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#it genuinely took me ages to pick just three
myuroll · 22 days
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one album, countless memories — gojo x fem!reader summary: your kids find an album of photos of you and satoru from highscool till now, you decide to explain all the silly lil stories you have fluff, crack, established relationship (married), you have two kids, dad!gojo, reader is called mommy/seen as a mother figure, a lil angst, maybe weird pacing..?
i liked the idea i had until i executed it..this isn't my best work (っ◞‸◟ c) CHOSO MAYBE NEXT (dont trust me)
wc: 1.3k
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when the kids began to learn to crawl, they were already exploring every nook and cranny of the house. if a cabinet was open, you could bet they'd squeeze inside and drool over every item they found.
at one point you and satoru found yourselves panicking around the house because the baby had mysteriously vanished. as it turned out, they had sought refuge in a laundry basket and slept soundly.
now, at the ages of two and three, nothing has changed. their adventure-loving mindset has only grown stronger. so, when you felt a gentle tug on your clothes and looked down, you saw none other than your kids attempting to hold up a thick, hard-covered book—the album.
“mommy mommy! wook what we found!” exclaimed aoi, your three-year-old.
“ooo, let mommy see,” you responded, crouching down to their height and picking up the album from them.
“picthuresh!” added haru, your two-year-old, with excitement, raising his chubby little hands.
you couldn't help but chuckle at his adorable enthusiasm as you skimmed through the first few pages of the album. nostalgia washed over you as you relived your high school memories.
"do you want me to tell you stories about these pictures?" you asked gently, a warm smile on your face.
your kid gasped excitedly, you could practically see the stars in their eyes at your suggestion.
"yesh! yesh!" haru exclaimed, eagerly nodding his head. then he asked, "daddy too?"
"of course! let's go get daddy then, okay?"
they nodded enthusiastically, and you took aoi's hand while haru sprinted as fast as his short, stubby legs would carry him to satoru's office.
before you knew it, you found yourself on the cozy couch in satoru's office, sitting next to him with the kids happily nestled in your lap, and the album held in front of you.
"which one do you want to know about, kiddo?" satoru asked, helping the kids flip through the album.
their giggles grew louder as they stumbled upon a peculiar picture of a familiar white-haired man. you couldn't help but join in on the laughter as you laid eyes on the photo.
"thish one! thish one!" the kids exclaimed in unison, their little fingers eagerly pointing at the picture.
"oh my god, i totally forgot about this!" you exclaimed, scanning the two pages filled with pictures from your day at the beach, which happened to be near a waterpark.
in the picture, water gushed and flowed through the waterslides with thousands of twists and turns. however, the main focus of the photo was a pink waterslide, and there, stiff as a board, sat satoru. the caption underneath, written in fine handwriting, read: "when satoru got stuck in the waterslide… 2006/06/11."
"do we really have to talk about… that one?" satoru sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.
“daddy, back then was very annoying, you know! he wanted to go on that slide no matter how many times we warned him that he would be too big, and then he got stuck!” you recounted, giggling.
"hey!" satoru quickly turned his head towards you, feeling insulted. "i was just…ambitious! i didn't realize the slides would be that tiny!" he defended himself.
"daddy wash fat?!?!"
aoi's innocent and genuine words caused you to burst into uncontrollable laughter. your eyes crinkled at the corners, and a wide, amused smile adorned your face. meanwhile haru gasped as if aoi had just solved all the mysteries of the universe.
"nononono! daddy was strong!" satoru protested, shaking his hands and head frantically. "daddy is strong!"
you couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle at satoru's attempts to salvage his image in front of the kids. however, haru stared at him with a blank expression, still shocked by the revelation, while aoi looked at him suspiciously, unsure whether to believe him or not.
"let's just move on…" satoru grumbled reluctantly, flipping the pages until something caught their attention.
“wooow! mommy wooks pwetty in thish one,” aoi exclaimed, awestruck by the wedding pictures, with haru nodding eagerly in agreement.
"she does, doesn't she?" satoru replied dreamily, his gaze fixed on the photographs.
blushing, you couldn't help but giggle shyly in response to the compliment. you leaned in and planted kisses on their cheeks, while whispering a quiet 'thank you.'
"whath are you doing...there?" haru asked curiously, tilting his head cutely.
you looked at the two pictures, one capturing you reading your vows and the other showing satoru reading his own. this caption read: ‘they did! 2014/05/21’
"we were our reading vows. it's like making a promise to each other," you explained to them.
"and i remember mommy's vows quite well! hmmm...what was it?" satoru teased, 'i love you with my whole heart, with a passion that can't be expressed in words. with you, i have found my home–'"
"stoppp!!! that's so corny…" you interrupted, placing one hand over satoru's mouth and the other partially covering your face. "i never said that! daddy is a liar!!"
you could feel satoru's smile growing beneath your hand as your face flushed with embarrassment. in response, he playfully nibbled the palm of your hand, causing you to squeal and retract it from his mouth.
"satoru!" you squealed, wiping your hand on the couch. haru and aoi burst into giggles, thoroughly entertained by their parents' antics.
with a playful side-eye directed at satoru, you continued to flip through the pages of the album as your kids oooo'd and aahh's at various photos before pointing to one they wanted to know more detail about.
"oooo, hamshther!" haru exclaimed excitedly.
"sweetie, that's a rat," you gently corrected, and haru's face twisted into a look of disgust.
in the picture, you and satoru appeared as blurry figures, running around in fear and disgust, while suguru held the rat up to the camera by its tail (you could see a glimpse of shoko's pinky in the right corner of the photo). this time, the caption read: "we found the rat. 2006/07/02."
"ewwww!" aoi expressed her disdain, scrunching her face adorably.
"a rat had somehow snuck into mommy's dorm, and shoko and her lost where it went! so, of course, mommy asked her knight in shining armor to find it!" satoru boasted, pointing to himself with his thumbs, "i had no choice but to save my princess!"
you playfully rolled your eyes and lightly hit him on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper into aoi's and haru's ears as satoru continued to gloat. "it really wasn't that cool, trust me."
the kids giggled at the information but acted oblivious to satoru's boasts, staring at him with starry eyes and admiration. however, a shiver ran down your spine as you remembered you and satoru on the couch, getting up to grab snacks, and shoko spotting the dead rat right where you had been sitting moments before.
"who ish thath?" haru innocently and curiously asked, pointing at the jet-black-haired man with a bun tied up, one strand in front and a calm yet cheeky smile— suguru geto.
satoru's features softened into a sweet but bittersweet smile as he gazed at the man his daughter had pointed out.
"he's my best friend."
"can we meeth him one day?" aoi asked excitedly.
"maybe, he lives far away now," satoru responded, and you discreetly reached behind the kids to hold his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
"awww… okay…" aoi replied with a hint of sadness and a small pout.
before you knew it, the rest of the day had slipped away in a flurry of giggles, snickers, and nostalgic conversations with your kids. satoru had just finished recalling another story with suguru (as per aoi's request and haru's encouragement), and you couldn't help but notice how they leaned on each other, peacefully asleep. soft, gentle snores filled the air, adding to the adorable scene.
smiling tenderly, you and satoru exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the moment. satoru discreetly took his phone from his pocket and captured a picture of the heartwarming sight.
just another picture for the album.
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reidmotif · 9 months
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Double-Booked for the Night
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Summary: Reader and Spencer have been double-booked by JJ for a night of babysitting. What happens when the situation brings out some buried feelings from both parties?
Prompt: JJ accidentally double booked a babysitter for Henry. You both end up staying, and after watching the kids all night, he can't help but want you.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut/Fluff
Content Warning: Spencer POV, coworkers to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, he picks her up, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, shades of breeding
Word Count: 7.7k
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In my time at the BAU, I had grown accustomed to the many changes it had brought to my life. I’d been made part of a world where long hours, serial killers, and few hours of sleep were the standard, and despite what anyone had to say about it, I had yet to truly hate my job. There were times where I couldn’t fathom that this was my life, that I was being made to peer into the minds of prolific serial killers at any given day, and expected to come out fine after, but for every negative this job brought, there was always one overwhelming positive. 
My team.
 If you got me tipsy enough, though, I’d probably end up babbling about the girl I’d come to know in the years I’d been here. (Y/N). 
If you got me a little drunker, I’d probably end up whining about how in the aforementioned years I’d been here, we’d never made a move on each other, despite the obvious chemistry. Part of me just wanted to mitigate the tension that had been building for ages, pull her into some darkened hallway and  kiss her senseless. Unfortunately, I was aware of the consequences that would come from acting so rashly, and so for both our sakes, I held back.  
Thankfully, there were a thousand things to distract me from my crush on the agent, and one of those things was JJ’s adorable son. Apart from being his godfather, my known lack of  a relationship among the team caused me to become the resident babysitter for the Jareau-LaMontagne household.
 It was always wonderful to lend a helping hand to one of my closest friends at the BAU, and let her and her husband get out of the house once in a while, but it was even more of an added bonus that Henry was absolutely adorable, and had honestly stolen my heart. I’d make my way to JJ and Will’s house, opening the door to be greeted by the blonde boy, who was always equally as excited to see me. I’d grown fond of him, and genuinely looked forward to whatever time we’d end up spending together. 
Which is why, when I’d come around to JJ’s house on a Friday night at her request, it was a little staggering to not see a head of blonde hair running to cling to my legs, but rather the coworker that had been plaguing my thoughts everyday for nearly three years at that point. It took me a second to focus on the actual situation at hand, as I was momentarily stunned into silence over how she appeared before me. She looked so casual, her hair loosely strung about, with a big hoodie and yoga pants enveloping her figure. She looked cozy, and warm- a noticeable change from the professional work attire I’d become accustomed to seeing her in. It was nice. And it briefly stopped my brain for a second.  It took me about five seconds before I remembered where I was, meeting her confused expression with mine. 
“(Y/N)?” I started. “What are you doing here?” I watched her keep the door open, whilst I raised my own eyebrow. 
“Babysitting for Henry, what are you..?” She replied, knitting her brows a bit. 
“Babysitting for Henry.” I responded, a little incredulously. 
“But JJ asked me..?” She started, when I interrupted her.  
 “Will asked me.” I said, and she nodded knowingly, realizing what had happened. 
“They double booked us.” She said, with a chuckle. 
God, she was so beautiful when she laughed like that.  
“Yeah, they did, didn’t they?” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, a little self consciously with a stupid smile plastered on my face. 
I couldn’t help but watch the little crinkle that formed at the sides of her eyes as she smiled affectionately at my remark. She had this way of making my insides turn to goo with a simple look, and at this moment, that was exactly how I was feeling. The way my body reacted to her came about naturally, and it was almost impossible to keep under wraps, even in moments like this. She gave me an adorable grin, laughing with me about the absurdity of the situation. 
“I guess I’ll..  go then.” I say with a chuckle, looking down at her. “JJ and Will only need one babysitter, and you’re already here..” I reason, gesturing to her standing at the door. 
“Yeah, I.. suppose you’re right.” She says, giving me another one of her small smiles. 
“I’ll see you at work then?” I say, a little awkwardly. Her hands twitched as they approached the doorknob, and I could feel it again. The absolute strain that seemed to reside between us. The manner in which her gaze connected with mine.  The way she seemed to linger a little too close to me instead of the handle of the door. It was so obvious we were denying what we wanted from each other, and it felt so ridiculous. I could feel myself letting out a breath, stepping away before I did anything stupid, until I heard a barreling of little steps hurtling towards me. 
“Uncle Spencer!” Henry cried, pushing past (Y/N), who nearly toppled over as the boy sprang at my legs. I steadied myself by grabbing onto the frame on the door, my smile returning as I reached down to hug him. 
“Hey! Henry.” I say, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately and bending down to meet his eye-level. “How are you doing?” 
“Auntie (Y/N) was about to put on a movie for us.” Henry says, smiling brightly and already attempting to tug me into the house. “Come watch!” 
“Aww, Henry.” I say, giving him a little frown. “I can’t, I’m sorry though.” I say, gently. “You should watch with Auntie (Y/N) though!” I say, smiling and looking up at her from my place on the floor. My gaze softened a bit as I noticed the unmistakable trace of blush on her cheeks, but my attention was quickly turned back to Henry, feeling another tug from him.  
“You don’t wanna watch with us?” He says, with the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen. 
“Henry..” I start with an apologetic tone, about to explain that I really couldn’t impose, even if deep down,  I secretly wanted to, if not to spend time with him, but her. 
“You can stay, you know?” She interjects from above us, and I look up at her, displaying my confused smile. 
“Really?” I say, raising my eyebrows at her, as I stood back up to face her.  “You’d be okay with that?” I say, still keeping my eyes locked on hers. 
“I mean, I don’t think I’d not take up the offer of more help with him.” She says, chuckling a bit as she crossed her arms and leaned up against the door frame.
I looked at Henry once more, grinning. I asked him, “Would you be okay with that, buddy?” 
Henry nodded excitedly, already pulling me into the house with his little hands. “Auntie (Y/N) put on a movie for me.”  He continued adorably, a bounce in his step as he guided me to the couch. 
I smiled at Henry as he led me to the living room, some children’s movie I didn’t recognize playing on the screen. I could hear (Y/N) following us after closing the front door and as I sat down, she smiled at me again. 
“It’s actually kind of a miracle you showed up when you did.” She says to me, a light giggle escaping from her lips. “I had no idea how I was going to get dinner out  and watch him at the same time.” She explained, as Henry made his way next to me, getting comfortable. 
“Ah, you know.” I say, shrugging and laughing nonchalantly, opening my arms to allow Henry to lean against me. “Always happy to help. Especially if it involves this little guy.” I ruffled his hair and heard a little chuckle against me from the boy, as I kept my eyes on her, flashing her a soft smile.
Henry grinned at that, as he excitedly started talking about the movie that was playing, wildly gesticulating as he attempted to explain what I’d missed since I’d entered the room. I nodded, but out of the corner of my eye I saw (Y/N) enter the kitchen, presumably to prepare Henry’s dinner. I heard and saw her rustling about the kitchen in small flashes, and a small smile graced my face at the sight of her. It was silly, but I rarely got to see this side of her. She looked so calm and laid-back, and it was a welcomed change, one that brought a certain warmth to my chest just from the look of it. 
I watched her for a few more moments, before turning my full attention back to Henry. I listened to him, nodding like I totally understood everything he was saying, even if he was talking fifty words a minute and stumbling over his speech every step of the way. Regardless, I loved him. Loved spending time with him, and that was only made better when I saw (Y/N) approach us in the living room, plopping down next to Henry with a plate of lasagna. 
“Okay, I know Mommy doesn’t usually let you eat in front of the TV.. so this’ll be our secret, okay?” She said, a playful glint in her eye as she carefully handed the plate to Henry. “But you gotta promise me one thing.” 
Henry nodded excitedly. She spoke with mock seriousness to him, pursing her lips and nodding. “You gotta promise me you’re gonna finish everything off your plate, alright?” It wasn’t even a question, as Henry nodded, happily agreeing with her, and digging into the food she’d brought. She sat back, looking satisfied with herself.  I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the sight. She was always kind at work, and it wasn’t surprising that she was good with kids, but I never expected her to be this good. She fit into the role naturally, and it sent a feeling of endearment through me as I watched her speak to Henry. 
Henry ate quietly between the two of us as I watched the TV, but in actuality my mind was completely focused on her. The softness in her actions towards Henry, the tenderness in her eyes as she dealt with him. It was truly having an effect on me, and in a moment of weakness I allowed myself to get wrapped up in a fantasy involving her, me and a child of our own. It was insane! I’d never even kissed the girl before, but watching her like this made me desperately long for a situation in which we had a family together, a concept I had been yearning for privately, only exacerbated by the wonderful woman in front of me. 
It seemed I’d gotten a little too lost in my thoughts, because I felt Henry tugging at my shoulder, and I blinked, realizing he’d been trying to get my attention for a few seconds now.  “Uncle Spencer!” He whined, and I looked at him with a stir. 
“Ah, sorry Henry! Got really into the movie.” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit as I ran my hands through my hair. “What’s up?” 
“Can you help me wash my hands?” He asked, in his little voice, and I laughed a little, nodding. 
(Y/N) took his plate from him, smiling at me and mouthing a ‘thanks’, which I returned with a smile of my own and thumbs-up, as I took Henry to the bathroom. I led him there, opening the door and watching from the door frame as he stood on the kiddie-stool, washing his hands for the full, recommended twenty seconds. I’d taught him well. When he finished, he wiped his hands on the hand towel and leapt off the stool, running past me. I rolled my eyes fondly, because as usual, Henry had left the bathroom light and door open. I closed both for him, walking to catch up with him, and before I’d even entered the living room, Henry was sitting on the couch, already back to watching the movie that played in front of him. 
I came near him, ruffling his hair. “You all good there, bud?” I asked, and Henry nodded absentmindedly, clearly focused on the TV instead of my words, and I chuckled affectionately at his total and complete disinterest in me, now that he could watch TV uninterrupted. 
“You okay if I go help out Auntie (Y/N) in the kitchen real quick? I’ll be right here.” I said, reassuringly, but Henry wasn’t even paying attention, so I smiled and walked towards the kitchen, beckoned by the sight of (Y/N) washing Henry’s dinner dish, her sleeves rolled up and her previously open hair now pinned back. 
I approached her and leaned against the counter, smiling a little dumbly as I watched her, until she looked up at me, sending me a confused grin. “What are you smiling about, Reid?” She asked, a playful lilt in her voice as she continued scrubbing away at the dishes. 
“Ah, nothing.” I responded, but she looked up, rolling her eyes with amusement. 
“You know we’re both profilers, right?” She shot back, raising an eyebrow and smirking at me. “I can tell when you’re not exactly being truthful.” She paused, before taking a second to properly look at me. “Come on, spit it out.” 
I took a breath, shrugging and turning my body to face her as she kept her gaze trained on me. “It’s really nothing, I just.. I guess I’m surprised by how good you are with kids.” I say, not trying to let on how much tonight had actually affected me in regards to my feelings about her. 
She raised her eyebrows, letting a giggle fall from her lips. “What, you think I’d suck with them or something?” She said, biting her lip a bit and I felt my heart turn a bit at that. Even though I was aware she was joking, I felt the overwhelming need to comfort her, to make my intentions more than clear. 
“No, no, (Y/N).” I say, shaking my head and chuckling. “I just meant- you’re so thoughtful at work, of course you’d be good with kids. It’s a no-brainer. But I don’t know, seeing it in front of me was just..” I took a breath, smiling. “This may be totally weird to say, but you’d make a great mom.” 
I watched her reaction, fearing I’d maybe crossed a line by saying so, but she smiled shyly, purposely keeping her eyes off me as she asked, “Yeah? You think so?” 
I kept my eyes on her, adoringly observing her as I nodded. “Yeah, no. I know so.” 
I watched her bite her lip as she kept her view away from mine, and even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, I saw a light blush fill her cheeks. She looked up at me, an innocently amused look on her face. 
“Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.” She responds, starting to dry her hands with a dish towel off the side of the sink. As she reached forward, she shifted herself a bit closer to me and I watched as she rubbed off the water droplets on her skin with the fabric. I could physically hear her swallowing as our proximity to each other was brought closer, and I couldn’t help but watch her lips, slightly red and swollen from biting on them all night. It was a habit of hers I’d noticed since we began working, and tonight, it was driving me fucking crazy. I wondered what it’d feel like to have her lips against mine, to run my tongue over the plumpness of them. I imagined pinning her against the counter right here, kissing her until we both forgot our names and lost our breath in each other. I shakily exhaled at the thought, and at that moment, she looked up at me, and seemingly caught me in the act of staring, except she didn’t move away. We exchanged glances for a beat, and I was beginning to contemplate leaning in, repercussions be damned, but in a twisted turn of fate, we heard a little voice calling out to us in the other room. 
“Auntie (Y/N)! Uncle Spencer! The movie’s over!” He called out, starting to run into the kitchen with the remote. (Y/N) laughed nervously, moving away from me to pick up Henry in her arms. I stepped away just as fast,  going back to leaning on the counter as I watched her cradle the boy in her arms, and I could physically recognize the feeling of affection filling my body as my eyes were fixed on her. If she noticed, she pretended not to, turning her entire focus on the boy. 
“You know what that means, right, Henry?” (Y/N) asked, cooing a bit at the boy. “It’s time for bed, alright? Let’s get you upstairs.” 
“Can Uncle Spencer come too?” Henry asked, looking at me. The boy was clearly a little more tired now that it was later in the night, but he was quite clear in his demands. Henry then looked at (Y/N), his eyes big and wide. “Did you know Uncle Spencer can read me a whole story without the book?”
(Y/N) only laughed at that, looking between me and the boy. “Can he now? I guess he’s just going to have to join us for bedtime, right?” She looks at me, raising an eyebrow and I nod, beaming a little coyly. 
“Eidetic memory, remember?” I say, smirking at her. 
She makes an amused sound at that, nodding knowingly. “How could I forget?”
 She sighs softly, still supporting Henry in her arms. “Okay, let’s get you to sleep, bud.” She says, kissing the top of his head,, beginning to walk towards the stairs, looking back at me and motioning for me to follow. 
I smiled at the gesture, and again, I could sense my heart yearning for a future in which this was our life. It was ridiculous, and yet as the night progressed, my imagination only continued to go wild with the possibilities of a reality where we were each other’s. I continued to walk with her, until we reached Henry’s room, which she slowly turned the knob to. She walked in, keeping the door open for me as I trailed behind her, closing the door. She laid Henry down in the bed, looking at me. 
She ran her hands down her thighs, beaming gently at me through the low light of Henry’s bedroom. “I’ll.. um. I’ll leave you here with him?” She asked, keeping her voice low. I felt a moment of disappointment flash through me, secretly wishing she’d stay, for us to spend more time in this bubble we’d created for ourselves tonight. I know I wasn’t crazy, I know that she had to feel it too. But, at the risk of seeming clingy, I nodded, permitting her to leave the room. But a little voice protested, sitting straight up in his bed and tugging at her hand back to him. 
“No, no!” Henry whined. “I want Auntie (Y/N) and Uncle Spencer here.” 
I could hear her pause, before looking at me with a subtle, surrendering expression in her eyes. “Okay, okay, Henry.” She says, sitting down in his bed next to him.
 She smoothed over his hair, and Henry looked at me expectantly. I exchanged a quick, covert look with her, implicitly making sure she was okay with all this, and she nodded, even repositioning herself to allow me more space on the other side of Henry. I slid in, moving around until I found a more comfortable position. The three of us attempting to squish into the same, child-sized bed resulted in a slightly tight fit, but it was cozy, nonetheless. (Y/N) had adjusted to be slightly leaned on her side, her hands now lazily playing with Henry’s hair, brushing the hair away from his face. I observed her affectionately, sensing a familiar warmth suffuse me yet again, as I beheld the domesticity in front of me. She made eye contact with me, still keeping her fingers running through the strands of the boy’s hair, smirking softly at me. 
“You know.. I think someone promised us a bedtime story.” She murmured quietly, a touch of whimsy in her voice. 
I chuckled softly at that, breathing out a little harder out of my nose. “Okay, yeah. Right.” I took a breath, and tried to recall something to recite off the top of my head. I decided on a classic, Alice in Wonderland as I felt its longevity would allow Henry ample time to fall asleep. She seemed pleased with this too, relaxing into her position on her other side of Henry, watching me as I began. I started to speak, my tone low and soothing, and in about twenty or so minutes, I could hear the soft breathing of the boy slow down and I gazed upon him, but quickly realized that (Y/N)’s fingers had stilled in his hair too, and in a moment of realization, I became aware that not only was Henry asleep, but so was she. I allowed myself to stare at her sleeping figure, marveling at the way strands of her soft hair gently placed themselves around her face in a way that framed her delicate features perfectly. I swallowed, wishing more than anything that I could lean over, brush over the wisps and kiss her forehead, but I held back, opting to gently push her awake. 
“(Y/N).. hey.” I breathed out softly, keeping my voice to a low whisper so as to not wake Henry. “Come on, you don’t wanna fall asleep here.” I brought my hand to her shoulder, rubbing it softly to stir her awake and she did, blinking herself awake. She realized where she was and yawned, and let a soft giggle escape her lips. 
“Ah, I totally fell asleep, didn’t I?” She mused, keeping a hushed voice. 
“Yeah, you did.” I replied, watching as she woke up slowly, waiting for her to get up. 
“You’re good at that. Getting him to sleep, I mean.” She said in return, keeping her attention on me, never once diverting her eyes from mine. She paused, seeming to consider her next words carefully, before following with a gentle addition, “You’d make a great dad.” 
I tensed at the words, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment and the sheer need to reach over and grab her by the shoulders, as if to alert her that, ‘Yes! I would! And I want that with you!’
Instead, I softly chuckled at her words, swallowing down my affection and nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”
She released a quiet breath, starting to move off the bed as slowly as she could. “We should get out of here. JJ and Will will be home soon, and we can go home.” She replied, in a faint voice. 
I nodded, already beginning to shuffle off the bed and joining her at the door. I watched her give Henry one last look, before opening the door. She held it ajar for me and I walked past her quietly, and as I did, she followed, closing the door with a gentle click, and releasing another exhale. 
“Thank god.” She said, smiling a little brighter now. We walked down the stairs, and she allowed her voice to raise as we got further and further away from Henry’s room. “It takes me forever to get him down. You’re like.. actual magic.” She continues, nudging my shoulder. 
I fidget with my fingers, feeling a little bashful. We approached the living room again, standing in the middle of the room as we continued talking. “Yeah, no. JJ and Will have been asking me to babysit since Henry was three. You learn a lot.” 
She gleamed at that, nodding. “Regardless of how you figured out how to do it, you were still a huge lifesaver tonight.” She remarked, adding to her statement in a soft voice. “Thanks.”
 Her eyes met with mine. I gave her a smile, making eye contact with her again. I’d always loved her eyes, they were always so big and expressive. They just contained so much emotion, and I’d grown to love watching her when she was happy, or excited, because those emotions were so clearly reflected on every part of her face. But right now, as I looked into her eyes, they expressed an emotion I’d become very accustomed to seeing tonight, and found myself precariously losing my will to deny.
Desire. 
And there it was again, that tenderness, that affection, and just the absolute craving to be with her, in every sense of the word. She bit her lip, and in an instant it was made clear to me that perhaps my sentiment to overlook the possible aftermath of giving into the desire that plagued us was shared, because she moved a little closer to me, her eyes moving from my eyes to my lips. I swallowed.
“Tonight was.. fun.” I murmur, eyeing her lips in a similar manner as she had.
She nodded, silent, before releasing a shaky exhale. “It was .. fun. Yeah.”  She responds, her voice barely above a whisper. 
We were barely speaking, and yet in that moment I felt entirely breathless in her presence. I wanted to say something, anything, but any thought of mine completely died, because as soon as I even attempted to open my mouth, she surged forward, planting her lips on mine. I was momentarily stunned. She kissed me once, then twice and then slowly pulled away.  I instantly missed the feeling and warmth of her mouth against mine, wanting nothing more than to pull her against me again. She, on the other hand, looked mortified, her lips parted and her complexion flushed.
“Oh god, Spencer.” She started, a little frantic. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, and we can forget-” 
I finally gave into what I’d been yearning for the whole night, not even bothering to respond to her apologies as I pulled her back against me, bringing her face closer to mine in a heated, passionate kiss. I could feel her happily sigh into my mouth, and I took the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth, and she only responded more enthusiastically to that, her arms wrapping themselves around my neck. I took the opportunity to lean down, placing my hands on the back of her thighs, never once letting my lips leave hers. I heard her moan slightly into my mouth at that, and I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face. I’d wanted this for so long, and with the way she was reacting, I could tell the lust I felt was mirrored in her as well. 
I laid her on the couch, finally letting my lips leave hers to take a breath as I positioned myself above her and grinning wildly, She looked equally as excited, already trying to pull me back against her. 
“You have.. no idea.. how bad I’ve wanted this.” She murmured, in between breaths, attempting to kiss me yet again. 
Before I kissed her, I leaned down, letting my lips brush over the shell of her ear, lowly whispering, “I think I have a clue.”
 I heard another soft moan coming from her at my words, and I felt a wave of pride knowing I’d done that to her. She was the one under me, moaning for me like that, and it only spurred me on further. I promptly moved myself closer to kiss her again, letting both of my hands rest on either side of my face as I hovered above her, fully losing myself in the action. We continued at this, feeling our hunger for more grow. I began to let my hand trail down to her hips, slowly bringing my hand under her hoodie, feeling a shudder as my hand met her warm skin. It took nearly everything to not rip it off her, but in an unanticipated shift in circumstances, we heard the telltale noise of the front door knob moving from its locked position, signifying that JJ and Will had gotten home.
I lept off her, her body imitating my movements, instantly moving away from mine and I almost immediately yearned for her touch again, but I understood the dire situation we’d found ourselves in. She brushed over her hair, attempting to make herself look as normal as she possibly could. I took in her state, hair in disarray, her skin reddened and her lips swollen. I had a sneaking feeling that I most likely mirrored her disheveledness, and took a breath, silently begging that JJ and Will wouldn’t notice, and even if they did, they didn’t comment on it. We heard the footsteps of them approaching the living room, and (Y/N) stood up to greet them. 
“JJ, Will.” She said, smiling. “Henry’s all asleep and put down.” 
JJ smiled at her, hugging her gently. “Oh, thank you so much. Was he good?” She asked, laughing a bit. 
“An angel.” (Y/N) responded, smiling. 
As JJ’s eyes met mine, she raised an eyebrow. “Spencer, what are you doing here?” She asked, with a confused look, before Will spoke up behind us.
“I thought (Y/N) couldn’t babysit.. I called Spencer.” Will said, a little sheepishly. 
JJ looked at him, her jaw dropping a bit. “No, remember? I told you, (Y/N) wasn’t but then she could.” 
The two of them laughed a little apologetically as they realized their miscommunication, turning to face me and (Y/N). 
“We’re so sorry guys. We didn’t even realize..” JJ started, but (Y/N) interrupted her. 
“No, no. It’s okay! Spencer was a huge help.” She says, smiling at me. 
“Yeah.” I responded, nodding and affirming her statement in an attempt to alleviate any guilt JJ or Will might’ve felt about the situation (not trying to reveal how secretly pleased I was with it). “(Y/N) made the time go by faster than usual. Don’t even worry about it.” 
JJ sighed, smiling and nodding. “Thank you. It was nice to get out of the house tonight.”
“It was  no problem.” (Y/N) responds. I can tell she’s trying to play it cool, to end off the interaction before JJ looked at the two of us for a little too long and realized what had conspired in her and Will’s absence. “So.. uh. It’s late.” (Y/N) breathes out. “And I love your kid, JJ, but I’m ready for some well deserved sleep.” She said, with a little smile. 
JJ nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. “Yeah, get out of here.” She said, playfully waving a hand at (Y/N), then me. “You too, Spencer. I’m sure you’re tired too, even if you’re too polite to say so.” 
I rubbed my neck with my hand, chuckling softly. “Yeah, yeah.” I replied, trying to fake tiredness to match JJ’s expectations of what I’d be like after a night of watching her kid. However, I was probably the furthest thing from tired. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what had just occurred with (Y/N) just now, and how badly I wanted to do more. The sheer desperation I felt for her was absolutely ruining me, and honestly, I had very little willpower stopping me from just taking her hand and dragging her out of the house, and kissing her right outside on the porch. Thankfully, before that could happen, (Y/N) started walking towards the door and I followed behind her, attempting to look as normal as I could. 
“Goodnight!” She called out, opening the door. 
“Get home safe!” JJ responded, watching as we both left and closing the door behind us. I took a breath, turning towards her and exhaling. The night air was a lot colder than the warmth of the house, but even then I could feel how hot my body was becoming, absolutely begging for her once again.
“So..” I started. 
“So..” She responded, and then suddenly spoke up. “Do you need a ride home?” 
I blinked in response, understanding the implicit request in her words and biting my lip at it. “Yeah, I do.” I responded. 
“Great.” She responds with purpose, grabbing my hand with a need I’d never seen from her before. It thrilled the hell out of me to know she was just as eager as me, and longed for me with the same fervor. Her gaze was intense as she led me to her car, and in a split second, I decided I couldn’t wait an entire car ride to taste her again. I quickly pinned her against the war, and I could feel her let out a noise of surprise before I dove in for another kiss, taking delight in the way she pressed against me instantly, giving into the kiss. She demonstrated her enthusiasm, nearly moaning into my mouth and I laughed, shushing her in between kisses. 
“(Y/N)!” I said, whisper-yelling. “We’re right outside JJ and Will’s house. Someone’s gonna hear us.” 
She pulled back, breathing heavily and looking at me with a glint in her eye. “Well, will you hurry up then and just take me back to your place?” She retorted, playfully, diving in for one last kiss. 
I nodded. “Gladly.” I took the car keys from her, grinning wildly. 
“Hey! It’s my car!” She said, trying to grab the keys back, a hint of amusement in her tone. 
“I know a faster way back to my place. Wouldn’t you rather get there, than argue over who drives?” I say, feeling a surge of confidence as I cockily raised an eyebrow at her. 
She rolled her eyes, but I could sense the fondness in the expression as she basically ran to the passenger side, opening the door. “Drive fast. Please.” The desperation in her tone heightened my arousal and I wondered if it’d be possible to just give up and have sex in the backseat of her car, but I quickly let go of the thought. I’d wanted this for so long, and when I fucked her tonight, I was going to take my time. I was going to savor her, worship her for everything she was. 
It took ten, painstakingly long minutes for us to reach my apartment, and less than three to stumble to my apartment, all over each other like a pair of horny teenagers. It was like we were magnets, unable to get away from each other for even a second without thinking we couldn’t live without the other. I responded passionately to each and every one of her advances against me, kissing her fervently against the wall, up the stairs, before finally leading her to my bedroom. We fell into my bed in a tangle of limbs, and I breathed heavily over her. Ultimately, we found ourselves once again in the same position we’d been in on JJ and Will’s couch, with me on top of her. I looked down at her, finally taking a break from kissing her to cradle her face with my palm, still holding myself above her body. 
“Did you mean it?” She asked, softly, biting her lip. 
“What do you mean?” I respond, starting to move my lips gently down her neck, testing out different points of sensitivity. I wanted to kiss every inch of her bare skin, to feel her in every way. I could feel her body squirm and tense as I let my lips linger on a particular spot between her ear and neck, beginning to lightly suck there until I heard a quiet moan coming out from the girl in front of me. 
“The thing about me being a good mom.” She spoke, in between moans and happy sighs. “Or was that like, flirting? For sex?” 
I suddenly retracted my position from her neck, making her whine a bit but I quickly placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me. 
“(Y/N), I cannot express how devastatingly real my feelings are for you. You’re- you’re perfect. And I wish I’d said it a long time before tonight, if I knew we could’ve done this much earlier.” I looked deep into her eyes, hoping my words and the intensity of my gaze could properly convey just how sincere I was about this, about her. 
Her lips parted, and she let out a soft exhale, and then allowed the corners of her mouth to turn upwards in a smile. I smiled down at her, once again recapturing her lips in a kiss, almost as if to seal the deal between us. She reciprocated, before pulling back. “I meant it.” She admitted softly. “I’ve always thought you’d be a good dad.” 
I could feel myself blushing at that, moving in for another kiss. I was enthralled by her, addicted to her taste and the way her lips moved over mine. I felt like I could do forever, but a slight mewl alerted me that she wanted a bit more than that.
“Spence, kissing is really, really nice. But if you don’t fuck-” 
I quickly understood, beginning to kiss the expanse down her neck, already moving my hands under her hoodie and grabbing at her breast, squeezing the soft and supple skin through her bra, eliciting the sweetest sounds from her that only served to embolden me. I slowly moved to remove the pieces of fabric between us, and as soon as she registered the shuffling of her hoodie, she eagerly reached out to begin undoing the buttons of my own shirt. She paused, letting me pull off the hoodie and I leaned back, admiring her, all laid out like this for me. I ran a finger against her jawline, and watched her shudder at the intimacy of the action. 
“You’re so beautiful.” I whisper, physically unable to take my eyes off her. I could tell it was affecting her, as she looked shy under my gaze, a light tinge of pink now dusting her cheeks as I spoke the words. 
“Thank you.” She says, in a similar tone to mine. She leans up to kiss me again, and her fingers are working my buttons. I let her, shrugging the shirt off and pressing my bare chest against her. She was just so soft, and warm, and I truly couldn’t get enough of her. I moved down, kissing the swell of her breasts and moving my fingers back to unclasp her bra, slipping it off her and immediately attaching my mouth to her nipples, moving my hand to rub at the other one. I watched her mouth drop open, her face contorting with pleasure, moaning out my name. I continued my ministrations for a moment, before beginning to kiss down her stomach. I could feel the tensing of the muscles, her happy sighs and light moans indicating to me I was doing a good job at pleasing her, and at that moment, it’s all I wanted. 
I began to slip down her sweatpants, reveling in the way she lifted up her hips, kicking off the clothing. I kissed near the hem of her underwear, teasing her by lightly tracing my finger near where a wet patch had formed against them. 
“You were so good today, you know that?” I murmur, letting my breath hit her clothed core. I pressed a chaste kiss against it. “So fucking good.” 
I hear a desperate moan from her, her hips jolting against my face, begging me for more. I nod, using my fingers to slide down the fabric, watching in fascination as her glistening folds were revealed to me, and in an almost primal way, I let my tongue dart out, licking a fat stripe against her. She immediately shuddered, nearly closing her thighs around me from the intense euphoria she was experiencing. I hooked my hands underneath them, holding her open and tasting the hot flesh against my tongue, enjoying the way she tasted against me. I had never felt such a burning need for anyone in my entire life, and I’m sure she could tell by the way, given the way I was absolutely devouring into her, my tongue continuing to move against her like a man starved, lapping up whatever I could. I wanted it all. I began to feel her thighs shake uncontrollably against me, and her moans reverberating around the room as her volume got louder. 
“Please-please! Spencer. Holy fuck. Please don’t stop, please don’t-” 
I let my tongue dart harshly against her clit, and her begging fell into a string of incoherent whimpers and praises for my mouth, making me chuckle slightly. It seemed to do her in, the vibration of my mouth causing her moans reaching a peak they hadn’t this entire night, and a tension leaving her body as she looked down at me with glazed eyes, breathing heavily. I drank her arousal, feeling the entirety of her arousal coating my lower chin. She moaned at the overstimulation, but I could only focus on how fucking good she tasted. 
I moved up against her, giving her another kiss, before I felt her moving, tugging me off her. 
“Something wrong?” I asked, knitting my brows and biting my lip. 
“I need you inside me. Now. Please.” She said, the intensity of her desperation going straight to my cock as I nodded quickly. 
“Okay, yeah.” I replied, quickly beginning to undo my own pants and pulling my cock out of the confines of my briefs. I gave it a few strong tugs, before moving above her again, rubbing the head of my arousal against her folds. She moaned at the feeling, before it died out into a silent scream as I moved inside of her with no warning. She screwed her eyes shut, before moaning out, “Fuck. You feel so good.” 
That was all the incentive I needed, beginning to buck wildly against her watching as we both lost ourselves in the pleasure we were giving to the other. As she whimpered, I moaned out at the feeling of how well she was taking me. I leaned down, whispering into her ear. “You’re so good.” I moaned, feeling a particularly strong clench against my cock. “I want you so badly. I wanna make you mine.” I groaned, barely getting the words out as she tensed against me, clearly nearing her second release of the night. 
I could feel the twitch of my member inside of her, feeling the arousal fill up in the pit of my belly, my breathing getting heavier and faster as we both reached our peaks. 
“Take me.” She moaned, desperate and needy. “I’m yours. Make me yours.” She said, nearly screaming out the words. 
My hips snapped harder against her, a primal growl coming out of me as I heard the words. “Is that right? You wanna be filled? You want my cum inside you, then?” 
“Yes, yes! Spencer, please- please! I need it!” At her last beg, I groaned, feeling myself expel inside of her, feeling myself come inside of her. A few moments later, her walls spasmed against me, soft whimpers and moans leaving her lips as she convulsed against my cock. I thrust lazily, working both of us through our orgasms, before gently rolling off her, and kissing her forehead, then her cheek.
“You’re so amazing.” I whisper to her, as she gives me a dazed smile, clearly fucked out but elated. A thin sheen of sweat covered her, and it only served to make her look even more radiant in the light of my bedroom. 
“You too, doc.” She said, a teasing quality in her voice, as she shifted herself closer to me. I opened my arms up to her, letting her lay her head on my chest, and I could feel her breathing relax and slow down as she settled against me, closing her eyes. 
“Goodnight.” I murmur, kissing the top of her head one final time. I began to close my eyes, ready to fall asleep like this, before I heard her voice again, soft and light. 
“Spence?” She mumbled, half-asleep as her lips brushed the bare skin of my chest. 
“Mm?” 
“I really like you.” 
I laughed at that, feeling a bloom of absolute adoration fill my chest. “I really like you too.” I sighed, closing my eyes once more. “Sleep.” 
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The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, groaning as I realized it was JJ. (Y/N) was still asleep in my arms, and I shifted our positions slightly, careful not to wake her. I answered the phone in a low tone. “JJ? What’s up?” 
JJ’s voice came frantic from the other line. “Spencer?! Spencer. Oh my god. Did (Y/N) get home last night? I’m here at her apartment, and I don’t see her car in the parking space and-” 
I internally groaned, realizing I was going to need to explain her whereabouts without revealing what we had done. “Erm. JJ. Don’t worry.” I responded, trying to seem nonchalant, keeping my voice down. “I’m sure she’s fine.” 
“Don’t worry?! Spencer, where the fuck is she?! Did you see her go home or-” 
I interrupted her, sighing discerning that JJ wasn't going to take a vague answer right now. “She’s with me, okay! It’s okay. She’s with me.” 
There was a beat, and then I heard the smile in her voice. “She’s with you?” 
I rubbed my forehead, letting out a low groan. “She is.” 
JJ’s voice, now growing excited erupted in a fit of giggles and laughs. “Oh god, I owe Will twenty bucks now. I knew it would happen eventually, but I never assumed all it would take would be one night spent together!” 
It was my turn to be confused, knitting my brows. “Sorry, what?” 
JJ responded simply, her coyness over the phone giving away everything. “Let’s just say we knew we were double-booking last night.” 
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hello again! thank you so much for reading. as usual, likes, reblogs, feedback are all appreciated. i cannot say thank you enough. <3 p.s . thanks for everyone's help on the poll!! i hope this satisfied everyone's want for a long smut fic, haha:3
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heartss4val · 4 months
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hellooo! i was just binge reading all your works and immediately followed, and saw that you were taking requests soo i wanted to request a lil something!
it’s a percy x f!reader where they stay up late to wait for christmas together! scenario could preferably be on top of their apartment rooftop or smth, but i wouldn’t mind any other choices you’d like! thank youuu, once again i love your workkkk <3
𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ MEET ME AT THE ROOFTOP | percy jackson x gn!reader [wc: 924] thank u anon for ur kind words, ur the sweetest!!
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you had a couple ideas of where you'd be on christmas eve. tucked under the covers of the bed you and percy were sharing while you were over for the holidays, wrapping up last-minute presents, staying up late due to the surge of adrenaline, maybe?
you were pretty wrong about all of those.
"'just hope this year isn't as hectic as last," percy's voice cuts through your thoughts as he tosses rocks off the rooftop of the apartment complex, trying to hit a nearby tree.
you nod absently, hands fiddling with the red and green macaroni necklace that estelle had thrust into your hands the moment you stepped foot into the jackson household. the frigid wind bites at your skin, but you don't complain. percy, however, smushes your face into his shoulder, covering the remaining exposed part of your cheek with his hand.
as you nuzzle further into his warmth, percy glances at the blue, glowing watch that he'd picked up from a cornerstore years ago. it was old and looked like it had been through a war, but it still worked. "only three more minutes," he murmurs, holding up his wrist so you could see the neon blue numbers reading '11:57'. against the blackness of the night, the color was almost garish, but it was softened by the warm glow of christmas lights that adorned percy's neighborhood.
you smile, your lips dry and cracked from the cold. percy had brought you up here solely to be the first to give you your gift on christmas day. he and estelle had a running competition, and he couldn't present it to you in the house without her popping up from seemingly nowhere. the rooftop was the only place of privacy. it was technically cheating, but estelle had won for the past two years and percy was petty. the small gift box next to the boy didn't go unnoticed by you.
"you wanna try?" percy asks, handing you the rock he'd been about to throw. he still hasn't hit his target. you muttered a quiet 'yeah,' took a deep breath, and hurled the rock off the roof.
it hit the tree square on.
percy looked genuinely flabbergasted. mind-boggled, if you will. "you're sick," he says at last. "why would you do this to me?"
"you can defeat the god of war at the age of twelve but you can't hit a tree that's like, thirty feet away?" you retort, breath visible in the frigid air.
"take that back!" percy laughs, his knit beanie tumbling off his head as he tackles you to the rooftop ground, holding your face in his hands.
percy could be intimidating when he wanted to be, but up here, with a smile lighting up his face and his eyes sparkling with mischief, he was anything but.
"i'm gonna make you sorry," he warns.
"sorry for what?" you quip, breathless from the effort of holding him off when he wants to reach you this badly. "that all those years of sword training couldn't build up your muscles enough to hit a tree that close to you?"
he ignored your taunt, his fingers squeezing yours as he ducks down into your space. you laugh, squirming away, pushing your hand (with his still twined into it) against his face.
"you suck at this," you tease. "and you won't win!"
"oh, yeah?" he says, his smile wide and gleaming. two of his teeth are a little sharp at the corners, reminding you of a shark. fitting.
percy's lips part, ready to speak, but just then the alarm on his watch, the old and crusty one that he showed you earlier, went off, the sound piercing through the quiet night air. you glanced at the time.
midnight exactly.
percy releases you, thankfully. your arms were starting to strain. you lied about the muscle thing, he was pretty strong.
"c'mere," he says, picking up the box that he wrapped, the paper crinkling in the spots where his fingers were touching it. you sit next to him, feet dangling off the rooftop. he puts the box in your hands and you eagerly tear off the wrapping paper.
inside was a stunning multi-colored bracelet, with multiple chains and twists and turns that caught the light. you looked up at percy, who was already watching you. "i've been saving up," he says, his eyes downcast. "what do you think?"
you had to take a moment before responding. "i love it perce, really." you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring the way it glinted in the christmas lights. he even got it in your favorite color. "thank you."
he let out a sigh of relief, pulling up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching bracelet on his own wrist, but in blue. "good," he breathes, a small smile playing at his lips. "'cause if you didn't, then you'd have to see it everytime i held your hand, anyway."
you gape at him, then grin. you like the idea of having a piece of him with you, even when he was away. you reached up to cup his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "was this just an excuse for you to buy yourself a cool bracelet?" you tease.
percy shook his head, his smile growing. he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple, then took your hand in his, holding it up to the sky. the christmas lights around you seemed to glow brighter, illuminating the two of you. "one for me, one for you," he says, his voice low and warm.
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sughuru · 5 months
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seventh of december
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- gojo satoru x reader
Satoru was never one to celebrate his birthday. Matter of fact, he actually hated it. Except on three occassions.
genres/warnings: fluff, birthday fic, kinda rushed tbh, not proofread
notes: happy birthday gojo, i know you're alive pls come back :((( anyways enjoy, i kinda rushed this bc i still have some school stuff to do so i hope you guys understand! as always, english isn't my first language so pls excuse my grammatical and spelling errors
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The seventh of December. A date to remember, a date that will go down in history. This is because it was the day Gojo Satoru was born. Born into the renowned Gojo clan, he is the first in 400 years to possess both the Limitless and Six Eyes. However, that’s all they ever celebrated about. The seventh of December was the day the strongest sorcerer alive was born.
Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements.
All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions. 
The first birthday he ever genuinely enjoyed was celebrated with his high school friends, Suguru and Shoko.
Satoru checked his flip phone and noticed the endless SMS notifications from relatives to clan members he doesn’t even know the face of. He's well aware that these messages are only a formality, driven by respect and perhaps a tinge of fear. Deep down, he understands that some clan members harbor hatred at the fact that his parents were the ones to give birth to the next Limitless and Six Eyes user. He knows they all secretly pray for his downfall. Aside from that, if it wasn’t out of respect or fear, perhaps they wanted or needed something from him.
"Satoru," Suguru called to his friend, who was lost in thought on the sports court. Satoru looked up and acknowledged Suguru with a nod. In response, Suguru mouthed, "Come here," while waving him over.
The white-haired male walked towards Suguru, “hah? What’s this all about?”
Suguru brushed off his friend and kept walking, ignoring Satoru's attempts to get his attention. This annoyed Satoru even more. "Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!" Satoru whined in the most grating voice imaginable, prompting even Suguru to question why he was friends with him.
Suguru shot a glare at Satoru, “maybe if you just shut up and follow me, we’ll get there sooner.” 
"Why can't you tell me now? Where are we going? Wow, are you here to take me somewhere quiet and kill me there?" Satoru quipped with a sarcastic tone.
"If you don't stop asking questions, yeah," Suguru replied dryly. Satoru rolled his eyes but continued to follow his friend.
Before long, they arrived at their classroom. Suguru opened the door to reveal a sight that surprised Satoru— all their friends were inside wearing party hats. Even Nanami and Ijichi were there.
"Gojo!" Shoko waved excitedly at the tall male. Suguru grinned, saying, "Happy birthday, Satoru," as he patted his friend on the back. He then led Satoru into the room to join the celebration with their friends.
It was a simple birthday, really. Celebrated among friends and closed ones. Nevertheless, Satoru regarded it as one of his favorite birthday memories.
The following year, Suguru left, and once again, he hated his birthday. Shoko was there to celebrate with him but it wasn’t the same without Suguru. After all, the trio did everything together.
“Happy birthday.” Shoko hands him a bag of kikufuku picked up from a store down the street. Before he could thank her, she was already off to treat some first year who got injured on a mission.
Oh right, they’re third graders now. The final year and final step to being a true Jujutsu Sorcerer.
After Suguru left, Satoru met with two kids and took them in. Megumi and Tsumiki, aged five and eight, respectively. While Tsumiki was generally well-behaved, Megumi proved to be a bit troublesome due to his sharp wit and sarcastic nature. Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he had been similarly mischievous as a child.
The second time he enjoyed his birthday was when he went home that day.
“I’m home…?” He was about to call out the kids, but heard someone bustling in the kitchen. Kitchens clanging and the water running.
"Don't touch that, Gojo-san said we shouldn't use the stove!" Tsumiki warned.
"Well, how do we make something before he gets home then?" Megumi interjected.
"Should we just serve it like this..." Tsumiki examined the plate before her. Megumi deadpanned at his older sister, "A banana on a plate?"
“Shhh! I hear him coming!”
Satoru giggled to himself, hearing their whole conversation, he peeked in the kitchen, “woah, what did you guys do while I was gone?”
Tsumiki and Megumi froze before slowly turning around, “s-surprise!” the two said.
"Happy birthday, Gojo-san. Thanks for taking us in!" Tsumiki presented him with... a banana on a plate.
Satoru smiled, charmed by their efforts. "Aw, did you two prepare this for me?" He didn't want to hurt their feelings, and truthfully, he was genuinely touched by their gesture.
“We also have our own gifts too aside from the cake-” 
“Banana.” Megumi corrected.
Tsumiki was the first to present her gift to Gojo. "I hope you like these!"
As Satoru received the gift, he couldn't help but recall the evening a few weeks ago when Tsumiki had asked him to accompany her to get origamis, claiming it was for a school project. Little did he anticipate that those origamis were intended for him. Tsumiki had crafted a jar filled with meticulously folded paper stars, each one carefully placed inside.
Megumi was next, shyly handing Gojo a birthday card. "Happy birthday," he muttered, avoiding eye contact with Satoru. Satoru couldn't help but smile, affectionately ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Oh, you're so cute. Let's see what you drew, hm?"
Opening the card, Satoru observed that Megumi's handwriting had improved. The small card read, "Happy bday Gojo." It was evident that the boy hadn't quite figured out how to spell "birthday" yet.
Satoru promptly hung Megumi's card on the fridge door and placed the jar of stars in a cabinet alongside other souvenirs for display. "Thanks for making my birthday great, guys."
The trio gathered for a photo to commemorate the moment. In the picture, Megumi frowned at the camera while Satoru and Tsumiki beamed with smiles. To this day, that photo remains tucked in Satoru's wallet, a cherished reminder of his first celebrated birthday with the kids.
After hearing Shoko and Megumi's stories about how they used to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, you found yourself pondering how to surpass the efforts of those two. You bought a small cake from a local bakery shop recommended by Nanami.
“That girl was really nice, I should go visit again next time.” you muttered to yourself as you walked back home. 
Satoru shouldn’t be home for another hour so you got to work. You printed pictures of him in high school, his baby pictures, pictures of him and the kids, students, pictures of you two; you transformed them into small cake decorations. Carefully pasting each one onto a wooden stick, you inserted them into the cake.
"Babe, I'm home." Satoru tossed his keys onto the table and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Today was such a long day at work," he whined.
You kissed his cheek. "Aw, is my baby tired?" you cooed, to which he nodded and began smothering you with kisses.
"Well, I hope you're not tired of blowing out some candles." You handed him the small birthday cake adorned with pictures of his face. Satoru's eyes immediately lit up. "You did this all for me?" he exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Well, I know it doesn't compare to what Shoko and the kids did, but..." you started to say.
Satoru immediately cut you off, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "But it's perfect. No comparison needed. This is the best surprise, and it's all from you." He pulled you into a tight hug, expressing his gratitude and affection.
"I can't believe you went through all this trouble for me. You really know how to make a birthday special." Satoru continued, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.
"Come on, let's have some cake before I start crying from how sweet you are," Satoru teased, leading you over to the table.
As you both enjoyed the cake, adorned with those little memories on sticks, Satoru couldn't help but comment on each photo. "Ah, high school me, can't believe you found these. And look at Megumi's grumpy face, classic!" His laughter filled the room, creating an atmosphere of joy and celebration.
As the evening unfolded, you exchanged stories, shared laughs, and basked in the warmth of the moment. It might not have been as elaborate as previous celebrations, but the personal touch made it uniquely special. Satoru couldn't stop expressing his gratitude, making you feel that all the effort was more than worth it.
"There's one more thing," you said, leaving the table briefly and returning with a bag. "It's not the best, but..."
You handed him the bag, and as Satoru peeked inside, he found a red scarf carefully knitted by you. His eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers over the soft fabric.
"Did you make this?" he asked, with admiration in his voice. The warmth in his eyes showed just how much he appreciated the thoughtful gesture. "I love it, thank you." He wrapped it around his neck, a cozy addition to the perfect birthday surprise you had prepared for him.
The seventh of December. A date to remember, a date that will go down in history. This is because it was the day Gojo Satoru was born. Born into the renowned Gojo clan, he is the first in 400 years to possess both the Limitless and Six Eyes. However, that’s all they ever celebrated about. The seventh of December was the day the strongest sorcerer alive was born. Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements. All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions.
The first occasion was when Suguru surprised him with his friends. The second was when the kids, Megumi and Tsumiki, brought a touch of innocence and joy to the day, making it about connection and family.
And now, as the day came to a close, the third occasion unfolded. You, with your thoughtful surprises and genuine affection, turned a day usually marked by the weight of power into a celebration of love and connection. Satoru found something he hadn't expected — a day to cherish, not for his abilities, but for the people who chose to celebrate him simply for being him. Satoru no longer hates his birthday, and he looks forward to his upcoming birthdays.
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starlightkun · 7 months
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➠ word count: 22.0k ➠ warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking (there’s a frat party), everything i know about hockey is from internet research for this fic i’m sorry for any inaccuracies i tried ➠ genre: fluff, gets quite suggestive (a heavy makeout scene/near sex scene) but no actual smut, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), halloween-themed at the beginning, sungchan’s not a frat boy but he’s like... a frat boy by association ➠ extra info: the ages/relative ages of the members in here are whatever i want them to be, don’t read into it too much. this is a very usamerican take on a college au btw. also i call kunhang ‘hendery’ in here like it’s his government name for a one-line gag bc i think i’m hilarious the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines and thoughts/experiences as a chronically ill person are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines and chronic illness, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds ➠ author’s note: hi so this has been a wip for like a year lol. this one long predates sungchan’s deneofication (and subsequent re-debut in riize), hockey player sungchan just lives in my brain rent free ok. anyway, i hope you like ➠ series masterlist
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“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”
“Hard to forget,” you snorted.
“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”
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FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24
“Now shoo!” Dr. Son waved the small group of you out of his dimly lit office.
It was Phantasmagorical Phriday, a time-honored tradition going back to your freshman year of university. Dr. Son had been intrigued by the four freshmen who were somehow in his third-year class on Gothic Fiction and actually seemed to “get it.” His “Phantasma Phour” as you dubbed yourselves (a nickname that got quickly worn out, persisting only as the title of your groupchat):
Wong Hendery, who ended up in the class accidentally due to an error on his academic advisor’s part (she had gotten him mixed up with a Wong Henry, a junior Literature major who actually needed to take Dr. Son’s class) and he subsequently changed majors at least three times to your knowledge, so you were genuinely surprised he was graduating on time—he finally settled on Communications;
Jung Sungchan, at the time a promising young rookie hockey player who had now blossomed into your school’s reliable team captain—Biology major, being an athlete meant he could pre-register for classes and he picked Dr. Son’s at random to fulfill a gen ed Literature credit;
Zhong Chenle, an honorary member of both Nu Chi Tau, one of the biggest frats on campus, and the hockey team, as somehow 95% of his social circle were Nu Chi brothers and/or hockey players despite Chenle being neither himself, your best friend and also sometimes you swear a demon sent straight from hell to kill you—Literature major, who bullied you into taking the class; and
You, Chenle’s best friend who used to hate anything and everything Gothic fiction that got bullied into taking it anyway and now adored the genre more than any other—Literature major, who took the last spot in the class on registration day.
Dr. Son would invite you all to monthly extracurricular workshops in his office that built up to this: Phantasmagorical Phriday, a writing competition to see which of the four of you could write the best gothic short story. The stories were actually submitted the prior week, but it was the Friday before Halloween that was dubbed the Phriday in question. The four of you were invited to his office that night after classes (and Sungchan’s hockey practice) to review your pieces: how he thought everyone had improved from last year, discuss the writing process, and to finish off the night, Dr. Son would announce his top two stories. Those in the top two had the chance to send him a persuasive letter about why they should win. They had to be sent to him that night because the next morning, your professor would email the top two individually with the results.
Since this was your last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Dr. Son pretended not to see when Hendery brought out four celebratory White Claws for you all. You still had your warm, unopened, orange-flavored seltzer in your hand as the small group of you left the Literature, Writing, and Foreign Languages building together.
“I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anything classier for our last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Hendery.” You shook your head. “Ever heard of champagne? Literally any wine?”
“So you’re not gonna shotgun that, Y/N, is what I’m hearing?” Hendery teased as you all stopped under the light post right outside the building.
“Is that a challenge or what, Wong?” You scoffed, handing it back to him. “But no, I’m good.”
Sungchan thankfully cut in and changed the topic of conversation, “So are you going to start writing your letter of reconsideration, Y/N?”
This year’s top two were you and Sungchan, the member of the Phantasma Phour you spoke to the least. Outside of the monthly “workshops” (which at this point with your differing majors were just get-togethers of questionable academic value), you never saw him. You obviously saw Chenle all the time, and despite the fact that you considered him a bit obnoxious, you were sort of friends with Hendery, joining him for lunch if you happened to see him at the student union or at the coffee shop on campus. Sungchan was perfectly nice and all, you just found that you never really talked to him like the other two.
You looked down at your watch, taking a quick inhale when you saw the time. You’d stayed in Dr. Son’s office a lot later than you’d realized.
“Oh, no,” you casually waved off Sungchan’s question, readjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Anyway, see you guys. It was a good four years, I’m glad we got to do this.”
Lifting your hand in a wave of finality to the three men, you departed.
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“She’s really not going to submit a letter?” Sungchan asked, still watching after you as your figure faded away in the distance.
“Nope,” Chenle shook his head, reaching for the spare White Claw in Hendery’s hand. “Y/N never does.”
“You didn’t know that?” Hendery questioned the hockey player, holding the drink away from Chenle.
“Why not?”
“She’s not in it to win really.” Chenle lunged for the can as Hendery jerked it away at the last second. “Just wants to make stuff.”
“So she was lying about doing something?”
Hendery and Chenle were now running circles around Sungchan in their game of keep-away with the seltzer.
“No.”
“What do you—” Sungchan sighed, yanking the drink from Hendery’s grasp and holding it high above his own head, well out of either of their reaches. “Hey!”
Now with their attention, the hockey captain kept his arm straight up as he returned to his question, “What are you talking about, Chenle?”
“Y/N does have something pressing right now. If I tell you where she’s probably going will you give me the White Claw?” Chenle bargained.
“You’d exchange your best friend’s location for an orange White Claw? Not even watermelon?” Hendery asked incredulously.
“It’s Sungchan, someone we’ve known for like four years, not some creep off the street who’s going to wear her skin.”
“No, Chenle, you don’t have to tell me that,” Sungchan shook his head, offering the can out for either one to take.
The Literature major was able to snatch it first, jumping up in celebration, “Suck an egg, Hendery!”
“I wouldn’t—” Sungchan’s words were too late though, as Chenle had already popped the tab, and the overly-shaken seltzer exploded all over all three of them.
“Zhong Chenle, I’m going to strangle you, you little weasel!”
“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”
“I would, except you got fucking orange White Claw in my eyes and I’m fucking blind now! Goddamn!”
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SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25
Rolling over in bed the next morning, you let out a big sigh and buried your face in your pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep. Saturday morning. No school, no work. Just you, your bed, and some much-needed sleep.
Then, the obnoxious blaring of your phone came from your nightstand. You groaned, reaching blindly for the object, and barely opening one eye just enough to snooze it. Damn, you really had slept in, to be woken up by your first medication alarm. Well, you weren’t going to die if you took your morning doses fifteen minutes later than normal. You were about to stuff your phone under your pillow when you briefly caught sight of your lockscreen after the alarm disappeared.
Text notification from Jung Sungchan?
Flopping onto your back and bringing your phone with you, you squinted against the harsh light of your screen to make sure you were reading that right. Yep, Sungchan had definitely texted you a few hours ago, separate from the Phantasma Phour chat. At almost 7:00 a.m., too. What the hell?
Curiosity won out over a need to sleep for fourteen more minutes, and you opened the notification.
[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]
You stared blankly at the text, your groggy mind desperately grasping around for any sort of context as to why Jung Sungchan would be texting you that at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Then it struck you like lightning, and you let out an audible “Oh, duh!” as you remembered where you both were last night. Phantasmagorical Phriday. The writing contest. You and Sungchan were the top two. Dr. Son must have sent the email out already, and apparently you had won.
Normally, you wouldn’t check your school email on the weekend until Sunday night, unless you were waiting to hear back from a specific professor—and the Sunday night check was just to see if any of your Monday classes were cancelled. Lord knows you definitely wouldn’t have checked it at seven in the morning on a Saturday. You let out a snort of disbelief as you reread the timestamp on the text. But still, it was nice of him. A good show of sportsmanship, as one would expect from the hockey captain.
You quickly checked your own student email, and did in fact see an email from Dr. Son at the very top with the subject ‘PHINAL PHANTASMAGORICAL PHRIDAY RESULTS.’
‘Y/N and Sungchan:
Thank you again for your submissions. I enjoyed working with everyone these four years.
The winner this year is Y/N. Good job.
Dr. Son.’
An amused smile crept across your face at your professor’s usual blunt email style. But this was also some of the nicest feedback he’d given your writing, even when you had won Phantasmagorical Phriday in the past, or in classes that you’d taken from him over the years. Something about it truly did feel... final.
And so with an odd bittersweetness, you drafted an equally short and blunt email back to your professor.
‘Dr. Son:
Thank you for taking us on these past four years. I will never forget the experience.
Y/L/N Y/N.’
Then finally, you went back to the original reason that you were even doing this.
[you: thanks, sungchan!]
Then, your alarm went off again, making you jump out of your skin. Well, time for your morning meds.
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MONDAY, OCTOBER 27
A tall figure was nearing the corner table you had claimed in one of the campus coffee shops the following Monday afternoon, and you looked up from your laptop screen, a little surprised at who it was. Jung Sungchan was standing at the end of your table, black flannel over a graphic t-shirt and dark wash jeans, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He had an iced coffee in one hand.
You paused the movie playing on your laptop, taking out both your headphones as you looked up at him inquisitively, “Uh hi, Sungchan.”
“Hi, Y/N.”
“Are you here to study or something?”
“Mm.” He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Not really. Just grabbing a coffee and saw you. Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”
“Oh, sure. I’m waiting out the storm to leave,” you gestured to the near-constant downpour that had started right after you’d arrived over two hours ago. Noticing that some of Sungchan’s hair and shoulders were damp, you added, “The storm you apparently got caught in without an umbrella.”
“Oh, yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair to push some of it away from where it had been falling into his eyes.
“I don’t mind having some company while I wait.”
To your surprise, instead of sitting across from you, Sungchan plopped himself onto the same bench that you were on, one leg slung over either side so he could face you directly.
You picked up the mug in front of you, your second cup of your drink of choice. You’d gotten a refill after it became clear that the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Sungchan was already a third of the way done with his iced coffee as you blew over your hot drink before taking a small sip. He glanced up at you, and you felt like you were going to choke on the uncomfortable silence. So you took a gamble. Turning in your seat to face him as well, you hiked a knee up onto the bench, bringing your mug with you.
“Do you want to ask me something, Sungchan?”
The hockey player startled, having to catch himself from nearly choking on his coffee. Seems like you were right. Sungchan finally stopped sucking down his drink, setting it down on the table and wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans. “I heard that you never sent in a letter to Dr. Son. Any year you were a top two.”
“Oh, yeah, nah.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.
“What?”
“Every year I participated I wanted my work to stand on its own two legs. After the death of the author, that’s all that’s left, right? The work. It has to speak for itself.”
“Oh,” Sungchan nodded, then squinted his eyes, confusion entirely overtaking his features. “Wait, what?”
“Sorry, I don’t know how much Lit Theory you’ve done. Probably not a lot as a Bio major, huh? Death of the author is both literal and metaphorical. Removing what the author meant to do or say with a text from how you actually interpret the text as the reader. It’s a lot easier when they’re actually dead, but the abstract concept is practiced when they’re alive too. It’s… seeing the text as separate from authorial intent. Mind you, it’s only one tool in a literary critic’s arsenal, but I liked it for our Gothic fiction class. All the authors we read in that class, they’d been gone for a while, we had no way to know what they really meant when they wrote all that stuff. And it didn’t really matter for our purposes. All we did have was what they wrote, and that was enough for me. So the same should be enough for whoever reads the stuff I write. Even if it’s just Dr. Son.”
“Huh.”
“Though I guess I just explained myself a little, oops,” you laughed at yourself, taking another sip from your steaming mug. “I’m getting less and less mysterious by the second, aren't I?”
“Chenle made it sound like you didn’t care about winning,” Sungchan asked, cheek in hand.
You arched an eyebrow at this. “You asked Chenle about me?”
“W-Well you left so fast after we saw Dr. Son, and you two are you know...”
“Oh he’s my best friend,” you clarified for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in your life. “And while others may use any litany of swears for him and Hendery calls him a little weasel, I prefer ‘actual demon sent from Hell to kill me.’”
“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.
“He pushes me out of my comfort zone. In a good way, most of the time.”
“Got it. Then what do you do for him? If he’s your yang…”
“I’m entertainment?” You snorted, taking another sip of your drink. After setting it back down, you answered more sincerely, “I’m kidding. Sometimes it feels like that but I did ask him one time a couple years ago, when he was tipsy enough that I believed the words coming out of his mouth but not so drunk that it was unintelligible. ‘A safe place.’ And since then… I can see it in us. That’s my yin to him.”
He smiled softly at you. “That’s... really nice.”
“Sorry, what were you asking me before that?”
“Oh, uh— Chenle said you really didn’t care about winning Dr. Son’s contest, you just wanted to make stuff? That’s why you didn’t submit a letter.”
“Generally, sure. Winning would’ve been great, but I didn’t write what I thought Dr. Son wanted. I took all of his feedback with a grain of salt. Took stuff that I liked from him, took stuff I liked from other profs I had. Mixed and matched to make something that was mine.” You pressed your lips together, then leaned forward like you were about to tell him a secret, “I didn’t live for Phantasmagorical Phriday, Sungchan. You do know that, right?”
“Wow,” he blinked, seeming a bit disoriented. “I’ve never really thought about… you like that.”
“Well to be fair to you, you only ever knew me there and in Dr. Son’s class. Makes it hard not to think of me only through that lens. All you know about me is that I presumably like Gothic fiction and I’m a Lit major, right?”
“Right.”
“So what do you think I was doing here before you showed up?”
“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, turning your laptop screen to show the paused movie to him, “I was watching Pacific Rim.”
His jaw literally dropped, and you felt the need to save him at least a little. Grabbing a book from your bag, you held it up, “I did come here initially to finish reading this new mystery novel I just got, but then the storm came and I had nothing else to do after I was done with the book.”
“But still… you’re so…”
“I have interests outside the one class we took together?”
“Smart,” he finished, an absolutely adorable expression of wonder across his face.
You weren’t expecting that, surprised giggles bubbling up out of you as you felt yourself growing warm under his awestruck gaze.
“Anyway, your turn,” you tapped his knee with your book before putting it back in your bag.
“For what?”
“To expand my horizons of you. All I know about you is that you’re the hockey captain, and a Bio major who took a gothic fiction class one time like three years ago. Show me you’re a multifaceted individual, too.”
“Uhm, that’s about it.”
“Oh come on, Sungchan.”
“No really, if I’m not on the ice, I’m in class; if I’m not in class, I’m with my team; and if I’m not with my team, I’m studying.”
“You’re here, right now,” you pointed out. “Last I checked I’m not on your hockey team, and we’re not studying. You have to do one thing that’s not for school or hockey. My thing was just watching Pacific Rim this one time, remember?”
“Alright…” he paused to think, fingers tapping along his thighs. “I used to play the piano.”
“Past tense, but I’ll accept it. When did you stop?”
“High school? Around when piano lessons and hockey practice started conflicting.”
“And you chose hockey?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound judgmental. You really were just curious, trying to understand him.
“Actually, the choice was made for me.” He held his right hand out in front of you, and it was then that you saw his pinky finger was unnaturally crooked as he pointed to the digit. “I broke it in a game without even realizing it. Bruises and stiffness sometimes are normal so me and my parents didn’t know anything was up until weeks later when I was fucking up all the notes at my piano lessons because it still hurt. By the time I finally saw a doctor and got a splint on it, it set up wrong. All dexterity for piano out the window. Hockey on the other hand… guys have done a lot more with a lot less.”
You couldn’t help but curiously run a gentle fingertip over the crook in his pinky. “Does it hurt at all? Now?”
“Not really.” He went to bend and flex the fingers of his right hand, and you saw how the fifth finger didn’t curl up as much as the others. “It’s just a lot stiffer. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”
He brought his left hand up and wiggled the fingers on that hand. “Besides, I’m a lefty anyway.”
“So—apologies if this sounds like a stupid question to you, I don’t know anything about hockey—are there like, different hockey sticks for left-handed and right-handed players?”
Sungchan immediately broke into snickers, and you set down your mug to cross your arms over your chest indignantly.
“Hey, I didn’t laugh at you for not knowing what death of the author was—”
“I wasn’t making fun of you, I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth. “That was just… too cute. Uhm yes, there are lefty and righty sticks.”
You had to bite down your bottom lip to not smile at him calling you cute, and instead keep up your ruse of being offended. “I feel patronized.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was still a hint of a giggle in his tone, and you felt your self-righteous façade slip away as he continued, “You should come to a game, then, if you really want to broaden your horizons. The season just started. First home game is this Thursday, actually. 7:00 p.m. and students get free admission with your student ID.”
“Thursday?”
“Fridays are for basketball, Saturdays are for football.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You don’t go to those games either, do you?”
“Oh no, did I make it obvious?” You asked sarcastically.
“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.
Outside the window visible past Sungchan, the rain had let up a few minutes ago, and you briefly glanced over at your laptop for the time. Shit, your next alarm was going to be going off soon. If you left now, you should be home at roughly the right time for your next dose.
Clicking your tongue, you started packing up your things, “Well, looks like the rain’s finally let up enough to allow me safe passage. That’s my cue.”
“Oh.” The hockey player with you looked over his shoulder at the newly sunny day outside before turning back to watch you put your things away.
“Are you heading out too?” You nodded to his empty cup.
“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”
“Guess this is where we part ways then.”
“Um, you didn’t say if you were going. To the game.”
You tucked your chin to your chest to hide your smitten smile as you put your laptop in your bag. Typically just asking for the details would’ve been taken for a yes, but Sungchan wanted extra confirmation. This boy wasn’t good for your heart, truly.
Turning back to him, you gave him a firm and nearly business-like nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
A bright grin lit up his features. “Okay! Great! Uhm, feel free to bring some friends, I know just sitting in the stands by yourself might be lonely.”
“I’ll see if I can drag somebody else out. It’ll be a tall order, though. Literature majors, you know, we prefer our Shakesperean poetry readings.”
“Oh, well—”
“I’m kidding,” you laughed and stood then, slinging your tote onto your shoulder. “Honestly, have you seen Chenle at a rager? Boy can drink twice his body weight I swear. He shouldn’t, but he can.”
Before you could reach for your cup and saucer to buss your place, the hockey captain spoke up, “I’ll take care of your mug, don’t worry.”
“Oh, thanks, Sungchan! I’ll see you Thursday then.”
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“Bye…” Sungchan trailed off, watching the door long after it had closed behind you.
He didn’t actually have any homework to do, and scrolled on his phone for a few minutes to make sure you were out of the area before leaving himself. He grabbed his long-empty plastic cup and your mug. His went in the trash, and as he went to put yours up with the other dishes and trays, his eyes were caught by the iridescent glitters left behind on the rim by your lip gloss.
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[you: hey what are you doing thursday at 7:00?]
[chenle: depends on what weird poetry reading you’re trying to drag me to]
[you: not this time. Sungchan’s hockey game?]
[chenle: you want to go to a sporting event?? why????]
[you: i told him i’d go please don’t make me go by myself]
[chenle: did you offer to go or did he ask you to come?]
[you: he asked me to? i guess?]
[chenle: haha yeah fuck no i’m not going with you]
[you: why not????????]
[chenle: a guy invited you to one of his games? yeah no way am i coming with you]
[you: what difference does that make? you’re seriously going to make me go to a hockey game by myself?]
[chenle: i don’t know how to tell you this gently so: he wants to fuck you]
[you: bro???]
[chenle: especially hockey? caveman brain is activated, he wants to show off how big and strong he is for you over the other males]
[you: damn can’t believe i just blinked and woke up in 200 BC]
[chenle: i’m warning you, only go if you’re ready for the consequences. i.e., that]
[you: so you’re not coming with me]
[chenle: no <3]
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THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30
Your chronically early self had gotten there as soon as the doors opened to spectators in order to scope out the perfect spot for yourself. Somewhere not too close to any speakers, where you could still see what was going on, hopefully somewhere Sungchan could maybe see you, but you could make a quick escape if need be. A lot of parameters, hence the need to be early. That meant that you got to watch the visiting team warm up first, and now your school’s team was warming up before the game. Finally the stands started filling up, and you had to do a double-take at the newest figure entering.
“Zhong Chenle, you lying little bitch!” You cursed out your best friend who was approaching you.
He immediately went to defend himself as he plopped down beside you, “Look, I told you I wasn’t going with you, not that I wasn’t going at all. Come on, Lit major.”
He finished off with a solid knock on your head, which didn’t hurt all that much through the beanie you were wearing, but you still slapped his arm away with a glare.
“Are you sure you want to live until graduation day? I can’t tell sometimes.”
“Half the team are Nu Chi guys,” Chenle explained his being there, then waved at one of the players skating by, 23, who gave a salute back. “Jeno.”
“Oh.” You belatedly waved too, but your friend had already turned back to warming up.
Chenle then gave you the run-down on all your friends and acquaintances’ numbers as he spotted them.
“Goalie. Sicheng, 7.” He just blocked a shot from a familiar number, 23. “Already told you, 23 is Jeno. Right wing.”
“Does he always suck?”
“Here’s Ten, number 10. Right defense. He’s never told me which came first, his nickname or his jersey number.”
Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.
“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.
“66, Donghyuck, center alternate.” His also went in.
“24, that’s Yangyang, left wing—and a miss!”
“This doesn’t bode well that so many of our players apparently kind of suck.” You muttered to yourself, well aware that Chenle was no longer listening to you.
Finally, the tallest of the team was skating up to take a shot. “And there’s your guy, Y/N. Number 27, Jung Sungchan, left defense, captain, your dreamboat—”
“If you don’t shut up—”
“Oh! All net!”
“Isn’t that a basketball—”
“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”
“Yep, same ones for concerts,” you confirmed, reaching into your purse for them. You hadn’t been able to take your full tote bag into the school sporting event, so you had to condense the essentials into your smaller purse.
“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”
“I figured.”
“Yeah, remember how half the team are Nu Chi guys?”
Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”
“Here they come!”
Whipping around to face the same direction he was looking, you saw a horde of about ten to fifteen guys storming the rink, practically shaking the audience section. They were all donned in blue and orange, your university’s colors, various hockey or Nu Chi merch and paraphernalia, and you would’ve absolutely bet money that at least three of them had Nu, Chi, and Tau symbols painted across each of their chests under their shirts. Chenle leapt up to greet them all, the volume of the area immediately rising tenfold at least.
You recognized most of the Nu Chi frat brothers, they were mutual friends or acquaintances of yours through Chenle over the years, and there were even some familiar graduated faces. Lee Taeyong was the first to pick up on your presence, squeezing past Jisung—a new pledge that had glommed onto Chenle in particular—to plop down behind your seat.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Taeyong asked you with a tilted head. “Not exactly a good place for you, is it?”
Taeyong was frat president for your first two years of college and his last two. You had an absolute disaster at a Nu Chi party in your freshman year that he was witness to. Ever since then, when you would see him in passing at other lowkey (or as lowkey as frat functions could get) Nu Chi events that Chenle took you to during those two years, you always got the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on you during them.
“Could be asking you the same thing, Taeyong,” you countered, fully turning around in your seat to chat with the man. “Didn’t you graduate two years ago? You don’t have anything better to do on a Thursday night? Like your taxes or something?”
“Us old-timers who peaked in college like to come back and re-live our glory days vicariously for the first home game,” he entertained your jibe, making you giggle. “And somebody’s got to be these kids’ DD. They always go at it too hard after the first game. Win or lose.”
Johnny, another graduated Nu Chi brother, spoke up then, eyes laser-focused on you, “So Chenle’s finally dragged you out to a game, Y/N?”
You immediately looked at your friend with wide eyes, knowing what the answer was, and exactly what reaction said answer would garner. Chenle, on the other hand, seemed all too thrilled to join in, turning to face you with his hands on his hips and a knowing smirk on his face.
“Oh no, I didn’t bring Y/N. She actually didn’t know I was coming at all. I found her here all on her own,” he announced to all the guys, who were hanging on to every word he said. If literally anything else were happening, you might’ve laughed at how they were all wrapped around his finger.
“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re interested in hockey,” Jungwoo, a junior who you’d shared a couple literature classes with, said curiously.
You sighed, giving Chenle a frank look before admitting, “Jung Sungchan invited me.”
They exploded with various hoots, hollers, whoops, and whistles.
With a shake of your head, you turned back around to look back at the players on the ice, knowing full well that there was nothing you could do alleviate—or even really participate in—the absolute chaos that was happening behind you.
Eventually, the game started. Taeyong, who had moved to sit on your other side from Chenle, quietly explained the basics of what was going on to you: positions, plays, scoring, why the referee made certain calls. Chenle was caught between cheering along with the other Nu Chi guys and rattling off hyper-specific stats on individual players to you, so you were truly grateful to have Taeyong giving you your “hockey for dummies” tips and tidbits throughout.
You kept your eyes on number 27, as Chenle had pointed him out to you earlier. The gear made it somewhat difficult for you to really recognize any distinguishing features about Sungchan himself except maybe his height, made even greater by the skates he was wearing. But as much as the intellectual side of you might’ve hated to admit it, there was definitely some part of you that very much enjoyed watching him play; that got some kind of thrill every time somebody tried to check him and he didn’t budge—or when he checked somebody and they most definitely did budge.
Before you knew it, all three periods were over, and you were jumping to your feet along with the others, cheering wildly. Your school won by a landslide.
“Oh, they’re going to get plastered,” Taeyong murmured from beside you fondly.
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All of you had been in the cheering section milled around in the ice rink lobby waiting for the team to get out of the locker room.
“That was fun,” you declared to Chenle as the two of you stood off to the side from the larger group of loud Nu Chi brothers.
“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were listening to a word I said.”
“Because you were telling me sports stats, Chenle, I’m surprised my brain didn’t start bleeding out of my ears.”
“Well I’m surprised your nose wasn’t bleeding watching your dreamboat Jung Sungchan beat up all those other guys,” Chenle teased. “200 BC called, they want their cavewoman back—”
You lunged at him, managing to get an arm around his throat in the beginnings of a questionably friendly chokehold, “I’m going to kill you, you little—”
“No murder in the rink!” Came the chastising voice of Johnny Suh from afar, and you reluctantly let him go.
The players started streaming out of the locker room soon after, and you nervously scanned the crowd for Sungchan. Chenle was easily dragged into the chaos of everyone celebrating, leaving you standing off to the side waiting.
Finally, you spotted him. Sungchan was wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and black hoodie with your school’s name embroidered across the front, his hair a bit mussed up. He was deep in conversation with Sicheng, brow furrowed. The goalie’s features were similarly serious as they gestured to each other. You stayed put, not wanting to interrupt. Taeyong had mentioned that Sicheng was sort of like a co-captain, you guessed they might be doing something important.
Then you’d suddenly made eye contact with Sicheng, who was facing you. He gave you a casual head nod, and said something to Sungchan you couldn’t quite make out. The captain whipped around, a bright smile coming to his face as soon as his eyes landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a small wave and smile back.
Sungchan quickly ended his conversation with Sicheng, making his way over to where you were standing by a wall.
“Hey, Y/N,” he was still smiling down at you, his eyes practically glittering even in the harsh fluorescents of the lobby. “So you really made it out.”
“I said I would.” You fidgeted with the straps of your bag.
“And…?”
You tilted your head, “And?”
“What did you think? You know, are your horizons super broad now or something?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. His phrasing was funny, but also remembering how he played and was now giving you his undivided attention admittedly made your chest flutter.
“It was good, yeah. I had fun,” you confirmed. “You uhm, you played really good. I think.”
“Thanks,” Sungchan scratched at the back of his neck, and you swore the tips of his ears were pink, but that could’ve just been the cold. “Did you drive yourself?”
“Walked, my apartment is close.”
“Uh, so, we all go out to a bar after games usually. It’s kind of a sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday, but I’d really like for you to come. I’ll buy you a dr—”
“I’m really sorry, Sungchan, but I can’t. I’d love to, but…” You trailed off, wracking your brain for some concise way to explain why he couldn’t buy you a drink.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sungchan assured you, and you winced at the way the hopeful smile fell from his face.
An awkward silence descended over the two of you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, desperately trying to think of something to say to gloss over your rejecting his offer. You didn’t want to end the conversation on such a sour note, nor did you want to leave him just yet either. Stealing a glance at the clock above you on the wall, however, you knew that you’d need to be going soon anyway.
The hockey player was the one who ended up breaking the silence, “Can I walk you home? It’s late for you to be out by yourself.”
A relieved smile overtook your features, and you hoped he could see the sincerity in it, “Sure, thank you. Let me let Chenle know he’s relieved of his man-shaped friend duties for the night, and we can go.”
You got on your tiptoes to look around for your friend, finally spotting him in a headlock by Jeno, with Yangyang giving him a noogie. They all seemed to be laughing, so it didn’t look too much like bullying that you felt the need to intervene.
“You know, I’ll just text him, actually,” you chuckled, bringing out your phone to do just that.
“Man-shaped friend duties?” Sungchan questioned as the automatic doors parted for the two of you.
“His words, not mine,” you snorted. “But you know, making sure a woman doesn’t walk places by herself at night, that kind of stuff. Having a man just with her makes her safer, as fucked up as that is. Chenle corrected it to be man-shaped since he’s not the manly protective type.”
“I see.”
“But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties for tonight, Sungchan.”
As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to stuff them back in. Friend. God, that was absolutely not what was happening here and you knew it. Chenle’s previous texts flashed across your mind. You obviously knew why Sungchan would’ve wanted to invite you to his game, and you said yes purposefully. Friend. Foot, meet mouth.
Sungchan blinked down at you, but seemed to take it in stride, “Of course, Y/N. Anytime you need a man-shaped person at your side, just call me up. I’ll bring my hockey stick.”
He patted his gear bag that was slung over his shoulder, making you giggle.
“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”
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It was a short walk to your apartment, and you and Sungchan mostly talked about the game. You asked him a couple questions that Taeyong hadn’t covered during it— which Chenle might’ve, except you had tuned him out. And as you came to a stop at your front door, you didn’t yet fish your keys from your bag.
“How often do you have away games?” You asked.
“They’re usually about half,” Sungchan shrugged. “It’s a bit annoying missing classes, and the bus is kind of rank on the trip back.”
“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.
“But they’re always a lot of fun.”
“So, uhm, when’s your next home game?”
His face brightened as he seemed to realize what exactly you were asking, “Next week. Same time.”
“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.
“Cool,” he echoed.
You looked up at Sungchan, catching his eyes for a heart stopping moment. Both of you were standing on your welcome mat, he was close enough that you could catch a faint whiff of the detergent from his clothes—a college athlete with freshly washed clothes? You might already be in love—and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. You had the urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him—
A garish, blaring ringing going off interrupted your split-second pros and cons weighing that had been going on. Sungchan startled at the noise, reminding you very much of a baby moose in the moment. You groaned as you reached into your bag for your phone.
“Oh my god, stop it,” you hissed under your breath as you snoozed the alarm that was going off on there. Once it was quiet, you looked back up at the man with you sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”
He joked, “Curfew?”
You laughed lightly, “No, just a reminder for something I have to do after I get home. It’s fine.”
“Well, before you go do that, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Nu Chi and the team are hosting a joint Halloween party this year, and I’d really like it if I could see you there.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow, people will probably start showing up after like ten, eleven. It’s at the Nu Chi house, theirs is bigger than ours.”
“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.
“I know this is last minute, so I get if you have other plans or something.”
“I… can probably swing by for a bit, yeah,” you nodded.
“Great!” Sungchan beamed. “Oh, it is a costume party, by the way.”
“Costume?” You arched a brow. “What’ll you being going as? And please don’t say hockey player.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “Definitely not… that would be lame…”
“You were planning on going as a hockey player, weren’t you?”
“Me and Mark have been putting all our spare time into planning this thing, I haven’t had any time to think about a costume.”
“Well you’ve given me 24-hour notice for a costume, so this is your 24-hour notice for one too. When I find you at the Nu Chi house tomorrow, I do not want to see a hockey jersey, Jung Sungchan. Any sports player is off-limits, understand?” You poked his chest with finality.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.
Just then, your alarm went off again, and this time you jumped out of your skin. Apparently, another 5 minutes had elapsed. With a sigh, you reached into your bag for your keys.
“I should let you go do that thing,” Sungchan chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Sungchan,” you unlocked your front door. “See you tomorrow.”
Sitting at your kitchen table a couple minutes later, you were looking down at the vitals displayed on the screen of your blood pressure cuff.
“Jung Sungchan…” you muttered to yourself as you added the reading to your digital record, noting how the line graph jumped up with the new data.
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FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31
“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. You two were grabbing a quick lunch between classes, and doing an obligatory catch-up on how your short but sweet walk with Sungchan went last night. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”
“Hard to forget,” you snorted.
“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”
You threw a fry from his plate at him, “It wasn’t like that!”
He ducked, letting it sail by his head and hit the wall behind him.
“Then what was it like?”
“It was more like a big puppy that I couldn’t say no to and—”
You were cut off by loud gagging noises from your friend, and went to kick him under the table, but missed and hit his chair leg instead. He still got the message, quieting down to let you continue.
“I told him I’d be able to just pop in for a bit. I’ll be in and out before it’ll get too bad.”
“Famous last words...”
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“Hold on, LeLe,” you grabbed your friend’s arm to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the Nu Chi Tau frat house.
Taking another look into your tote bag, you made sure once again that you had everything you could possibly need tonight. Medications, snacks, water bottle, ear plugs, the usual. After closing the snaps on the bag, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your costume. Generic witch, it was the last thing the costume store had in your size that wasn’t garishly scary. You understood well and good how college Halloween parties worked: you had to look hot, not terrifying. Not to mention that those horror show costumes were also much pricier than your “Sexy Witch” one.
“You look cute, Y/N,” Chenle reassured you, readjusting your witch hat for you. “Jung Sungchan won’t know what hit him.”
Chenle, on the other hand, was an almost scarily realistic zombie. If you hadn’t spent an ungodly amount of time hanging out on his bathroom counter this afternoon watching him apply the SFX makeup himself, you would’ve thought he had hired a professional makeup artist to do it. He’d always gone ham on Halloween since you two were kids, ever since he figured out how to make a Transformers costume out of cardboard boxes in primary school. You usually participated in partner costumes with him, but you really didn’t want him to make you a gross-looking zombie tonight.
“Thanks.” You gave him as confident a smile as you could muster.
Resecuring your grip on your go bag, you started up the walkway to the house with your friend.
You had been able to faintly hear the thumping bass of the music from outside, but once inside, you were almost immediately hit by a wall of music. Just inside the front door you were faced with a mass of people in bright costumes, flashing lights, corny Halloween decorations of cobwebs, spiders, ghosts, and pumpkins all over the walls.
Chenle looked over at you expectantly, “Y/N?”
“I couldn’t find my concert earplugs, only my noise canceling. I won’t be able to hear anybody unless they’re shouting at me if I put those in,” you replied, having to raise your voice to make sure he heard you. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay…” He sighed and grabbed your elbow. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot in the house then.”
You gave him a thumbs up and bright grin, already feeling your ears acclimate to the loudness. You could totally do this. It was one night, and you were just going to see Sungchan for a bit then go. Pop in then back out, just like you said.
You didn’t have to wait long to spot Sungchan. Chenle had barely tugged you into the next room over from the small foyer when a familiar head was visible over the crowd, his bright smile focused on you.
“Hey, Y/N!” Sungchan grinned down at you. He was dressed in a suit and tie, what you were guessing was probably his only set, and his hair was parted to one side, styled off of his face. The tie had already been loosened, and the tuck of his dress shirt wasn’t so crisp.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled up at him, amazed that you could hear anything over both the music and now your heart beating so loudly in your ears.
“So you did find a costume.”
“Oh, yeah,” you messed with the hem of your skirt. “Last one at the shop.”
“You look great.” He was still beaming down at you, and you could feel your skin growing warmer. “I’m really glad you could make it.”
“Thanks. Uhm, so what are you? Funeral director?”
“What? No, I’m—” His sentence stopped in its tracks as he looked down at the front of his suit jacket. He started patting his empty breast pocket, then other jacket pockets, then pants pockets, then looked around on the floor. “Fuck.”
“What?” You looked around under your feet, but weren’t able to see anything other than the usual party debris. “Did you lose something?”
Sungchan looked back up at you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was about to say that I’m Mulder from the X-Files. But I’ve apparently lost my fake FBI badge. So it looks like I’m a funeral director now.”
You giggled. “Maybe you can be Mulder when he retires and buys a funeral home.”
“Yeah, the perfect costume. Won’t take too long to explain to anybody, they’ll get it immediately,” he laughed.
“Hey, I’m just glad you didn’t wear a jersey.”
“I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”
“Oh, have you seen Chenle’s makeup by the—” But when you turned around to gesture to your friend, you found that he had disappeared, leaving you and the hockey captain all alone.
“Chenle?” Sungchan asked with a tilted head. “I didn’t even realize he was here yet.”
You shook your head fondly at your friend’s antics. Well, you’d have to thank him later.
“He must have gone to get a drink or something. Either way, it seems I’ve been abandoned.”
“Well, you can come hang out with me and some of the guys, if you want?” He offered.
“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, readjusting your bag to make sure it was pulled in tight to your body.
Sungchan led you through the frat house with a hand on the small of your back, and you snuck a glance up at him when he went to greet someone who had called his name as you passed by. He kept you tucked into his side as he slowed to give the guy a friendly slap on the shoulder. As soon as Sungchan had stopped to say hello, two more people appeared seemingly from nowhere, eagerly greeting him as well. You faintly recognized one, Jisung, a new Nu Chi pledge. He’d been at the hockey game you went to, and always found Chenle at Nu Chi events that you tagged along to. You looked up at Sungchan’s animated, handsome face again as he continued talking.
“This is Y/N.” Sungchan’s voice suddenly pulled you into the conversation. You snapped your focus down from his face to the other three that were in front of you, and realized that they all definitely knew that you’d been staring.
“Oh, hi.” You gave the three boys a nervous smile.
“Y/N, this is Jisung, Shotaro, and Renjun. Jisung and Shotaro are Nu Chi pledges, Renjun’s a sophomore brother, and he’s—you’re a Literature major, right, Renjun?”
“Yes.” One of them nodded.
“Renjun’s a Literature major too, Y/N,” Sungchan finished the introduction.
“Cool, cool,” you nodded. It had been Shotaro that called Sungchan over in the first place, you were pretty sure.
“Anyway, thanks for the offer, guys, but I already promised Hyuck I would, so we’ve got to go.”
Sungchan ushered you away to the tune of a chorus of disappointed groans from the three boys, and you wracked your brain to see if you could recall hearing any sort of proposition from them. But nope, between the loud music and your prior lack of attention to the conversation, you had nothing.
“What did they want?” You gave up and finally asked Sungchan.
“Beer pong. Hope you don’t mind that I declined. I’ve already had a couple and am not looking to get wasted quite yet.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” you shook your head. Thank god you didn’t have to deal with that yet. “Not really my thing anyway. Terrible hand-eye coordination.”
Sungchan seemed about to say something when someone walked by you with an exceptionally pungent cologne. The whiff shot directly to your head like a bullet, the sharp pain making you wince and hiss. It took everything in you not to cover your nose like Edward Cullen and instead shift to breathing through your mouth for a few moments.
“Y/N? You okay?” Sungchan’s voice was clearly concerned.
The sharp pain was gone just a couple moments after it had registered, and you opened your eyes up again, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, don’t know what that was.”
“Okay, good.” He squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to your back and continuing your trek through the Nu Chi house.
You and Sungchan finally made it to a room adjacent to the main living room, where there were a couple of beat-up old couches and lots of Nu Chi Tau paraphernalia. The bass of the music playing in the next room over would occasionally make the picture frames and plaques on the walls rattle, and you could hear every word of the songs crystal clear, even though the room that you were in was packed to the brim with partygoers as well. Sungchan stopped you at a group of people gathered around one of the couches, tapping the shoulders of two of them who had their backs to you. Donghyuck and Hendery turned around, immediately parting to make room for the both of you in the group upon seeing you.
Almost everyone in the group was familiar to you either as friends or acquaintances. Your social circle was big thanks to Chenle, who was friends with practically the entire hockey team and Nu Chi house, despite being a member of neither. But now you didn’t have your best friend at your side, just Sungchan and your tote bag, both of which you were keeping close to you.
“Oh shit, Y/N!” Hendery grinned, pulling you into a one-armed hug of greeting. “Damn, it really is you!”
“Yeah, I’m a witch, not a ghost, Hendery,” you retorted jokingly. He was dressed as Prince Eric, if you weren’t mistaken.
“Well, when Sungchan said you were coming, some of us were a bit... skeptical.”
Someone dressed as Venom cut in from Hendery’s other side sharply, “No, I believe you said ‘never in a million fucking years, loverboy.’”
The rest of the group erupted in tipsy snickers and ‘ooh’s, and you felt Sungchan jostle a little as someone had presumably given him a teasing shove.
“Alright, guys. You can cut it out now,” Sungchan spoke over them authoritatively. He then looked down to you, features softening. “Sorry. Anyway, this is Donghyuck, he’s on the team and in Nu Chi—”
He pointed to the boy right next to him, wearing a very classic vampire costume splattered with a little bit of fake blood or fruit punch (you couldn’t tell in the poor lighting), and you wondered if he had also gone to a Halloween store last-minute like you. You knew him both from the game, and from a couple times you’d seen him with Chenle outside of frat or hockey events.
“Mark, frat president and he’s on the hockey team—” He was next to Donghyuck, dressed as Spiderman. You were already familiar with Mark, both from the game, and a group project in a class last year. You wondered if Mark remembered that.
“Ten, hockey and Nu Chi—” Ten was reclined on the couch, a top hat that had presumably been on his head earlier now resting on his propped up knee. Between that and his eyepatch, he clearly was dressed as some character that you couldn’t identify in the moment. You knew Ten outside of hockey, the frat, or even Chenle. He was a Lit major, so you had shared classes and study groups over the years. He raised a friendly hand in greeting.
“Sicheng, my co-captain and he’s in Nu Chi, too—” He was on the couch with Ten, sequestered to one corner as his teammate was taking up most of the space with his legs. Sicheng was dressed up as an angel, fake wings, little halo, and all. And you knew Sicheng through Ten, they’d been roommates since freshman year and could often be found together around campus. He gave you a nod of familiarity.
“Dejun, Nu Chi—” Sungchan had finally reached the man who was dressed as Venom.
“And you of course, unfortunately, know Hendery, Nu Chi.”
“Oh, boo, Sungchan,” Hendery stuck his tongue out at the captain.
You smiled and nodded a little bit at everyone else, but you were finding it hard to concentrate with the music in the background. Did it really need to be that loud?
“Y/N?” The sound of your name snapped your focus up, and you looked around for the source.
A few of the guys had gone back to their own conversations. Sungchan was looking down at you, head tilted inquisitively. Presumably he had been to the one to say your name.
“Oh, sorry,” you tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it was getting harder and harder to even articulate yourself with all the stimulation. “The music...”
“Oh!” Sungchan perked up at this. “Do you want to go dance?”
He was offering a hand out to you, and you stared down at it, mouth opening and closing as your brain felt like it was moving through sludge. You quite literally could not process what that string of words actually meant for a good second, and then it took even longer for you to even tie together the right way for you to respond. Cognitive fatigue. Oh this was not good. You squeezed your eyes shut, then open.
You again gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m kind of light-headed right now. Could you get me something to drink?”
His features immediately turned concerned. “Of course. Do you need to sit down or a ride h—”
“Can you just get me a drink?” Your brain was stuck in a perpetual loop now that it had locked onto one task. It took all of your energy just to regulate your tone enough to keep your voice (hopefully) as sweet as possible, despite the fact that you had cut him off.
“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed your upper arm reassuringly before taking off.
Your eyes were fixated on the spot where he had just been, your vision seeming to continuously zoom in and past your head. Squeezing your eyes shut once more, you took a deep breath through your mouth to try to recenter yourself. But it didn’t help any. Your head felt like a balloon that someone was overinflating, and you knew exactly what was coming next. You swallowed thickly, taking a second to look through the crowd. Nope, you couldn’t wait for Sungchan. Not like you could even verbalize much of anything right now. You had to go take your medication.
So you hurried into the crowd, clutching your tote bag to your chest like your life depended on it—which it really did. Mumbling ‘excuse me’s to everyone you shouldered, bumped into, or stepped on the toes of, you finally made it to a door that you were pretty sure was a bathroom. You tried the handle first, and when it gave in, you still knocked as you opened it, just in case. It was miraculously empty. Maybe there really was a God. Then, the balloon started to deflate, the pressure in your head inverted, becoming a harsh, squeezing pain instead. Nope, nope, definitely not a God. Or at least not a benevolent one.
You locked the door behind you with clumsy fingers and shuffled over to the sink. The countertop was in good enough condition for you to toss your bag up there and start rooting around through it. Bottle after bottle after bottle, then you finally secured the right two. You shook out a pill from one, then a pill from the other. The lights above the mirror were becoming more insufferable by the second. You cracked open the fresh bottle of water you had stored in your bag too, and knocked both pills back in one big gulp.
Tossing the water back into your bag, you could fucking finally flip the switch and turn the lights in the bathroom off. After feeling your way along the wall, you eventually found the bathtub, and sat yourself down. The music was somewhat muffled in here, and you figured this was going to be the darkest room in the whole Nu Chi house. Right now, your plan was to wait in here for your medication to kick in and hopefully stop this migraine before it really got going. Then you could make your great escape, and send Sungchan some bullshit apology text later. After tossing your witch hat to the ground vaguely beside your bag, you gently rested your head against the cool tile of the shower with a sigh. Chenle was right, you shouldn’t have come. Cynically, you thought that you should have timed it. See how long you lasted before you got a migraine. You’d be surprised if that was even 15 minutes.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
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Sungchan returned to the group with your requested drink in hand and another for himself, frowning when he immediately noticed your absence. “Hey, where’d Y/N go?”
“Oh, shit, uh…” Mark looked around with a baffled look on his face. “No clue dude, she was just here a second ago.”
“I’m going to go find her. Here.” He shoved both drinks into Hendery’s hands.
“Sungchan, come on, take a hint, man,” Donghyuck sighed, patting the taller boy’s shoulder sympathetically.
“What?”
“She asked you to get her something to drink and then slipped away when nobody was looking.”
“Y/N’s not like that.”
“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”
“No, she hasn’t been feeling well all night. I think. I’m going to go look for her.”
“So you’re admitting that you make her physically ill.”
“Dude, you’re just asking to get your shit rocked, you know that, right?” Ten warned him.
“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”
Mark cut him off, “Hyuck, you’re on your own if Sungchan decides to fuck your shit up. I don’t care if you’re my little, I’m not—”
“Oh, wahhh, my big strong big won’t protect me.”
“Christ, I swear he’s only had like four shots and a couple…”
His friends’ voices quickly faded into the din of the party as Sungchan pushed through the crowd. He couldn’t spot you, but found maybe the next best thing.
“Hey, Chenle.” He grabbed him by the elbow, turning him away from the arm wrestling competition between Jeno and Yangyang that he was spectating. Or, he at least hoped this was Chenle, it was a bit hard to tell with the zombie makeup.
“Hey, Romeo!” Chenle greeted him jovially, punching him in the shoulder over-zealously. Okay, definitely him.
“Have you seen Y/N? In the past like, five minutes or so?”
“You lost her?” The zombie asked angrily, cheerful mood immediately soured.
“Uh, yes? Sorry?”
“No, I’m not pissed at you,” he shook his head at Sungchan’s apology. “You go check the bathrooms, I’ll look outside. Don’t bother calling her, she’s not going to pick up.”
“What’s—”
But Chenle was already gone.
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You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting in there for, but you could feel some of the overstimulation from the party beginning to slide off of you. Which could be either a good or bad thing. Cognitive fatigue was usually a prodrome and postdrome for you. Regaining some clarity could either mean that your medication was working and the migraine was going away, or you were about to enter the proper migraine phase. The fact that the pain hadn’t gone away was worrying. But at least it was dark, and relatively quiet. Oh, quiet... you could put in your earplugs now too.
Just as you had gone to grab for your bag, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You froze. Shit.
“Occupied!” You yelled out hesitantly to them, wincing at the loudness of your own voice. Okay, ow.
The person knocked again, harder.
“Seriously! Busy in here! Puking my brains out!” You yelled even louder, hoping they got the fucking idea this time. There was no way you wanted to have to actually get up and deal with a drunk partygoer that needed to piss and/or puke.
“Y/N? That you?” A familiar voice came through the door. “It’s Sungchan, can I come in?”
“Oh, sure, hold on.” You clambered out of the tub as carefully as you could in the dim lighting coming from under the door.
Against your better judgment, you turned one set of lights on in the bathroom, then cracked the bathroom door open. Sungchan was in fact on the other side, and you stepped back to let him in. He looked around the bathroom, worry on his face.
You shut the door behind him, saying sheepishly, “So, I was lying about the puking my brains out.”
“But you don’t look okay.” He peered down at your face as you were still wincing against the bright lights. “You didn’t drink anything tonight, what’s wrong?”
You went to sit on the side of the tub, feeling a pain in your eyes now. You gestured to the light switch. “Can you turn that light off?”
“Uh, okay…” He obliged, and the room was dim once again.
Your eyes adjusted quickly, and you could still see the general outline of everything in the room. Sitting back in the tub, you pulled your knees to your chest. Well, no chance for your great escape now. Sungchan climbed into the dry tub with you, facing you. He didn’t fit great in the small space, all gangly limbs, and your knees bumped into each other. But he sat there with you quietly.
“I’ve got a migraine coming on, I had to get somewhere quiet and dark and take my meds.” You told him bluntly, opting to just take the plunge. Not like you could even attempt flowery language at the moment anyway. Sure, some of your speech capabilities were coming back now that there was less sensory input, but you weren’t going to be doing any soliloquies tonight.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sungchan said quietly. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, no. I actually- I actually don’t want to be alone right now, if that’s okay?” You surprised yourself with your answer.
“Yeah, of course.” He said reassuringly. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“I might not have drank but you did. I’ll be okay here, for the most part. I’m the one who came knowing that I get sound-induced migraines.”
“Wait, really?”
“Mm, yeah,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the tension there for a moment. “Remember when I said Chenle pushes me out of my comfort zone in a good way most of the time?”
“Right.”
“One of the times it wasn’t... good was when he got an invite to Nu Chi’s Halloween party our freshman year, dragged me with him. And he always means the best when he does stuff like that. I hadn’t made any new friends at college, meanwhile he had a bunch, including some of the pledges at Nu Chi.”
“How he got the invite.”
“Exactly.” You needed to take a pause, resting your head against the cool tile again. After a few deep breaths, you pushed on in the story. “Anyway, we’d been there for a couple hours when the loudness and the music and everything finally got to me and I got a migraine. I had my go bag on me, and went to what I thought was an empty corner of the house to take my meds. But a couple other people saw me knocking back pills and wanted some. My head was hurting like a bitch, and they were trying to grab them from me and anyway, I spilled a bunch of them all over the floor, drenched myself with my water and their beer, and elbowed a dude and gave him a bloody nose.”
“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.
You opened and closed your jaw a couple times to try to relax the muscles and joints there. “I couldn’t even open my eyes because my head hurt so bad. Chenle told me later I was screaming and Taeyong wanted to call an ambulance until Chenle ran up and explained what was happening. They put me, Chenle, and Jeno—turns out that’s whose nose I broke—in Taeyong’s room in the house for the rest of the night. Neither Chenle nor I were in any shape to drive ourselves home.”
“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”
“Yeah, and it turns out he wasn’t one of the ones trying to take my pills, he was trying to break up me and the people who were. Collateral damage.” You recounted it regrettably.
“When Jeno found out I’d invited you, he told me he’d keep his room clear in case we needed it. I thought he was just being a dick.” Sungchan sounded like he was having an epiphany. “Y/N, do you think you’ll be okay to move up a floor?”
The bass was thudding through the door, and you knew that if you stayed here when you transitioned into the throes of however bad this migraine fully got, you’d regret it. Grabbing your earplugs from your bag and putting them in, you gave him a thumbs-up and attempted a smile, but you knew it came out like more of a wince.
Sungchan kept you between him and the wall as you moved through the Nu Chi house, casting as much of a shadow against the garishly flashing lights as possible. Even through your earplugs, the music was raucous, people were practically screaming at each other, and you gripped one hand around his arm and the other onto his suit jacket to keep yourself balanced and to not lose him. When you got to the stairs, he fully wrapped an arm around your shoulders to jerk you out of the way of a drunk Nu Chi member stumbling his way down, and kept it there the rest of the way up. The noise was squeezing around your head like a vice, and you shut your eyes tight at the top of the stairs for a moment in an attempt to clear your head.
Sungchan’s voice was right beside your ear, muffled through the earplugs, “We’re almost there, Y/N, I’m sorry, come on.”
You were vaguely aware of the man with you feeling around on the top of a doorway before jiggling a doorhandle, and finally you were in a blissfully dark and quiet-ish room. Your head definitely hurt more than before, and you practically collapsed onto the bed.
“He was kind enough to stuff all his dirty clothes in the closet,” Sungchan muttered.
You managed a strangled chuckle at that, dropping your go bag onto the floor beside the bed. A moment of silence passed, and you could hear Sungchan awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet at the doorway.
“Sungchan,” you said his name, then patted the empty half of the bed beside you. “You can sit. I know Jeno doesn’t have any other furniture in here besides the bed and his PlayStation.”
“He probably only has a bedframe because it came with the room.”
You snickered, but were cut off by the squeezing pain turning to a sharp, stabbing pain behind your left eye, “Oh fuck!”
“Y/N?!” Sungchan was right beside you, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you.
“Sorry, sorry, it feels like I’m getting an icepick lobotomy! Jesus!” You hissed, cupping a hand over your left eye as if that were actually going to do anything. “It’s normal, I’m fine. Relatively.”
“Okay…”
Still clutching your eye, you rolled onto your side and brought your knees up towards your chest. You blindly fumbled towards the head of the bed, and felt a pillow being pressed into your hand.
“Thanks,” you muttered, tucking it under your head.
“Do you want to lay under the covers?” Sungchan whispered.
“Do they smell like Jeno’s washed them in the past week?”
He laughed breathily at that, “Miraculously they do. I think he was planning on getting laid.”
“He gave up getting his dick wet for me. Jeno’s a real one,” you mumbled, feeling the covers that you were laying on top of being pulled out from under you.
Sungchan gently brought the sheet up to your shoulder, then a blanket too. The stabbing pain behind your eye was still there, and your stomach filled with dread as you acknowledged that your acute medication wasn’t going to be working this time. This was going to be a full-blown migraine, and who knew how many hours it would last.
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need? Water?”
“No. Just uh, let me know when two hours have passed, I can take another dose of my meds that aren’t fucking working then.”
“Oh. Will do.”
You opened and closed your jaw, letting out a distinct groan. Another few minutes passed. Or, you think it was a few minutes, you couldn’t really check your phone for the time.
“Sungchan.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure the party is a lot more fun.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“…No.”
“I want to stay. I’m not going to have any fun out there knowing that you’re in all in this pain all alone in here.”
You squinted your right eye open, and had to crane your neck to look up at where Sungchan was sitting against the headboard. He had taken his suit jacket and shoes off at some point, now just in a rumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, slacks, and socks. He held your eye contact steadily, head tilted slightly and a frown across his handsome features.
Reaching your unoccupied hand up towards him, he watched it with confusion.
“What do you need? Your bag?”
“No.” You grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.
“Oh.” An adorably radiant grin was on his face now instead.
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SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1
Sungchan knew you’d finally fallen asleep when you stopped muttering swears and curses under your breath, the pained expression fell from your face, and your hand that was holding his went limp. He could still hear the party going strong outside of Jeno’s bedroom, and a glance at his phone told him it was just after one in the morning. He had no want to rejoin his friends, to leave you.
He took his tie all the way off, thinking to himself that if you were feeling better, you might have joked that he looked like Mulder the off-duty funeral director. And he would’ve laughed and watched the cute way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you said something that you thought was funny. He set the tie down with his shoes on the floor beside the bed.
Careful to stay on top of the covers that you were sleeping under, Sungchan shifted until he was laying down too, pillow tucked under his head, facing you on his side, hand still holding yours.
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Like usual, you didn’t remember falling asleep, but you did remember shutting your eyes tight and wishing really hard for your head to stop hurting so bad. Or to die. Whichever the Universe felt like granting. And judging by the fact that you were now waking up without a migraine, it seemed like the former.
The first thing you were aware of before you even opened your eyes was that you felt like shit. Sure, your head didn’t hurt anymore, but jeez the morning after wasn’t much better. Tired, achy, and your brain felt like TV static.
The second thing that you were aware of, after opening your eyes, was Jung Sungchan just a few inches from your face. He was still asleep, soft bursts of air passing from his lips and mussing up strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. You didn’t quite have enough in you to coo over his bedhead, but you could give half of a fond smile as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, running a sleepy hand over one side of your face.
Only one of your earplugs was still in your ears, and you looked around the bedsheets for the other one. After securing it, you scooted over to the edge of the bed to put the plugs back into your carrying case before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over you again. You deserved this, honestly. Sleeping in late, a comfy bed, warm blankets, a cute boy next to you, nothing to—
Your happy thoughts were ripped away by the sound of a loud alarm. You shot up, scrambling towards your tote bag to grab your phone from the depths of it and turn your goddamn alarm off before it woke Sungchan up.
“Mm?”
Too late.
Sheepishly, you looked over at him, “Sorry…”
“‘S okay,” he mumbled, flopping onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s your head?”
“Better. A lot better, thanks.”
“Good, good.” He yawned, “Morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.”
His eyes were closed as he laid there, a hand resting on his chest, and you weren’t sure if he had fallen back asleep.
“…Sungchan?”
“Hm?”
Taking his inquisitive tone as a sign that you could keep talking, you said, “Uhm, that was the first time I’ve had anybody around for one my migraines in a while. I’m sorry if it was… well, I don’t know. What was it like for you?”
He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you and tucking a hand under his cheek, “Oh, uh, I mean, I wasn’t quite worried, since you seemed like you knew exactly what was happening, you know? But still, I… I was wishing there was more I could do. It was weird knowing that you were in pain but not being able to see where it hurt.”
“I should’ve figured that might be upsetting. Sorry about all that.”
“No, Y/N, it's okay. I get it, you just wanted someone with you when you were hurting.”
“Yeah, yeah, I did,” you nodded, curling one of your hands into a fist in your lap, digging your nails into your palm in an attempt to not cry at how easily he saw right into you.
“I was more than happy to sit with you.”
“I’ve had these stupid migraines for years now. Tried every treatment in the book, been on every regiment. And my friends and family, they don’t treat me like I’m made of glass or anything, which I’m grateful for. Everyone in my life knows I’m a pro at it all: I’ve got my go bag, all my meds, my alarms, I’ve been going to doctors’ appointments, testing, everything for years. But like... they still hurt. The migraines still fucking hurt.” Your voice cracked over the word, and your nails dug in deeper. “And I just… think they forget that part sometimes? I don’t know, I guess they hear the word ‘migraine’ thousands of times over the years it sort of loses its meaning. They kind of forget what one actually is. But it hurts Sungchan, my head just hurts for hours or even days, sometimes so bad I throw up from the pain. I can’t do anything but lay in bed in the dark and cry. Last night’s wasn’t that bad but still… thank you. I needed for it to all be real to somebody.”
Sungchan pushed up into a sitting position, and through your watery vision you could see that his brows were furrowed. You followed where his gaze was locked, and watched as he gently unfurled your fingers. You used the thumb of your other hand to rub at the divots that your nails had left in your skin.
“The migraines are why I’ve been all weird, by the way.” You added, trying to ignore the strain in your voice.
“What?”
“When you wanted to buy me a drink after the game. One of my migraine medications that I take, I can’t drink alcohol on it. It just felt like a weird and long explanation to have to give in the moment. And when you asked if I wanted to dance with you last night, the music would’ve made the migraine come on quicker than it did, but explaining it to you then, again it felt like it would’ve ruined the moment even more.”
“Oh… don’t worry about it.”
There was still one big thing you hadn’t smoothed over. But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties tonight, Sungchan. Stupid, stupid.
Pushing through the discomfort prickling at your skin, you asked, “Sungchan, do you want to go on a date?”
“A…” He looked you dead in the eyes for a moment, mouth parted, and blinked once, twice before he was absolutely beaming at you. “Yeah, yes, I do.”
“Okay.” You couldn’t help but giggle, nerves buzzing through you as your chest was airy and you were lightheaded for two reasons now, “Okay, good.”
“Is it bad for me to say that I’m relieved? That you have migraines? Well, not that you have them, because obviously they hurt, but like, that this is what it was? I seriously thought I was being stupid, like mixed signals or something. Like, you came to my game but then you didn’t want to go to the bar.” He ticked the instances off on the fingers of one hand.
“Medication,” you nodded.
“Right. Then you let me walk you home after, but you called me your friend.”
“That was just plain stupidity,” you admitted with a groan at having to relive that moment again.
“And you said yes to coming to the party, but then you didn’t want to dance with me,” Sungchan had now run out of fingers and dropped his hand back down to the bed.
“The music...”
“And when you disappeared, I thought you left because you didn’t like me. I just… felt like I was going crazy.”
“It’s not awful of you to be relieved about this. I’m sorry, Sungchan. Migraines aren’t conducive to romance, apparently.”
“Oh, bullshit.” He pushed back immediately. “They’re just not conducive to drinking and loud parties. That’s not romance.”
“Alright, fair. I’m wont to agree with you.”
“And you need to stop apologizing for your migraines. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose.”
“Well, I did come to a loud ass party knowing I’d probably get a sound-induced migraine.”
“Okay, aside from that— which, I’m very flattered by and will never ever ask you to do anything like this ever again.”
“Okay.”
Suddenly the door handle rattled, then there was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you two done in there?” Jeno yelled through the wood. “You better not be having post-headache sex on my bed!”
“Seems like he didn’t get laid last night,” Sungchan muttered.
“If he keeps up that pounding I’m going to get a rebound headache and he’s going to wake the entire house, please let him in,” you groaned.
The boy with you quickly moved to do so, unlocking the door and throwing it open to whisper aggressively, “Jeno! Shut the fuck up! People are still sleeping!”
“Oh. You’re dressed.”
You rolled your eyes at your friend, “I don’t know what you think a migraine is like, but getting my back blown out is pretty far down on my to-do list for immediately after.”
“How are you feeling?” Jeno was nice enough to ask as he rooted through his closet.
“Like shit. While you guys nurse actual hangovers today, I get to nurse a migraine hangover. Same awful morning after without the fun night before.”
“That sucks.” He secured a rumpled shirt and inside out pair of sweatpants. “I told Chenle you were crashing here last night, by the way. He didn’t just abandon you for shits and giggles.”
“Oh, thanks. He was sober enough to drive?”
“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”
“Wow…”
“Now I recommend you two get the fuck out before everyone else wakes up and sees you sneaking out together.”
“Right,” Sungchan nodded, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed and pulling his shoes on.
You quickly gathered your shoes, phone, witch hat, and go bag before giving Jeno a short goodbye and following Sungchan out. The Nu Chi house was thankfully quiet as everyone was still asleep in their own rooms, save for the partygoers and brothers who had passed out on the couches in the living rooms. Once you were on the front porch, the two of you dared to speak again.
“I’ll drive you home, Y/N,” Sungchan offered.
“Mhm, thanks,” you squinted against the bright sunlight, reaching into your bag for the spare pair of sunglasses you kept in there.
He gestured to your bag. “So what all do you have in there?”
“Everything but the kitchen sink.” You sighed, finally securing your sunglasses and putting them on. They did help, but you knew there was no way you were going to avoid a rebound headache today. Realizing that Sungchan might actually have been genuinely asking and wasn’t just trying to be polite, you decided to give him a sincere answer as well. “Uh, my meds, my blood pressure cuff, earplugs, sunglasses, some snacks, other miscellaneous non-migraine related stuff like an umbrella.”
“Blood pressure cuff?” He stopped in front of a sedan parked on the street, and opened the passenger door for you.
Even through your unpleasant migraine hangover, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips at the gesture.
Once the both of you were in the car, you explained, “One of my medications affects my blood pressure. I have to check it every few hours, or whenever I feel kind of funny. That’s partially what the snacks are for too.”
“Really?” He started the car and pulled out into the street.
“Most of my meds I need to take with food, so keeping snacks on me makes it easy. The sweet ones are in case my blood sugar drops though.”
“Blood sugar too?”
“A different medication affects my appetite, secondary effect is on my blood sugar. Fun fact, it’s the same one that keeps me from drinking alcohol. Anyway, if you’re ever craving something sweet, I keep gummies and stuff on me usually.”
Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”
“Oh and water.” You perked up as you realized you’d forgotten something, and reached in for said item. “I've got my water bottle. I need water to take my meds, obviously, but I also need to drink water to make sure I don’t get kidney stones from my medication.”
The car had stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you in disbelief. “What the fuck.”
“Hey, it’s this or be entirely unable to participate in society.” You explained. “I used to get five or six migraines a week, with really bad or mild headaches constantly in between. I couldn’t do anything, they were disabling. Clearly, they still are now when I do get them, but I only get one or two a month.”
“I can’t imagine— I… yeah…” He trailed off as the light turned green, a deep frown etching itself on his features as he clearly was trying to imagine what a huge shift in his life that would be. And was having a hard time doing so.
“People without chronic illnesses usually can’t, until they get one,” you shrugged. “I know I couldn’t imagine it either. Then I got my first migraine. Then my second, and my third. I think the ‘chronic illness’ part really hit for me when I had to order my first sharps disposal bin for the monthly injections I take.”
“You’re…”
“Do not say that I’m so strong or any live laugh love type shit right now.”
He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, not what I was going to say. I was just thinking… you’re really cool.”
“I just info-dumped about my migraines, medication, medication side effects, and treatment to you for ten minutes straight and that’s the conclusion you came to?” You asked in disbelief as he pulled into your apartment complex, and it dawned on you just how long you had been talking about yourself for. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been that detailed with someone other than your neurologist or your mom about your condition and treatment.
Sungchan put his car in park to turn and look you in the eye. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here: You’re a Lit major, you like Gothic fiction, you’re good at writing, you’re smart and know things like death of the author and stuff, you like Pacific Rim, you’ve come to one of my games, you’re funny, and you just info-dumped to me about something personal for ten minutes. So yes, I think you’re cool. Actually, cool might be an understatement.”
“Jung Sungchan, you…” Your cheeks were hurting with how wide you were grinning. Whether it was the migraine hangover or truly from how warm and happy his words made you, you couldn’t formulate a proper response, “Congrats, I’m speechless.”
“I think that's good?” He laughed again. “Anyway, you told Jeno earlier that you felt like shit, so I won’t hold you up anymore. Rest well today, Y/N.”
“Thanks. You too, Sungchan.” You wrapped your hand around the door handle but stopped just short of actually opening it. “Oh, and uhm, I don’t know if this too eager or whatever, but I’m free tomorrow.”
His face lit up with recognition at what you were implying. “Me too. But are you going to be okay? Like, recovered?”
“Yeah, I’ve got all day today to sleep it off.”
“Okay.” He grinned.
“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”
“Yes, yes. I will.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
And with that, you got out of his car, making sure to take your go bag that had been on your lap for the whole drive.
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Halfway to your front door, you turned around to give Sungchan a final wave goodbye, and he waved back through the windshield. Once you’d finally disappeared into your apartment, he looked over at his now empty passenger seat. Well, not completely empty, he realized. Your witch hat was on the floor of the passenger side, you’d forgotten to grab it on your way out. He picked it up, gently setting it on the seat beside him. He’d just give it back to you when he saw you again for your date tomorrow.
“A date,” Sungchan sighed happily, feeling his chest swell and nearly burst with joy. “A date, a date, a date.”
Putting his car in reverse, he looked through the rear window as he muttered, “Suck an egg, Donghyuck. Man-shaped friend, my ass.”
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SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2
Sungchan picked you up at 7:00 p.m. on the dot for your first date. You made sure to take your nighttime meds early and silence your alarms so there was nothing to bother you that night. Migraines notwithstanding, of course. You still had to bring your go bag just in case you needed anything acute, but you didn’t think twice about leaving the majority of it in the car, tucking just a couple individually packaged tablets into your pocket before accepting Sungchan’s hand that he offered to you after opening your car door for you.
Walking into the movie theater with him after he bought your tickets, you were about to start off in the direction that the usher had pointed you when your date stopped you.
“You want anything from concessions?” He nodded towards the long line of other couples, families, and groups of friends.
“I’m not big on overpriced popcorn,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks though, Sungchan.”
“You sure you don’t want a soda or candy? How’s your, you know, blood sugar?”
It was then that your polite smile morphed into a genuine, touched one, and you squeezed his hand that you were holding. “I’m doing good, promise. I made sure I ate before. But thank you, seriously. You’re really sweet.”
“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”
“Sungchan, can I tell you something?” You ducked your head in towards him conspiratorially.
“Yeah, of course.”
You gently shook one side of your jacket, and a muffled rattling sound came from within it. “I snuck a bag of Skittles in,” you whispered to him.
He chuckled as you dropped your jacket back down and smoothed over the inside pocket inconspicuously. “Two steps ahead of me.”
“I just didn’t want to ruin our date if I got low.”
“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”
“So are you!” You tried to reassure him.
The two of you entered where your movie would be showing, and picked your seats. The previews had already started, so you had to drop your voices to whispers.
“But you’re going to be good with the bright light, and the sounds?” Sungchan double-checked with you.
You nodded insistently. “You’re the one who made me compile a list of stuff that I could do, remember?”
“I know, but you also came to that party knowing that it was like 100% guaranteed to give you a migraine. So I think I’ve earned some skepticism.”
“Okay, fine. You got me there,” you sighed. “But I get nothing out of suggesting things that will give me migraines other than cutting our time together short. Which I don’t want to do.”
Sungchan shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you could see a small, bashful smile on his face. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up.”
The previews finally ended, and the entire theater quieted down, including you two. You settled in to watch the movie, scooting closer to your date, looping your arm under his, and resting your head on his shoulder. He hesitantly leaned his head against the top of yours.
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As you left the theater hand-in-hand with Sungchan, you two were deep in discussion about the movie, and in the back of your mind, you realized with a panic that you had far too much that you wanted to say that wouldn’t fit into the short ride back to your apartment. Not to mention that you didn’t want your night with him to be over yet.
“Hey.” You called for his attention as he opened up the passenger door for you, stopping before you got in the car.
“Hey.” He offered you a lopsided grin, still holding the door open with one hand and now caging you between him and the open car door.
If the parking lot wasn’t literally swarming with other movie theater patrons, you swore you would’ve grabbed him and kissed him stupid right there and then. But a family of five walked by at that moment, so you swallowed down the itch.
“We should go somewhere,” you suggested, trying to sound equal parts nonchalant and hopeful. Which was a weird combination, you knew, but you didn’t want to come across as too desperate. Again, a ridiculous sentiment, but it was engrained in you with social conditioning or whatever.
“We just went somewhere,” he pointed out knowingly, and you swore that was a smirk that you spotted on his face in the shadowy lighting afforded by the parking lot streetlamps.
“We should go somewhere else.”
“Like where?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, despite how desperate you felt on the inside to just be around him right now. “Somewhere. Are you hungry?”
“Are you?”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line. “Well—”
Finally, he smiled, nodded towards the car, and said, “I know somewhere. Get in.”
Sungchan closed the car door after you before walking around to get into the driver’s side. He didn’t offer you any information or clues as to your new destination as he left the movie theater parking lot. The hockey captain drove with one hand casually holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the other tapping out the rhythm of whatever song was playing over his speakers onto his thigh. You dragged your eyes from his fingers to the passing scenery.
Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a good date. Even the last date you’d been on was a distant memory. Lunch with some CompSci major your freshman year, a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance. He just talked over you the whole time. You didn’t deign to go on a second date with him. It wasn’t that your migraines made it impossible to date—they hadn’t even come up at the date with the CompSci major (mostly because he didn’t give you the opportunity to say much of anything)—but you knew that it was always going to be something to get out of way. Either up front or at some point down the line. And it was exhausting enough for you to have to completely restructure your life around them, how could you really ask some stranger who barely knew you—or didn’t at all—to consider doing the same? It felt like it just made your dating pool even narrower, an added standard that you didn’t even get to pick.
But with Sungchan, it had happened in the worst way possible, you disappeared on him because you were having a migraine, without even having told him anything about them. And not only was he more than chill about it, he stayed with you through your entire full-blown migraine. Listened to you explain every ailment, medication, and medication complication that you have, and just tucked all that information away to keep track of your wellbeing. Taken it all in stride and made it look easy. And that was before your first date. It almost made you angry. Not at Sungchan, but at the fact that other people had ever made you feel like an inconvenience.
The car slowing to a stop knocked you from your thoughts, and you didn’t even realize that you had been silent for the entire trip. Sungchan didn’t seem to mind, though, as he hadn’t tried to start a conversation either. He put the car in park as you looked around, trying to gauge where exactly you were.
“Are we… on campus?” You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.
He was already out of the car, though, jogging around to get your door. As he opened it for you, he tilted his head innocently, “What was that?”
You stepped out, taking in your surroundings. “Are we at a campus parking garage?”
“Specifically, the top floor of Evergreen Parking Garage,” Sungchan clarified, rolling the passenger window down.
Evergreen Parking Garage was a commuter-only parking facility, meaning that this level was empty this late at night. It was also located at the furthest reaches of the north block of campus, which bordered a nature preserve, meaning that while on one side was your university campus, the other side was entirely evergreen trees. Hence the name.
Sungchan had parked on the side that faced the nature preserve, and as you turned to question your date as to why exactly he’d taken you to campus, you were instead greeted by the sight of him hunched over to lean into the open passenger window, seemingly messing around with the audio controls of the still-running car.
You tilted your head to one side, then the other as you just watched him struggle for a moment before finally speaking up. “What uh… What are you doing, Sungchan?”
He banged his head on the frame of the window as he went to stand back up. “Fuck! Ow…”
Covering your hand to muffle your giggles, you waited patiently for him to turn around and answer you.
Still clutching his head, he said with a sheepish smile, “Just give me a sec, sorry. Technical difficulties.”
And with that, he opened the door to properly sit in the passenger seat, futzing with his phone and the car radio. Finally, there was music playing from the speakers as opposed to the radio station ads, and he turned the volume up before getting back out of the car and shutting the door. With both the driver and passenger windows rolled down, you could hear the song clearly.
“I was originally going to try to take you to this lookout, but there were other cars there, so I had to keep driving by it and oh my god why did I tell you that—” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Anyway, since we didn’t get to dance at the party…”
Sungchan offered his hand out to you, and you set yours atop it. The upbeat song that had been playing finished just then, switching to a much slower, softer one. You stepped in closer, smiling up at him as you looped your free arm around his neck. His other hand settled on your hip, and he slowly started leading you in an uncertain sway of sorts.
You let out an airy chuckle, “Was this really the kind of dancing you had in mind for a frat party?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He questioned.
“Would you believe me if I said that I believed you?”
“No.”
You snickered. “Smart man.”
“But this is good, too. Better, even.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s not a bunch of other drunk, sweaty, loud people everywhere knocking into us. I don’t have to worry about somebody spilling beer on me, or other guys looking at you, or the DJ picking something bad. Or you getting a migraine.” Sungchan slotted his fingers with yours. “I just get to think about you.”
You rested your head on his chest, eyes zoning out on your linked hands. It was his right hand, so his pinky finger couldn’t quite fold down along with the others. “Yeah. I like this, too,” you agreed softly.
A cool breeze gently blew across your cheek that wasn’t resting on Sungchan’s chest, and you were glad for the warmth of him pressed against your front. Your feet awkwardly bumped into each other, making you chuckle, and he apologized with a nervous laugh.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I haven’t exactly taken any ballroom dancing classes. Have you?”
“Well...”
You jerked your head back to look him in the face. “You have?”
“You know how Greek life has those formals every year?”
“You’re not in a frat...”
“No, I’m not. But freshman year, Nu Chi had pitched in for this dance teacher and— God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Sungchan said regretfully, tilting his head back to look up in embarrassment.
“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.
“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”
“Well now you have to tell me!”
“Hendery’s date couldn’t make it to one of the lessons, so he asked me to fill in for her...”
Your jaw dropped with delight, “Was his date an Amazon? How did that work? He couldn’t have possibly dipped you! Or twirled you!”
“She was taller than him, to be fair,” he admitted. “Nothing that couldn’t be adjusted for with some thick soles, but, you know...”
“You’re such a good friend, Sungchan,” you said through a couple of giggles, imagining the two of them attempting the aforementioned twirls and dips.
He dropped his head, shaking it. “Right, thanks.”
“So I guess I should be leading then, hm?” You teased, your feet bumping his again in that moment.
“I feel like you’d lead us over the edge of this parking deck, Y/N,” he joked.
Before you could make a retort, he stepped back from you to gently twirl you around by the hand, and a cross between a surprised yelp and a laugh tumbled from your mouth. As he brought you back into his chest, you could barely think over the joyful buzzing in your head that resonated out to every square inch of your body.
“Okay, okay, I guess you can lead,” you surrendered, looping your arm back around his neck again.
After some time, the songs had picked up tempo again, but you and Sungchan were long past actually dancing to them. You were more so just holding each other, leisurely swaying, and from here you got to listen to the sounds of his breathing. He’d taken to rubbing absentminded circles into your hip with his thumb, and the fingers of your arm that was around his neck had dipped below the material of his collar, resting on his bare skin.
“Sungchan?” You murmured.
“Yes?” He responded, his voice rumbling right under your ear.
“Thank you for not making me do this in front of a bunch of other cars at the other lookout.”
He let out a couple quiet laughs, his chest shaking with each. “You’re welcome. I figured all of the teens making out in their cars also didn’t want to watch us do this either.”
You mock gasped, pretending to sound scandalized, “You were going to take me to a lover’s lookout? On the first date? Jung Sungchan…”
“Who are you, my grandma? Nobody calls it that anymore.” He pinched your side. “And only because it’s actually got a great view over the city and—”
“I’m kidding, Sungchan.” You pinched him back, lightly, on the nape of the neck. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been opposed to a trip to a lover’s lookout with you anyway…”
You heard the breath hitch in his throat, then Sungchan swallowed and inhaled through his nose, before he finally spoke, “Really?”
His grip on your hip tightened, sending a bolt of electricity along your skin out from the contact point. You brought your head out of his chest and used your arm around his neck to draw him in even closer.
“Really,” you echoed, blatantly staring at his lips now that they were centimeters away from yours. “And it looks like we’ve got our own right here.”
Then Sungchan was using his hold on your hip to push you back step by step until your back was against the side of his car. Your own arm around his neck kept him anchored to you as he stood hovering over you, blotting out any light that would’ve come from the light post above you. Your noses were almost touching, your breaths mingling in the negligible space between your mouths. You were looking at Sungchan’s eyes now, usually a warm, deep brown, now all inky blackness in the dark of night, and staring down at your own mouth. Your tongue instinctually darted out to wet your lips, and that seemed to be the final straw.
His mouth on yours was desperate, but not desperate to get laid, like your previous lover’s lookout banter might imply. Like he was just desperate for you. He stole kiss after kiss from your lips, but never forced his tongue into your mouth, nor moved his hands anywhere else. Despite leaning more and more of his weight forward onto you, utterly pinning you to the car, he kept his bruising grip on your hip and never let go of your hand.
You parted your mouth with a bedraggled gasp of his name, and he finally took this as an invite to slip his tongue into the mix. You shifted to rest the hand that was laced with his above your head, on the roof of the sedan, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand back.
Turning your head and breaking the kiss, you hoped he’d get the idea as you continued laying there half-spread out under him. He did, thankfully, kissing from the corner of your mouth across your cheek and down your jaw and neck.
“Sung…chan…” You breathed out his name, stroking the back of his head with your free hand as his lips latched onto a spot at the base of your neck.
Trailing your hand down further, you snuck it up under the hem of his shirt, feeling over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You pulled the article of clothing up towards his head insistently, and he detached from your neck for the two of you to jointly strip him of it. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You truly didn’t know if he looked or felt better, but you couldn’t ogle him for long, because he was back on top of you as soon as he’d thrown the shirt into the front seat via the open passenger window beside you. His lips were so warm on yours, his skin even hotter under your touch now as you unabashedly felt up every inch of it and the muscles underneath.
But soon that wasn’t enough either, and you were fumbling at his pants button. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating down into your own chest, as his hand snapped around your wrist.
“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.
“What?” You looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I can’t get my dick out in public.”
You glanced at the car behind you, with its tinted windows, then back at Sungchan. He met your eyes, then shrugged. “That’ll work.”
It was a mad scramble to get the door to the backseat open, so much so that you accidentally smacked Sungchan in the leg with said door. After lots of apologies through giggles, both of you were in the backseat with the doors closed and locked. Sungchan had the task of awkwardly reaching forward over the console to roll the windows back up first, during which you made a couple observations about his backseat, which you hadn’t seen much of before. His practice bag for hockey was back here—which was different than his gear bag, as you’d already been told. The gear bag actually had his equipment that he needed to play with like mouth guards, sticks, and all of that, while his practice bag had more personal stuff like changes of clothes or hygiene products. You figured his gear bag was either in the trunk or at the rink, as he didn’t always need to carry it back and forth with him. But other than the practice bag and a couple of reusable grocery bags on the floor, the backseat was pretty clean. You were genuinely impressed, especially because he made it sound like he tended to chauffeur a lot of his teammates/roommates around frequently.
Sungchan eventually reentered the backseat fully, focusing a content, closed-lip smile on you. You’d taken it upon yourself to lay down on the seat, your knees propped up by your feet. He settled in to kneel on the same cushion as your feet, but just rested an arm on your knees and his chin atop that forearm to gaze down at you, still smiling.
“What? What’s that smile for?” You asked, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.
“Nothing, I just—” He reached both his hands out towards you, fingers spread, and you got the idea, linking yours with them. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I want this to be a real thing, Y/N. Like, I don’t just want to sleep with you. I don’t even do this kind of stuff—car sex on the first date in a campus parking garage?—literally ever. I’m just kinda crazy about you. I know for most people usually it’s the opposite; you know, they save it for later for really important people. They try to make it special, but I know it’ll be special just because it’s you.”
“Sungchan... I’ve never done something like this either,” you admitted, squeezing both of his hands tight. “I think I’m just kinda crazy about you too.”
“Okay. Cool.” He beamed at you, and you felt your insides turn to mush in that moment. You didn’t think they’d ever un-mush again.
“Now can you please take my clothes off before I spontaneously combust?”
“Fuck. Yeah.” He nodded, immediately turning serious as his brow furrowed and he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours again, propping himself up with one hand to hover above you.
You let your knees fall apart to give him room to settle in between your legs. He pulled at your jacket first, and you sat up to help yank it off, dropping it to the floor with his practice bag. With you no longer laying down, he could use two hands to get the next part, your top. His fingertips skimmed along your skin as he grabbed the hem. You broke the kiss so he could start pulling the clothing up your body—
A loud knock against the driver’s side window quite literally made you scream, and Sungchan jerked up and hit his head once again, this time on the roof of the car. You tugged your shirt back down to cover you, ducking to lay flat on the seat as Sungchan looked at you with panic in his eyes.
Another knock came at the window, this time accompanied by a man’s voice, “Campus security! Roll the window down or I’m going to ask you to turn the car off and step out!”
“Just a second!” Sungchan yelled back, a noticeable crack in his voice. He had a difficult time maneuvering his lanky body over the console fully into the driver’s seat again.
“Now!” The man called out again. “Three! Two!”
Sungchan didn’t have time to put on his shirt before ‘one,’ and he rushed to roll the window down. A flashlight was immediately shone into the car, and you didn’t doubt your own visibility to the security officer. You were remaining laying down for your own mental wellbeing at this point. You didn’t think that you could deal with looking this man in the eye right now.
You didn’t know if it was wisdom or embarrassment that kept your date from saying anything, but he thankfully didn’t speak until spoken to, not offering up any incriminating information. After five entire seconds of silence, the officer let out an audible sigh.
“No overnight parking in this garage,” he said, his tone making it very clear that he knew that was not what was going on. “I’ll be back in five minutes and if you’re still here, you’re getting a ticket.”
“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.
“I’m sure that the captain of our hockey team wouldn’t want to get put on probation at the beginning of the season.”
“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.
The security officer grunted, but said nothing more. You heard Sungchan roll the window back up, then the sound of another car driving away. Slowly, Sungchan turned around to look at you over the console with wide, horrified eyes.
“He knew who I was…” He whispered. “That was the most terrifying 45 seconds of my life.”
“You’re famous, Sungchan,” you teased, sitting up in the backseat now that the coast was clear.
“Yeah, and fame has got so many perks so far.”
“Almost got into your first scandal already.” You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Caught with a girl in your backseat. What will the fans say?”
“Considering my fans are all frat bros, probably something along the lines of wolf whistles and incoherent, congratulatory lewd jeering.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, able to picture that perfectly considering you’d already gotten a taste at the first home game you’d gone to. “Sounds about right.”
“Anyway, I should take you home before that guy comes back.”
“Good idea.” You slipped your jacket back on.
“Are you going to come up here or am I your chauffeur?”
“I suppose I’ll sit up there with you,” you sighed, opening the backseat to get out and into the front normally since there was no security man around.
Back in the passenger seat, you handed Sungchan’s shirt back to him, “Here, have some decency. You’re the captain of the hockey team, you know.”
“I’m sorry, who was going to spontaneously combust if we didn’t get naked in the next 0.2 seconds?” He scoffed, pulling his top back on.
“I don’t recall.”
“Sure.”
“And who’s still hard in their jeans right now?”
“Don’t remind me, I have to drive like this,” he groaned, taking the car out of park with a shake of his head.
As Sungchan drove with one hand, the other reached over to take yours, lacing his fingers together with yours.
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THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6
Just a few days later, and you were at the rink again, eagerly watching the hockey game in front of you. Chenle was beside you, continuing his constant sports commentary on every play that happened. You still mostly tuned it out, but you were pretty sure you at least understood most of the basic rules that Taeyong had explained to you before. You kept your eyes on Sungchan, cheering him on along with the other various Nu Chi brothers around you and other fans in the stands. It wasn’t as full of a house as it had been for the first home game, but you were perfectly content to have a slightly quieter environment.
Sungchan happened to skate by your section as everyone was resetting their positions, giving you a wave through the clear barrier. You gave him a slightly bashful but nevertheless bright grin as you waved back.
“So are you two like... dating now?” Hendery asked from your other side, leaned forward with both of his elbows on his knees as he watched the game. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, though, one that made you roll your eyes.
“I don’t know. We’ve been on a date. I mean, there was the Halloween party, but I got a migraine so I don’t think that really counts, so— I don’t have to explain myself to you!” You scowled at him, shoving him away by his shoulder.
He laughed as he let himself get jostled around in his seat from the push, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just curious. Unlike your bestie over there, I think you two are adorable.”
“What?” You looked over at Chenle, who Hendery had pointed at.
Chenle had apparently been listening enough to be able to jump in to defend himself. “It’s not what it sounds like. I think you two are great, promise.”
You turned back to your other friend. “Then what the hell are you talking about, Hendery?”
“He just doesn’t want to lose,” the Nu Chi member explained. “I pegged Sungchan’s huge crush on you on day 1 of Dr. Son’s class. Once the Phanta Phour stuff started, I knew that boy had no chance. Chenle just didn’t think you’d ever... hold on, how’d he put it... be into uh, ‘Neanderthal frat-bro-in-law types.’”
“I was maybe a bit tipsy...” Chenle added in.
“So you made a bet on if Sungchan and I would get together? In four whole years?” You looked from left to right between them.
“Loser has to buy winner a 12-pack,” Hendery confirmed with that same grin. “When Phantasmagorical Phriday ended this year, I really thought I’d lost. But then you turned up at the game last week and I figured Sungchan just might score himself a buzzer beater.”
“You two need to get better hobbies,” you declared with a snort.
“This so counts as sudden-death OT, but whatever,” Chenle scoffed under his breath.
You smacked him across the chest. “And don’t call my dating life ‘sudden death’ either.”
“Hey.” He said softly, grabbing your arm, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “I really was worried about you going to the Halloween party with your head. I swear.”
“I know, LeLe,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You did some great wingmanning once we got there.”
The brief flash of sincerity you got from your best friend was over as quick as it had come, as you heard the crash of helmets on the ice, and both your focuses were drawn back to the game. Two players had collided into each other and the clear barrier right in front of your faces. You grimaced sympathetically as you tried to identify the player from your team. 23— Jeno, ah, he’d be alright. And you were right, he took off almost immediately as the other guy was left behind still dazed.
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At the end of the game, with the buzz of another win in your veins and the anticipation of seeing Sungchan thrumming along your skin, you bounced on your heels as you waited in the lobby. You weren't paying attention to the ecstatic, dramatic recollections that Chenle and the Nu Chi brothers were giving of specific plays around you, your gaze entirely focused on the locker room exit.
The very first player to leave was Sungchan, his eyes already scanning the crowd. Without a second thought, you darted over to him, ignoring the couple of whoops and whistles you two got from your friends.
Sungchan beamed down at you as he went to pull you into a hug, and you were immediately enveloped in the smell of the freshly washed clothes that you’d caught last time. This time, though, there was the distinct, crisp smell of ice rink ice under it as well, reminding you of when you’d go ice skating with friends.
“Hey,” you smiled up at him as he let you go, but didn’t step back very far. “You played really good again. I’m pretty sure. A bit more sure than I was last time.”
He was still grinning, looking down at the floor then back up at you before he responded, “Thank you. And I don’t really expect you to become a hockey pro or anything if all that doesn’t interest you. As long as you don’t expect me to remember what death of the author is.”
“This was only my second game, have some faith in me!” You cried out indignantly. “And no, I don’t expect you to become a full-blown literary critic either.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized through a couple of poorly suppressed giggles. “I do believe in you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to learn boring sports stuff for me.”
“I do want to be able to follow the basics of a game without Chenle or Taeyong annotating it for me, at least.”
“Oh, yeah, you can definitely do that. Might need to come to a few more games, though...”
You nodded giddily. “Just let me know when the home games are and I’m there.”
“Yo!” A voice had called from the gaggle of guys heading towards the exit. You didn’t even realize that the rest of the team had left the locker room in the time that you’d been talking to Sungchan.
While you couldn’t tell who had gotten your attention, it was Donghyuck that asked, “Are you two coming or are you just going to keep making moony eyes at each other all night?”
“Yeah, Sungchan, you’re our ride!” Yangyang yelled out from somewhere.
“DD!” Jeno cheered.
“I’ll drive you two,” Mark offered with a shake of his head.
“Shotgun!” The two of them immediately dibs-ed in unison.
“Sorry, bitches, I’m his little,” Donghyuck declared. “That means eternal dibs on shotgun in Mark’s car.”
The frat president scoffed, “You only give a shit about that when it directly benefits you.”
“You guys go ahead,” Sungchan cut into their bickering. “We’re right behind you.”
After they had all filed out, he looked back down at you, a nervous smile worming across his face. “Sorry about that...”
“It’s okay,” you said. “So... you ready to go?”
The two of you had already discussed going to the after-game celebrations with the team before this. Sungchan texted you last night to check in and make sure you’d be okay with going from the loud game to a noisy bar/pool hall with a bunch of frat guys after. You’d assured him that you’d be okay as long as you sat away from any music speakers at the bar, and he’d in turn made you promise to tell him if you needed to leave early.
However, he now halted you as you were slowly turning towards the exit. “Wait, I want to try this again.”
With a sneaking suspicion of what he was about to do, you assured him, “Sungchan, you don’t have to—”
“Let me do this. Please.” He gave you those same eyes that had convinced you to go to a frat party in the first place, and you were squaring your shoulders back to face him, giving him a firm nod.
“Okay. Go for it.”
He asked casually, “So, did you drive yourself?”
You had to hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to straighten your face before replying coyly, “Oh, me? I walked. My apartment is close.”
“So, the team all goes out to this bar after home games. It’s a pretty sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday night, but I’d really like for you to come with me. I’ll buy you a... soda.”
“I would love to come, Sungchan,” you giggled, adjusting your purse strap.
“Awesome,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
As you walked up to the passenger side of his car with him, you suddenly realized something. “Wait, did you have your car last time, too?”
“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for the door handle to open it for you.
“Then why did you walk me home?”
“To spend more time with you?”
You stole a quick kiss before ducking into the passenger seat.
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Squished into one side of a booth with Sungchan’s arm around you, you chatted happily with Chenle, Ten, and Sicheng, who were sitting opposite from you. The team and cheer section were spread out between a couple booths and tables near each other, a few of them up playing pool too. You sipped on your soda between discussions about tonight’s game, upcoming games, classes, or whatever else struck you all. Currently, you were locked in a conversation with Ten about the most recent assigned reading in a class that you two shared together this semester.
“I thought that scene had a lot of great allusions back to the earlier one with her mother and the pie baking,” you gushed.
“Really?” Ten tilted his head curiously. “I was seeing it more as a continuation of the cannibalism-sex-love metaphor, since they were eating figs, you know.”
You nodded knowingly. “That’s true. Everything’s about sex—”
“Except sex.” You two finished quoting your professor in unison.
“And then with figs, there’s the Bible interpretation, of course,” you continued.
“Always the Bible.”
“We can never escape what John Milton did for Christian fanfiction, truly.”
“But I do like the pie scene connection the more that I think about it, actually.” Ten knocked back the rest of his cocktail. “And, tying her mother into the cannibalism metaphor could be a fascinating angle, too.”
Your eyes widened as you were practically vibrating your seat with excitement now. “Yeah, her earliest memory being of food, parental love, and harm...”
“Anyway, I need a refill.” Your friend shook his glass of ice with a smile. “Be back. Good chat as always, Y/N.”
Chenle and Sicheng scooted out of the booth to let Ten out, the former heading off towards the restrooms while the co-captain followed his roommate to the bar, leaving just you and Sungchan. You continued musing over the new connections you’d just made in the text as you turned your gaze back over to Sungchan beside you. He was already looking at you, a fond half-smile on his face.
“Hi.” He said quietly.
“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.
Sungchan took a swig of his drink, then eyed yours. “You haven’t drunk any water since we get here.”
He’d been sure to not only order your promised soda of choice, but also water, and as you now looked over at your two cups, you could tell that the water had not been touched at all while the soda was practically empty.
“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”
“Drink some.” He pushed it towards you insistently. “Can’t have you getting kidney stones on my watch.”
“Okay, okay.” You acquiesced easily, switching your straw over to that glass and chugging a quarter of it in one go. “Better?”
“Much.” He nodded in satisfaction. “So what were you and Ten saying about pies and sex or whatever? Sex isn’t about sex?”
“Oh, it’s just something one of our professors says a lot. ‘Everything is about sex except sex.’ For lit analysis. In literature, pretty much everything is about sex. Or can be. You can turn like, anything in a piece of text into an innuendo or euphemism if you wanted to. Except for sex. Like, if a sex scene is included in a piece of literature, it’s not actually about the sex that’s being depicted. The sex is meant to represent something else. Like politics, or social structures, or whatever other themes are present in the work. Unless you’re just reading porn. But even then, there’s artistic merit to erotica, and plenty to be learned about the social structures at the time it was written, too.”
Sungchan hadn’t blinked the entire time you’d been rambling on, and upon you finally stopping, blinked in rapid succession as he seemed to come to from a daze. “Wow. Uh, interesting. Filing that away with death of the author.”
“Sungchan...” You leaned in to whisper, placing a hand on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. His leg jumped, knocking his knee into the tabletop. Your hand had narrowly avoided being smashed too, saved only by its position curled around his leg instead of directly on top. You didn’t move it up or down now though, simply tapping your index finger against the loose material of his sweatpants as you giggled. “What are you thinking about?”
He cleared his throat a couple of times. “How you still have three-quarters of that glass of water left to drink.”
You laughed, slumping to relax into his side and pulling your hand back up to a more casual position on top of his leg. With your other hand, you grabbed your water. “Alright, fine.”
Not too long after your water had been drained, Sungchan was driving you home. Some of your other friends had taken off as well, and you didn't put up too much of a protest when he offered. As your familiar building came into view, you suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, visitor’s parking is over there. Sorry, forgot to mention before.” You pointed to a few parking spots painted with yellow lines instead of white, further away from the apartment entrances than the resident parking. “They’re a bit picky. Chenle got towed after like, five minutes one time.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Sungchan smoothly turned the wheel to pull into one of the open visitor’s spots.
Your reason for showing it to him was two-fold. One, to let him know you hoped he’d be coming over more often, so he’d need that information for future reference. And two, for perhaps less innocent ulterior motives tonight. Truly, your apartment complex only towed people after dark. Overnight visitors. Chenle’s five-minute tow had been a fluke.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said with no prompting, and you had to hold in a sigh of relief.
Instead, you gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Sungchan.”
“I don’t think I thanked you for coming tonight. To the game.” He slowly meandered up the sidewalk with you, hand holding yours.
“Thanks for inviting me again. I had a lot of fun.” You squeezed his hand.
Your front door loomed in the not-so-distant distance.
“Uh, are you busy this weekend?” He rushed to ask. “I have Saturday morning practice, at 7:30, but it’s over at 9:00, and after that I’m free.”
So that’s why he had texted you at seven in the morning to congratulate you on winning Phantasmagorical Phriday.
“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do something, just pick from the list I sent you. Surprise me, hm?”
“Will do.”
You were finally on your front welcome mat, and watched his face fall as he seemed to be drawing a blank about how else to prolong your night. But you had an idea.
You didn’t let an alarm or anything else possibly have the chance to interrupt you, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to yours. He stumbled forward at you suddenly yanking him off-balance, catching himself with one hand on your front door and the other on your doorframe. Then, he dropped a hand to the small of your back, drawing you in even closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Disconnected just enough to murmur against his lips, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”
“Please?” He replied with a nearly sheepish chuckle.
“So polite,” you quipped.
You gave him one more peck before turning around to unlock your door and drag him in by the arm.
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➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist
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Imagine this with PM! Dazai.
Both of you guys are in the Port Mafia. You joined because Mori took an interest in your ability, and after you agreed to join you were paired up with Chuuya and Dazai since you're all around the same age.
You all get along, tending to just laugh at Dazai and Chuuya's arguments. And you having a major crush on Dazai, but there's something about him that's...off.
You're not sure what it is though. He tends to act silly and immature when around you and Chuuya on occasion, and he knows when to get serious and scary. But, behind that facade, there's something off. Like, when he smiles or laughs his eyes stay empty. There's no happiness or joy.
One day after a mission, you, Chuuya Dazai went to the bar to just relax and chill. When Chuuya got so drunk he passed out, you and Dazai started to get into a deep conversation.
You brought up the fact that there was something off about him, but you just couldn't tell what for sure. You talked about how the eyes are the gateway to the souls, but his eyes seem to lack any. After you said that you looked at him, and he only stood at you blankly, like he was processing what you said.
He'd just take another sip from his glass and shrug with a slight grin, but even that grin held uncertainty. He'd tell you that that's what the three of you all have in common, 3 broken people that hold use to a larger power.
You can't tell if he's genuine or not. When you say nothing all he does is laugh and calls you slow, booping your nose with a grin.
Afterwards, he finishes his 6th glass of the night before picking up Chuuya, telling you he was going to take him home before walking out, leaving you there alone. When you look down at your glass, you see a small piece of paper under your glass. When you look at it, you read the following.
You're observant, I like you for that.
Keep it up, and you might figure me out, Belldona ♡
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muzansfangs · 1 year
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Guilty pleasure.
Starring: Muzan x reader; Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza and Nakime.
Warnings: nsfw, modern au, loss of virginity, language, sugar daddy dynamics, age gap (Muzan is 35, reader is 21), vaginal sex, reference to cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!muzan, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, light choking.
Plot: Kokushibo comes to pick you up and he helps you with the move. During the car ride, Muzan texts you and blatantly tells you that he intends to have sex with you that very night. You spend the day exploring your new house, interacting with the other two bodyguards, until Muzan finally joins you for dinner. He seems genuinely interested in you and your habits and, when he leads you to his bedroom, you can clearly tell he is definitely invested into exploring every inch of your body.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello, there!
I’ve finally been able to update the second part of this short series. I hope you’re going to enjoy the reading and thank you so much for the support you’re showing me! Make sure to read the first part, before you proceed in reading this one. Things are finally getting started down here ;). Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!
PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE| PART FOUR| PART FIVE | PART SIX
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CORRUPTION.
“How’s Mr. Kibutsuji?” you asked, shooting an interrogative glance at Kokushibo through the rear-view mirror of the car. Time had really flown and, before you could mentally prepare yourself to the radical change in your life, it was already Sunday and you had just locked the front door of your apartment, pestered by uncertainties about your new busy schedule and, most likely, new life-style.
“He is a respectful, classy man, miss L/N” the driver flatly replied, not averting his eyes from the road. It was your third failed attempt to make a small conversation with the stolid man, who was most likely going to be your bodyguard as well. You had had the chance to read all the clauses of the contract and it did not seem unpleasing. Except for your lack of privacy, due to being followed and watched in every step you took by a potential serial killer.
If you had to spend hours in Kokushibo’s company, then you would have liked to know him better, at least.
You sighed and rested your forehead against the cold car window “Yeah, I know. – you said, batting your eyes close for a few seconds – Do you think we could ever be friends? I mean, you’re going to be my shadow for the rest of my life. It’s weird and I… Uhm, well, I’d like to feel comfortable around you” you said, opting for a blatant request.
You were spontaneous, honest, and best known for speaking your thoughts without fear, or remorse. You would have surely not changed your attitude for a contract. Plus, it was not like you were rude. You liked to think yourself free to say and do whatever you pleased. Well, at least, when you were safe from prying eyes.
It took a few seconds for Kokushibo to reply something, but eventually he did and a skeptical “As you wish, ma’am” left his lips.
You rolled your eyes, palming your forehead in defeat. It was a lost cause, was it not? Nevertherless, it was your second time interacting with him. There was still a dim hope of breaking through his detached heart.
“Y/N, call me Y/N” you breathed out, expecting some kind of reaction from the taciturn bodyguard. However, he kept his mouth shut and you realised that, perhaps, Kokushibo was not just a man of few words: he probably found it odd that ‘the boss’s fiancé’ wanted to strike up a conversation with him.
You were about to pest him again with another sapless question, when your phone buzzed. You thought it was one of your friends, or maybe your collegues from the small restaurant you worked in. Some of them were heartbroken, when you announced them you had to resign for personal reasons. You could only imagine their faces, when they would have seen your face on the newspapers as Muzan’s wife.
You had still not filled up anyone with the fresh news, chiefly because you were not sure about the outcome of this arranged relationship.
However, when you read the text, you wheezed and clasped your hand over your mouth not to draw Kokushibo’s attention. Funny how you had acted as an attention seeker for fifteen minutes straight and now you were practically ducking your head down not to let him see your reflection in the rear-view mirror. Two words. He had opted for two mere words and your world had stopped revolving.
MUZAN: Sex. Tonight.
Your heart thrummed in your chest as you had to reread the text over and over again to check if you had read it correct. You had exchanged numbers before you left his house and you expected him to text you, at least, once or twice in the past few days. Yet, he had not called or even sent you a trivial message. Nothing. You did not quite expect him to demand a sexual performance from you, out of the blue. You were totally in, of course you were. Muzan Kibutsuji was handsome as Hell, you had always drooled after him, whenever the daily reports showed pictures and videos of him, especially during a conference.
You had accepted the terms of the contract without blinking. Having a sexual intercourse with him was a pleasing activity.
The thing was you were a virgin. Well, you had only experience with giving oral. That was the furthest you had gone with your ex. You knew that sooner or later it would have happened and you were electrified by the idea of giving yourself to him. He was a famous womanizer, unfortunately, but he was surely someone who had plenty of experience and knew how to treat a woman in bed.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” you uttered under your breath, cheeks flushing up as you stared at the screen of your phone thunderstruck.
“What did you say, mi–… Y/N?” Kokushibo said, an ounce of concern and awkwardness echoing in his words. At the sound of your name leaving his lips, you squealed out in joy and almost forgot that fact that he had just heard you swearing. It did not matter anymore because he had just made progress, censuring himself even!
“Ah, yes! You got it, then! – you beamed, leaning forward until your chin almost rested over his shoulder – We’re going to be best buddies!” you said, watching how his hold on the steering wheel grew tighter. The tips of his ears were now tinted in a vivid shade of red and you chuckled, before sinking back onto your seat and texted a reply to Muzan.
You: I’d love that, Mr. Kibutsuji.
It did not take a lot for him to reply and, when he did, your breath hitched in your throat and you shoved your phone back into your bag.
Muzan: In a few hours, you’re going to forget how to properly sit for a week.
It was definitely going to be an unforgettable first day at the Kibutsuji manor.
You expected to share the bedroom with Muzan. He had not mentioned that you could pick a guest room and sleep in there, until you felt comfortable enough to lay down next to him. You were taken aback, naturally, but you were glad he wanted you to settle down without any pressure. He was not imposing his authority on you, his presence in your life was not suffocating you… Yet.
He seemed a gentleman, but you barely knew him. What if things degenerated? You refused to believe it and all you focused on was the present and, as for now, he was not troubling you in any way.
Once you were finally done unpacking, Kokushibo told you he would have taken his leave to run an errand for Muzan and you were free to do whatever you pleased in the meanwhile.
“Wait, can I come with you? I… Well, I don’t want to be alone” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as you shot the most pleading glance at the man you had enjoyed annoying all day long.
Kokushibo quirked an eyebrow up “You are not alone, actually. – he simply replied, straightening his jacket – Douma and Akaza are in the basement. I can accompany you there…” the man said, folding his arms against his chest. Only then, when he flexed his arms, you noticed how muscular he actually was.
He had large shoulders, a broad chest and, most likely, a chiseled set of abs down his stomach. Well, damn, did Muzan really have to choose hot men as his bodyguards? Ignoring your dirty, inappropriate thought, you vigorously nodded your head and followed him down the corridor, hoping that the other two assassins were not as good-looking as Kokushibo. Your hopes, though, crushed down, when, hopping down from the elevator, you were met with two piercing golden eyes and fascinating multicolored hues.
The taller one, silvery hair and a malicious grin plastered over his face was the first one who spoke “Ah, there she is! I knew she was the perfect candidate for this job. Such a pity I could not ask her out…” he complained, discarding his phone on the counter of the bar area and strolling towards you.
He was magnetic, his smile so bright and malicious that could have enlighten the whole city during a blackout.
“Back off, Douma. – the short guy, sipping a glass of what you assumed to be cognac, hissed from the stool he was sitting on – Touch her and I’ll shoot you” he stated, slamming the shot onto the counter carelessly.
You let out a nervous laughter and flashed a thin-lipped smile at them, before greeting the rest of Muzan’s army “Akaza and Douma, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N” you introduced yourself, waving your hand at them sheepishly.
You wondered if Akaza really meant what he had said and your eyes betrayed your thoughts, making Douma sneer and grasp your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You could feel his breath fanning the tip of your nose, his slender frame towering over you as his half-lidded, mystical eyes scanned your face. He really did not know what personal space was, did he?
“Ah, look at you! Adorable, just adorable! Akaza loves to bully me, but he could never lay a finger on the second in command! Muzan-sama would kill him himself! – Douma chimed, tugging at your hand softly and leading you towards the bar – Now, now, let’s grab a glass of scotch and have a chit-chat, shall we?” he suggested, winking at you.
You had no idea of what to do and say. He seemed friendly, far way easier to talk to than Kokushibo, and, since they were going to be your protectors too, it was a good idea getting to know them better.
Before you could talk, Kokushibo’s deep voice pierced your ears and you both froze in your tracks “Take care of her. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes” he stated, glancing at the two men menacingly, before nodding your head in your direction and hastily leaving the basement.
You watched him leave, your stomach clenching, as you realised that you would have been able to see Muzan in a while. You were not nervous about the dinner, but you had to admit that the idea of undressing in front of him and moaning into his mouth was doing numbers on you.
What if he changed his mind because you had almost zero experience?
You sighed and Douma snaked his arm around your waist, leading you to the stool next to Akaza’s one. As you sat down, you swallowed the lump in your throat and propped your elbows on the counter, eyes transfixed on the crystal bottle of liquor in front of you.
“Can I have a glass of whatever it is, please?” you whispered, earning a chuckle from Douma.
“Bad day?” Akaza asked you, reaching his hand out to grab a glass and the bottle you had been staring at almost lustfully.
You shrugged and flicked your gaze up to meet his golden eyes “Kind of… – you breathed out, as he slided the now filled glass towards you on the polished surface of the counter – I’m not used to be treated like a princess. Everything’s great, don’t get me wrong. I guess it’ll take some time for me to adapt” you said, grasping the glass and dawning a small sip of the alcoholic drink. It burned down your throat and you took a deep breath not to cough up at their faces.
Akaza grinned and cocked his head to the side, his pink eyelashes contrasting with the shimmering hues beneath them “You know, I thought you were a bitch. That’s because Douma found you and he usually has bad tastes in women” he said, making you choke on yiur drink.
What?
You settled the glass back on the counter, eyes daggers on Akaza as he just giggled at your reaction. What did he mean by ‘Douma found you’? You knew that someone had clearly spied on you, you just were startled to find out it was the jovial silver-haired man who had welcomed you in the basement.
“Yeah, he’s stalked you for months!” he added, running his ringed fingers through his spiky hair.
Your head whipped, eyes finally locking with Douma’s ones, demanding at least an apology for having invaded your privacy “How many photographs of me have you taken?” you asked him, quirking an eyebrow up.
He smiled brightly at you and shrugged “Uhm… Probably over twothousand. You know, Muzan-sama became obsessed with you when I showed him the first picture of you I had taken!” he casually declared, as if it was not the creepiest thing to say to someone.
Muzan became obsessed with you?
You shivered, biting the insides of your cheeks in discomfort. How many things did he know about you? Why was he so obsessed with you, a common civilian who was trying to graduate and pay for her studies by working night-shifts at a restaurant?
“Tell me you have not broken into my house, at least” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Silence. Did he?
You gasped and clasped a hand over your mouth in shock and Douma jabbed his finger at Akaza accusingly “Hey, I was not alone! He came with me countless times!” he protested, earning a scornful look from the pink-haired guy.
“Sure I did! I was afraid you were going to follow her into the bathroom, you perv!” Akaza yelled, slamming his fist onto the counter and leaning towards him, despite you being in his way.
“Okay, okay! Stop it you two!” you interjected, blocking Akaza’s view on the taller man.
“See? You made Y/N-chan upset!” Douma rebuked Akaza, folding his arms against his chest and giving him an annoyed side-eye.
Well, they were hilarious. You were glad that two out of the three bodyguards were not as stiff as Kokushibo. They were amusing, even, and they had made the revelation about how you ended up in Muzan’s house less scary than it was. A politician could not be an saint and Muzan was surely far from being one.
Before you could open your mouth to say something, a feminine voice echoed from the entrance of the basement and you three switched your attention on the brunette woman staring at you.
She was probably a little bit older than you. Long, chocolate brown hair and crimson-red lipstick exalting her pale skin, she wore a black tailleur, the skirt being way too short though, and revealing a black, leather suspender with a sharp knife in it. She seemed lathal and she was absolutely beautiful, although you could barely see her eyes.
“Master Muzan’s waiting for you, miss L/N” she coldly said and you clumsily hopped down from the stool to walk towards the elevator not to piss her off. She did not seem like the type you would have messed with, plus you had never seen her before.
“Ah, Nakime-dono… – Douma suavely addressed her – I wondered where were you”.
You passed by her and she bowed her head at you “Enjoy your meal, ma’am. Nobody will disturb you and the Master tonight” she said and you felt a wave of cold sweat running down your back. Were you ready for it?
You were sitting across from him. His plum red eyes boring into yours, as he watched you bringing the spoon to your mouth and repress a moan of pleasure, when the delicious rice met your yearning taste buds.
You had been talking about everything. He seemed eager to know everything about you. Your studies, what you would have loved to do after your graduation, your hobbies, your family. He found you fascinating, adorable.
“It looks like I’ve chosen something you like, doesn’t it? – he commented, a faint smile adorning his lips as you blushed and shyly nodded your head – You can ask the chef to cook whatever you please for lunch tomorrow” he added, clearing his throat.
Seriously?
You smiled at him and settled the silver spoon onto the now empty plate “Thank you so much, Muzan. I will try to pick something you can enjoy too!” you said softly.
He did not reply, he just stood up, consuming the five strides dividing you two in a nick of time and swiftly grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. It was time for him to claim you, was it not? Your cheeks seemed to burn under his intense gaze and firm touch and you mouth went suddenly dry.
“Come with me, baby” he whispered, after a few seconds. His hand left your chin, his fingertips grazing down the tender flesh of your neck, travelling down its length and stopping right above your cleavage.
You nodded your head and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you up and closer to him. He leaned down, until his nose brushed against yours and you batted your eyes close in anticipation. You felt butterflies fluttering into your stomach and, by the time he swept you off of your feet and cradled you in his arms, you knew he had already won your heart.
You clung to him, feet dangling in the air as he led you to his majestic bedroom. He banged the door open, entering in and not caring about closing it behind you. When he dropped ruthlessly onto the bed, your eyes snapped open and you saw the lustful gaze he had trailed on you. The tent in his pants was prominent and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, biting on your lower lip nervously.
He smirked down at you unbuckling the belt with one hand “Take your clothes off. Now” he demanded, throwing it away and unzipping his pants.
“Yes, sir” you murmured, proceeding in kneeling on the bed to pull the simple pink dress you were wearing above your head. You felt his gaze on you, you felt it soaking in every curve of your body, searching for the proof that you were as excited as him. And he found it.
Your white virginal panties had an evident dump he did not fail to notice. You stared up at him and he pulled his shaft out of the tight fabric of his black boxers, giving it a few pumps. It was huge, it would have hurt like Hell and you gulped nervously as you hesitantly pulled your panties down your thighs, exposing your untouched flower at his vicious eyes.
“Fuck” he grunted, crawling over the bed and grasping you by your hips. You squirmed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his fingers snatching the panties away from your ankles and discarding them somewhere behind him.
“S-Sir, please… Be gentle, I’m a virgin” you blurted out, earning a dumbfounded glance from the raven-haired man.
He could not believe his eyes. You, the young and lovely girl he was about to mark as his property was actually a virgin. He chuckled, parting your legs and grazing your chaste entrance with his pointer finger. You shuddered under his touch, your juices coating the pad of his digit as he slowly shoved it inside you.
You yelped, his other hand pushing your hips down to keep you in place “Your admission just made me feral. Are you under birth-control?” he huskily asked you, pumping the finger in and out of soaked, tight cunt.
You whined and nodded your head at him “Y-yes… Yes, I am, Master” you winced, as he deliberately decided to add another finger into you. He was loving every second of it, your moans music to his ears. He had even declined Nakime’s avances earlier. Something he was not used to, actually, and he had not even called Daki for the usual morning quickie in his office. Nothing, all because he wanted to focus on you. Only on you.
“Good. That’s good, love, because I’ll cum into you” he rasped, removing his fingers from your core and lining his shaft at your entrance. You held your breath, cheeks heating up even more at his words, as you boldly wrapped your legs around him.
He was still fully clothed and you were so lost into the depths of your mind that you had not realised it until now. Why was he fucking you like that? Was it his kink?
And with a quick, painful thrust he entered you. You let out a throaty moan, the pain, mixed with an unfamiliar pressure into your neather regions made your arch your back and grip the red bedsheets into your fists so tightly you thought they were going to rip into shreds.
Muzan grunted, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly to capture the tear you had shedded, before planting a kiss over your plumped lips. You relaxed, he stayed still for a few minutes, before he pulled out and thrusted back in gently. You moaned into his mouth, your hand, cupping his smooth cheek as you whispered a weak “Please, don’t stop” against his lips.
Muzan bit your lip softly, tugging at it to assert his authority on you “Hush, baby. Moan for me until I fill you up to the brim”.
You kissed him again, Muzan returning it as he started to pick up a faster pace. He thrusted into you, his mouth latching onto your collabone as he left a trail of wet kisses down it. You were his. You were going to fall for him, no matter how long it would have taken.
You were his doll, his precious baby, his goddess.
“A–Ah, Muzan… I-I think I’m close… It’s good, it’s so good” you breathed out then, as his hand grasped your throat and gave it a tight squeeze. You moaned, eyes rolling at the back of your skull, as your spongy walls clamped down his cock.
He growled, his hips rutting into you as he neared his climax and, just a few moments before he spurted his seed into you, you orgasmed around him. Muzan lowly moaned, burying his face onto the crook of your sweaty neck as he finished inside you. He stayed sheathed into you for a few minutes, before pulling out of your aching core and rolling over his back.
You could not believe what had just happened. You could not believe you had just slept with the next President, you could not believe he had come into you.
“You can sleep here, if you want” he casually said then, snapping you out of your stream of consciousness. He was not laying next to you anymore, he was on his feet and walking towards the private bathroom of his bedroom, undressing and leaving a trail of clothes behind him.
Well, what a first day it had been.
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thevirtualvalentine · 7 months
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TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !
Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸
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SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”
MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.
DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …
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Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.
Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.
Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.
You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.
He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.
“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.
“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.
“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.
“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.
“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.
“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.
“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.
“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.
“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.
“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.
“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.
For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.
You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”
“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.
“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.
“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.
His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.
“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.
He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.
He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.
“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.
You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.
Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.
“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.
“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.
“Of course baby,” he replies.
It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.
“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.
It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.
His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.
He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.
The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.
Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.
His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.
Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.
“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.
The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”
You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.
He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.
“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”
You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.
“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.
Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.
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python333 · 8 months
Text
task force 141 reacting to [reader] giving them a 'happy father's day' card — python333
— — — —
synopsis you give the tf141 boys some happy father's day cards!!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & younger!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost.
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], reader is intended to be around 16/17-20/21 but can be interpreted as older as long as they're below 24 (just so that the headcanons make more sense), maybe ooc?
note i'm so sorry but there's no gaz in this one BUT i can explain why!! i was doing my research (going through three different tumblr posts) to figure out the actual age of each character and gaz is apparently 24?? in new updates or whatever?? anyway, even before i found that out, i could only ever imagine writing him as an older brother, simply because he doesn't feel fatherly to me but still has those protecive-familial vibes so if yall want me to write something on him being ur older brother then feel free to request/reply/comment or whatever and i will! :3 this is all comfort no hurt and pure fluff so enjoy!!
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JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE
➥ OH GOD.
➥ man i don’t even have daddy issues and i’m crying.
➥ gives you that one dad smile he has—y’all know the one. don’t pretend you don’t—and thanks you for it.
➥ gives you a lil hug too because why not?
➥ tears up just the tiniest bit but it’s pretty unnoticeable but i need you to know that it’s there.
➥ either keeps it propped up on his desk, in one of the drawers of his desk, or puts it in a small frame and puts that on or in his desk.
➥ definitely reads it at least once a week.
➥ he’s so genuinely flattered by it i think that after you leave his office he’d tear up a bit.
➥ you thought he was acting as a father figure to you before?
➥ be prepared for him to take it to a whole nother level.
➥ starts getting you cheesy birthday cards after you start giving him father’s day cards.
➥ is he a father biologically? no. is he one mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? absolutely.
You were reasonably pretty nervous.
It wasn’t ever really a secret that you and Price had some sort of father-child-like relationship, what with the amount of hair ruffles, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. that you’d received from him and the swatting at his hand with your own that you had given back. But none of that took away the nervousness you had when you gave Price a father’s day card for the first time.
It’s not that you thought that he would be weirded out by it, you just had a small habit of overthinking things, and this happened to be one of those things. The card didn’t say too much inside of it, a simple ‘happy father’s day!’ and a sentence you wrote that mentioned that you were grateful to know him. That’s it. That’s all it was. And yet, your hand shook as you held it, the other hand knocking on the door of Price’s office.
He nodded in greeting and opened it, and stepped out of the way to let you walk in and sit in front of his desk. He sat at his usual seat after shutting the door, and you set the card in your lap, not wanting him to see it just yet.
“Is there any particular reason why you wanted to come into my office?” Price asked, breaking the silence. You took a deep breath and nodded before you quickly handed over the card, slipping it onto his side of the desk. He took a good look at it for a moment, reading the ‘happy father’s day!’ on the front and looking over the cheesy illustration on the cover. You anxiously waited for him to say something as he simply stared at it, before he picked it up and opened it, reading the short few words that were written on the inside.
You watched as his expression melted into a softer one, and he stared at the card for another moment before wordlessly getting up. Before you could say anything, or question anything, he knelt down to the level of the chair you were sitting in and hugged you. You were frozen with surprise before you hugged him back, loosely wrapping your arms over his shoulders, a little confused by the hug but appreciating the embrace nonetheless. He rubbed your back for a quick moment before standing back up straight and patting your shoulder.
”Thank you,” He said, smiling down at you. “I really appreciated that, kiddo.”
Oh, wow. I don’t know why, but I think I might start crying. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” You’d replied, quickly getting up and giving Price a quick hug before swiftly walking to the door, “I’ll just, uh, I’ll be in my room. Or, actually, no, I’m gonna go—I’m gonna go bother Soap in his office, so if you need me I’ll be in there okaybyeCaptainI’llseeyoulater!” You rushed out, not looking back as you closed the door behind you.
Price had blinked at the door for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and sitting back down in his chair, looking at the card you’d given him one last time before sighing and letting himself tear up a bit. Eventually, after just sitting there and staring at the card, he unlocked one of the few locked drawers at the bottom of his desk and put the card there, for safekeeping.
JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH
➥ he’s so excited when he reads that card.
➥ he’s so flattered?? and is so happy?? and oh my god he might pass out?? from all the positive emotions he feels??
➥ be careful with what you say because you might break him beyond repair.
➥ it’s like you’ve given a puppy it’s first treat, honestly.
➥ won’t cry but is very close to!!
➥ will definitely show off the card to everyone.
➥ when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE.
➥ he will talk everyone’s ear off about it, no matter who they are or what they’re doing, hell, the man could be pissing with his dick out at the urinals and everything and he’ll still be ranting to the poor soul in the bathroom about what a sweetheart you are and how you gave him a father’s day card.
➥ he starts calling you ‘lamb’ and ‘duckie’ after the whole ordeal.
➥ no i didn’t ask chatgpt for terms of endearment scottish parents use for their children haha!!
➥ he buys a corkboard just to pin the card to in his office.
➥ like it’s literally just in the middle, nothing else on the corkboard, just that singular father’s day card.
➥ the whole thing is just reserved for father’s day cards tbh. he hopes to fill it up with as many cards as you’ll give him, and if you only give him the one, then damn it, the corkboard’s only gonna have one thing on it and whoever questions it can mind their damn business.
You didn’t really know what to expect with Soap when you gave him the card.
You felt pretty confident giving it to him, knowing the guy could probably receive a rock with googly eyes on it from you and still cry tears of joy knowing you gave it to him of all people, so giving this card to him was no big deal, right?
You found him in the recreational center, lounging on the couch, reading a book—shocking, I know—and quietly reading the words out loud to himself. The moment you had entered the center, though, he looked up from his book and nodded in greeting at you with a smile on his face and watched as you walked over to him.
Before he could say anything, you quickly put the card in his lap and watched as he looked up at you, a surprised and amused expression on his face.
“What’s this?” He asked, not looking down at the card just yet.
“Read it,” You’d insisted, gesturing towards the card in his lap. He blinked at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and looking down at the card. He picked it up and read the three short words on the front and looked over the illustration on the cover, and the moment the words registered in his brain, his face broke out into a grin and he looked up at you.
“Aww, this is sae sweet,” Soap gushed, “Thank ye!”
He got up before you could talk and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit, cooing, “Ye're jist the sweetest, ma God, when did ye get the card?”
“I got it a while ago,” You had admitted, “Decided to give it to you now.”
Soap set you down and put both of his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumb, looking down at you with an elated grin, "I'm gonnae hang this up in ma office—I'll get a corkboard an' everything, jist for this."
You looked up at him with a confused, but amused look on your face, asking, “And you’re just gonna hang that card on there?”
He nodded in confirmation and responded, “Aye, it'll be deid center, naething else on there."
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
➥ oh my goodness.
➥ the moment you hand him the card, it’s like he already knows what it is without reading it.
➥ probably thinks it’s a joke at first.
➥ when he realizes that you’re serious he straight up tears up.
➥ like in front of you and everything he’ll tear up.
➥ “... Are you crying?” ghost, tearing up and literally about to start sobbing, "No.”
➥ he treasures that thing and would literally cease to exist if he ever lost it or if it got destroyed.
➥ won’t flaunt it at all, instead he keeps it in the pocket of a jacket he never wears anymore.
➥ if you ever give him more cards, he’ll consider getting a box to keep them in.
➥ he’s always called you ‘kid’ but after this he starts calling you ‘kiddo’.
➥ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.
➥ listen kiddo is more affectionate and its softer and its not as playful as kid its more personal and and and [explodes]
➥ the others notice the small change in behavior he has towards you (being more lighthearted with his teasing, generally being less cold with you, etc.) and will tease him endlessly about it.
➥ by others i mean soap and gaz. those two team up and tease him to death.
➥ he could care less though!! he tells himself that they’re idiots anyway and that his behavior hasn’t changed that much.
➥ he’s in denial and i think that him and me are the same fr.
You had practically searched every corner, crevice, nook, and cranny of the base searching for Ghost. When you finally found him, he was in the armory and weapons room cleaning the barrel of his rifle, hyperfocused on wiping away the gunk on the gun. You stopped by the door, hesitating in giving him the card. It really shouldn’t be that hard, You thought, What’s the worst that could happen?
You were aware that there were many things that could happen, most of which were bad, but you ignored them for the sake of building up your confidence to give him the card. You stood there for a while, just sort of staring at him, before he—not even looking up from his gun—called out to you with a simple yet firm, “Do you need something?”
You probably could’ve died right there, his firm voice almost completely shattering your confidence for reasons you couldn’t specify, but you instead cleared your throat and walked out of the doorway and completely into the room. You walked over to him and before he could ask any further questions you held the card out to him, your hand having a small tremble to it, an uncomfortably visible display of your nervousness.
He stared at the card for a moment before setting down the cloth he was using to clean his gun and grabbing it, reading the front for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and looking up at you to tease you for it. He was going to tell you what a ‘funny’ joke it was, to tell you to just go do whatever work you’re probably skipping out on when he sees the look on your face that tells him that you’re pretty serious about the card.
He looked back down at the card and read it again, the words ‘happy father’s day’ echoing through his mind as he opened it. He read the few short words on the inside of the card and the shitty drawing of a ghost right next to one that was scribbled out—because of course you had to use pen and weren’t satisfied with the first ghost you drew even though Ghost could make out through the scribbles that they practically looked the same.
You were pretty nervous the longer the silence stretched out, and you were about to take back the card and go jump off a cliff to avoid ever looking at Ghost again when suddenly you hear a sniffle.
“Are you… are you crying?” You’d asked, more confused than nervous now, watching as Ghost shook his head negatively and continued to stare at the inside of the card.
“No,” He answered, sniffling again.
“... You sure?” You’d asked again, far less nervous now, your tone becoming more teasing.
“Positive.” Ghost said firmly, though his voice had wavered a bit. He looked up at you and reached his hand up to give you a pat on the shoulder, muttering, “Thank you for that, kiddo.”
"Yeah, no problem," You had said back, smiling down at Ghost before taking a step back, "I'll leave you to keep cleaning your gun, or whatever."
Ghost had simply nodded and looked back at the table where your card and his gun laid, and you didn't stay long enough to watch him tear up all over again at the sight of the letter.
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jsluvtzu · 5 months
Text
weekend gigs
kim dahyun x fem!reader
summary: the new girl makes your shift worthwhile
cw: none, men dni
wc: 1.7k
a/n: my favorite pic of dahyun ever 😞 seeing clips of her playing piano inspired me to write this. she’s so gf i love her
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it was a particularly busy sunday evening. the bustling environment in the restaurant simmered down as the faint sound of a piano filled the room.
you were busy waiting on tables in the main dining area as well, constantly on the move to attend to every customer.
“i heard we got a new saturday player.. they finally let poor john rest,” your coworker said.
john was an older gentleman — he was a lounge pianist at the restaurant for about 9 years.
he genuinely loved spending his weekends there, but he was growing weaker at his age, unable to hit the right keys or play the right notes anymore.
you swiftly picked up a tray full of dishes that the cook handed you, “aw, really? i’ll actually kinda miss john.. he was a sweetheart,” you said, slightly disheartened, but glad that he was getting the rest that he deserved.
you wondered who the new player could be, but the three tables waiting for your attention cut your curiosity short.
as you made your way to a seated couple in the lounge area, you subtly glanced over to the stage to catch a glimpse of the newbie.
a.. woman?, you thought.
you couldn’t see much of this unexpected woman in the quick glance that you took — her dark, long, wavy hair draped over her shoulder.
it was a refreshing change to see a new person on the stage for once — nothing against sweet old john, but it was just time for a new set of songs.
quickly taking their order, you excused yourself and made your way back to the kitchen, purposely taking the route that would get you as close to the stage as possible.
the melody that she played grew louder as you approached her, the skill practically bouncing off her fingertips.
you held the notepad tightly in your hand as you passed by the grand piano, tracking the woman with your head locked onto observing her features.
woah, was all you could think of as you finally saw her face — her glowing skin, a faint smile on her lips, and her captivating eyes.
the woman felt you staring at her and took her eyes off of her note sheet to meet yours.
she smiled wide at you, making you nearly collide with another waiter, your head never once turning away from her.
“oh shit- sorry!” you apologized, reluctantly peeling your eyes away to plead with your coworker not to kill you.
a few hours passed and your shift finally ended.
you punched in your code to clock out of the system in the back, deeply sighing out as you stretched your back and waited for the computer to load.
the restaurant was fairly empty at that point, the late hours creeping up on the corporate workers that came in to relax before a long week of work.
you grabbed your backpack and headed out to leave, still hearing the entrancing sounds coming from the ambient lounge.
stopping in your tracks, you decided against leaving right away and traipsed your way over to the entrance of the lounge hall.
she was still up there playing away, her smile never fading.
you made your way over to an empty couch towards the middle and set your things down, taking a seat and immediately feeling yourself relax.
the way she swayed along slightly with the music and gracefully moved her hands on the keys made your tired lips curl into a slight smile. you could see the passion and love she had for music in the way she tenderly played every note with precision.
every once in a while, the woman would look over her shoulder at you and smile, almost like she was checking on you.
time passed by in the blink of an eye — what felt like five minutes quickly turned into thirty.
you were the only one left in the lounge now, the once busy night turning into a quiet and peaceful one.
the woman ended her last song with a drawn out riff, sitting up straight and stretching her wrists from fatigue.
you followed her action and took your chin out of the hand you had rested on your knee, sitting up slowly.
you were contemplating if you should sneak out before she thinks you’re weird for watching her that long, or if you should just stay and talk to this pretty, pretty lady.
ultimately, you decided on the former, grabbing your bag and quietly shuffling your way to the exit.
“wait! i- i just-” the woman blurted, shooting up from the bench and frantically stepping down the small stairs on the front of the stage.
you froze and snapped your head in her direction, anticipating a creeped out response.
her high heels thumped against the velvet carpet, “i just wanted to say thank you for.. staying.”
she was face to face with you now — fidgeting with the ends of her black dress and beaming at you with nothing except gratitude in her eyes.
you gripped the strap of your backpack hanging on your right shoulder as she came closer to you, praying you didn’t stink of any food or worse.
“y-yeah, it was nothing really. i enjoyed watching you or- not watching you i just really enjoyed your performance.. skills… yeah,” you stuttered, tripping over your own jumbled words under her gaze.
she let out a small laugh at your shyness, squinting and smiling with her pretty eyes, “well, i’m glad you enjoyed it,” she held out her hand, “i’m dahyun. it’s actually my first night here!”
you took her hand and introduced yourself with a firm handshake, “nice to meet you dahyun, i’m y/n,” you said with a returned smile, “how often do you plan on playing here?”
“i actually took up all the weekend spots. i think it’s more fun to play when people come with a work stress-free mind anyways,” she said, dropping her hand from your grasp and reaching it up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
how convenient — it just so happens that you worked the night shifts every weekend.
“yeah? the boss must really like you then. it’s not common for him to have an artist play consecutively like that.”
you wondered just how talented dahyun was for your boss to take her on so often.
dahyun nodded, “i guess so.. i just played a song for him one day and he signed me on for all weekends!” she said with another bright smile.
“how can you even play so well? seriously, i’m amazed at how talented you are on that piano.”
she hesitated to answer, giggling and turning her head down, “well.. how about i show you?”
you waited for her to look back up at you, “i would love that.”
dahyun excitedly turned and headed back up on the stage, sliding her way to the left side of the bench.
you soon followed behind her, dropping your backpack at the edge of the piano and scooting in next to her on the right.
at this distance, you could smell the floral perfume she used and felt the coldness of her skin when her arm grazed yours.
“so you see this key right here?” she pointed in front of you, “just press down on it like this,” she pressed the key rhythmically every couple beats, making sure you followed her tempo.
you hummed in agreement and practiced on your own, looking over at her for approval.
surprisingly, she was already looking at you — her eyes filled with adoration.
“exactly like that, you got it!” she said, positioning her hands to play a slow melody.
the impromptu duet between you two echoed against the walls of the empty lounge, mixed laughter and giggles erupting from both of you.
you helped dahyun by pressing your assigned key at the right time, watching as her fingers danced along the white tiles.
her presence was warm — calming almost. you felt comfortable being around her even though you’d just barely met her a couple hours ago.
after another half an hour of you two messing around together, you eventually closed up the place and offered to walk dahyun home.
“do you live near here?” you said, walking alongside dahyun on the sidewalk.
“yeah, about two blocks down. i hope it’s not too far for you.. i hate that you have to go all this way just to walk me home,” she said worriedly.
“it’s not a problem at all. gotta make sure the talent gets home safe, right?”
dahyun laughed at your corny joke, her hand covering her mouth.
you wished she knew how beautiful her smile was and how amazing she looked up on that stage.
“right, right,” she giggled, stuffing her hands in the pockets of your jacket that you insisted on her wearing.
when you arrived at dahyun’s place, it was hard to put a stop to the flowing conversation you had.
she was easy and fun to talk to, a trait that wasn’t common in the people that you usually met.
“well, this is my place. thank you again for walking with me.”
you didn’t know it at the time, but dahyun didn’t want the night to end any more than you did.
“of course, dahyun. it was really nice to meet you.”
dahyun looked down at the jacket she had on, realizing that it wasn’t hers, “oh! your jacket! here, take it please, i’m so sorry,” she said, rushing to slide it off of her shoulders and hand it back to you.
you refused to take it back and assured her that she could keep it, “no, no, it’s fine really. keep it. you can just give it back to me next saturday!”
silently high-fiving yourself, you succeeded in creating an excuse for her to talk to you the next time you met.
“are you sure?”
you nodded with a big smile on your face, “i’m sure.”
dahyun thanked you again and brought you in for a goodbye hug, clinging onto you as you awkwardly wrapped your arms around her.
saying your goodbyes, dahyun put her number in your phone and emphasized the importance of you getting home safely.
your mind was filled with thoughts of her the whole way home — hoping that it wouldn’t be the last time you’d have the opportunity to be with her like that.
little did you know,
it was only the beginning.
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tinyundercover · 1 month
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pepper & felix
part two
In this universe, when a person turns 21, they gain the ability to communicate with their soulmate telepathically. For the borrower Pepper, this turns out to be quite a shock. word count: 1.5k
Pepper sat on top of the cabinet, legs crossed underneath him. Up here, perched at the very edge, Pepper could see the entire kitchen.
The human had returned from class about an hour ago, and was now moving around the kitchen, making dinner. The sight of the human chopping up vegetables with a massive knife three times Pepper’s size was unsettling, but the borrower was comforted by the safety of the high cabinet.
Quiet music played from the human’s phone, down on the counter, while the human hummed along. He seemed practically harmless from here.
Pepper swallowed, thinking of his soulmate, who hadn’t contacted him since their strange ordeal this morning. The knowledge that he was connected somehow to a human made him shudder… that this human could one day figure out who he was— what he was…
“This sucks,” Pepper mumbled under his breath, quiet so that the human below didn’t hear.
He had spent his entire day pacing around his room, unable to focus on his tasks. All he could think about was humans and their freakishly giant hands. He knew that they were dangerous; that knowledge had been instilled in him since he was two years old. But were borrowers and humans similar enough that they could be soulmates? Was there a human out there that wasn’t too terrifying or selfish to actually love a borrower?
With nothing else to focus on, Pepper chose to climb up to the top of the cabinet so that he could spy on the closest human to him. Pepper had lived here for a little over a year, but he didn’t know much about this human, since he spent so much of his time avoiding him. His entire schedule revolved around the human’s.
Pepper stretched his arms above his head absentmindedly as the human scraped the vegetables into a bowl. His stomach growled softly, and he tensed— but it was far too quiet for the human to hear.
Pepper hadn’t had a real vegetable in ages. Most of them were hard to store for long periods of time, so he never really bothered. He’d never been picky about the food he put in his body, as long as he stayed alive.
The human showed terrifying amounts of strengths as he picked up knives and cutting boards with ease, and Pepper tried to imagine actually interacting with a human. The mere thought of a hand closing around him made him shut the idea down entirely.
Thirty minutes later, as the human was sitting down to eat dinner, Pepper stood up and turned around. His mind continued to wander even as he snuck into the walls.
After a moment's hesitation, he interlocked his fingers and held them against his chest. “Hello?”
It took a few moments, but eventually a voice entered his mind. “Hey!”
Pepper swallowed. It was only a voice, but the fact that he was being acknowledged by a human still made him shudder. 
“How was your day?” Pepper asked carefully, leaning against a wooden beam. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was talking to another borrower.
“Oh, it was alright. Classes were a little boring. But me and some of my theater friends signed up for an audition next week, so that’s pretty exciting. How was yours?”
Pepper furrowed his brow. He vaguely understood what most of those words meant, but a few stumped him, like “theater” and “audition.” “That sounds exciting,” he responded, wondering what humans actually did outside of their apartments. “I…”
Fuck. What was he supposed to say?
“I’ve been making some clothes,” he said honestly, shifting on his feet. “I’ve been sort of stressed, and it helps.”
“Oh no, why are you stressed?” His soulmate sounded genuinely concerned. Pepper wasn’t sure how to explain to this human that it was him.
“Oh, you know… just… the whole ‘soulmates’ thing is new to me.” He swallowed hard.
There was a pause. “Yeah, I understand. I didn’t really date much in high school or anything. It’s definitely strange to have this mind connection with you, since we don’t really know each other, but… you just feel special to me. I wish I could know your name.”
Pepper found himself on the ground, with his back against the wall. He rested his head back and exhaled. “Right. It’s… strange.” He tried to picture how tall his soulmate was, if he would tower over him. Who was he kidding, of course he would. “What do you… look like?”
“Oh, well— I’m 5’10”, I’m blonde, and I have blue eyes. My friend says that I look like a ghost sometimes.” His soulmate had a significantly brighter tone when he responded. “What about you? What do you look like?”
Pepper tried to imagine a 5’10” ghost standing over him, and his stomach twisted, both in anxiety and in amusement. “I have black hair,” he said. He hadn’t seen his face in a mirror in ages, but he was fairly certain what his features looked like. “My eyes are… gray. I don’t know how tall I am exactly, but, um, you’re definitely taller than me.”
It was nice not having to lie. 
“You sound handsome,” his soulmate said jokingly. The corner of Pepper’s lips twitched into a smile. “It was nice hearing from you— I have to eat dinner now, but I can talk to you later?”
To Pepper’s surprise, he was disappointed. He nodded at nobody. “Yeah, of course, no worries. Talk to you later.”
——
The salad bowl clinked as Felix set it beside the sink, and he stepped back to brush his hands off. He normally cleaned his dishes immediately as he hated leaving dirty dishes out, but he had some homework to finish up, and then he needed to figure out what song to use for his audition. The dishes could wait.
As he retreated to his couch, opening up his laptop and setting it on his knees, he thought briefly of his soulmate. After their strange conversation this morning, he had spent the day worrying, but talking to him briefly before dinner had alleviated his fears. His soulmate seemed fine, just… a bit stressed.
He typed absentmindedly. He pictured a black-haired, gray-eyed man, sitting with him.
Something clattered in the kitchen, and Felix snapped his head up. His living space was essentially one large room, but his kitchen was a small subsection which was partially out of his line of sight from his couch. “Hello?” He asked warily, knowing full well nobody would respond.
He set his laptop on the couch and walked to the kitchen in a few short strides. His salad bowl was right where he left it, besides the sink, but a fork had been knocked out of his bowl and had fallen to the floor somehow. Huh.
Glancing around the kitchen, he scooped the fork up from the floor, dropping it in the sink. After a moment he picked up the salad bowl and set to work scraping the remaining pieces of spinach into the trash. He might as well clean up while he was here.
A soft voice entered his mind as he was rinsing the bowl out in the sink. “Hey, hi. What are you up to?”
Felix’s hands were full, and he unfortunately couldn’t respond, even if he wanted to. Just as he was about to dry his hands off, the voice continued. “You’re probably busy, no worries. I hope you don’t mind if I just ramble a little. I’m kind of panicking right now and I just need to calm down and the best way to do that is focus on you and take my mind off of things, I think.”
Felix’s soulmate seemed to get himself into a lot of stressful situations. The human raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.
“So, um, I’ve been working on this jacket. I want to make it with some extra pockets— big ones— so that I can carry more stuff. I only have the main torso part done, and I need to make the sleeves. It’s actually fun. I love sewing.”
Listening to his soulmate ramble was actually pleasant. Felix’s mouth quirked into a smile, and as he went to set the clean salad bowl into a cabinet, his hand slipped on it.
“I think— FUCK!”
Amazingly, Felix’s soulmate yelled in his mind just as the bowl hit the counter, shattering in half with an echoing crack. Both Felix and the voice in his mind went silent, and the human stepped back in surprise, staring at the broken glass. “Ugh, of course,” he grumbled, searching to find cleaning supplies.
It was only a few seconds later did he realize that his soulmate had gone quiet. He took a moment to press his hands against his chest. “Hey, everything okay?”
A long, long pause. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, everything’s fine! Sorry. Anyways, I’m using blue fabric for my jacket…”
Felix couldn’t brush the uneasy feeling away as he cleaned up the broken bowl. He could have sworn his soulmate’s shout had been much clearer than his other words. And it almost seemed to have been in response to the bowl shattering. But… that would be impossible. He was completely alone in his apartment.
Of course, he couldn’t see the small borrower concealed behind a mug barely two feet away, clutching a piece of spinach to his chest.
thank you for reading!! i appreciate the kind words and reposts :))
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allsaiint · 2 months
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↠ master chief/gender neutral!reader
↠ word count: 1800
↠ chapter one | chapter two
↠ masterlist
↠ description: john has no idea how to date, but he'll try his best.
↠ warnings: potential for out of character | potential for dismantling of canon | gender neutral!reader may change in future chapters
↠ author’s notes: this is based on a mix of game-canon chief and television series chief. take it as you will. if i did happen to use specific terminology to describe the reader, let me know.
-- /// --
The instant John entered the park, he sensed something was different. So late on a Wednesday evening, the only thing playing in the open air theatre was a group of young violinists, no more than high school aged. There were a few people milling about, most likely parents there to encourage the group. Others were gathered on the outskirts, at the top of the coliseum style seats. They were cloistered in twos and threes, their conversations jumbling together over the sounds of the music.
You were the lone exception, standing towards the top of the steps, half-hidden by shadows. John had never seen you before, though there had been a recent influx of newcomers to the Reach. It was mostly scientists, after a mass exodus had left gaping holes in their military programs.
He caught the way your brow furrowed a split second before he realised he had been staring. You shifted back when he tried for a smile, and gave it up as a lost cause. In some ways, the act of interacting with new people still bemused him.
He was surprised, then, to hear footsteps approach, and turned just enough to witness you falter three steps above him. Over the din of the crowd, he could hear the race of your heart, so fast that he was surprised when you managed an actual greeting.
“You’re new to Reach?” 
He had to change tracks at the last minute, turning it from a statement into a question. He had also had no designs to sit, but found himself doing so anyway when you introduced yourself.
You nodded. “I took a job at the USMC. Have you been here long?”
“My entire career,” he answered, and watched close for your reaction. He suspected that you were unaware of who he was, as most civilians were. Few knew what the Master Chief looked like without his helmet on, and a majority were within the USMC.
His suspicion was proven right when you asked, “You’re a Marine, I take it? How long have you been in?”
Something in the way you asked, or perhaps it was the lack of starstruck wonder he was so used to, made him lie through his teeth, answering, “Thirty years, give or take a few.”
Eyebrows raising, you replied, “You look so young, though.”
A product of spending so much time in a suit of armour, he supposed. Instead though, he said, “You look fairly young yourself. What made you want to take a job here?”
Your smile slipped, and you ducked your head to face your knees. “My homeworld was glassed not long ago. I figured here would be the safest place to go, after that.”
“I’m sorry,” John offered, watching the way you began to pick at a split in your lip before, very abruptly, you turned to snap a tie around your wrist. “I heard about it, after I returned from a deployment. I’m glad you made it out.”
“Me too,” you replied with a quiet laugh. “You’re actually the first person I’ve met outside of work here.”
That made John chuckle and over it, he heard the way your heartbeat skipped. “I’m honoured, really.”
Conversation stalled for a few moments, and John could see how you pretended to watch the violinists to make it seem natural. There was a tension in your shoulders that gave away your desire to say something though, and you were rubbing your palm with your thumb. You would press hard in the very centre then relent before looking at John. It was quite nice to know that your nervousness was genuine, and not borne of being in the presence of the great Master Chief.
“Do you deploy a lot?” you asked at last, drawing John from his thoughts. The way you asked was stilted, as though you had dredged the question from the depths of your desire to say anything at all. “It seems like I never see the same face twice.”
“I do,” he agreed, and wondered what to tell you. The people you would deal with most often were the general ranks, those who stood a worse chance of surviving an encounter with Covenant. “I’m between drops, at the moment, but one will likely come in in the next few days. Covenant has been busier than usual.”
“I heard rumours that they were looking for something, but couldn’t find it. The Spartans either found it first or destroyed it or something like that.” You snapped the tie on your wrist once, hard. “That’s why they started glassing so many planets— they were really upset, whatever they were looking for.”
It always surprised John to find out how close the rumours turned out to be to the truth. He often wondered who started with the truth, and how long it took the details to be lost. It reminded him of the game he played as a child with the other trainees. One would whisper a sentence from across a room or through a glass, and it was the listener’s job to relay what was said. It had taken him a long time to realise that the “game” was actually training, learning to lip-read. The more serious the children took the task, the better the results were, but not until their augmentations were there ever perfect results.
“Well, in any case,” you said, drawing John from his thoughts again and offering him a smile, “maybe when you’re here, you can come visit me at the aquarium. Since I’ll never be able to find and all.”
With a rough, quiet laugh, John said, “Could see about making that work. Do you have to go now?”
“Should,” you agreed, but lingered where you stood. “I have an early shift tomorrow, and a bit of a ride home.”
Shifting to his feet as well, he said, “Let me walk you?”
“Oh, it’s— I live all the way in Immoria. It’s too much to ask—”
“I don’t mind,” John said, cutting your rambling off with a small smile. He found them rising easier in your presence. “I’d rather be sure you get home safe. Call it paranoia.”
“Well, if you insist,” you agreed, though it was with an air of exasperation. The tick playing at the corner of your mouth indicated that you were pleased beneath that though.
The next bullet train was due in five minutes, and you sidled closer as the waiting crowd grew and closed in. The way you flinched was almost imperceptible when you leaned into John, and your laugh was embarrassed.
“I don’t even like eating in the caf at work,” you admitted, but allowed his hand to stay where it was on  your back. “I don’t care much for crowds since—”
“I get it,” John said as the train came to an abrupt stop in front of you. There was just the one, and it hurtled back and forth across the city twenty-four hours a day. You remained close as the train began to move, curling your free hand into his shirt when someone knocked into you. The culprit offered John a smile full of mock apology that dwindled beneath his scowl, until they shifted to give you your space.
You were busy watching the scenery pass, and startled when John asked, “If you dislike crowds, what do you do at the complex?”
“Oh, they stuffed me into some little corner room with a few other researchers. I don’t really have to deal with too many people. Thankfully.”
“I see. What did you do before this?”
You shook your head. “I travelled around, studying species in their natural habitats, how we affected them, boring stuff like that.”
“It doesn’t sound boring,” John said, and watched your eyes widen as though you were surprised to hear it. If he had to describe it, it sounded peaceful. “If you enjoyed it, it wasn’t boring.”
“Well, fair enough,” you said with a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “Do you enjoy what you do?”
“Yes,” he replied on reflex. No one in recent memory had asked him that and, in truth, he was unsure of the truth in his answer. He had never been given the choice to decide if he enjoyed what he did or not.
Something must have shown through in his response, because the look you cast him came with a frown. You seemed to come to some decision or assumption on your own though, and uncurled your fist to lay flat on his chest.
A little too mired in his own thoughts again, John let silence reign after that. He followed you down the street with an absent mind, aware somewhere in the recesses of it that the inattention was unbecoming of the Master Chief. He found it happening with more frequency though, since—
“Well, this is me,” you said. “Thank you for walking me.”
“Like I said, I’d rather know you got home safe,” he replied, taking the building in. It was twenty something stories, but still short compared to most in the city. A pair of doormen stood just inside, prepared to open the doors for you.
You stalled again; it seemed you had something more to say. He heard the pace of your heart increase, and his focus narrowed in on the flicker of your pulse beneath your skin.
“Do you have a data pad, by chance?” you asked after a harsh swallow.
“It’s broken,” John said. His attention turned to your face just in time to register the way it crumpled in disappointment. With more gentleness, he continued, “I’d like to see you again, though.”
The words felt foreign, coming from him. If you noticed, you chose to ignore it when you agreed. John was surprised at how eager you seemed, and found it hard not to let it envelop him.
“At the park tomorrow? Same time?” he said. Again, he was met with eager agreement that made him smile. “Good. Goodnight then.”
Your sharp inhale in response was so subtle that even he almost missed it. Your eyes widened and your throat bobbed before you replied, “Night, John.”
Even you seemed to realise how hoarse you sounded and made to turn away, but not before John caught look of embarrassment flash across your face. He watched you scurry inside, and waited until the door was securely latched before allowing himself the laugh that had been brewing all evening.
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querenciasturniolo · 9 months
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home ⮕ n.s.
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word count: 1.5k
warnings: swearing, she/her pronouns
summary: you’ve been missing your best friend, so you, matt and chris come up with an idea to surprise him
a/n: this is super corny, and poorly written, but i wanted to write something for nick, so sue me
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
requested: no
“I genuinely don’t understand why you won’t just move to LA.”
You laughed and shook your head as you turned on your turn signal, Nick’s voice coming through the speaker. It had been three months since you’d last seen him, and you missed him like crazy. There wasn’t a day that went by when the triplets were in Boston full time that you didn’t see him. Them living in LA half the time sucked, to say the least. Nick was always subtle about telling you he missed you, but you knew he missed you as much as you missed him.
“Because I have a job, you dork. I can’t just drop everything and move to the other side of the country.” You teased, Nick grumbling a backhanded comment that you couldn’t quite understand over the phone. You scoffed as you pulled into your driveway and turned your car off. “When are you guys coming back to Boston?” You asked, disconnecting your phone from your car and stepping out as you pressed your phone to your ear.
“Not soon enough. We have a shit ton of meetings coming up, so it’ll be awhile before we can even think about traveling. How’s work been going for you?”
The rest of your conversation consisted of a million different things, each topic making you think about dropping everything and going to LA, even though you knew Nick was joking. Not seeing him everyday like you used to was the worst, and when you got off of the phone with him, you had an idea. You opened your messages and created a group chat with Matt and Chris.
how much do i have to beg you two to help me surprise nick ?
It felt like it took ages for either of them to respond, but Matt finally replied.
Surprise him how?
You explained your plan to them, telling them how you wanted to book a flight to LA and surprise Nick, especially since you hadn’t seen the three of them in so long. Chris sent a couple thumbs up emojis, while Matt replied and said to let him know when your flight got in so they could pick you up from the airport.
The days leading up to your flight, you kept in constant contact with Matt and Chris, making sure that you were all on the same page, and making sure Nick had no idea what you were planning.
Your flight was long and tiring, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting antsy. You were so excited to finally see all of them, but especially Nick.
Matt and Chris told you that Nick had plans with Madi for most of the day, and wouldn’t be home until later, so your afternoon landing would give you enough time to set up what you had planned. The moment your plane landed, you rushed to get your bag and get to where Matt and Chris were, facetiming Chris immediately.
“Hey, where are you guys?” You asked, Chris flipping the camera to show you what exit gate they were parked at.
“I can’t fucking pronounce that, but that’s where we are.” He said, an amused scoff leaving your lips as you walked out of the gate and looked around, finally spotting the minivan and running over. Chris and Matt got out of the car and practically yanked your bag and carry-on out of your hands to throw into the trunk. The moment they were done, they wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug, all of the air leaving your lungs.
“I’m glad that you guys missed me too, but I can’t breathe.” You said, dramatically straining your voice as they let go.
“We just love you, dude. Accept it already.” Chris said, you rolled your eyes and opened the back door.
“We need content for our Wednesday video, do you mind?” Matt asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You said, Matt nodding to himself as Chris immediately pulled the vlog camera from his bag and turned it on. It took him a few minutes to get the camera to focus, swearing under his breath as he finally lifted the camera to be facing all three of you. You were always surprised at how comfortable they were behind the camera, while you constantly felt awkward any time you were involved in one of their vlogs.
“So, as some of you guys know, Y/n has been one of our best friends for a while. We haven’t seen her in forever, and we all decided that we’d surprise Nick while he’s out with Madi for the day.” Chris said, Matt immediately pulled out of the parking spot and headed towards the exit.
You waved at the camera and gestured behind you to the trunk. “I brought some decorations and gifts for him as well, and Matt and Chris are gonna help me decorate his room.”
Chris flipped the camera on Matt. “Do you have anything to say?” Matt glanced over before looking back at the road.
“Well, Nick has always said that he doesn’t get overly excited about things, but I feel like when he realizes Y/n is in LA for the week, we’ll see if that’s true or not.” He said, you and Chris laughing as he shut the camera off and put it away.
The drive back to their house was filled with the three of you catching up about what’s been going on the last few months in LA and Boston, and when you got back to their house, the three of you rushed up the stairs with your bags and the camera. It took less than an hour to hang the streamers and put the gifts in the bag, the three of you laughing and fucking around the entire time, talking to each other and the camera.
“Nick says he’s about to be home.” Matt said, replying to Nick’s text as you jumped from the desk chair.
“Fuck, where do I go, what do I do?” You said, your heart racing as Chris laughed and shook his head.
“Just stand in the bathroom, we’ll set up the camera. He’ll be confused as hell to see us in his room with a bunch of decorations, and then you can walk out.” He said, you nodding your head as Matt put the camera across from Nick’s door and hit record. You waited until you heard the door open from downstairs and Nick shouted that he was home before you rushed to the bathroom, Chris and Matt making themselves look casual as you waited impatiently.
Time seemed to slow down as Nick ascended the stairs, each step taken making you grow more and more antsy. The door to his bedroom opened and his footsteps paused.
“What the fuck.” He said, a grin growing on your face. You could see Matt looking up from his phone, not looking casual at all. His eyes flickered to you for a split second before meeting Nick’s eyes again. He’s always been awful at being subtle, but it was one of his charming attributes.
“Do you not like your surprise?” Matt asked. You heard Nick scoff and drop something on his desk before walking further into the room.
“This is ridiculous. You guys are acting like I was overseas; I was just hanging out with Madi for a few hours.” He said, his voice monotone as you finally stepped out of the doorway and leaned against the wall, waiting for him to turn and notice you.
“Look around, Nick, I’m sure you’ll find something.” Chris said, Nick frowned and turned his head, his eyes finally meeting yours. He paused for a moment, his reaction time slowed before his face lit up and he rushed towards you. You laughed the moment he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you, your legs kicking out behind you as you hugged him back.
“Holy shit! What are you doing here?! When did you get here?! When did you plan this?! What are you fucking doing here?!” He rambled, your laugh uncontrollable as he finally put you down and just stared at you, completely bewildered and shocked. You saw Chris out of the corner of your eye grabbing the camera and zooming in on the two of you.
“I missed you, you dork. A week ago I booked the flight, requested work off, and Matt and Chris helped me decorate your room and set up the surprise.” You said, Nick’s jaw hitting the floor. He looked over, seeing Chris holding up the camera.
“Oh, you motherfucker.” Nick said, a laugh leaving his lips as he shook his head and looked back at you. “You’re helping me edit this video since you exposed me.” He said. You scoffed and shrugged your shoulders.
You didn’t mind being put to work, even if it just meant you laying on Nick’s bed and talking to him while he edited. He was like your home in a person, you’d never thought you’d meet someone you felt completely comfortable with no matter how strange you acted at times. Neither of you had ever been overly affectionate, physically or emotionally, but you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him what was on your mind.
“This is so fucking weird to say, but I’m so glad I met you.” You said, Chris and Matt aweing behind the camera.
Nick snorted and shook his head. “That’s not weird at all, I’m fucking awesome.” He said, the tone of his voice joking. “I’m glad I met you, too, you loser.” He said. You awed dramatically, pulling him into a ridiculous hug.
“I knew you loved me, you big lug!” You teased, Nick groaning and trying to shove you off of him, Matt and Chris cackling behind the camera.
You knew you’d have to head back to Boston at the end of the week, but for now, you were glad you were home.
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harrywavycurly · 11 months
Text
Walk in the Park Part 1: Welcome Home
Masterlist: here
A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this and please don’t ask where her name came from it took me ages to think of it😂✨
*Eddie doesn’t quite know what to think of you and that’s perfectly fine with you*
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“Hey,” Eddie jumps slightly at the sound of your voice shouting at him from the end of his driveway. “Sorry didn’t meant to scare you, I’m just here to welcome you to the neighborhood.” You explain as you give him a small wave, he places the box that was in his hands down by his feet so he can return the gesture.
“Thanks.” You just smile as you take a few steps closer so you can bend down and grab the box at his feet and before he can even begin to protest you’re already headed for his front door. “I’m Eddie.” He says introducing himself to you as he follows you into house. “You don’t have to do that.” You just ignore him as you place the box on the counter in the small kitchen.
“Actually I do because I’m not only the welcoming committee I’m also the moving help.” You take a look around the kitchen to make sure everything looks good and you roll your eyes when you see a flower shaped air freshener sitting by the oven. “Sorry Gina must’ve forgotten to take this when she moved out.” You mumble as you reach over and snatch it so you can place it in your pocket.
“Uh that’s actually mine.” You feel your cheeks get hot as you look at Eddie who’s rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at you. You silently thank him for letting you avoid the awkward eye contact. “My daughter picked it out she said it’ll make the kitchen pretty.” You just nod your head as you put it back on the counter.
“She has great taste it does add a certain level of sophisticated beauty to this otherwise kinda sad looking kitchen” Eddie chuckles as he sneaks a look at you while you have your head turned so you can check to make sure the microwave works. He can tell by the way you have a set of keys hanging from your belt loop that you must work for the community in some way. “So you have me for two hours and then I have to go check on Fred who lives three houses down from you and he’s a great guy if you ever need to borrow a bottle of whiskey or two.” Eddie doesn’t know how to respond to you so he just nods his head and gives you a tight lipped smile, you realize that he must have no clue what you’re talking about so you just turn so you’re facing him and look him right in the eyes.
“I’ll give you the run down on who to avoid and who to befriend if you’d like?” Eddie just shrugs as he moves the box on the counter to make room for a few more that he knows are in the back of his van.
“Okay.” You smile and head out of the kitchen and out the front door to grab another box while Eddie rushes after you.
“Let’s start with Fred he’s on both lists because with him it depends on his mood but for the most part he’s harmless.” You explain as you grab a small box that has the name Alison on it. “Where’s this going?” Eddie looks at the name on the box and you don’t miss how his face sort of lights up as he takes it from you.
“Sorry these are her most prized possessions and I swore I’d put then in a safe spot until she’s here to unpack it.” He explains with a small smile and you just nod as you grab another box.
“Love a man that keeps his promises.” Eddie just laughs and you can tell by the sound of it that it’s genuine and that makes you smile because so far you were certain he was righting you off as the nosey neighborhood weirdo. You follow him back into the house and place the box next to the first one you brought in, on the kitchen counter while he goes down the hall and turns into the spare bedroom across the hall from the master.
“So who’s on the list of people to avoid?” Eddie asks as he enters the kitchen you turn just in time to watch him put his long hair into a messy bun on the top of his head, a sight you’re very glad you got to witness because it gave you the opportunity to see a few tattoos on his lower hip peeking out from the bottom of his tank top.
“Ah that’s my favorite list.” You joke making Eddie raise an eyebrow as you head back out to the van to get more boxes. “The one who tops it all is Lisa in lot ten she is meaner than a junk yard dog.” Eddie looks down the street to see if he can get a look at Lisa’s front yard from his driveway. “She doesn’t ever leave her house unless it’s to sit on her porch and yell at people, her sons come visit every week and they are sweethearts.” You add and Eddie feels himself blush when he looks over and sees you bent over reaching for a box that’s towards the front of the van, he’s quick to look away when you finally get a hold of it.
“How do you know all this?” He asks as he takes the box out of your hands so you can grab another one.
“Oh it’s a perk of running the place.” Eddie feels his eyes widen as he realizes you’re the one he’s been emailing for the last month setting this place up for him and his little girl. “It’s nice to finally meet you by the way.” You add and Eddie just nods as you walk past him and into the house.
“Likewise.” He mumbles as he tries to mentally go through all the things he’s said to you over the past month hoping none of it was too embarrassing or weird. He takes a moment to himself standing in the middle of his driveway as he looks at the trailer hoping he’s making the right choice, he knows they need a fresh start but he just hopes Alison’s happy here because for right now that’s all he cares about.
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gougarfem · 4 months
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how was the process of getting a dumbphone!
oh my god this is something i'm so excited to talk about, sorry it took me so many months to respond!
getting a dumbphone improved my quality of life so so much. i knew my screentime was high, but didn't realise it was a genuine psychological addiction until i quit. the first few days were extremely rough. time seemed to pass about ten times slower, and i was forced to fill the hours with various hobbies and activities. i know we all love to tell people to touch grass, but i really did have to connect with nature and it did wonders for my mental health.
i think for the first three days i was constantly restless and horribly irritable, looked around for my phone every few minutes, felt intense boredom and even cried a few times lol. your addiction may not be as extreme as mine was and this varies from person to person. however, after about a week i realised i remembered everything i'd done each day, because it was filled with intentional activities and little moments of peace rather than a blur of scrolling. i also wasn't on adhd meds yet, which is something i'll talk about in another post.
not having everything at your fingertips is uncomfortable, but (and it's a cliche) you really start to appreciate the world around you more. i looked forward to spending time with my family, because it filled time and i wasn't half-involved in my phone the entire time. i use an mp3 player to listen to music, and uploading music to it is a meaningful and interesting activity, rather than just shuffling a playlist. i listen to whole albums instead of being flooded with dopamine from spotify firing recommended songs at me. i appreciate music more, i make CDs for friends, i have to be intentional in discovering new artists and music. if i'm having an interesting conversation online, i look forward to going home and logging onto my laptop to continue it. i don't spend my commute, time in class, or time with friends texting somebody else. everything feels more intentional, spaced out, and interesting, even the things i do online.
i also found i stopped performing in every activity i did. i stopped thinking about whether i could post it to instagram or instantly send a picture in a discord server. i started picking up new hobbies for myself, not for an online audience, and living in the moment more. this is really important in the modern age, although again uncomfortable.
the best part was how my connections with others increased through having a dumbphone. i started calling friends rather than messaging on five platforms at once, and they started reciprocating. my message threads are continuous, coherent conversations, rather than sending memes. people realised they have to intentionally reach out to me, and i lost relationships with people who weren't interested in that, but strengthened connections with people who did put in the effort (many of whom i barely talked to in the past). i give people my phone number, not my social media handle, and they actually start conversations with me rather than hitting follow. i get to hear my friends' voices when they have drama to share and realise it takes me forever to type on my flip phone keyboard. again, everything is intentional, takes time, and richer than when i had a smartphone.
i genuinely would recommend it to absolutely everyone (i've kind of become like a crossfit guy in telling people to get a dumbphone lol). i won't pretend it's easy, and most people make excuses - for the first few months of having a dumbphone, i was bedbound or in hospital, and truly relied on online connections to pass time and communicate. it still hugely improved my life. however, no matter your situation there are always, always better options than scrolling an app, and you deserve to pass your time in a memorable way. i think most people don't realise they're addicted/reliant on smartphones, and the idea of quitting is horribly uncomfortable, but at least for me, the benefits were worth it.
i'm happy to answer any questions, i literally could talk about this topic for hours (even if it's stuff like "how would i use x app" "how would i replace x smartphone function").
ditch your smartphone babe, u deserve better <33
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morgue-friends · 1 year
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Evil Dead Rise | Deadite! Ellie x Female Reader
Summary: Being a babysitter for a single mom and her three kids shouldn't be this scary.
(Plotline follows the plot of the movie except the kandarian demon wins, of course.)
Warnings: Very nsfw, a lot of gore, oral sex, age gap, dub-con, multiple character deaths, and the kandarian demon is his own warning.
"See, doesn't this look so much better?"
You put the pink barbie hair brush on the table and handed Kassie her amalgamation of a plaything. Sitting on your lap were clumps of blonde plastic doll hair. The other two children looked at their younger sister and smiled at her profound weirdness for her self crafted guardian, 'Staffanie'.
"If she hurts someone with that, I'm blaming you." Beth took a look at your handiwork and simply shook her head.
"I'm also blaming you!" Ellie's playful voice chimed in from the kitchen. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like forever. Her piercing blue eyes were so beautifully expressive to you. They made every little expression she made for each of her different emotions look so elegant. You could only dream of having eyes like hers.
The eye contact between you two broke when Beth picked up her backpack and started passing around gifts. She handed you a rusty silver keychain that was in the shape of a guitar.
"Sorry, I got caught in the rain with this one. My bag was drenched." She clenched her stomach in pain and hunched over.
"Hey, you good?" You gave her a questioning look, and she offered you a pitiful smile. "Ate some shitty foreign food." You didn't question her further and the conversation moved on to the topic of Ellie's freshly dyed hair. Everyone at the table complimented her on it, but when it was your turn, her children looked at you with knowing faces.
"Oh, I almost forgot! I got this for your dad." Beth pridefully brandished the cheap tourist mug at the table, and everyone's faces fell flat.
"Uh, I'm going to take the kids to get pizza…" You expected Ellie to give you a look of approval, but she only kept her intense stare with her sister. There was a lot of sorrow and hurt within her eyes.
"Danny can do it. You can go home for the night. Thank you." The way she said was completely robotic and monotone, she was clearly upset, and you didn't want to press her on it. She hired you to babysit the kids while she worked, and that's all your job was, nothing more and nothing less.
Feeling out of place, you said goodnight to everyone, grabbed your stuff, and left. You weren't going to debate with her as they weren't your kids, and you've only known them for a couple of months. You had just moved in and needed a cheap enough place to stay that you can balance with your college tuition when she offered you the job.
Ellie couldn't afford to pay you after the first month, but you still stayed and helped out. With not having any kids of your own and barely knowing anyone in the city, you felt like you had a genuine family and a home away from home. You'd be a complete liar if you said you didn't have any kind of romantic feelings for the single mother.
You got in the elevator and watched as the kids came running behind you. They all had somber faces, but it was Kassie that leaned her face into your side and let you hold her until the elevator stopped at your floor.
"Don't fuck the pizzeria up please I like eating there too. Call me when you get back in the house." With that their eyes perked up and brightened and they all had smiles once again. The elevator closed behind you and you let your shoulders slump. You put the key in your apartment door and didn't even have to look in the mirror beside your front door to know your eyes were watery and you were moments from crying.
You felt like such an idiot, she hadn't even divorced yet, she was practically your boss, and she was old enough to be your own mother yet here you were catching feelings like they were sicknesses. You threw your guitar keychain against the wall and buried your face into your couch.
You were going to sleep this off. Yeah, that's exactly what you were going to do. Just get up in the morning and do your online classes while babysitting the kids and hope that this would all be swept over in the morning.
You hadn't even realized you dozed off face down on the couch until the room shaking awoke you. With hair strewn wildly across your face, you got down on the ground and braced yourself for the earthquake. When it was over and you were still alive you almost thanked God until you realized the kids had never called you to let you know they were home and the Earth had just decided to fucking shake a few moments ago.
With shaking hands, you snatched your phone off the floor and panicked when you realized there was no service. This was common after earthquakes but not at all good in your predicament. You left your stuff, and more than likely, your front door unlocked and ran upstairs just to see the kids coming out of the elevator.
"You're alright!" You were practically going to hug them until Ellie took all three of them into a tight embrace. Her black flower tattoo displayed beautifully on her arm as she pulled Danny closer.
Before you could back up, she used her left hand to give you a gesture indicating you to come over and join the hug. She didn't have to ask twice because you were over there in an instant. Her arm wrapped around you, and she pulled you tighter into the hug with the kids.
As the kids headed back into the apartment, they were complaining about the dropped pizza and you were going to go in too until Ellie stopped you. She gave her sister a look, telling her to go inside and give the both of you a minute alone.
"Listen I-"
"Wait. Let me speak."
She interrupted you by putting her finger in the air.
"You need to get some sleep. You look tired as hell. Get some sleep, and I'll call you later, or I'll go down to see you, and then we can have this conversation. Sounds good?"
You were too stunned to speak, so she put both of her hands around the sides of your head and made you nod 'yes' to her question.
"Now go get some rest." The way she leaned in was so close that your lips were almost touching. She was quite taller than you, so if you wanted to let your lips meet hers, you'd have to stand on your tippy toes to compete with her god-given model height.
With that, you went back downstairs feeling like you were on cloud nine without even having to get a kiss. Just the implication was enough for you. It was almost pathetic. You could bet you even had a bit of a skip in your walk as you returned back to your apartment. Once you got in, you took a hot shower and changed into some fresh pajamas. You were going to watch a movie, but there was still no service or cable connection.
You grabbed a couple of your textbooks and dropped them on the bed with a sigh. Ellie told you to get some rest, but you were far too excited to sleep. She told you she'd either call you or come see you after the kids were asleep and that had your all nerves on high alert. For her to think you'd go to sleep after hearing something like that was comical.
After a while you had your phone sitting on your desk far away from you so you could get some work done without having to check to see if you had service or see the time to see if there was still a chance of Ellie coming.
You had no indication of how time was passing unless you wanted to measure your growing anxiety and fatigue. It was getting to the point that it was becoming difficult just to keep your eyes open. They felt heavy, and if you didn't focus hard enough, you were sure you were going to fall asleep right there.
A gentle knock at the door startled you momentarily. That wasn't Ellie's usual knock, so you disregarded it to probably a tenant knocking at the wrong door.
The knock came again, albeit much more forceful this time.
"Ellie?" Your question sounded much more excited than you intended to out loud, and you were hoping she wouldn't think youb being too giddy about this whole thing was obnoxious. You got closer to the door and tried to look through the peephole. Someone's hand was clearly in front of it. There was nothing but darkness in what should have been a well lit hallway.
"I'm sorry I left you waiting, I had to do some laundry, and the kids wouldn't go to bed." Her voice sounded relatively normal, but something was clearly off.
"Are the lights out cause I can't see out of the peephole?" You had to pause for a minute and realize what you've just said. There was no reason to feel like you needed to see out of the peephole to let Ellie in. You two have known each other for months, and you trusted her. All that and yet your gut was still telling you that you needed to see who you were unlocking the door for.
"No, the lights are fine. And isn't it too late to start playing peekaboo?"
Her last remark sounded rather sarcastic, and you began to feel bad about making her wait. Carefully, you undid the door lock and the dead bolt and allowed the door to swing open. You felt too embarrassed about the whole situation and what happened earlier to even look at her when she came in.
She closed the door behind herself, and you plopped down on the couch. You moved your textbooks off the other side of the couch and stared at the black TV screen.
"So, uh- about earlier, I'm really trying not to get involved more than I already am, but -"
You were cut off when you started to smell something odd in the room. You sniffed the air more intently for a moment. Something just didn't smell right. The air smelled rotten if that was even how you'd even describe it. There was also something lingering with it, possibly sulfur. You finally turned around to look at her. She was staring dead in your face, as well as being much closer than you expected her to be.
You quickly got off the couch and your jaw practically dropped. You backed up from the sight in front of you and knocked a glass vase off the living room table. Shards of glass sprinkled themselves across the floor at your feet upon impact. You wanted to scream, but no noise would leave your mouth.
What stood in front of you was not Ellie. It was just wearing her as a costume for the time being... She was soaked in water, and her hair was practically still dripping onto the floor as if she had just taken a shower in all her clothes. Dark red splatters coagulated against her skin. It looked clumpy and uneven in some areas, meaning it was possibly a mixture of blood and scattered pieces of flesh.
Her face appeared gaunt and hollow, and those once beautiful eyes of hers were sunken and looked somewhat swollen. Her face stayed in the same expression you saw while you were sitting on the couch. She had the widest smile you've ever seen her with. It looked utterly unnatural, and like her skin was pulled in that direction.
"What were you saying again?" When she held out her hand to gesture for you to continue talking, you could see that it was visibly coated in blood.
She had a set of uneven black long claws on her fingers. Her nails were nothing like that when you saw her earlier. They looked like they belonged to some kind of feral animal, and they looked abhorrently dangerous.
"Ellie what happened to you-"
"-Finissssh what you were saying."
Her voice was abnormally deep and distorted, just hearing it made you feel like you should have dragged your own nails through your face until you felt bone. Tears began to fall from your eyes, and that only made her smile even wider.
"I was saying t-that, I don't want to get too involved in your life and with your kids." Her fingers indicated for you to go on, and you did.
"It's just- I like you, I always have."
Your hands went to your face to wipe off the assault of tears that were hurdling down. Ellie's smile dropped, and her facial expression fell flat. Her eyes were completely unreadable. It was almost like she was dead. She was silent for a moment, staring at you in an unnatural and unnerving way.
"That's so sweet of you to say… I'll pass the message down to Ellie and her fatherless children in hell."
You could feel your back press up against the wall as you wanted to do nothing more to put distance in between you and whatever this thing was. It seemed like the more you moved away from Ellie, the closer she would get to you, as if you two were moving in sync.
"What the fuck are you?!" That felt like a stupid question to ask as you weren't even sure if you wanted the answer. You could see a box cutter sitting on the window sill to your left, and you slowly moved in the direction while making sure to keep eye contact with this intruder.
"Where are the kids?" Your voice cracked up with a whine as it felt like your heart was sinking. Ellie, not answering either of the questions, caused you to sob and clench your chest. It just stood there and stared at you, as if this was funny to it. Once you were finally in front of the window, you gripped the box cutter tightly and held it behind your back.
The closer she moved toward you, the more of her you could see. Just looking at the open wounds and gashes on her made your stomach clench in disgust. There was a severed finger hanging on what appeared to be a tendon attached to her foot. The finger was small…
"Don't come any closer!" You held up the box cutter and ejected the blade. Ellie was unphased by your threat as she stepped slowly onto the shards of glass from the shattered vase. Her smile remained unwavering as the glass crunched under weight, and the soles of her feet began to bleed.
Her clawed bloody hand snatched up yours in what felt like the pins and needles against your skin from how tight of a grip she had. The grip made your hand squeeze painfully around the silver box cutter. The screams you let out were so loud as you hoped you woke up someone, anyone to come help you.
Involuntarily, your hand holding the box cutter began to move toward her face. All you could do was wince and look away as she made you carve into the delicate flesh of her forehead. The sounds of skin ripping under the blade felt like listening to nails on a chalkboard. You looked up at her and saw she had used your hand to carve a giant thick pentagram into her face.
The cackle she let out was so distorted and broken up that it sounded like she was choking. Her clawed hand wrapped around your neck, making you drop the box cutter, and she lifted you up and pinned you against the window. You shut your eyes tightly and tried to force yourself to believe you were sleeping and that this was all one long bad nightmare.
An impossibly long tongue slipped out of her mouth, and it grazed against the side of your face. Her licking you was only the dreaded reaffirmation you needed to know that this was in the real world and not your imagination.
"You think I can't smell that?" The expression of confusion was evident on your face while she held you up even higher.
Ellie took a long, deep inhale of the air before she exhaled. She did it again before her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Droplets of blood from freshly carved pentagram in her face leaked into her corneas and made it appear like she was crying blood. You had no idea what she was smelling in the air other than the putrid, metallic smell of the trail of blood she brought into your home.
"You reek of sin." She used her free hand to drag her claw up your leg and before stopping at your inner thigh. The burning sting of your skin being sliced made your knee jerk into her stomach, and she promptly responded by banging your head against the wall.
She resumed what she was doing prior to assaulting you, and you tried your hardest to stay still.
One of her bloody clawed fingers slipped into your pajama shorts, and you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing your legs shut.
"Uh-uh." She shook her finger at you in response, and her smile only deepened until you could see the internal pink muscles of her cheeks.
"You shut your legs now as if you weren't about to spread them for this whore." It would be fraudulent denial to act like you weren't the slightest bit aroused when you heard Ellie at the door, you thought you'd be getting laid not having to be battered around by this blood soaked pretender.
"You're not Ellie!"
"Does it matter?" The tone of her voice switched to its normal sound and depth as if this thing was trying to manipulate you. You were going to protest further until her hand creeped deeper into your shorts while you had your guard down, making you yelp. Her fingers ghosted over the folds of your cunt as you struggled desperately to get away.
"I slit the groupie's unborn bastard baby from the womb of her corpse, and I'll rip yours open next."
Within an instant you stopped moving and remained entirely limp under her grasp.
"See, now you're being good. Remember, only good girls get rewarded."
Your jaw dropped when she said that, as you would frequently tell the youngest child Kassie to prevent her from getting into physical altercations with her siblings with the promise of her favorite candy.
"I don't have any candy, but I may just let you walk away alive to tell their story." Ellie's sing-songy voice made you feel like that statement was a complete lie.
You responded in silence, and that made her giggle. It was Ellie's giggle, but the person holding you against the wall wasn't Ellie. They may have looked and sounded like her, but there was no indication of life behind those glassy eyes.
Slowly, she loosened her grip around you, and you began to slide down the window. You butt hit the window sill, and your back pressed back against the glass panes only to hear the wooden frame creak. This was an old and cheap apartment building, and you both knew that there was no way the window would support your weight being pressed against it.
"Imagine falling from this height." You didn't have to imagine it because your brain had already pictured the hundred different scenarios that could lead to you falling to your death. Her comment sounded more like she was curious about seeing you splatter and turn into a red stain on the pavement of the alleyway rather than a threat.
You were snapped back to reality when your shorts and underwear were yanked down your legs. Ellie sank down onto her knees, and both of your legs were pulled up around her shoulders. There was literally nothing you could do to get yourself out of this. There was no way you could save yourself because it's not like you even knew what this damned thing really was.
Her unnaturally long tongue creeped out of her mouth, and it slowly started lapping at your wet heat. This thing, it was teasing you. You were dripping wet, and it was going to tease you. It banged your head against the wall, crushed your hand, sliced open your thigh with one of its claws, and it was going to sit here and tease you… All while masquerading around in Ellie's body.
You bit your lip to keep a whimper from escaping your mouth and let your head hit back against the window panel. The window frame gave you another warning creak, and you just about sobbed. Ellie paid your crisis no mind as she used her tongue to rub wet circles around your clitoris.
Her tongue appeared incredibly darkened in color to the point it looked black, and the saliva dangling around it was abnormally thick. It was almost like a slime. It had been a while since you'd touched yourself, so your body felt far too sensitive for its own good. This senseless pleasure, unfortunately, did not distract your mind from how you would meet your impending death.
This thing in Ellie's body was just aching to kill you, and you doubted that letting it touch you like this would change its mind. For something so dangerous, she was using her tongue against you rather softly. The lewd noises that your body made in response to her generous licking held a veil of shame over your face. You've just never felt so conflicted like this.
When the tips of her black claws pierced your thighs, it was almost like she was reminding you not to get too comfortable. Your head practically slammed itself against the window when she thrusted her unusual tongue into your pleading hole. Several gasps left your lips as her tongue explored you internally and teased the insides of your walls, making your nails dig into the wooden window sill.
The window gave you another warning creak, and this one was far louder than the others. One of her hands left from around your thighs and relocated to between your legs and resumed the same movements her tongue did around your clitoris just this time, it felt much more aggressive. Her thumb applied pressure around your sensitive bundle of nerves while her tongue danced along the flesh of the insides of your walls.
That dead expression in her eyes never changed throughout any of this, those soulless blue orbs stared at you so intensely that you were worried at any moment she'd change her mind about sparing your life. The pace of her thumb quickened, and that familiar knot began to form in your lower stomach, indicating that you were getting close to climaxing.
Slowly but steadily, you were tetering at the brim of being on the edge of orgasming. Just when you could feel your cunt start to clench up, her tongue poked and prodded at your g-spot and as a response the muscles of your pelvis tightened up and you came brutally with a rocking of your hips. You could feel the gush of your release start to drip down over your puckered hole.
Without a warning, she completely stopped everything she was doing and removed her tongue from your slick heat.
"What did I do -"
A clawed hand tangled itself into your hair, and you weren't allowed to resist when she forced both of your mouths to connect. The pressure of the added weight against the window caused the glass panes to crack. That darkened black tongue slipped into your mouth and forced itself down your throat. It felt like she was trying to suffocate you to death with it. The taste of blood and the juices of your release overwhelmed the senses of your tastebuds.
The taste was intoxicating, and the lack of oxygen was making you feel lightheaded. After that, even your jaw was beginning to hurt. She yanked her tongue out of your mouth abruptly, and you watched the long appendage slowly slide back into her mouth. Those empty eyes stared at you for a moment without saying anything. You feared for the worse and tightly shut your eyes, praying that maybe the window would collapse before this thing could do whatever it had planned for you.
"I think I'll keep you."
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