times, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, good.”
You kept your eyes focused just off to the side of the injection—you’ve never been able to watch needles go in you that you weren’t operating yourself, but you couldn’t fully look away this time. So instead, your gaze was on Sungchan’s forearm, the auto-injector enough in your peripheral that you could tell if something were to go wrong.
He pressed the blunt plastic tip against your skin. As requested, you had no countdown before the near-simultaneous click of the pen and prick of the needle came, followed by the stinging pain of the medication being pumped into you. You let out a slight hiss, already counting in your mind. The built-in indicator that meant the injection was over was displayed on the pen already, but you noticed that Sungchan kept holding it there until you reached your fifteen-count in your head. He had remembered from when he watched you last time, and must have been counting himself. The directions said to leave it in until the indicator showed, about 15 seconds, but you always liked to count to 15 seconds just in case, something you’d mentioned off-handedly last time.
As soon as he took the injector out and tossed it in the box on the table, you watched as a dot of blood and clear fluid—medicine—welled to the surface. Sungchan rushed to pull the bandage out, applying it to the site, catching the drop just in time before it fell down your leg. He gingerly smoothed down the ends, Kuromi smirking back up at you two.
Sungchan took the empty auto-injector into your bedroom, and you heard the telltale sound of it clanking into the plastic sharps disposal bin you kept under the bathroom sink. When he came back, you were already picking up the trash and closing up the first aid kit.
“Don’t forget your antihistamine,” he reminded you, holding out the tablet and your water bottle.
With your hands full, you leaned forward to take a sip from the straw of your bottle, then opened your mouth like a baby bird for him to drop the pill into. You swallowed it with slight difficulty, but he seemed content that you’d taken it, at least.
After everything was cleaned up, you meandered back into the living room, stopping in front of the couch to inspect the injection site with a pout.
“Is everything okay, baby?” Sungchan sat forward, brow furrowed with concern.
“Hurts…” You whined, flopping down next to him. “It didn’t use to burn after like this, but ever since my neuro upped my dose last month… it hurts.”
“Aw, I’m sorry,” he pulled you closer to him with two arms around your waist.
You made a small ‘humph’ sound, habitually poking at the injection site. Ow, dumbass.
“Thank you, baby,” Sungchan mumbled into your neck. “For letting me help you.”
The genuine relief in his voice made you smile to yourself. You knew how cut up he was every time he couldn’t help during your migraines, and at first you didn’t get why he wanted to do your injection this time. After all, this was the same guy who had you come with him to get his blood drawn for his routine drug testing by disguising it as an ice cream date then suddenly remembering that he had to stop by the student health center on the way there (and jumped at your offer to come back with him to hold his hand instead of waiting in the lobby). But in his mind, doing your injection must’ve been the best he could do to help prevent you from hurting again like he’d seen today.
“Why are you the sweetest boy ever?” You whispered, kissing his hair.
Sungchan let out a muffled giggle. “Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Mm, I don’t know,” he hummed playfully. “Think I was born like this.”
“We’ve got to make sure you don’t go out in the rain, or you’ll melt,” you teased.
“I mean what I said the other day, you know. Just didn’t want to scare you… but I really do think this is the most I’ve ever loved someone. I know it hasn’t been that long, and it always feels like I’m rushing stuff with you, but it just always feels right. Everything always feels right all the time with you.”
“I knew what I was getting myself into when you said ‘I love you’ on our second date,” you reminded him, fond smile flitting across your lips.
“I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” he grumbled.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you were so adorable when you tried to pretend like you didn’t.”
“You were wearing my hoodie and had whipped cream on your nose and you were just so… perfect,” he defended himself, trailing off into a dreamy sigh. He smooched your cheek loudly. “Still are.”
You laughed, squirming a little bit at the sudden attack of affection, but not moving away as he peppered more overzealous kisses to your face. You instead cradled his cheek with one of your hands.
When he’d finally stopped to rest his chin on your shoulder again, you responded a bit more seriously to him, “I love you too… a lot. I don’t really have any romantic metric, to be honest. Migraines have sort of made it hard to date… or inconvenient, at least. But you need to know that I really do love and appreciate you so, so much, my Sungchannie.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he nodded just the slightest against you, gently rocking the two of you side-to-side.
You grabbed one of his hands to play with his fingers, slightly calloused from the weightlifting you knew was part of his mandatory hockey conditioning. Hockey season was already halfway over. His last season. You couldn’t imagine Jung Sungchan not playing hockey.
“Channie?”
“My girl?”
“I know we already talked about moving in together after graduation, but… What are you going to do after hockey’s over? I kind of can’t picture you not on the ice.”
You could feel him take a deep breath, and his free hand came to join the fray as it found one of your wrists. Specifically, the one that sported a thick blue and orange paracord bracelet with five plastic alphabet beads on it—2-7-J-S-C—that every hockey player made their freshman year. Sungchan gave you his not too long ago, on your one-month anniversary.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t make himself say it any louder. “I’ve tried to think about it too and… I can’t. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I don’t… really have anything else. Just school, hockey, and you.”
“We’ll find you a hobby or two,” you promised, squeezing his hand. “Maybe you can take piano lessons again.”
He chuckled, letting you gently curl and uncurl his crooked pinky, the one he had broken that made him stop playing in the first place. “I don’t know… I think that might be gone for me.”
“If it’s something you really liked, you should do it,” you insisted. “It would just be for fun. I think it’d be nice, if you found the right teacher.”
“Well…”
“If you want to, Channie. I’m just brainstorming here.”
“Hockey season’s not over yet,” he pointed out. “We can circle back around in the summer.”
“That’s true, that’s true,” you agreed. “You should be savoring every moment right now, not letting me make you prematurely existential. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forward-thinking, baby, I appreciate that.”
“But it’s your last season, you don’t need me reminding you of that all the time.”
“Then why are we still talking about it, hm?” He said, mischievous smile on his face.
“We’re not! We’re not!” You held your hands up in surrender. “It’s present time! I swear!”
Sungchan laughed as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple.
“Hi, Mr. Zhong!” You were beaming as you walked into Chenle’s house the next day, immediately being wrapped in a bear hug by his dad. “Merry Christmas!”
“Y/N! It’s been too long, too long,” he complained as you went to hug your best friend next, who had also come to greet you.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Chenle hugged you tightly.
“Merry Christmas, LeLe.”
Letting go of your friend, you turned back to his dad, who was still waiting for a response, his hands on his hips.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Zhong,” you bowed your head in apology. “We just get so busy with school and—”
“Yeah, Y/N’s been really busy with her new boyfriend!” Chenle announced loudly, making sure that every occupant in the whole house could hear him.
“Y/N! You have a boyfriend?!” Mrs. Zhong called from the kitchen.
“Boyfriend?!” Mr. Zhong echoed in shock, his eyes going comically wide.
You were already smacking Chenle on the head and pinching his ear furiously. “Zhong Chenle, you little— I’m going to kill you!”
Chenle jerked out of your grip and ran away, you hot on his heels. He ran right into the kitchen, where his mother and several aunties immediately swarmed you.
“Y/N!” Mrs. Zhong grasped you by the wrist, pulling you over towards the stove where several things were cooking. She grabbed a spoonful of something from a bubbling pot and held it out towards you to try. As you leaned forward to taste it, she asked, “So, who is this boyfriend Chenle is talking about?”
“Is he handsome?” Another woman asked.
“Does he hold the door open for you?”
“What’s his name?”
“Does he know how to cook?”
“Do we know him?”
“Does he have a job?”
“How did you two meet?”
“Show us a picture!”
You choked on the rather delicious spoonful of soup that you’d just taken as you heard Chenle’s cackling laughter in the background. Wiping your mouth, you turned around to shoot him a glare before answering some of their questions.
“His name is Jung Sungchan, he goes to the same college as Chenle and I. We actually all had a class together a few years ago,” you started off slowly.
“Pictures, Y/N!” One of the aunties insisted.
“Yeah, Y/N, show us pictures!” Chenle repeated. “Or I will.”
“I will end you,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled out your phone. Flicking through your gallery, you found a few that you really liked.
They were from his last home game, and these in particular were taken by Taeyong, as it had been the game against their league rivals, which drew in the graduated Nu Chi brothers and team members. You pulled the first one up, him still in his uniform as you had gone down to congratulate him right on the ice. He was towering over you even more than normal in his skates, an arm around your shoulders as you wrapped both of yours around his waist, the two of you smiling at the camera. As you went to show the picture to everyone, your skin started growing hot with the ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s that sprang up among the women.
“He plays hockey for our school, he’s actually captain.” You grew even more embarrassed as Mrs. Zhong zoomed in on Sungchan’s face.
“Chenle,” she looked up at her son with squinted eyes. “Is this your handsome friend who brought you home when you were drunk?”
“Mom, that was one time three years ago,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Chenle,” she said sternly.
“Yes, that’s him.”
Her face broke into a lovely smile. “Oh, I liked him. Very polite.”
“Yeah, I know, Mom. You still talk about it.”
“When was this?” You asked your friend with bewilderment. The two of you did everything together, including getting embarrassingly shitfaced as freshmen. Or, Chenle would get embarrassingly shitfaced and you would watch, thanks to your migraine meds.
“There was a Nu Chi party, after the Halloween one…” Chenle explained, and you appreciated him leaving out the details of the Halloween party in front of all these people. “Long story short, I didn’t realize how strong the punch was. Sungchan gave me a ride home.”
“Very polite, very handsome,” Mrs. Zhong nodded approvingly. She swiped to the next picture for you, this one of Sungchan kissing your cheek as you laughed and grabbed his jersey.
They all tittered and made various comments and approving noises, and you quickly turned your phone off and put it away bashfully.
“So, yeah… that’s him,” you finished awkwardly among their disappointed noises of you taking away the photos.
“I like him.” Chenle’s mom patted your cheek before turning back to the stove. “And if he gives you any trouble, you know Chenle will…”
“Mom did you see him? What do you think I could possibly do?” Chenle retorted. “He literally carried me in here over his shoulder, I don’t think I could really defend Y/N’s honor if it came to it!”
“Chenle…”
“Fine, Mom!”
v. i sat across from you, reading ulysses; and whilst i tried to project some intellect i’m not convinced i knew what it all meant, but i did know that the words were so pretty
“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Sungchan mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder.
You giggled, brushing some of his hair from his face. “Hmm, a couple times.”
“What?!” His head snapped back up, distress on his features. “Only twice?! God, what kind of boyfriend am I?”
The two of you were back in the team’s favorite dive bar, this time after the last home game of the season. It had been a smashing victory—in addition to the seniors’ last time to play a game on their home ice—meaning that everyone, including all of the long-graduated players and Nu Chi Tau brothers who had shown up, were celebrating extra hard tonight. You’d driven your car specifically to allow Sungchan to let loose for the occasion, hence his currently more-than-buzzed state.
He’d pulled you into his lap at the corner booth you were sitting at some time ago, morphing into the lovey-dovey cuddle monster that he always was when tipsy. Not that he exactly kept his hands to himself when he was sober either, but as soon as alcohol entered the equation, it was like he thought he’d die if he weren’t holding you at all times.
“I was playing, baby, you tell me that all the time,” you reassured him.
“Oh, good.” He breathed out in relief, going back to snuggling up to your shoulder. “Because you’re sooo pretty. Like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks, Channie.” You kissed the top of his head. “I think you’re pretty, too.”
“You do?”
“For sure.” You traced the line of the bridge of his nose. “My pretty boy.”
He hummed contentedly, but didn’t say anything more, letting his eyes flutter shut.
Ten, Taeyong, and another graduated Nu Chi brother, Kun, came over to your booth then, sliding into the seat across from you.
“Is he asleep?” Taeyong gestured to Sungchan.
“No, just a cuddly drunk,” you explained with a fond chuckle.
“‘M not drunk…” Your boyfriend protested.
“Tell that to the victory shots you were doing with Hyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang an hour ago,” you snorted, pushing your glass of water over towards him. “Here, some water, Channie.”
Kun offered out the half-eaten basket of onion rings that he’d walked over with. “Have some of these, too, Sungchan.”
“Sweet, thanks!” He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth happily.
“Thanks, Kun,” you smiled at him. “He didn’t drink on an empty stomach, so we should be ready to go in a bit. I want him mostly able to walk on his own two feet before we leave, though. Carrying a drunk Chenle and drunk Sungchan would be very different experiences, I feel.”
They all snickered, and you looked over at where your friend was currently pulling all of the cash out of his pocket to bet on a pool game between Johnny, Jaehyun—a former hockey player who had graduated last year, Jungwoo, and Yuta—former hockey player and Nu Chi brother, from the same cohort as Johnny. It looked like Dejun was running the betting pool, collecting Chenle’s money in addition to Hendery’s, Mark’s, and Hyuck’s.
“I feel like we should do something about the gambling happening over there…” Taeyong sighed, having been looking in the same direction as you.
“Probably,” Kun agreed, though neither of them made any move to get up. They simultaneously took swigs of their drinks.
“Y/N, what did you think of the reading for Direct Study?” Ten asked you, resting his very pink cheek in his hand.
“Oh, I thought it was fantastic!” You lit up. You and Ten both had Dr. Son for a Direct Study course this semester, and he was letting you two collaborate since you had such similar tastes in literature—you had a feeling your professor also liked having only one reading list and being able to meet with the both of you at once instead of separately. “I’ve always loved that author, though. The way her short stories can either be a quick read or you can really sit and take your time with them to absorb and peel back as many layers as you want.”
“You’ve read her before?”
“I recommended her to Dr. Son a while ago, actually. I read another one of her short story collections and sort of fell in love. I’ve been working through her whole body of work on my own time, but I hadn’t made it to this one yet, so I’m going into it with fresh eyes like you. I’m excited to see what you’ve been getting out of her works.”
“I think her diction is really fascinating.”
“Yes!” You gushed. “You can tell she takes her time with which words she’s using. Oh, I just love it.”
“You’re doing the Master’s in Literary Theory and Critical Analysis next year, right?”
“Yep! Picked my classes a couple weeks ago.”
Your friend flashed you a wide grin. “Thank God. There will be someone else competent.”
“Yeah, I’m doing Lit and Crit, and this one—” you patted Sungchan’s head as he was still shoveling onion rings in his mouth “—is going for his PhD in molecular biology.”
“Woah.” Ten’s eyebrows shot up.
“And what are you going to do with that, Sungchan?” Taeyong asked curiously.
“Fish,” your boyfriend answered absentmindedly through a mouthful of food.
You couldn’t help but laugh with your whole chest at his answer, even as you went to cover his mouth. “Chew and swallow before you talk, Channie. I think you just spat crumbs on poor Kun.”
The older man was flicking a piece of an onion ring off of his arm, giving you a strained, close-lipped smile.
Sungchan spent a considerable amount of time chewing his food, then washed it down with your water before giving a more cognizant answer. “I’m going to study a disease in a fish.”
“Molecular biology with a minor concentration in marine biology,” you corrected yourself and clarified his answer a bit more. “He’s joining one of his professors’ research teams.”
“Congrats, Sungchan,” the former Nu Chi president told him sincerely.
“Yeah, dude, wow,” Ten blinked, laughed, then shook his head. “You know, I don’t even know if I knew what your major actually was this whole time.”
“Seriously?” You snorted. “You two have been teammates for four years, and have lived together for two years.”
“I mean, I knew he was a STEM major,” Ten tried to defend himself. “But past that… yeah, I had no clue. It’s just sort of you know, when you think of Jung Sungchan, you think of hockey. He’s the hockey captain. I mean, does anybody really know Mark’s major?”
“I—”
“Not you, Taeyong, we know he was your Little.”
You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, but found yourself drawing a blank. After all this time of getting closer to the team, you had sort of prided yourself on being friends with and knowing all of your boyfriend’s teammates on some individual level as people. But frustratingly, all you could think up for Mark was that he was Nu Chi president, center on the hockey team, and had been in your Comp I class a few years ago—a Gen Ed credit.
“Well damn,” you said bitterly.
“Exactly.”
After a beat, Taeyong spoke up quietly, “Music Theory. He likes producing music.”
Ten, Sungchan, and you all let out a chorus of ‘ohh’s at this revelation. You looked over at where Mark was spectating the pool game—from a vantage point of leaning tipsily against Johnny’s side when he wasn’t shooting, and against Jaehyun’s side when Johnny was shooting. You watched with amusement as he got passed back and forth, happy to see him being taken care of for once instead of taking care of all his friends.
“I should go swap out my Little’s drink for some water,” Taeyong announced. It was then that Hyuck must have made some comment to Mark, as Mark shoved his friend away with a loud complaint, his tone sounding rather embarrassed. “And my grand-little too…”
Dejun, Hendery, and Chenle were spectating their drunken spat in fits of giggles. Dejun and Hendery both reached for their drinks again, and Kun shook his head.
“I should do the same for my own demons before they get to that point,” Kun stood up with Taeyong.
Ten followed them out, “And I’m not going to third wheel. Bye, you two!”
“Bye, guys,” you gave the three of them farewells. “Congrats again, Ten.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” he beamed down at you genuinely.
“Oh, Kun!” You called for him before he could get out of earshot.
He stopped a turned to you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
“Thanks for the onion rings, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I have one more favor to ask: Can you cut Chenle off too?” You requested. “And I’m not sure how you all are sorting out DDs tonight, but—”
“I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” he promised. “You two have a goodnight.”
“Thanks. Goodnight!”
Looking between Sungchan and the empty onion ring basket, you then checked the time on your phone.
“Alright, are you ready to go, baby?” You asked him quietly.
He nodded with his whole upper body. “Am I going home with you?”
“Yep. I’m taking you back to my place, and our classes all got canceled tomorrow for Spring Break, remember?” You shouldered your tote bag. “So we get to sleep in.”
“That’s my favorite thing.”
You giggled. “Sleeping in?”
“No, waking up with you,” he wrapped both his arms around your waist again. “And giving you a good morning kiss, and cooking breakfast for you, and helping you with your meds and your cuff.”
“I have a feeling I’ll be getting you meds in the morning tomorrow,” you quipped, pecking his forehead. “But I think mornings with my Sungchannie are one of my favorite things, too.”
“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”
“Hard to argue you with you there,” you snickered. “So are you ready to go? The sooner we go home and go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning, you know.”
“You’re so smart, baby. My girl’s the smartest ever…”
Pushing yourself out of his lap, you pulled him out of the booth after you and onto his feet. He immediately looped his arm around your shoulders, and you kept a hand on his chest and an arm around his waist to steady him as you started towards the exit. At the door, the two of you stopped to give the whole bar a final wave and call goodbye to anybody who heard you. You got a loud, raucous chorus of yelled and slurred goodbyes in return before you headed out to your car.
Back at your apartment, you made him change out of his clothes that smelled like the bar and into some of his that he kept here, then got into your own pajamas for the night before flopping into bed.
“Okay, question,” you announced as he laid his head in your lap, throwing an arm across your legs as if you were going anywhere.
“About?” He asked, his eyes fluttering shut and a content smile coming to his face as you started playing with his hair.
“How do you think you made it to the top two in Phantasmagorical Phriday this year? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not trying to be mean, Channie, or like, a Lit major elitist or anything, but Chenle and I have both been studying this stuff for four years now, right? Hendery has at least taken professional writing classes and some other stuff for his Comm degree. I think. But, no offense, you STEM majors aren’t exactly lauded for your excellent prose. First year, okay, we’re all brand new at it, and Dr. Son actually did real workshopping with us on it. But after that, we were essentially just getting coffee together once a month and then sending him a short story.”
He squinted one eye open to peer up at you curiously. “Do you think I bought off Dr. Son or something?”
“Bought off our professor so that you would almost win? Sounds like a waste of your money. Maybe bought off Chenle and Hendery to write shitty stories this year and better your chances? But you knew I was so morally upstanding that I wouldn’t take the bribe.”
“Oh, definitely. You’ve cracked it,” he snickered, closing his eyes again to enjoy your fingers working through his hair.
“I mean… Do you have a secret poetry journal in here somewhere?”
“No. You just kind of are being a little bit of a—” he was cut off by a loud yawn “—Lit major elitist, baby.”
“Mm?” You tilted your head with a confusion, perturbed frown on your face.
“You think that every STEM major just gets their Gen Ed humanities credits and never picks up a book again for the rest of their life.”
“Well…”
“Am I wrong?”
“It’s not like I’m out here balancing equations for fun!” You tried to defend yourself. “I got my science credits and never looked back.”
“I took a few more creative writing and literature classes sometimes,” he shrugged. “Whenever I had a spare slot in my schedule, or needed a couple credits of whatever to keep my scholarship for the semester.”
“Yeah, student athletes, you guys have to be full-time in order to keep your scholarships.”
“Mhm. Sometimes all the classes I needed for my degree that were happening in a semester didn’t uhm, didn’t make the minimum credits, so I needed another class or two.”
“Why lit classes? And writing classes?”
“Baby, it’s literally what you’ve been studying for four years and you’re acting like you can’t understand why anybody would be interested in it,” Sungchan pointed out, pinching your thigh.
You swatted his hand away. “No, I’m just trying to understand you.”
“Did I really act like I hated Dr. Son’s class that much freshman year? I did all four years of Phantasmagorical Phriday.”
“No, you didn’t seem like you hated it or anything. I just thought that you would’ve used the extra slots for easy classes. PE or something.”
“Yeah, Coach was always trying to get me to take his classes.”
“But you just really like writing and lit classes that much?”
“Why is this so surprising to you?”
“Well— I just kind of feel bad that I keep leaving you out of all the crit lit conversations that Ten and I have,” you admitted guiltily, not intending to leave him out of all your fun conversation with his teammate about books in your lit classes, but he never seemed all that interested; nor had he read any of the books, to your knowledge. “Do you want to borrow books or read along so you can talk with us about it?”
“That’s okay, baby,” he told you, reaching up to pat your hands that were already on top of his head. “Honestly, I like listening to you talk about all this stuff more than I ever liked the classes themselves.” After a beat, he absentmindedly added, “I would kind of pick them half-hoping you had signed up for the class, too.”
You tilted your head curiously. “Really?”
“It was more like a little daydream that I had. That I’d walk in on the first day of class and you’d be sitting there and recognize me and smile at me and ask if I wanted to sit with you. Then, you know, we’d swap notes, be study buddies, and I would finally get the courage to ask you out,” Sungchan sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your thigh in an almost nostalgic and bittersweet way.
“Channie…”
“That was really embarrassing to admit. I thought I was going to die without telling anybody that, especially you,” he mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he turned his head to fully bury his face in your lap.
“You are a bit tipsy, baby,” you reminded him gently, stroking the back of his head.
He turned onto his back to fully look up at you, taking a slow blink before adding emphatically, “And I just love you so much.”
You grabbed him by the sides of the face to look him in the eye very seriously, but couldn’t hold it for very long, tender smile coming back to your features almost immediately.
“I love you too,” you affirmed, and he was once again beaming, grabbing your hand to presumably kiss your knuckles, but he missed a bit and kissed the back of your wrist instead. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course! Anything for my girl.”
“Your girl wants to know…” You said your words slowly and enunciated to make sure he understood. “On the first day of Dr. Son’s class, do you remember how you felt about me then?”
Specifically, you were thinking about the second game of the season, when you’d learned about Hendery and Chenle’s bet from freshman year. Hendery swore he could tell Sungchan had a crush on you from the first day of Dr. Son’s class, but you had your doubts. Mostly because you yourself couldn’t even remember looking at Sungchan on the first day of class, much less even talking or, God forbid, flirting with him—literally anything that would warrant him apparently outwardly crushing on you.
His face immediately scrunched up. “Mmm…”
“It’s okay baby, I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve had a bit to drink—”
“No, I remember, I remember. I’m just afraid you’re going to think I’m a creep…”
“More of a creep than signing up for classes in my major hoping I was going to be in them?”
“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize, his features immediately turning distraught as he half-sat up in his haste to say sorry.
“Shh, shh, my Sungchannie, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you quieted him, squeezing his hand that he was still holding and stroking his forehead, encouraging him to lay down again. “I was just teasing you, I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I think it’s cute, I promise.”
“You think I’m cute?” He asked with a heavy pout.
“Baby boy, I’m in love with you. Of course I think you’re cute.”
The corners of his mouth pulled back into a small smile. “Yay…”
“So? Will you please tell me?”
“M’kay…” He huffed and readjusted again, this time to rest some of his weight on his shoulder as his head was still pillowed in your lap. “I remember everything about that first class, you know? The room number, where we were all sitting, the Phantasma Phour…”
“Really?”
“Third flour, 3104.”
“I thought Gothic Lit was on the second floor?”
“It was on the third floor only for the first week then it got moved to the second floor for the rest of the semester.”
“Huh. Good memory.”
“I remember because the third floor of the Lang building is always super hot, but I didn’t know that because it was our first day. I wore my new hoodie from the team because I was so proud to be on the team, but I didn’t have another shirt on under it because I heard the Science building was always cold from some other Bio majors, so I thought I wasn’t going to have to take it off. So when we were in Dr. Son’s class that first day, I couldn’t take the hoodie off, even though it was like a billion degrees in that room…”
“Oh, oh no, Channie.” You attempted to coo sympathetically through your chuckles.
Sungchan sighed, pulling your hand back to his hair. “Anyway, Dr. Son had us in that Socratic circle, remember?”
“Yep, I remember.” You nodded, obliging to his whims easily and playing with his hair again.
“I was right next to the door, because I just wanted to get in and out of there. Hendery ran in a couple minutes late, and he ended up next to me. You and Chenle sat together at the front, a few seats away from Dr. Son’s desk, right next to the window. I just remember thinking that you were really pretty, with the window kind of giving you this little halo of light.”
“Baby, how is that creepy?” You chuckled. “You thought I was pretty.”
“You don’t remember what happened in the rest of that first class, do you?”
“What? What happened?”
“Dr. Son had us do an icebreaker with a partner…” He trailed off leadingly.
“Channie, I’ve taken so many of Dr. Son’s classes at this point, I can’t even remember who I was paired up with for that one,” you tried to reassure him.
“It was me.”
“Oh.”
“So not only was I a sweaty mess in that hoodie, but I had to be a sweaty mess while talking to this really pretty girl.”
“Channie…” You looked down at him, guilty for not remembering this at all. Though maybe it was for the better if he was apparently such a mess? Maybe that would soothe his distress over “embarrassing” himself in front of you.
“I thought Dr. Son was going to have us ask the normal stuff, name, major, year, you know. But it was Dr. Son, so of course it wasn’t normal.”
“Of course.”
“He made us ask all that, and made us ask each other something we were afraid of, and something we wanted. It wasn’t going to be shared with the class, just with our partner. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, pretty girl that I knew nothing about other than your name, that you were a freshman, and a Lit major. I really wanted to impress you, but I couldn’t come up with anything super deep. Do you know what I said?”
“No…” You confessed, tone already apologetic as you held his gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby, I don’t remember any of this.”
“S’okay…” He yawned again. “I said the truth. I was afraid of not being as good at hockey as I thought I was, and that I wanted to be team captain one day.”
“Those were good answers. It was the truth, not some philosophical lie. And look at you now, baby boy,” you told him strongly, patting his chest before going back to stroking his head.
“Mm… Back then you just kind of had this look on your face that wasn’t really dislike or even boredom or anything but just sort of like… that was exactly what you were expecting me to say. I felt like I’d just put myself into the dumb, self-centered, sports-obsessed jock archetype in your mind and I’d never be able to get out. Because then you answered and I wanted to smack myself for giving such stupid answers and wearing that stupid hoodie.”
“What did I say?”
“You were afraid of what the outcome of your brain MRI was going to be. And you wanted to hurt less.”
Your jaw dropped in mortification. “Oh my god… Sungchan, I’m so sorry I just dumped all that on you literally the first time we met. I…I had a lot going on then, with my migraines. I had just started seeing my neuro like a month before classes started, she ordered the MRI as a just in case thing, but it still made me so freaked. My appointment to go over the results was after my classes that day, I literally couldn’t think about anything else. All I remember about the first day of freshman year is that appointment, getting the clean results. Holy shit, don’t tell me I dropped that on you and left you hanging about whether or not I was fine?”
“When I saw you on Wednesday actually laughing and smiling with Chenle, I was hopeful. I didn’t want to ask you in case it wasn’t good, though, and you were just trying to distract yourself or something. So I caught up to Chenle after class a while later and asked him. After Dr. Son started the Phantasma Phour stuff. He didn’t tell me about your migraines, just said that the results were clean.”
“Ah, Channie… None of that was creepy.” You promised sweetly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“This is the creepy part…” He mumbled, gaze turning downwards. “Jeno saw me when I was talking to Chenle and invited me to the Nu Chi Halloween party that year, Chenle too. And Chenle brought you, and you got a migraine.”
“I didn’t realize you were there too. Did you see me screaming my head off?”
“No. I was trying to keep Jeno distracted.”
“Jeno?” You echoed, confused.
“Jeno said in the locker room…” Another yawn. He rubbed his eye. “He said he invited Chenle because he knew Chenle was going to bring you, and he wanted to sleep with you. But he didn’t think you would’ve come if he had invited you himself.”
You pursed your lips thoughtfully at this new revelation. “Huh…”
“I was keeping Jeno distracted with beer pong and stuff, but he finally slipped away, I guess at the same time you got your migraine. When he told me the next day that he was giving up on fucking you because you’d punched him in the face and he ‘knew better than to stick his dick in crazy,’ I thought you decked him for coming onto you and just admired you even more.”
“Not quite,” you laughed, remembering the bloody nose he’d nursed all night in the same room that you were nursing your migraine and Chenle sobered up. “But this story does add a whole new layer to my friendship with Jeno… Does Chenle know about this?”
“I don’t think so. Or Jeno would have gotten his nose broken again, right?”
“Probably.”
“Are you mad?”
“What would I be mad about? You having a crush on me? Our mutual friend wanting to fuck me one time three years ago?” You snorted, cupping his cheeks to get him to roll over and look at you again. “Baby, the only person I could possibly be upset with here is myself for not even giving you a second look in that class three years ago. Because then I could’ve had my Sungchannie this whole time.”
“Noooo…” He whined, shaking his head zealously. “I should’ve actually done something instead of just pining like a loserboy.”
“But you’re my loserboy now.”
His eyes widened. “You think I’m a loser?”
“Of course. My prettiest, cutest, sweetest, loveliest—” you punctuated each adjective with a kiss to his nose “—loserboy that I love so much.”
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” You smiled down at him. “Now, I think that’s plenty of tipsy confessions for one night. It’s time for you to sleep, my Sungchannie.”
As you started readjusting to lay down next to him on the mattress, he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest like a teddy bear.
“You didn’t want to, right?” His voice was right under your ear.
“What?”
“Sleep with Jeno?”
You lowered your voice conspiratorially, “I’m going to tell you a secret: I couldn’t tell any of the Nu Chi guys apart for the longest time. Didn’t even know Jeno’s name until I broke his nose. To me, they were all just gross frat guys who probably didn’t know how to wash their dicks.”
“Should’ve kept it that way,” he grumbled, holding you even tighter.
“Oh? You want me to unlearn all of our friends and acquaintances names?” You teased, wrapping one of your arms around him too.
“Can you?” He asked hopefully.
“Not quite how it works, I’m afraid,” you clicked your tongue. At his tipsy whines starting back up again, you hushed him once more, “Shh, it’s okay. I might know all their names, but none of them get to be baby boy.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He agreed, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.
“You need anything else from your girl? Or will you finally let her sleep?”
“Kiss?”
“Of course.”
Tilting your head up, you pressed your lips to Sungchan’s. He hummed contentedly against your mouth, unhurried in his motions as he met your every move. You sleepily kissed him, entirely unaware of time, but finally pulling back when your lids were getting too heavy to properly open back up. Blindly giving one more kiss to the corner of his mouth—it felt more like the side of his bottom lip, honestly—you settled your head back on his chest.
“There you go, Channie.” You yawned, pushing your face further into him. “Goodnight… I love you.”
“Goodnight, baby,” he was mumbling too, presumably also on the brink of falling asleep. “Love… you…”
vi. whilst i make space for all the parts of me that i do not want, i let them be, as minds twist through the fractured expanse of our being
“Okay, thank you,” you forced a casual nod to your doctor as she entered in a few more things on her computer.
“The ladies up front will schedule everything when you check out,” she offered you a kind smile. “Do you have any more questions for me today, Y/N?”
“No, no, just uh… need to get everything scheduled, you know.”
“Alright, well it was good to see you as always,” she stood up, leading you towards the door of the exam room. “And I’ll see you again soon. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
You went through the motions of checking out and scheduling, adding the next appointments to your phone calendar with the receptionist at the front desk, then shuffled out to the parking lot. Your mind was still reeling as you got into the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car.
“Hey, how’d it go?” He turned in his seat to ask you. It was just one of your normal check-ups with your neurologist today, and with the hockey season over, Sungchan had the time to take you to and from the appointment, promising to take you out for dinner after. You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.
Your gaze was locked on the dashboard in front of you. Your jaw clenched as you tried to battle back the tears that threatened to well up and just answer him.
“They’re getting worse again. Increase in- in frequency and severity,” you finally choked out. “My neuro wants to get a blood panel and brain MRI done again. She says we probably just need to adjust my meds again but—”
“A brain MRI?” Sungchan echoed in disbelief.
“Make sure there’s nothing in there that’s not supposed to be in there. It’s always clean, but every single time, the what if… it’s scary,” you admitted, your voice getting smaller as the tears finally came, spilling over onto your cheeks and down into your lap.
“Oh… oh baby,” his voice softened as he reached over to take your hand.
“And even if everything, all of that fucking shit is clean. It just means that my stupid fucking meds have stopped working and my stupid fucking body isn’t working like it’s supposed to and I have to do it all over again. Trying out more medications that’ll do God fucking knows what to me until we find the new perfect concoction that keeps me a semi-functioning person. God dammit!” You spat out, slamming your other hand down in a fist against the dash. “Ow, fuck, that hurt. God, fucking stupid…”
Sungchan grabbed both your hands with one of his, keeping them in your lap as he wiped at your tears with his free hand. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “That you got me and that I’m—”
“Stop it,” he cut you off sternly, with the harshest tone he’d ever taken with you. “Don’t you dare start apologizing for this. I wouldn’t let anybody else talk about you like that around me, and you’re not going to either.”
“God, yeah, okay,” you nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, Channie.”
“When is it? The MRI?”
“I-I have it in my calendar somewhere.”
“I’ll go with you,” he promised, cradling your chin in his palm to get you to look at him. “Whenever it is, I’ll go with you. And when you go get the results, okay? Car, waiting room, exam room, wherever you want me, alright? But you won’t be alone.”
You bit your bottom lip, squeezing his hand tight with both of yours. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”
He leaned across the center console to press a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for my girl.”
➠ next | 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: 27jsc#s: buzzer beater#writing#text#mine#bias tag#*100#*200#*300#*400#*500
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look at me
pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst(?), college!au warning(s): none word count: 1.2k
summary: you’ve been noticing that jeonghan never fails to maintain eye contact with everyone he converses with. everyone but you, that is.
In your past year of interacting with and being around a certain Yoon Jeonghan from Mass Communications, you’ve noticed that he loves eye contact.
He maintains intense eye contact in every conversation, one that would definitely render you speechless had you been the receiver of his undivided attention.
Which is why this whole… thing has increasingly become evidence of Yoon Jeonghan’s possible dislike towards you.
From what you’ve noticed, Jeonghan holds eye contact with everyone he’s speaking with, but not you.
You’ve tried asking his best friend, Jisoo, if he’d experienced something similar and whether it was normal, to which he’d just let out an awkward laugh and told you to “Go ask him yourself”, much to your dismay.
But then again, you’re probably overthinking. Right?
“What are you thinking about?”
As if on cue, Wonwoo shows up at just the right time to ground you before you start spiraling down a rabbit hole of self-doubt.
“You know what I’m thinking about,” you sigh, sending Wonwoo a tight-lipped smile.
“Jeonghan again, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles, eyes trailing after the man of the hour from across the bar, having the time of his life with his two best friends in tow. Beside you, Soonyoung nearly spits out his drink at whatever had just come out of Wonwoo’s mouth.
“Yoon Jeonghan? y/n, you like—”
“Soonie, no!” you lightly hit Soonyoung on his forearm, and he dramatically winces in pain like you’d just delivered a killing blow to his arm, “I just… think he doesn’t like me.”
“What? Why? He’s—”
“It’s stupid,” you cut Soonyoung off before he can complete his sentence. Soonyoung simply stares at you, and you sigh.
“Well, um, you know how he always maintains eye contact with whoever he’s speaking?” Soonyoung raises an inquisitive eyebrow, but nods anyway, prompting you to continue, “I’ve been realising recently that he just doesn’t seem to want to look at me every time we talk.”
An eerie silence engulfs the three of you, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Soonyoung’s head, making you all the more insecure.
“Let me get this straight,” Soonyoung speaks up after what feels like a long while, holding back laughter, “You think that loverboy over there doesn’t like you because he refuses to make eye contact with you?”
“I told you it was stupid!” you groan, resting your head on your hands, “Wonwoo, help me here!”
“Well, it is pretty stupid,” Wonwoo shrugs, patting your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“He doesn’t hate you, y/n,” Soonyoung pipes up, practically exploding from where he’s seated. “It’s quite the opposite, really-”
“What’s quite the opposite?” you remove your head from your hands to be greeted with the sight of Seungcheol coming up to stand in front of the three of you, Jeonghan and Jisoo in tow.
“Hyung! My man,” Soonyoung raises his voice in excitement, and you wince a little at the sheer volume as they both greet each other with a hug.
As usual, Jeonghan’s eyes are trained on anything but you, and you can’t help but notice that he’s being a little more fidgety than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet and playing with his fingers all while Seungcheol and Soonyoung are quite literally acting like nobody else is around them watching their interaction.
“Anyway, we’re here because Jeonghan… has something to say to y/n,” Seungcheol turns to us and explains with a teasing lilt in his voice, and Jeonghan’s cheeks darken ever so slightly under the dim lighting of the club.
“He does? That’s literally such a coincidence, we were just talk—”
“Let’s go, Soonyoung, I just saw Jihoon over there,” Wonwoo cups a hand over Soonyoung’s mouth before he can complete his sentence, practically dragging him away from the conversation.
Seungcheol and Jisoo, too, bid their awkward goodbyes, each lightly punching Jeonghan on his shoulder before leaving the two of you behind. Alone.
For awhile, the two of you simply stand there in silence, and you can only hope and pray for the ground to swallow you whole.
“Um—”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Jeonghan cuts you off as you speak, and your eyes widen a little at his cold tone.
“Oh, I—” you shrink into yourself, willing yourself to stay calm.
“No! Wait, I meant—” Jeonghan leans forward, taking a deep breath, “Seungcheol and Jisoo put me up for this for no reason.”
“So it’s a joke?” you scoff, raising an incredulous eyebrow at Jeonghan as the embers of rage grow inside of you.
“No! I—” Jeonghan’s eyes widen, immediately shaking his head to refute before you cut him off.
“Do you hate me, Jeonghan?”
“What? No, I- I don’t hate you, y/n,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know, you refuse to look at me every time we talk, and now you’re- you’re doing this and making me confused and- I don’t know what to think, Jeonghan.” you bite back, growing more and more annoyed by the second
“Look, I-” Jeonghan pauses, seemingly trying to gather the right words, “I don’t hate you, y/n. I could never.”
You open your mouth to reply, but Jeonghan holds a hand up, continuing, “I’m just— I usually know what to do, okay? Usually, it’d be the other way around, and you’d be the one as flustered as I am right now, but you’re- you’re different. I’ve… had a crush on you ever since we met through Wonwoo and I just… couldn’t hold a conversation with you long enough without chickening out and just ended up trying as much as possible not to interact with or look at you so I don’t make a fool of myself and I guess… you saw it as me hating you and no, that’s not true, it’s far from it even, I—”
Jeonghan is cut off as you lean forward to press the tiniest of kisses on his lips to shut him up, and his eyes widen in response.
“I like you too, Jeonghan,” you flash him the softest of smiles, and he just looks right back at you blankly, still trying to process what had just happened, much to your endearment.
“You… do?” you nod. “But… I was so horrible to you.”
“You didn’t mean it, did you?” you reply, and Jeonghan shakes his head immediately. “I didn’t, but—”
“Well, then, you could make up for it by taking me on a date,” you cut him off, surprising both him and yourself at your boldness. Jeonghan flashes the cutest shade of red, before nodding determinedly.
“We should get back to the boys,” wrapping your arms around Jeonghan, you start leading him towards where the boys have gathered from across the club, filled with newfound hope for your blossoming relationship with Jeonghan, “They haven’t stopped looking at us since they left.”
BONUS:
“And then he told me to— Hannie, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” Jeonghan simply chuckles from beside you as you pause your rambling, furrowing your brows at him.
“You’re staring. What happened to refusing to look at me, hm?” you lean towards him, taunting.
“Well, that made you think I hated you, so I’ve gotta ramp up the eye contact to make sure you know how much I love you, babe.” Jeonghan leans forward too, resting his forehead on yours.
“You’re so cheesy,” you lightly punch his chest, giggling.
“Only for you, babe.”
a/n: hi i’m back! i hope this was okay, i struggled with jeonghan’s characterisation but i thought a flustered him would be cute ><
taglist: @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli
masterlist
#kflixnet#k-labels#caratsland#ICY WRITES#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen imagine#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt imagine#jeonghan#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan imagines#yoon jeonghan#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan fluff
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Use me as a cushion
Hello!
I received some requests for fictions with other people than Ona, so here I am trying with Alexia!
It's fluff, literally pure fluff.
I hope you will like it! As always, the reviews are much appreciated :)
_____________________________________________________________
The situation of the Spanish women’s football team was no longer to be explained. After the forced departures of Vilda and the president of the Federation, the fight was far from over. While you naively thought you were going to have a break, you were all summoned to the national team despite the various statements you made.
Like all the others players of the team, you were forced to show up, participate in a few mediation sessions while following the usual training. You were exausted, all of you.
But you know that your girlfriend is even more than you are.
Alexia, as captain of the team, participated in many more discussions than all of you put together. In addition to everything else, she's the team’s anchor for everyone. The one you can rely on, the one you can count on. And it was true, she takes that role to perfection. Like everything she does, in your opinion (not quite impartial tho).
But over the days, you saw her fatigue increase and her condition deteriorate a little more. You told Ona about it, knowing that your girlfriend trusted her completely and that she wasn’t the type to talk further. You were scared for her, scared that she hurt herself on training because of the level of her tiredness.
Ona advised you to continue doing what you knew how to do best with Alexia, to be there for her and take care of her. Even if you don’t feel like it’s a big deal, you naturally planned a small schedule for Alexia tonight.
So here you are, waiting for you girlfriend to come back from an other discussion with some thinking heads of the Federation. You hate them, all of them.
Your game against Switzerland is in two days and you already are in Sevilla. Even if you're together since like a year, you weren't always set up in the same room. Luckily, Alexia found herself alone in her room, allowing you to join her there without disturbing anyone.
Even if it means you two end up in a single bed. You don't mind tho, having a good reason to sleep on the top of your girlfriend all night long.
Lying on Alexia’s bed, you look again at the time on the screen of your phone while continuing to play the mobile game you downloaded. Sighing, you roll sideways, allowing yourself to smell Alexia’s shampoo on her pillow. It's almost 23:00 and still not any sign fo Alexia. Chewing your lips, you hesitate to send her a message but then you heard the door open quietly.
You sit up immediatly, startled Alexia.
"Madre mia" she huffs with her hand on her heart. "What are you doing here? You should be sleeping"
She frowns while gently scolding you, but you make your way to her to hug her. You smile while she melt in your arms, caressing her back tenderly with your fingertips. Alexia is strong, everybody can see that. Everybody know that. But knowing that she trusts you enough to let it go with you is in your eyes the greatest proof of love she can give you.
"I can't sleep without my goodnight kiss" you point.
She smiles and kiss you softly, but you don't leave anyway. Like you said, you have plans for her.
"Did you eat?" you ask her as she takes off her shoes, dropping them to the ground with a thud.
"Not really" she sights "but it's to late anyway"
You roll your eyes before turning on the table behind you. You ordered a meal an hour ago and asked them to find you something to keep it warm. You were pretty sure that she will come back to late to ask the kitchen to make her something.
"What is it?" she asks, approaching the table with curiosity.
Her face lit up when she lifts the lid and you can’t help but smile back. You promised yourself, if Alexia is everyone’s crutch, you’ll be hers.
"Tortilla de patatas" she smiles.
"Con tomato, as you like. Not sure if it will be as good as your Mama's tho"
You shrugs but Alexia made her way towards you to take you in her arms. The hug was longer than before and you play with her hair for a while.
"Thank you" she whispers in your neck before moving back a few centimeters. "But you really should have sleeping"
You roll your eyes once again, before you made her a little smirk.
"If you insist I can go back sleeping with Claudia"
You were teasing, Alexia knew it. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with her.
"Not funny" she pouts anyway.
You smile again and point to the plate that has still not been touched.
"Why don't you eat while I run you a bath?"
Alexia seems to think a few moments, hesitating between going to eat or spending some time with you. It’s hard to have moments just for you these last few days.
"With bubbles?"
"With bubbles" you answer, laughing at her baby voice.
Letting her eat, you went to the bathroom and do what you said. Waiting for the tub to be full, you get lost in your thoughts for longs minutes, contemplating the foam mix with the hot water. You were pretty tired yourself, but Alexia goes first. You need to take care of her.
You don’t hear her coming into the room though, making you jump slightly when she passes her arms around your waist. You let her lean into your neck, shivering when you feel her smell you.
"How can I thank you enought Amor?"
You turn around in her arms and put your hands around your neck.
"Your love is more than I can wish for"
The kiss she gives you this time is breathtaking. It's like you can feel the love and the recognition she feels for your actions. When the kiss ends, both of you looking for air, she strokes your nose with hers.
"Come with me?"
"Nah, tonight it's all about you"
She pouts again and you bite your lips. She knows that you can't resist her when she does this. And you know that she knows. And she knows that you know that she knows.
"Come on! If it's for me you can be my personnal cushion?"
You laugh at her antics and just give up. Who could deny this to the love of his life?
"Ok, but only because you will use me as a cushion."
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Scary Wife Privileges Tokyo Revengers
Featuring: Chifuyu Matsuno, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba
You were getting tired of it, hearing Chifuyu complain about Takemichi and how the man runs things. "He'll come back, I know he will, but it's just aggravating right now."
When he talked about his boss he made little sense. You never understood his ramblings about "any day now." and "It's been twelve years." Some days it was too much and you started an argument with Chifuyu, an argument where he constantly refused to tell you anything about what he meant. It was pissing you off. Majorly. You wanted Chifuyu to be happy, but when he came home exhausted and angry every night, you didn't feel that he was happy.
His friends greeted you as you walked through the big building, smiles and waves from both sides as you walked to your husband's office. Chifuyu had been in a particularly bad mood the whole week and you hadn't made it any better by causing fights when he came home. Remorse was one of the many emotions you were feeling, topped with a cute little bow to compound everything and stamp it in like concrete.
"Fuyu," You spoke softly, a way you hadn't spoken to him in months, "do you have time?"
It was in his eyes, the fact that something had already happened was painted into the dark circles under his lashes. It made your heart lurch as he smiled sadly at you. "Always have time for you, baby." Chifuyu held a hand out to pull you in as you approached, "As long as you didn't come here to fight, in that case, I'm in a meeting." His half hearted joke made you sigh, "Already, today?"
His chest heaved with a sigh, "Trashed his own office. Don't worry, he wasn't mad at me this time."
There was no time for a response as the very man exploded into your husband's office behind you. He was on edge, clearly, but you didn't care about what he had to say. Months of anger from seeing your husband drink until he fell asleep with his face buried in your chest just poured out.
"Shut up. No one cares about whatever bullshit you're about to spout. Is this how you treat all of your workers?" You snapped, hands on your hips as you chastised him, "You're the exact definition of an asshole and so help you if my husband comes home angry again."
Takemichi looked caught off guard, a stark contrast to the man you'd not only met at your wedding, but the man in the stories Chifuyu brought home. He stumbled over his words, but you continued to chew into him as Chifuyu hugged around your waist and smiled into your shirt.
Mitsuya was used to the nitpicking his clients did, often smiling and agreeing, even if he didn't. He wasn't the type to retaliate because of a bad mood, especially since it was going to be something the other person wore and he would never have to look at it again.
And yet he kept having to send you silent glares and pointed looks to keep you from speaking up as you watched him work.
"And maybe if there was more detail in the train-"
"Do you know how long he's spent on this ugly garbage?" You spoke clearly, your nose in a book so you couldn't see Mitsuya glaring at you, "All the detail on the sleeves took two months anyways. And that's not including the beading along the end. Can't you appreciate that?"
The client stared at you, open mouthed and shocked. But you kept on, "To ask for more detail when he's already fixing the fabric to your measurements is... Stupid."
Mitsuya sighed, "Apologies for her."
"Don't apologize for me." When did you get off the couch? "How about you let him finish this piece so he can come home to his family at a decent time, yeah? His daughters are tired of going to sleep without Daddy tucking them in."
The club was loud. Too loud. You cursed under your breath at your husband for bringing you along with him. It wasn't your vibe, the whores and half naked bartenders that walked around while rich, old men played card games. Your dress, the one Hakkai told you to wear so you would fit in while still being modest, was swaying around and scratching at your ankles. People were staring at you as you walked through with your heels in hand. It wasn't your fault, the shoes were hurting your feet and Hakkai had disappeared almost an hour ago. You would've already headed home if you knew Hakkai wouldn't throw a fit.
"Black Dragon trash." You hissed under your breath when you finally saw him. He was laughing with his guys, seemingly ignoring the woman massaging his shoulders. Hakkai zoned in on your hips as you straddled his lap, your chest pressing into his face as you got in the woman's face, "Hands off, unless you want to give hand jobs with stumps for the rest of your life."
The fear you instilled in the woman was attractive to Hakkai, and his men noticed as well. It wouldn't have been the first time you'd left them with raging hard ons, and Hakkai sent a glare at all of them.
"Go rub up on someone else's husband, or so help me god the only use that pretty little mouth will have is sucking food through a straw."
#anime#manga#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev#fanfiction#tokyo revengers x reader#Chifuyu matsuno#chifuyu matsuno x reader#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya takashi x reader#hakkai shiba#hakkai shiba x reader#tokyo rev x reader
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life after his enlistment.
pairing: yoongi x reader
synopsis: how life/the relationship was like after he enlisted.
genre: fluff, established relationship, yoongi enlisted, they are trying their best, idk if I should call it angst or hurt/comfort, but there's some kind of ✨️melancholy✨️ in this (predictable much), I effing miss him sm more now :(.
warnings: t.w: if u are just like me, prepare to be missing yoongi sickeningly after this. gosh, it feels like a hole in a chest rn. idk what to do w myself. oh btw some ideas mentioned here are purely my own opinions, so it doesn't have to be "facts" or "all true." if u have different opinions or if u disagree with any it u can reach out to me about them, I would like that, but that's that, enjoy!!!!!!!!!
A/N: this was a request made by @kimvante2013 I hope it meets ur expectations! this was so fun to write, I liked this a lot. feel free to send more reqs or anything u want :)
PS. English is not my first language, so you know the drill.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
the problem wasn't that you couldn't see him, no.
since his duty was different from that of an ordinary individual, you both were able to spend the nights in each other's arms.
when he comes back home after duty, sometimes he's met with an empty house where he'd wash up and start preparing something for you to enjoy munching on once you get back home at a later hour of the day. other times, he comes to a busy, warm house. you blasting your favorite drama on the TV while doing the laundry in the middle of the living room, or just chilling and waiting to welcome him with mellow hugs and kisses.
and when he's on duty, he can't always contact you, but he whispered kisses laced with promises into your lips before leaving on his first day, and he would never dare to break them. not that he wants to anyway.
sometimes you'd wake up to post-it notes sticked on random surfaces and items around the house, or good morning messages of love and kisses. sometimes he calls during lunch breaks to check up on you, reminding you to drink water and eat well because that's yoongi's most precious habit of showing that he always just cares.
"don't forget to layer your outfit today, I just saw that it's gonna be awfully cold."
"did you like the bouquet I sent? want more? cook me ___ tonight xx"
"hi, don't forget to drink a cup of water right this instance or you'll shrivel up and die."
"it snowed on my way here this morning, let's go out this weekend and have some fun :]"
when days are too hard to handle, weighing one of you—maybe even both of you at the same time, cause life is a bitch like that—down and burying you under the ground, you'd send long voice messages to the other. never expecting an immediate reply. just simply pressing record and spilling all the bottled negative energy that clogged your brains and chests.
so, the problem wasn't really that you couldn't see or talk to him..
the problem was that neither of you were used to any of that.
you weren't used to being away from each other for long hours throughout the day (even though he often went on tours and job events aboard), or not being able to talk and/or see him whenever you wanted to—atleast whenever your shift agreed to let you. you're stuck on this routine for months. you were so not used to that.
over the years, you and yoongi grew to become a pen and a paper: two different items that are meant to only function and be paired together. one can't be capable without the other.
yet you try to avail yourselves of the situation and take it all easy. slowly, like waking up and leaving a warm, comfy bed at 5 in the morning to gain some purpose somewhere out there.
so, while staying away from one another for several hours a day comes with heavy challenges and even melancholy at times, that doesn't mean it can't be fruitful for your relationship.
since for it to grow healthier, a couple, intentionally or not, sometimes needs to take some "time off" to preserve the connection and intimacy between them.
you always remind yoongi of how much you had missed him during the day, which is something that never failed to put a smile on his face and trigger a stream of butterflies in his stomach.
love and yearning are two inseparable powerful emotions that one can't defeat, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. that's the beauty of the challenge your relationship was subject to at this new stage.
"I am still me, you are still you. everything's gonna be alright." yoongi would say as he hugs your face into his chest.
he always reminds you that this new chapter the two of you have entered together, hand in hand and with shaking hearts, is one that he'd been dreading but looking forward to for a very long time.
a chapter that made him understand how much he needs your existence in his life. to be himself and to be the somebody you need and deserve.
and he makes sure to translate that into your skin as he traces it with his lips and fingertips when you finally fall into each other's embrace.
#yoongi#bts#yoongi scenarios#yoongi drabble#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#bts scenarios#agustd#yoongi angst#min yoongi#bts imagines#bts fic#bts army#bts yoongi#bts enlistment
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OOOO OGMVOVM SO IDEA:
YANDERE CLASS 1-A IS LIKE SO OBSESSED WITH READER BUT SHE HATES THEM ALL AND AVOIDS THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY DO ABT THIS?
You hated them... you hated them all they were just too overbearing! The flirting thr kissing the unwanted touching everything and whenever you told them to fuck off they'll just coo and baby you saying "thats very mean! Darling! "
They kept always crowded around you it's no surprise there Iida always insisted on study dates every chance you could get your mom would always pressure you to join her private tea party and insist it would be just the two of us the way she said it creeper you out so you would always make excuses or just awkwardly walk away leaving her confused and a bit pissed. Denki is always on your ass whether it be teasing or playing around he kept clinging to you like some puppy it was Cringe honestly...
Izuku yapping about heroes even if you weren't listening, Kirishima and Shoji trying to show off by flexing their muscles, Mina or Hakagure always gripping your arm too tight or hugging you until you couldn't breathe and you had to hit them harshly on the back and they dared to complain about it Aoyama guy always trying to stuff your face with cheese even tho the smell of cheese makes you nauseous, ochako was ok untill she started making me go bake with her and suprise suprise! Momo joins her and it always turn into some competition about anything which takes the fun out of baking
You couldn't even talk to your other friend in PEACE shinsou was your go-to friend ever since your classmates started being overbearing you would rant for hours about them and he'd listen heck he let you chill in his dorms for a while or longer you couldn't be asked for a better friend, but back to the story you were just peacefully talking to shiso at lunch until bakugo and his petty little gang came over there everyone smiling at me expect bakugo ofc just glaring at me like I did something wrong, "is.. there a problem?"
"You damn right it's a problem! Your sitting with hyno shit over there!" He said pointing at Shinso "Bakubro that's not very manly!" He said in a stern tone but you had a feeling he wasn't scolding him, "what everyone's trying to say come sit with us y/n you don't have to be alone!" Mina said in a fake sickly sweet voice I swore I saw her eye twitch a bit but you didn't back down easily "im not alone tho I got shinso and I'm fine where I'm at you can eat your lunch and have fun without me" the squad got silence and awkwardly walked away but sending one final glare at shiso
Another time when you were talking with Kendo and Monoma at 2nd you kinda disliked Monoma or thought he was some crazy lunatic just because he kept ripping on your classmates but the 2 of you weirdly got along mostly because of your distasteful experience with your classmates, if the two of you weren't ranting about how your classmates were, the two of you would talk about hero stuff (mostly monoma bragging about being the best hero) or just talking about your interests and laughing at Monoma's antics and chaoticness
Kendo on the other hand made you feel like you had a friend she knows how overbearing and overwhelming your classmates get, so she would try to pull you away as best as she could despite the glares, snarls, and scowls she swore she heard from them she still wanted to help you one day you were dragged by hakagure and Mina to go to their room to play games but Kendo quickly grabbed the back of your shirt with paint hands to pulled you away "sorry gotta borrow them for a sec!" And quickly ran off
"Thx kendo I was about to snap at them and cause a scene" She smiled at you "No problem! I felt you were uncomfortable and had to do something ugh those classmates never leave you alone huh?" You chuckled your so grateful to have a friend like Kendo "anyways let's hurry and go to this "awesome" place monoma keep spamming my phone about" you playfully rolled you eyes and walked with Kendo
Meanwhile your classmates glared at the window Cleary pissed off it "seems like those pest need a lesson.." izuku said voice laced with vemon
#yandere bnha#yandere ua#tw yandere#yandere x reader#tw obsessive behavior#yandere class 1a#yandere mha#bnha fluff#bnha angst#tw unhealthy obsession#tw unconusenal touch#tw gaslighting#overbearing#toxic behaviors#itsuka kendou#monoma neito
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𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝓒𝓛16
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.
playlist:
♫ gorgeous
♪ delicate
♬ i think he knows
♡ you are in love
author's note: Hello everyone! Please be patient as this will be my first fanfic/au. Anyway, this would be part of a series, and each song from the playlist above would be the title of a chapter. I still don't know what to call the series, so if you have any suggestions, please send them my way. Anyway, thanks for reading, and enjoy the story! ✧･ﾟ:૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა✧･ﾟ:
chapter warnings: a lot of swearing.
word count: 1.7k
disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬
01:58 ━━━━●───── 03:29
⇆ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻
ılıılıılıılıılıılı
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
Your car pulled up in front of the restaurant’s door. Your security guard got out of the shotgun seat and opened your car door. Everyone started to go crazy when they saw you. The lights of the paparazzi’s camera flicking every millisecond, trying to get a photo of every move you make. There’s security on your left and right, protecting you.
The door to the restaurant opened and there was a receptionist holding a clipboard.
"Y/F/N Y/L/N." You smile as you look at her. Their eyes widen and mouth gaped before gesturing for you to go follow the usher. You took an elevator and got off on the rooftop. You walked in and looked around, amazed at the beauty of the place. There were a lot of tables and booths, some afloat on water. There's a lot of people and caterers walking around with food and drinks.
Everyone is dressed in semi-formal attire which made you sigh in relief for your outfit. You are wearing a sparkly sleeveless jumpsuit that showed off your curves and just a bit of your skin.
As you made your way into the party, there were a lot of familiar faces. Celebrities, actors, athletes. You saw Kika and Pierre in a booth in the middle.
"Show me the ring!" You scream as soon as you see your best friend. She turns around and laughs at you.
"Well, hello to you too!" She giggles as the two of you hug. You pull away quickly to see her left hand. A big diamond rock sitting on her ring finger.
"Wow. You sure have taste, Gasly, I'll give you that." You smirked at Pierre and hugged him too.
"Congratulations, you guys! So, am I a bridesmaid?" You joke at Kika, fluttering your eyelashes. You have been best friends for 3 years now, having met at a Louis Vuitton fashion show during Paris Fashion Week. Since then, you and Kika were inseparable. You both understood and supported each other.
"Cut the crap. You know you're maid of honor." She says smirking.
"Oh my god! I love you so much!" You scream and wrap your arms around her. You’ve never been a maid of honor and somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory clicked. You remembered that you and Kika promised to be each other’s maid of honor.
The couple laughs at your reaction and Kika tells you she’ll set up a meeting soon about the wedding, she’s going to be needing help. You nod right away. The grooms are always no help when planning a wedding. Just then, a guy comes up from behind you and greets them.
"Speaking of, here's the best man!" Pierre walks closer to him and does that guy hug thing. The mysterious man was slightly taller than Pierre and was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt and some khaki shorts. He looked good.
"Charles!” Kika greeted. Charl? Is he French? It's the French that don't pronounce the "s" at the end of their names, right?
He kisses Kika's cheeks while he and Pierre talk a bit in French and laugh. You didn't realize you were staring until Kika introduced you to him.
"Y/N, this is Charles, he'll be Pierre's best man." Kika says and you turn to face him. He kind of has a boyish face but his piercing green eyes and stubble that ran from chin to jaw makes him look mature. He looked gorgeous.
"Hi, I’m Charles." He says while extending his hand. He looks into your eyes while talking to you and you almost melted. You shyly look at your hands and look back again at his eyes, to see that he didn’t remove his gaze. Those eyes. How wonderful it would be to get lost in them.
"I’m Y/N." You smile shyly. You were getting shy. You never get shy. You always had the upper hand and was very confident in yourself when meeting new people. But somehow, someway, you can’t say anything.
You take his hand and shake it. You felt like you were drugged when your hands met. It put you on a high, one you want to be in for the rest of your life.
“So happy to finally meet you. You know, they always talk about you and sing your songs, especially Pierre.” Charles says, to make small talk and show that he is friendly and approachable.
“Oh, does he know? He always says my songs are cheesy.” You say while smirking at Pierre, Kika laughing her ass off. “Although I do have a video of him dancing to You Belong With Me.”
Kika’s eyes widen immediately, and the couple looks at each other. Pierre’s face is red from embarrassment. He exclaims, “You told me you didn’t send her the video!”
While the two bickered, you didn’t notice Charles was now standing closer to you. “You know, I would love to have a copy of that video,” He whispers. He was so close that you could smell his perfume.
Before you could reply, Kika is shoo-ing the guys. “Anyway, me and Y/N are gonna do some girl talk now.”
“Look for me later if you want the video.” You whisper to Charles, and he smirks before leaving with Pierre. Charles turns around and winks at you. It caught you off guard, but you smiled. When he looks away and turns back around, you look at Kika and see she was on her phone. Oh my god. The greatest thing that has ever happened to you and your best friend was on her fucking phone.
Kika looks up on her phone and was about to talk to you when she gets dragged into another booth. She looks at you and mouths, “Later.” But you wave her off, you know you can’t hog the host of the party.
You roamed around the party talking to everyone but Charles. You caught up with Kika’s friends; some you met before, some you haven’t. You got along with the other bridesmaids which erased the worry from the back of your mind that you might not get along.
One group of girls were calling themselves “WAGS” and laughing. It seemed like an inside joke, so you whispered to Kika, “What the fuck is a WAG?” and she laughs.
“Wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.” Your face scrunched up in disgust and she nodded her head. “I know, right?”
Good thing Kika was there to tell you that the girls who were calling themselves WAGS are in a relationship with F1 drivers. Kelly and Max, Carmen and George, Heidi and Daniel, Sara and Lance, Lily and Alex, Louise and Kevin, and Egle and Nico.
Some of Pierre’s single friends did try to hit on you, though. But you brushed them off and established being friends with them when they tried to ask you out.
While talking to everyone, you forgot to count how many shots and drinks you’ve been taking. You realized that you were drunk when as you were going to the bathroom, you didn’t take time to adjust to the dimmed lighting and you missed a step and almost fell. Thankfully, a pair of arms came out of nowhere and caught you.
“Est-ce que ça va, mon amour?" Are you okay, love? Charles. You talked to everyone in this party, and this voice you only heard for five minutes but instantly recognize it. He picks you up and you both try to steady yourself.
“Oui, merci.” Yes, thank you. Based on the context of you falling, you assumed that he asked if you were alright. You giggled as you tried your hardest to copy his accent, even though you were flat out drunk.
You lost your balance again and Charles gently set you down to sit on one of the steps. One of his hands going to the small of your back, careful not to hit your back.
Once you were settled, he squats in front of you, a shocked look on his face. He asks, “Tu parles français?" You speak French?
With the dimmed lighting and how close your faces are, you can see just how perfect his face is. He looks like a god.
“What?” You gave up. Your knowledge of the French language only limited to “yes”, “thank you” and “I love you.”
“You understand?” His Monegasque French accent lingering when he talks in English. His grammar is fucking adorable.
“No, I just know a few phrases from travelling to France.” You smile sheepishly. Leaning your head on the wall, “Is it good, though?”
“Yes, yes. Your accent almost fooled me.” He smiles at you. Your stomach is feeling crazy. Is this what it feels like when they say they “have butterflies in their stomach?” Because this feels like a fucking zoo.
“So, I haven’t seen you all night. Have you been ignoring me?” He asks you. You can’t tell if he’s flirting or if it’s a genuine question.
“Hmmm, maybe?” You took a chance and flirted with him. Pretending like you were ignoring his eyes and then looking at him and laughing.
“Why? What did I do?” He pouts. I think he knows that he’s beautiful. Otherwise, he would not have any confidence in pouting in front of a girl, right?
“Hmm, didn’t I tell you to look for me? And not the other way around?” You reminded him.
“Ahh, yes. My apologies, cheri.” He apologizes. His metallic rings startling your warm skin as he takes your right hand and kisses it. You were shocked, eyes wide.
“Can you forgive me, mon amour?” He takes your left hand and kisses it too. With his puppy eyes, he leans closer, still holding both of your hands near his lips.
“I- I-” He looked so gorgeous; you couldn’t say anything. He caught you off guard and your tongue couldn’t form any word. Your brain having a hard time comprehending what was happening.
You nodded your head and he smiled at you. You knew that he was thinking that he had the upper hand, but right now, while he is holding your hands and his face so close to yours, you didn’t mind.
"Apology accepted, mon amour." You try to copy him. His eyes shine when he hears you talk in his mother tongue.
"I have to ask, do you really want Pierre's video, or do you just want my number?" You smirk at him. You try to catch him off guard but he chuckles and smirks back at you.
"Can't a man have both?"
...
↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#f1#formula 1#ferrari#charles leclerc imagine#f1 fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#pierre gasly#francisca kika gomes#gorgeous#taylor swift#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfiction#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 fanfiction#f1 fanfic#⋆｡°✩#crueisummer works
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Ok no I'm not done being weird yet, here's another idea for the marriage canon event stuff
Miguel and other Spiders are getting on your ass about, "oh, how old are you now? Why aren't you looking for a husband yet? Why are you spending so much time here?" And are, you know, your friends who love you and for your own good are trying to get you to complete your canon so you, you know, LIVE, but the way you see it is, being forced to do something like that and sacrifice yourself like that isn't living. You're not going to actively pursue and seek out a relationship, you want one to happen naturally, and nothing has felt natural to you and you're afraid of being hurt like that, of being rejected, of opening yourself up to someone and not being good enough, but, O'Hara and the Society don't really want to hear that. It's escalating over time. Little comments here and there, people randomly interjecting their personal anecdotes about their family and their kids into the conversation, "oh this is just like when me and Mary Jane--" "oh my kid loves this flavor, she gets so excited, I like to be naughty and get her these as a treat"
So you reach the point where you're fed up. This is so massively fucking inappropriate of them. There's no "set age" for this kind of thing so why are they harassing you like this, acting like, oh, you gotta hurry and pursue shit right now, it's for your own good? It's just pissing you off and pushing you away. You love traveling to different dimensions and exploring new places and experiencing things that are literally out of this world but if the trade-off for that is constantly being badgered with this stupid narrative of having to sacrifice yourself, you'll happily go home and break canon and die, because at least you'll be truly living and making a choice
So anyways to get to the meat of this post: you've decided you're leaving the Spider Society and you're not going to talk to any of these bitches anymore, just haven't fully decided on when, but like, you're literally thinking within the next week, but you're still, there. And one day you're in the lobby, trying to stand around because you're supposed to go on some sort of stupid assignment, Peter B and Jess with you, the parents talking about baby stuff as you roll your eyes and Peter suspiciously needs you to keep holding Mayday until you're literally refusing, "just put her on the ground or something, you let her climb on walls and shit anyways"
And because you're in the lobby, this big open space with tons of people passing through, suddenly in walks Miguel with. Another Miguel, completely unrelated to the mission you and the others are about to do, kind of just bumping into each other as they pass through. Miguel2 just got scouted by his counterpart that he met during chasing an anomaly, and they're getting to know each other, and at some point Miguel2 is like "can my wife come too 🥺👉👈 she's also a Spider and I can't be here without her" and everyone is a little confused because there's supposed to be the whole only 'one Spider per dimension' rule besides like family, like Peter and Mayday, and you'll just never guess whose alternate universe variant is his wife :) another you comes bounding in wearing casual baggy clothes but looks so radiant and happy, all "hubby 🥰" as she kisses her husband, you're just awkwardly sending glances to 'your' Miguel as you two are, understandably feeling awkward because, you're, coworkers, and here are two people who look exactly like you being all lovey dovey "princesa 🥰" "guapito 🥰"
This other you just seems so, VIBRANT and she's introducing herself and shaking hands and she sees Peter B, "oh my god you have a baby, I'm so happy for you, she's so cute!" And she's hugging him, and you watch Peter B's eyes go kind of wide and he looks down, "OH, you're like--" and Other You just kind of laughs and parts her coat, showing off her rounded tummy, "haha yeah, there's a baby in there! Number 3, we're so excited! 🥰" and you're just. Simultaneously feeling some sort of fucked up combination of the most visceral and extreme discomfort you've ever felt in your entire life and also some kind of. Envy. Because she has everything you thought you didn't want and she seems so, SO fucking happy, with a husband who loves her, she clearly loves her babies, and she's being accepted by all of your friends instantly, like they're all gathered around talking as you're just, basically on the outside of the circle, actively putting up distance, only standing around because, uh hey guys weren't we supposed to be doing something--
Your skin is crawling as Other You uses her own watch from her husband to zip back to her own dimension and comes back with her babies on each hip, twins that she's just so happy to introduce to her new friends, who are SUPPOSED to be YOUR friends, "THIS one is Gabriella, and this one is Gabriel. Aren't they so cute? 🥰 theyre both so chunky they almost killed me but it was SO worth it" And once she realizes you're you, or, you're her, she wants to immediately chat you up and be buddy-buddy and goes to hand one of her babies to you and you. Refuse. Absolutely refuse. Suddenly you're the pariah of the group, both Miguels are sending you looks. Why are you being so fucking rude? Just put your arms out??? But you won't. You're just, soul-suckingly disgusted by this entire scenario. Not only is it putting an unspoken pressure onto you, but, seeing this other you be so fucking happy AND accomplishing all the things your "friends" have been badgering you about makes you feel SO indescribably insecure
Fine. Let it be like a revolving door. Another you enters Spider Society, one of you leaves. But you're so bitter and hurt you can't help but get in a jab at her, wanting to tarnish her "fake" happiness, feeling so personally hurt and offended by her very presence and existence in the room. "Hey so wouldn't your babies also be Spiders and have to suffer through the canon events too? And since you don't have any other family members, your kids' canon events might be YOU or Miguel dying? Aren't you glad you gave birth to your kids only to die and leave them without a mom and dad and forever doom them to a narrative where they can never make their own choices and are cosmically destined to be unhappy just because YOU wanted a cute baby? Sorry I guess I'm just built different. Hey remember how when we were little girls and we used to feel like mom only gave birth to us because she wanted someone who would love her and we resented her for bringing us into the world to have such a harsh life, aren't you so happy that's EXACTLY how your kids are going to feel about YOU?"
Mom!You is instantly bursting into tears and holding her little belly for comfort as her husband looks ready to tear you to ribbons, FURIOUS, all the healthy people in the room understandably disappointed and upset with you, like what the FUCK girl, meanwhile you're opening up a portal to your home dimension and just chucking your watch straight into the floor. "Keep this. I won't be coming back" while everyone is kind of dismissive of how truly upset you are, kind of just like "come on, don't be like this 🙄" like you're throwing a tantrum when in actuality you're going home and are seriously considering selling Osborne or Doc Ock all of your radioactive eggs. You'll always be YOU before you're a Spider, and if they want to force you to put The Job above yourself your entire life, they're dead wrong.
Meanwhile after you leave, pulling each other aside for privacy, Miguel2 is asking your Miguel why he's risking breaking his own canon by not wife-ing you up yet and comparing notes from all of the other dimensions where you and him are together as your Miguel is shocked by the sheer number of same occurrences. Miguel is all on about, "what does this even mean, we're from entirely different dimensions", and Miguel2 over here just unapologetically, "so? My wife is also from another dimension, I just took her, she got used to it, it's totally fine bro, it's canon, just do it, just do whatever you want. it's fine bro I'M TELLING YOU--" and maybe even Mom!You is so, sucked into her own "it's ok I was initially forced into this because I'm happy now" world that she's even advocating, "oh gosh if I was her I'd be SO lonely, hearing how you two aren't even that close, especially not anymore, and you've all been avoiding her, and she doesn't even have a baby to care for and give her love 🥺 most 'me's are at least dating right now, so, i bet she's feeling so much pain, she NEEDS YOU right now 🥺"
Peter B is sent to give you another watch and tell you, it's ok, you can come back, they promise they're not gonna bug you about dating and stuff anymore, and you're just all "nah, I'm ok! :) you can keep it :) I've had enough of you guys :) dont let the door hit your ass on the way out :)" meanwhile Miguel 1 and 2 are comparing strategies, "see, when MY wife was refusing to come back to me, what I did was..."
#yandere spiderverse#yandere miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#like maybe hes always felt drawn to you and was holding himself back and then he learns youre canon and like?#hes like Oh Ok so theres a reason im like this. its totally normal and ok i feel this way :) and its like nah dude youre a lil crazy...
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So like what if Adam didn't die and lute managed to come out of the battle WITH an arm?
I want both of them to suffer a little so hear me out
What if our dear reader is an exorcist? So of course she's an angel!
What'll their reaction be if the two witnessed their dear close friend, the sweetest angel and friend they had the fortune to meet in their long lives, sacrifice herself so that the two of them would go back safely? (Forcing herself to go beyond her limits, healing all of their wounds and even opening a portal back to heaven just for the two of them.)
+ the fact that they're both horrible people and the only person who cared for both of them, tended their wounds, always there to back them both up, is now gone?
Angst is calling for me to make the two of them suffer a lil
Omg yes! This is such a good idea! I love making characters suffer! ALSO I do every request so don’t be afraid to send them! And it may take me some time to get to them, but I shall get to them. Sorry it took so long hope you enjoy! By far the favorite thing I’ve ever wrote. Like legit made me cry.
“I’m so fucking sorry!”
Part One| Part Two
Masterlist
Warning: death, angst, cursing
Summery: Adam and Lute watch you die, the only person they loved
—
“Are you guys sure about this? I mean what if her father shows up?” You spoke to the two exterminator angels.
They both looked to you simultaneously and there eyes softened on your worried form. Lute was the first to speak up to ease your worries. “It’s gonna be okay. Lucifer was the one who let us do this yearly anyways.” You nodded your head. She was right but you still worried.
“Don’t worry about it, hot stuff. If he shows up I can handle him.” Adam spoke ever so confidently. “Promise?” You were so afraid for them. Adam walked over and gave you a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Promise.” You reached out for Lute, wanting her to join the hug as well.
As she joined the hug you spoke from between their chest. “After the battle let’s all go and have a beach day.” The two angels laughed and agreed.
—
You hurried to Lute as you so saw her rip her arm off. You never flew so fast in your life. When you got to her you stopped her from flying after Vaggie. “We have to help Adam!” She spoke frantically.
“And I will. You need to sit down and let me help you first.” You sat her on the ground and placed your hands over where her arm should be.
A white glowing light came from your hands as you focused on rebuilding her arm. You started to feel dizzy as blood pooled in your moth. You could see black spots but when you were down Lutes arm had been good as new. You would t even know it’s been severed if not for her uniform sleeve. You two went to stand but the ground rumbled. You looked up and saw a golden light. Adams golden light came down in the middle of the hotel.
You quickly threw Lute away from the beam and got hit instead. A cut was in your shoulder. In went clean through. Your arm was fucking toasted from the severed nerves. You finally blacked out.
—
“Welcome to heaven.” Saint Peter spoke as you arrived at the golden gates. Though you weren’t interested in him, more so the man beside him talking to another female. “Then when the concert was over a BUNCH of girl came to the back to meet me. It was awesome.” The man spoke. You quickly intruded the conversation. “You play in a band?”
The man is what seemed like a mask turned to look at you, while sipping his drink loudly. “Sure am babe! Your looking at the first man!” Your eyes widened, but not because he was first man. “What part in the band do you play.”
You showed no interest in him being the first man. Normally that would piss him off but this time he didn’t care. “Guitarist.” Your smile widened.
You looked to the girl, clearly wanting her to joking the conversation as well. “Are you apart of the band?!” You were so excited and nice. It felt refreshing for Lute. “No.” Her voice sounded cold, though talking to you sparked a warmth inside her. “I’m Y/N.”
Lute smiled and extended her hand. “Lute.” You started to excitedly shake her hand. Happy to make a new friend.
Adam wrapped his arm around you both. “I’m Adam.” Well two new friends.
—
“You guys what?!” You asked, eyes wide at what just came out of Adams mouth. It was a slip up on Adams part. They had just gotten done with the extermination and Adam was use to telling you everything. So he may have slipped up and started talking about the extermination.
“Listen babe. It has to be done.” Adam was worried. Worried that you would get kicked out of heaven if Sera found out you knew.
Lute was the one who explained the whole situation. How the sinners were up-rising. How it needed to be done to protect heaven.
To both Adam and Lutes surprise you understood. It made them happy that you were accepting of it. For the first time they truly felt like someone wouldn’t leave. Sure they had each other before this but there friendly relationship really started from you being there glue.
“Okay babe but now that you know you have to become an exterminator like us.”
That made you nervous but Adam and Lute always stayed with you during it. They also didn’t expect you to kill anyone. All you needed to do was wear the uniform one day a year.
—
You stared at the papers that needed to be done. Since you didn’t kill the demons you demanded to do Adams paperwork.
You slowly blinked. You were tired but you had an hour to finish this and give it to Sera.
A coffee was placed right in front of you. You looked up and saw Lute. You smiled at her and grabbed the coffee. You also grabbed her hand and gave her a friendly kiss on the lips.
It was something you two had started doing recently. A way to give each-other the attention you craved.
Just as that had happened Adam walked through the door. His eyes widened. You were quick to explain it was platonic before he could assume anything. One he understood what happened he demanded you start doing that with him. He demanded the same thing from Lute as well.
As time went on many people believed you were in a poly relationship. But y’all were platonic friends who did romantic things sometimes.
Sure y’all all had sex together quite a bit, but no one ever felt any romantic feelings. It was all friendly and it felt natural.
—
You groaned awake at the sound of Adam shouting. “All of man-kind came from these nuts!” You opened your eyes to see Lute staring down at you, panic in her eyes. You smiled at her. Though your moment was cut short at the sound of Adam gasping. You looked over to him and saw a little maid stabbing him. You and Lute shouted Adams name as your hurried to fly to him. Fuck.
“Adam look at me your going to be fine.” You spoke your tone in confidence despite the tears running down your face. He smiled at his two girls looking over him.
He may have lost two wives, but he gained two best friends he would never replace for a damn thing.
You started to heal his wound with your hand like you did Lutes arm. You could feel pain all throughout your body as you pushed your limits. Your eyes started bleeding as did your nose.
Lute was conflicted as she watched you. She knew you needed rest but she didn’t want Adam to die. All you had to do was save Adam she would get you to a hospital.
But you weren’t making it back.
As Adam eyes opened he felt better than the first day he was made. He looked to Y/N and she smiled at him. Happy he was okay. He went to talk but she fell to his side. Her breath shallow. He hurriedly got up and looked her up and down. At that moment the portal closed and all the angels were gone beside him, you and Lute.
“Fuck babe look at me.” Your eyes were distant but you focused back in on him. Your Adam. Your apple.
“I love you, Apple. I love you too, wild girl.” You said to them both. Making them cry harder. “I love you too. More than anything.” They both said to her simultaneously. You closed your eyes and a portal opened.
“Fuck!” Lute shouted. She knew you weren’t going to make it.
“I’m so fucking sorry!” He spoke loudly as your eyes started to flutter closed. “It’s okay. Be happy. And go have that beach day.” Lute sobbed in her hand as she fell to the ground.
Adam gripped to you harder his tears falling to your chest as he cried silently. He couldn’t shout anymore. “Come back to us.” He whispered. You didn’t complete his wish. The one time you didn’t give him what he wished for.
Your breathing stopped and your halo fell. “I’m sorry baby.” Adam cooed in your ear, as he started to rock the two of you. Begging for god to give him back the one of the two woman he ever loved. You and Lute.
He looked to the sky. “You cruel manipulative bastard! Was a good person. I thought god was supposed to be merciful.” Lucifer watched as the first man shared the same rage he once had with god. “I have never asked for anything! I didn’t ask for Lilith. I didn’t ask for Eve! All I ask is to bring Y/N back to us.” But god did not respond. Leaving Adam to turn his rage to the group watch.
“I will kill you all!” He shouted, the tears coming from his eyes seeming endless. “I will have my vengeance.”
He picked you up as Lute grabbed your halo. The two walked through the portal.
They did have that beach day, but it was your funeral. Where your body was buried where no one could find. Only him and Lute. The two hugged each other as they both lost the person they loved most.
—
OMG I HAVE NEVER CRIED WHILE WRITING SOMETHING UNTIL THIS DAY! But I hoped you enjoyed! And I do take requests so please send away!
- kelp 💛 (someone help I’m dying from heartache)
Taglist
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#masterlist#adam hazbin hotel#adam is actually hilarious#adam x reader#x reader#lute#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin lute
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Doctor Danny Chapter 5 Stay-cation
Jason glanced at the couch as he made breakfast. Huddled inside a blanking was Danny with nothing but his pouting face exposed.
Jason shook his head. The doctor would run himself ragged at this point. Getting all upset because he couldn't go to work.
Danny was gradually getting hungrier by the second. Jason walked over with two plates with eggs and bacon on them.
"Made some breakfast" Jason said circling the plate near Danny's face. The smell was making Danny pissed off. He wanted to eat it but he didn't like the way Jason was so smug about it.
Eventually Danny broke down and had to open up his blanket to receive the plate.
"How is it?"
Danny scowled at Jason, "it's good" he muttered before shoving more food in his mouth and chewing angrily.
Jason couldn't believe how cute this doctor could be.
"Try some of this" Jason said handing Danny a glass.
Danny looked at Jason hesitantly. Danny brought the cup up to his lips and took a big sip.
A sweet liquid filled Danny's mouth, it left a tart aftertaste.
"What is this?" He asked looking at Jason with stars on his eyes.
"It's wine that I made when I visited a brewery a while ago" Jason picked up a napkin and gently wiped Danny's mouth.
Danny was too embarrassed to think.
"D-do you want some ectoplasm?!" He blurted out before thinking.
"If you want to, yes"
Jason was acting strange, why was he being shy and complacent all odt he sudden??
Danny crawled across the couch to Jason. He put his hands on Jason's shoulder to steady himself and bit Jason's neck.
A calm feeling washed over Jason as he closed his eyes. He felt disconnected and tingly. Danny was the opposite. Whenever he did this he felt like he was drinking pure energy.
"Mm" Jason's eyebrows furrowed. Danny let go.
"Better?"
Jason opened his eyes.
"Yeah, thanks"
Jason and Danny watched a few movies. Danny was talking about a character when his phone interrupted him.
Danny glanced at it casually. His eyes grew big.
"SAM!" Danny squeaked as he answered.
"Hey Danny, my band is performing tonight at the mike bar, you know the one right?"
"The usual one right?"
"Yeah, anyway we lost the lead singer so to a sore throat and we desperately need a replacement. I know how good you can sing and you play guitar so, please help me!"
Danny peered at Jason.
"Sure, I'll be right there" Danny hung up.
"Where are you going?"
"A bar nearby, I have to help out a friend"
Jason stood up and grabbed an extra jacket for Danny.
"Jason? Your coming too"
"Your still on the run remember"
Danny smacked Jason's shoulder.
"Don't say it like that! You make it sound like I'm running from the law!" Danny chastised.
Jason shrugged, "Batman isn't easy to shake off"
Danny crossed his arms.
"I already knew that, but I don't think he'll randomly bother me. He's gotta have a life too right?"
Danny got a bad feeling about the face Jason was making.
"You'd be surprised" Jason groaned.
They made it to the bar without running into to any issues. Danny stepped in and started looking around. This bar has a rustic vibe to it before but now it looked like a goth den.
Maybe it was because Sam's band was performing today but there seems to be a lot more goths than usual.
"Danny!" Sam exclaimed hugging him.
"Hey Sam, how have you been, it's been so long"
Sam grinned confidently and pointed her thumb towards her band mates who were setting up.
"My bands been doing pretty well"
Sam punched Danny's arm, "but hey can't believe my little delinquent is a famous doctor now"
Danny waved his hands.
"Sam! Don't talk about that on public!"
Jason put a hand on Danny's shoulder.
"Oh, who are you?" Sam asked.
"He's a friend of mine" Jason growled.
"R-right, Jason and I became friends recently."
Sam grabbed Danny's arm, "well sorry Jared but I'm going have to steal Danny for a bit"
Sam gave Jason a cold look, "not that it's really stealing since he isn't yours"
Danny send an apologetic look at Jason before being dragged off. Sam took Danny to the male bathroom.
"Here, change" she ordered thrusting clothes at him.
Danny didn't have time to object.
His eyes bugged out when he put on the clothes.
"What kind of clothes are these?!" He exclaimed.
He was wearing a black button shirt that was open in the back with an x strap, it also had three spikes jutting out on each shoulder. His pants were black jeans with rips and chains hanging along the side.
His shoes had been swapped for boots and on his hands he wore fingerless, fake leather gloves.
"You look almost perfect!" Sam said once Danny stepped out feeling dazed.
"Sit and stay still"
Danny sat on the stool and let Sam apply mascara to his eyes. It deepened his eyes, making him look like a real goth. A hot one at that.
"Your stage name should be...."
"How about Runner?" Danny suggested.
"Huh,Runner? Sure I guess it works"
Danny helped set up his mike. Sam let him use the spare electric guitar they had.
"Alright, you guys ready?" Sam asked, the band mates shouted in unison.
Jason waited impatiently for the Danny to make an appearance.
The band started up and Danny stood up to the mike.
"3,2,1-"
The band started playing, Jason watched Danny sing and play. He seemed so different from the doctor Jason knew.
The crowd was cheering as the band played. It had a pop rock vibe to it, the songs were catchy and Jason had to admit he liked the band.
Danny smiled and waved after the band finished their last song.
"Let me help you pack up" Danny said as he stuffed the equipment in Sam's bus.
"Thank you so much Danny! Who knew you still had in you!" Sam said laughing.
"Danny"
He turned to see Jason standing a few paces away.
"Hey Jason"
"You were really good up there"
Danny grinned.
"Really?"
"When you sang o felt my heart racing"
Danny laughed, "your funny Jason, but really it was all Sam. Her band is really great"
Sam playfully ruffled Danny hair.
"Yeah that's right, I'm awesome I know" Sam boasted.
"We should probably head back" Jason said.
"Head back, did you come from the same place?"
Danny seemed flustered.
"Yeah, Danny spent the night with me"
Danny was quick to clarify that he apartment had been broken into and Jason let him spend the night.
Though he could tell by Sam's face that she was thinking they were romantically involved.
When Danny got back he plopped onto the couch.
"You hungry?" Jason asked.
"A little" Danny said yawning.
'cute' Jason thought.
They ate and Danny passed out soon after.
The next morning Jason woke up to a note from Danny saying he had gone to work.
Jason had troed texting Danny alter that night but had gotten no response.
This went on for a couple days and later when Dick met up with Jason he could tell something was wrong.
"Hey, you look way too depressed, even for you"
Jason just drank.
"Come on, let it out"
Jason clenched his fist.
"I think I made someone mad"
Dick raised an eyebrow. Jason made people mad every day, there had to be more to this.
"This person started avoiding me, isn't answering my calls or texts and hasn't come back to my apartment-" Jason said too much.
"Ooh, romance problems huh?"
Jason groaned, "I wish, we aren't even dating. I've never been more frustrated"
"Maybe this person is just really busy, did you seem to be on good terms?"
"Yeah, I mean, he's a doctor so I guess he could just be busy but..."
Dick eyes lit up, a doctor? And a male one at that. Could it be-
"Do you have a crush on the famous doctor Fenton?"
Jason blushed furiously.
"It's not a crush!"
So he did.
"Why don't you visit him in person if your so worried?"
Jason sighed, "I don't want to bother him, besides I don't think he likes me back"
"There's only one way to find out you know"
And that's why Jason was currently waiting outside of Gotham General. He wasn't sure how long he had waited but a tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts.
"Jason, why are you here?"
He shrugged and turned his head away so Danny couldn't see him blushing.
"You weren't answering my calls or texts so I came to see you myself"
"Ah" that's right, Jason was a stalker. How could Danny forget.
"Right well I should probably get going" Danny said as he opened his car door.
Jason shut it and didn't take his hand off the door.
"Jason?"
"Why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just tired and I want to go home" Danny said turing away.
"I'll take you" Jason said.
In one deft movement Jason had picked up the lanky doctor and put him in the passenger side.
"What?" Danny said confused.
"You said your tired, so I'll drive"
Danny looked at Jason's face, he seemed anxious.
"H-hey, this isn't the way to my apartment." Danny said.
"Your apartment isn't safe, I'll take you to mine"
"What? Why? It's not your business if my apartments not safe"
"Your my friend Danny, I don't want you to get hurt"
"This isn't the way a friend acts!" Danny said. Jason had stopped at a red light giving Danny the perfect window to escape.
He unbuckled and slipped from the car. He started running. Jason had been acting weird, too weird. If I kept up Danny wasn't sure what he might do and he was afraid to push Jason away.
They were just friends! He really didn't want to make Jason uncomfortable but now everything was ruined.
Jason clenched his teeth. He found a secure place and parked Danny's car.
He made Danny run away! He was stupid!
Jason did his best tracking down Danny. Finally he spotted someone walking alone.
"Danny!" The person turned their head and it almost looked like they were crying.
Suddenly he started running again.
Jason caught up to him and grabbed him from behind holding him in a tight hug.
"Why are you running from me?" Jason asked in hurt pleading tone.
"Because-" Danny suddenly cut off, "batman" he said weakly.
"Batman?" Then Jason saw him.
"Crap, come on" Jason said tugging Danny with him as they ran, wearing in between stores.
They ended up on the roof of a quick-mart.
"Did we lose him?" Danny asked panting.
"Yeah I think-"
"No"
Jason fired his grappling hook, at the same time Danny almost tripped. Before they knew it, they were trapped, tangled up together and hanging off the side of the building.
"Shit" Jason said softly.
Bruce pulled them up and Jason untangled himself from Danny.
"Can't you just let the poor man go?" Jason asked.
Danny sighed and stepped up.
"It's alright Jason, I'll take responsibility for my actions."
Danny held out his hands to be cuffed.
"I'm not taking you to jail" Batman said.
Danny dropped his arms, "huh? Your not?"
"Your not?" Jason asked.
"No. However Jason and I seem to need have a talk."
"Then why were tracking Danny down"
"Your always together"
Jason was taken aback at Bruce's abruptness.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Come to the manor, well discuss there"
Jason cursed after the bat had left.
"What a dick seriously, how dare he do that to you!"
"It's really fine Jason, come on. Let's go, he's probably waiting for you"
Jason shrugged.
"Just don't jump out the car this time"
Danny promised not too and they drove up to the manor. When they got there, Danny noticed a butler waiting at the entrance.
"Welcome master Jason and his friend"
#dpxdc#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc universe#batman#redhood#fanfiction#jason todd#phandom#Sam Manson
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