#she graduated high school a junior in college

[ultrone]

we never change !

you piss shauna off during a hockey match after not seeing each other for three years ҂ smut with plot; childhood friends to strangers/enemies, aggressive hockey player!shauna, powerbottom!shauna, angry fuck ﹙6k wc﹚ special thanks to @soffsh for teaching me abt hockey for this lmaoooo

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the air was crisp and cold. you stood at the center of the rink, your breath fogging up in the cold air. the weight of the hockey stick in your hand was comforting, a steady reminder of countless hours of practice and the fact that you needed to win this game to make it to nationals. the referee held the puck aloft, ready for the face-off.

on the opposite side of the rink, facing you, were the wiskayok university team—your old schoolmates and the team you played with back in your freshman year of college, nearly three years ago. you expected to face them, but you weren’t aware of who was on their team now. as you scanned the line of players, your heart skipped a beat. there she was, shauna shipman, wearing the familiar wiskayok jersey, her face set in a determined frown.

seeing her felt like a punch to the gut. you had played together since childhood, all through high school and into your freshman year of college. while you were part of the hockey team throughout those years, she chose soccer because her best friend, jackie, had convinced her to do so. nevertheless, the two of you would meet at the rink every day after your respective practices and engage in one-on-one games for hours.

however, you wanted more. you truly desired a future in hockey and couldn’t bear to let it go after graduating. so, when you were scouted for a better team, you couldn’t turn down the offer. unfortunately, it was about a four-hour drive away from wiskayok, which wasn’t too far, but still significant.

since you left, shauna kept up with her sticks and equipment, going to the rink alone. you figured the hockey coach must have noticed her talent and invited her to join the team, and she agreed. it made sense because she always talked about hating soccer and wanting to play hockey with you instead. you never understood why she didn’t.

everything you learned about shauna after transferring was against your own will, including that she had a big fight with jackie back at the end of junior year because she was fucking her boyfriend behind her back, or so you heard from tai, your best friend. it was a shitty thing to do, but by then, you couldn't care less. tai was the only one you kept in touch with over the years, as shauna completely ghosted you when she found out you were leaving; it hurt you a lot, but she had always been that stubborn and resentful.

you hadn't seen her since you transferred, and now, there she was, standing on the opposing team. though you had to admit that hockey suited her better; you always felt she was too aggressive for soccer and way too skilled at hockey. you wondered if she even noticed you yet.

the referee's whistle cut through your thoughts, and as the puck dropped, the game began.

the first minutes of the game raced by. the puck was a streak of black against the white ice, darting back and forth as both teams fought for control. you could hear the scrape of skates against the ice, the thud of bodies colliding, the sharp crack of sticks meeting in a battle for the puck. shauna proved herself a skilled player, even better than you remembered—swift and precise in her movements, her stick-handling skills evident. despite the shock of seeing her, you found yourself matching her stride for stride, a sort of rivalry flaring up.

one thing that stood out about shauna was how easily she could be provoked. it surprised you a little, as whenever you played together back in the day, although she was always determined, there was always an underlying gentleness in the way she played against you. nevertheless, it didn’t surprise you as much, as you always knew she was fiercely competitive. any perceived slight or challenge on the ice would set her off. a well-placed block, a successful steal of the puck, or even a smirk after a well-executed play could get her blood boiling. you knew this, and you used it to your advantage. you played her like you would any opponent but with the added knowledge of what made her tick. you could see it in the way her eyes narrowed, the way her grip tightened on her stick.

as shauna streaked toward the goal with the puck, determination etched on her face, you anticipated her next move. swiftly, you closed the distance, delivering a decisive hit that sent her crashing into the boards with a resounding thud. pinning her there for a moment, you watched as frustration flashed across her features. before she could react, a teammate swooped in, stealing the puck from under her nose and launching it into the net with a triumphant slap shot.

“missed me, shippy?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips. enraged, shauna shoved you with all her might, fury and disbelief evident in her eyes, before swiftly skating away, her focus now fueled by a burning desire for retaliation.

as the game continued, shauna’s anger seemed to intensify. she began to target you more frequently, her every move a clear indication of her growing resentment. each time she had the puck, she would charge at you with renewed vigour, her eyes locked onto yours as if challenging you to a duel. her aggressive playstyle was a stark contrast to the one-on-one games of the past, and it was clear that she was using her pent-up anger as fuel for her performance on the ice. despite the tension, you couldn’t help but admire her dedication and skill. it was evident that hockey was indeed her true calling.

as the game neared its conclusion, both teams remained locked in a tie with only a few minutes left on the clock. seizing an opportunity, you found yourself in close proximity to shauna, who had previously pushed you aggressively. seeking revenge, you swiftly tripped her, causing her to stumble and fall to the ice. without hesitation, you followed up by literally sitting on her back, pinning her down.

"get the fuck off me," shauna spat out in frustration as she struggled beneath you. you couldn't help but giggle at her reaction, but before you could react further, she exploded with rage. as soon as stood up and turned to skate away, she leaped onto your back, sending both of you crashing to the ground. you quickly turned around to face her, only to receive a punch square in the face.

the referee’s whistle pierced the air, bringing the game to an abrupt halt. he quickly skated over, placing himself between you and shauna. you could feel the warm trickle of blood from your nose, but you swiftly wiped it away with your glove, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

“shipman, penalty box, five minutes!” the referee commanded, pointing towards the box. his voice echoed in the silent rink, the spectators waiting with bated breath for shauna’s reaction.

“that’s not fair! she started it!” shauna protested, her voice filled with indignation. but the referee was unyielding.

“another word, shipman, and it’ll be a game misconduct. now move!” he threatened.

with a frustrated huff, shauna begrudgingly skated towards the penalty box, shooting you a glare as she passed by.

as the game resumed, shauna’s absence on the ice was immediately noticeable. her aggressive defense and quick reflexes had been a formidable force for the wiskayok team. but now, with her in the penalty box, your team seized the opportunity. not even two minutes had passed when your teammate intercepted a pass, swiftly maneuvering through the opposing team’s defense. with a powerful shot, the puck sailed into the net, the crowd erupting in cheers. your team scored.

the next few minutes were a blur of action. your team maintained control of the puck, keeping the pressure on the wiskayok team. by the time the five-minute penalty had elapsed and shauna was allowed back on the ice, it was too late. the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. your team won.

as the final buzzer reverberated through the arena, the crowd and your teammates erupted into cheers. you exchanged high-fives and congratulatory pats before they headed to the locker rooms, leaving their gear behind for the equipment managers to handle. however, you had to take a detour.

the punch shauna had landed on your face during the game was more than just a minor scrape. your nose continued to bleed, and the area around your eye was beginning to swell. the team’s medical staff insisted on examining you before allowing you to join your teammates.

so, while the rest of your team celebrated in the locker room, you found yourself in the serene confines of the medical room, undergoing examination by the nurse. she tended to your wound, applied an ice pack to reduce the swelling around your eye, and provided you with pain relief medication. by the time you were done and made your way to the locker room, it was empty.

as you took off your jersey and removed your shoulder pads, along with the rest of your equipment, you placed them with your teammates' gear. now only wearing a sports bra and some compression shorts, you walked towards the sink, your steps echoing in the empty locker room. standing in front of the mirror, you stared at your reflection, analyzing the wound on your face. the bruise was already starting to darken, and a trickle of dried blood marked the spot where shauna's punch had landed.

sighing, you turned away from the mirror and made your way back to the lockers. the place was quiet, the only sound being the gentle hum of the overhead lights and the faint echo of departing footsteps from the rink. you were about to reach for your bag when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. a familiar rhythm, a familiar pace. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

shauna.

turning to face her, you couldn't help but notice her appearance, as if she had just emerged from a shower. her hair, typically secured in a tight ponytail during games, cascaded in damp, loose waves around her shoulders, with droplets of water glistening at the ends. the wet strands shimmered under the locker room lights, adding a softness to her otherwise fierce demeanour. she sported snug black shorts that accentuated her athletic thighs, complemented by a clean wiskayok jersey. her feet were clad in white ankle socks and comfortable slippers.

her face, usually set in a determined frown during games, was now more relaxed. the warmth from the shower had brought a rosy hue to her cheeks and nose, a contrast against the chilly air of the locker room. yet, despite her outward calmness, there was an unmistakable anger in her eyes as they fixed on you.

"what the hell was that?" shauna's voice cut through the air, laced with frustration and anger.

you swallowed hard, meeting her intense gaze. "i don't know what you're talking about," you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “it’s a game, shauna. i played to win, just like you.”

"don't play dumb," shauna retorted, her fists clenched at her sides. "you know exactly what i’m talking about. tripping me, sitting on me like that. that was a cheap shot."

"you're one to talk," you shot back, "what about that punch to my damn face?"

“that was nothing but a love tap,” shauna replied, stepping forward. her tone remained angry, but there was a hint of something else now, an underlying emotion you couldn't quite place.

“you call that a love tap?” you scoffed, closing the distance until you were standing mere inches apart. "looked more like you were trying to knock my teeth out," you shot back, unable to contain the sharpness in your voice. the simmering anger from the game boiled over, fueled by the memory of shauna's punch.

"maybe i was," she replied, a dangerous glint lighting up her eyes. "maybe i wanted to teach you a lesson."

you glared at her, refusing to back down. "for what? for winning? for succeeding in life more than you?"

you could see the fury in her eyes, like a gathering storm ready to consume you both.

"no," she said, taking another step forward until your chests nearly touched. "for what you stole from me. for what you took away."

your heart skipped a beat at her words, and suddenly, you felt the warmth of her breath on your face. the tension in the locker room thickened, permeating every corner.

"i didn't take anything from you, shauna," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i moved on, and so should you."

"i can't move on," she growled, her hands gripping your biceps tightly. “not when you left me,” she hissed, her eyes burning with anger and hurt. the intensity of her grip made you wince slightly, but you didn't pull away. "you abandoned me, and now you show up here, playing against me, rubbing it in my face!"

"i didn't abandon you, shauna," you countered, your voice rising to match hers. "i left because i had the chance to play for a better team, and you chose to cut ties with me. if you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not staying in touch."

"whatever," she muttered, her voice low and husky, betraying the blend of emotions she was feeling.

"well, if you think that's going to change anything between us, then you're fucking mistaken," you spat, seething with anger. "i don't owe you an explanation, and i sure as hell don't owe you an apology for doing what i love. this was my dream, shauna, and you knew that."

the words hung between you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the locker room. for a moment, you stood there, staring at each other, your eyes locked in a silent battle. then, without warning, shauna let go of your now bruised biceps and slid her hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

"you're right," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. "you don't owe me anything."

you couldn't help but shiver at her touch, even though you were braced for it. shauna's grip on your hips was firm, and unyielding, as if she was trying to hold onto you in a way she couldn't while you were on the ice. her eyes burned into yours, the anger and hurt now replaced with a raw intensity that turned your legs into jelly.

"but i want something," she continued, her lips grazing your ear, her breath hot and heavy against your skin. "and i'm not above taking it," she murmured, her hand sliding lower, gripping your ass tightly.

a surge of electricity ran through you at the unexpected touch. it was aggressive, almost painful, but it sent a wave of neediness through your body.

"what are you doing?" you gasped in surprise.

"what i should’ve done a long time ago," shauna growled, her lips brushing against your neck. her hands moved up, sliding under your sports bra, caressing your breasts. you couldn't help but moan at the sudden touch, your nipples hardening under her fingers.

"you're going to pay for what you've done to me, and i'm going to enjoy every second of it," she promised, her voice low and thick with lust.

her grip on your breasts tightened, and you couldn't help but lean into her. the anger and hurt that had been building up between you for years seemed to dissolve, replaced by a raw, animalistic need.

"i'll give it to you," you whispered, your voice trembling. "anything you want."

her hands moved down your abdomen, her fingers tracing the edge of your shorts. you bit your lip as she paused, her eyes never leaving yours.

"good," she breathed, her voice a blend of longing and frustration. "because i'm going to take everything you've got."

before you could respond, she pushed you back into the lockers, her lips crashing into yours in a fierce kiss. it was aggressive, full of the pent-up emotions you'd harboured for years. her tongue probed your mouth, seeking entrance, and you opened for her willingly.

you groaned into her mouth, your hands grabbing at her wet hair, tangling in the strands as you kissed. her tongue danced with yours, possessive and aggressive as if she was trying to claim you in that moment.

shauna broke away from the kiss, panting heavily. "i should’ve punched you harder," she growled, her eyes flashing with anger. yet, beneath the rage, there lingered something else—desire. she pressed you against the lockers once more, her body molding against yours. "you ruined everything, you know that?" she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"i know," you whispered, your own breath coming out in ragged gasps. "i'm sorry, shauna." you reached up to cup her face, trying to offer some semblance of comfort or apology, but she slapped your hand away. her anger was still palpable, and you couldn't blame her for feeling that way. "but you can't keep living like this, always holding onto the past. you need to move on."

instead of responding, she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "maybe i don't want to move on. maybe i just want to make you suffer for what you did." and with that, she bit down on your earlobe, hard enough to leave her teeth marks on your soft skin. you clenched onto her shoulders to contain a scream, grunting instead.

her words were harsh, but their effect on you was undeniable. your body reacted to her aggression. you moaned softly, arching into her touch. she smirked against your skin, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination.

"you like that, don't you?" she asked, her tone dangerous. "you like being hurt by me." she tugged on your ear once more, coaxing another soft moan from you. "admit it."

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "yes," you breathed, your breath hitching. "i do." you couldn't deny it any longer. there was something thrilling about shauna's anger, the way she could make you feel both pain and pleasure simultaneously.

"get on the bench," she commanded, her voice husky. you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but the look on her face left no room for argument. you complied, settling onto the nearest bench and bracing yourself against the cold wood. she kneeled between your legs, her gaze never leaving your face. "spread them further," she ordered, her tone firm and commanding. you obeyed, feeling exposed and vulnerable as she knelt before you.

shauna's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. she reached out, trailing her hands along your inner thighs with deliberate slowness. without warning, she pushed your legs apart even more, spreading you wide open. you gasped, your heart racing as she lowered her head, her warm breath teasing the sensitive but clothed skin between your legs. she moved her lips towards your inner thighs, which had just been caressed by her hands, and began placing open-mouthed kisses upon them. with each touch of her lips against your skin, the dampness in your underwear and shorts intensified. gripping onto your outer thighs with her fingers, she began to suck and nibble your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks all over.

you whined loudly, your hips instinctively bucking against her actions. shauna smiled wickedly against your skin, her gaze meeting yours once more. "is this what you want?" she asked, her voice thick with hunger. "my mouth on you, marking you like this?"

you nodded, unable to form a coherent response. your entire body was on fire, craving more of her touch. she grinned, her slender fingers moving towards your clothed center, pressing against it.

"so fucking wet for me," she murmured, her voice rough. "just like i imagined."

without warning, she dove in, giving a wet kiss to your dampened spot. then, she grabbed the fabric with her teeth and pulled back, letting it snap against your skin, eliciting a frustrated moan from you.

“such a shame i won’t be touching you today,” she revealed, a cocky grin on her face.

you choked out a whimper, your heart pounding in your chest. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused, watching her release her hold and stand up from the ground in one swift motion.

“take off my shorts,” she commanded, her tone stern.

not wanting her to get more enraged than she already was, you immediately complied with her request. sliding your fingers around her waistline, you pulled them down, finding it a bit more challenging than expected, given the big size of her glutes.

“now, take off my underwear with your teeth,” she ordered with the same tone.

your eyes widened slightly at her instruction, but you did as she asked. biting the edge of her panties, you carefully pulled them down her legs, revealing her shaved pussy. you couldn't help but notice the wetness glistening on her lips.

shauna stepped out of her underwear, her eyes never leaving yours. "lick me clean," she ordered, her voice low and demanding. you hesitated for a moment, but she grabbed your hair and yanked your head forward, pushing her pussy against your mouth.

"don't make me repeat myself," she growled, her fingers tightening in your hair.

as one of her legs positioned itself on the bench right beside you, you took her into your mouth, her taste flooding your senses. she groaned, her hands tangling in your hair, guiding you. "just like that," she growled, her hips bucking slightly.

you eagerly obliged, licking and sucking at her clit, while gently spreading her folds apart with your fingers. she tasted salty and sweet, her taste making you even more aroused than before. her hips jerked and bucked, her breath hitched as she ground herself against your mouth.

"fuck, yes," she moaned, wrapping her fingers in your hair, holding you close to her. "that’s it, sweetie,” she smirked down at you, her eyes almost playful now, despite the harshness in her voice. her taste was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into her folds. her wetness slicked your tongue as you sucked her clit, thrusting your tongue deep into her.

shauna groaned, her fingers tightening in your hair as she ground against your face. "that's it," she panted, her breaths coming faster. "make me come."

you redoubled your efforts, eager to please her and make her feel good. her clit was hard and swollen, pulsing against your tongue as you sucked and licked it. her wetness coated your mouth, mingling with your saliva, creating a strange but delicious taste.

shauna's breaths grew ragged, her hips bucking against your face, guiding you to her core. "you like that?" she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "you like eating my pussy?"

you moaned into her, barely able to form coherent words. "i love eating your pussy," you gasped, your own arousal throbbing between your legs. shauna let out a triumphant growl, her hips thrusting even harder against your mouth. "good girl," she praised, her voice rough. "now make me come."

you sucked her clit harder, your tongue dancing over her sensitive bundle of nerves. you were sucking so hard you could barely breathe, feeling suffocated between her swollen folds. shauna's breaths grew even more ragged, her hips bucking wildly. "oh, shit," she swore, her grip on your hair tightening. "i'm close…"

the sight of her losing control turned you on even more, your arousal pulsing in anticipation. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, but you needed to make her come first. you increased your pace, focusing on her clit, flicking it with your tongue rapidly. shauna's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she neared her climax. you could feel her muscles tense, her wetness coating your face as you continued your assault on her clit. she was so close, her cries growing louder and more desperate. “f-fuck, i’m coming, i’m coming–” she moaned out.

and then, she did. shauna's orgasm hit her hard, her entire body shaking as she came. you felt her wetness flood your mouth, her walls clenching around your tongue. “god,” you gasped, your mouth full of her juices. her orgasm was intense, leaving you breathless and aroused.

you swallowed her juices, still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. you hadn't even realized you'd cum, but the feeling was unmistakable. a wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak-kneed and breathless. you pulled back, looking up at her with wide eyes, your cheeks glistening with her wetness. you stammered, embarrassed and surprised. "i… i c–’

“did you just cum without me even touching you?” she asked, her tone stiff, though a glint of pride and cockiness shone in her eyes.

"yeah," you muttered, your cheeks flushing. you couldn't believe you'd cum just from eating her out. you'd always been sensitive, but this was something else.

shauna studied your face for a moment, her expression unreadable. "well, i guess that's a first," she said finally, her voice rough. "it’s kinda pathetic if you think about it," she said with a smirk, subtly attempting to make you feel ashamed.

"pathetic?" you echoed, feeling a bit defensive. "i thought you'd be happy i made you feel good."

she snorted, adjusting her jersey. "you made me feel good, but you came without me even touching you," she repeated, a smirk on her face. "that's gotta be a record."

you crossed your arms, feeling a bit self-conscious. "i don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it," you huffed, glaring at her. she simply laughed, shaking her head.

"whatever," she replied. "i’m nearly done with you yet." she motioned for you to come closer.

you hesitated for a moment, but she pinched your injured nose gently, pulling you up by it. “f-fuck!” you cried out in pain, pushing her away as you covered your nose with your hands, which started to bleed once again.

she tugged on your hair aggressively, forcing you to look at her. “don’t fucking do that again,” she threatened. “take your clothes off.”

you quickly stripped off your clothes, standing naked in front of her once more. her eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of you.

"i'm gonna fuck you now," she growled, pulling you closer. pinching your cheeks with one hand, she brought you close to her face, licking the blood trickling from your nose in a long, deliberate lick. "and you're gonna take it like the little bitch you are."

you gulped, your eyes widening as she pushed you onto the end of the bench, her body following you down. she straddled your waist, her eyes never leaving your face as she used her hands to guide you back until you were lying flat on the bench.

you couldn't help but shiver at her dominance, her words making your body ache for her. even after everything, you still wanted her, and that realization left you feeling helpless.

"what are you waiting for?" she growled, her eyes flashing with irritation and longing. you bit your lip, eyeing her in confusion. "put your hands above your head," she ordered, her tone firm. obeying her command, your heart pounded in your chest.

shauna leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke, her breath hot against your skin. "if you try to escape or resist, i'll break something," she warned, her voice low and laden with menace. you swallowed hard, your body trembling in anticipation.

you winced in pain as she gripped your cheeks again, your nose still throbbing from her earlier pinch. “and if you make a sound, i’ll fucking break your nose this time,” she threatened, her warm breath wafting against your face.

you whimpered at her threat, your body trembling involuntarily. shauna grinned, her eyes gleaming with malice. "understand?" she asked, her voice rough.

you nodded quickly, your heart still racing. you knew she meant what she said, and you weren't about to test her. she released your face, reaching down to spread your legs wide. her eyes roamed over your wet folds, her breath catching at the sight.

without warning, she pressed her wet pussy against yours, her knees digging into your thighs. she was wet and hot, her scent filling your nostrils as she thrust against you. the sensation was intense, her wetness coating your skin as she moved against you. you clenched your jaw, trying to remain still despite the pleasure coursing through you. shauna's eyes met yours, her expression full of satisfaction.

you bit your lip, attempting to hold back any sounds of pleasure as she continued to grind against you. but it wasn't long before your body betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your lips. shauna's eyes narrowed, her grip on your thigh tightening. "i warned you," she growled, her voice dangerous. she slapped you hard across the cheek, the sting causing tears to well up in your eyes. "that wasn't a request," she growled, slapping you again as you bit your lip to hold back a cry. "remember that."

whimpering, your body tensed in pain, your nails digging into the bench for support. shauna's thrusts were brutal, her movements relentless. she slammed against you without mercy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you. biting your lip harder, you tried to hold back any noise that might earn you another slap.

"i'm gonna cum all over you," she growled. increasing her pace, your bodies slid against each other in a messy, wet rhythm. clenching your fingers tighter around the bench, you tried to hold back your urge.

"say it," she demanded, her voice fierce.

"cum on me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "cum all over me," you repeated, your voice louder, though hoarse.

she smirked, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. "that's my girl," she purred, her voice full of triumph. she thrust harder, her hips slamming against yours as she reached her peak. you could feel her pussy clenching around you, her juices coating your skin.

as she came, she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. "this is what happens when you piss me off," she hissed, her voice threatening. you shivered, her words sending a chill down your spine.

she pulled back, your bodies sticky and slick with each other's fluids. she looked down at you, her expression cold and distant. “now, clean me up,” she commanded. you were exhausted, but you knew better than to defy her. you licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “yes,” you mumbled.

she smirked, her gaze dark. she positioned herself above you, her pussy hovering over your face. you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then began to clean her as thoroughly as possible. her hands gripped your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as you worked. you could feel her breathing becoming heavier, her body trembling above yours. she groaned, her hips bucking slightly as you licked her clit.

though tired, you continued to lick and suck, your tongue exploring every inch of her. she could tell you were exhausted, but that didn't deter you. instead, you worked harder, your tongue dancing around her folds with precision.

as you licked, shauna's breathing grew heavier, her hips bucking slightly. you moaned into her, your lips brushing against her skin, and she growled, her hands digging into your hair. "keep going," she ordered, her voice rough.

releasing her hold on your hair, she instead grasped your wrists, pinning them above your head once more with her hands, using them as leverage as she moved her hips in a front-to-back motion against your tongue. you groaned softly into her, feeling her weight on your wrists as she pressed against your face. her movements were rough, her hips slamming against your mouth, forcing your tongue deeper into her. you whimpered, your body trembling.

she thrust against you, her movements becoming more erratic as she approached her climax. you could feel it, her muscles tightening around your tongue as she neared the edge. "oh, fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. your tongue flicked against her clit as she came, your body shuddering beneath her. she cried out, her body trembling as her orgasm swept over her. you lapped at her, cleaning every last drop of her juices from her center and inner thighs.

when she finished, she pulled back, your tongue sliding from her body. she released your wrists, her eyes studying your face, drenched in her juices and dried blood from your nose. "get dressed," she commanded, her voice cold and distant.

you nodded, your body trembling as you sat up. your arms felt sore where she had held them above your head, but you ignored the pain, dressing as quickly as possible. she watched you with a critical eye, her expression unreadable.

she smiled, her eyes lighting up with a dangerous glint. "i know you're not leaving until next week," she stated, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. "i'll pick you up tomorrow after dinner."

you gulped, your mind racing. you knew better than to argue. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible. she grabbed your neck, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you close, your eyes widening as she choked you slightly.

"but first…" she whispered, her eyes gleaming dangerously. she licked the side of your face, her tongue tracing the line of her earlier slap. the mixture of her juices and your blood was still present, and she savored the taste as she licked it up.

"mmm," she hummed, her eyes flickering with satisfaction. "you taste just as good as you look." she leaned down, pressing a quick, hard kiss to your lips. her lips were rough, her tongue invading your mouth for a moment before she pulled away.

"see you tomorrow," she said, her voice cold. with a sudden movement, she slapped your ass before turning on her heel, walking away without a second glance.

you stared in shock as she left. "this can't be real," you told yourself, running your hand over your neck, feeling the pain shooting through the bruises beginning to form there. your breathing was shallow, and your mind still spun from the sudden turn of events. you stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on your face, trying to tidy yourself up as much as possible before gathering your belongings.

stepping out of the locker room, you spotted tai waiting for you, as she had offered to give you a ride home. "the fuck took you so long?" tai huffed, sounding annoyed.

"sorry, got held up by some of my groupies in the lockers," you quipped, causing her to roll her eyes. it wasn’t until she noticed your disheveled appearance, which you had done a terrible job of hiding, that her expression changed to one of concern.

"hey," she said, her voice softening as she rubbed your back. "you okay?" she asked.

you nodded. "yeah, i'm fine," you murmured, “rough game,” you said with a tired chuckle.

tai eyed you suspiciously, but didn't press further. "let's go," she said, leading you out of the rink and towards the parking lot.

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #꒰ smut ꒱ 🔞 #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x y/n #shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman smut #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets smut #minors dni

[neon-in-the-night-time]

poor carlos having to run rehearsal without miss jenn when he's the only one who knows she's getting fired. bro's like 15

#like he and natalie bagley are both sophomores. who put children in charge. #every time i see natalie bagley on screen i have a crisis because i know she's canonically a sophomore #but like #the actress graduated high school class of 2017. #it might have been 2018. but i’m pretty sure 2017. #(the actress went to my high school) #but like when the first season came out #i was a junior right? #and alexis nelis who is a college sophomore or junior #is playing a high school sophomore #like i know it's the norm to age up characters #but it's really weird to see someone you know by only one degree of separation doing it #i never knew her but like my teachers did #if you go back far enough on her instagram i see comments from older siblings of my classmates #it's weird #hsmtmts rewatch #hsmtmts

[arthur-r]

hi how is everybody doing??

#im ok im a little bit terrified about how i’m graduating in a couple seconds #by which i mean months but it feels that way #and like hooray i get to move away and be transgender and study history and help people and everything i’ve always wanted to do #but also. the kids in my graduating class. i dont know all of them. a lot of them hate me. but at least they’ve been familiar faces #and the idea of going away to a college where nobody knows my name is kind of terrifying #like i know the entire point is to reinvent myself. but isn’t that scary?? i’m going to become somebody new and that terrifies me #anyway i’m so normal regular. in other news i’m about to have a cranberry orange muffin. so wish me luck with that #anyway there’s this girl i kind of like and i kind of wanted to say something but now it’s kind of pointless #she’s going to the u of m. i’m going to wisconsin. that’s just the end of the road isn’t it?? #nothing is strong enough to say anything. but the problem is it’s like this in high school and i go to college and reinvent myself #then what?? i leave college and reinvent myself again!!!! get a masters reinvent myself again!! move towns reinvent myself again!! #struck by the realization that nothing in life is ever permanent except for death. how terrifying is that #anyway i am so normal and regular and cool and good feeling. everything will really truly be okay it’s just #idk. it’s weird being at this stage in my life. didn’t mean to ramble on like that though #so anyway i hope you all are well and would love to know how you are doing. other than this stuff i’m just hanging out #sending all the love to my senior friends who are in this predicament. and my junior friends who aren’t here yet. and whoever else shdhdf #but especially my friends who are my age or like a year older who are in this same kind of soon-to-be-overwritten high school experience #wish you the best of luck finishing and starting over. and try not to take it as seriously as i’m doing its probably not that bad rationally #and so anyway i hope you are doing well and let me know how you’ve been!! hope everybody is okay #ask to tag idk if this was vent territory but it was like. kinda nearly. i can tag with whatever #me. my post. mine. #college talk #(sorry!!) #delete later

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

#billy hargrove #harrington!reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #soft!billy hargrove #ooc #one shot #stranger things one shot #request #fanfiction #billy stranger things #billy hargrove angst #angst #fluff

[drefear]

Daddy Issues

Best Friend’s Dad!Miguel x Reader

TW: smut, p in v, roughness, dirty talking, fingering, some fluff, some angst, teasing. 

might make a part 2, we’ll see. 

Nothing beat the way it felt to dance, nothing made you feel as alive. This was evident in the way you leaped across the stage and spun into a pirouette. You smiled and panted a bit and continued your routine, jumping into an arabesque as if you were in flight and completely weightless.

The applause filled the auditorium and you felt the out-of-beat rise and fall of your chest as you begged for air silently. You saw your father stand up with tears in his eyes and your best friend as well, who came to watch you for support. You’d finally gotten the lead in the show your dance school was doing, The Nutcracker , and being Clara was like walking on air. You ballet-ran off the stage and waited for the curtains to close, signaling the end of the show. You’d done it, and with perfect timing as you were about to graduate college and no longer have your dance team anymore, since you would officially reach the age limit in the fall of next year and auditions were in the winter. Your heart pounded as you saw Gabriella from the wings, happily waiting for you to come out and take your final bow, and then it was time. You milked the hell out of your curtain call, waving and smiling like a total idiot, but it was worth it. Everything had paid off to finally be at this moment.

But… they were gone? You searched for your father and Gabriella’s faces, but they weren’t in the seats they’d just been in. Did they leave? Maybe went to get the car before everyone rushed to the exits? You felt a little tinge of hurt in your heart, but you would try to understand. They came to watch and that’s all that mattered.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder as you masked your confusion on the stage, you turned to see the two missing familiars holding two large bouquets of flowers. You eyes welled with tears and you hugged them tight, crying happily as they wrapped their arms around you. The moment was perfect.

Well. Almost. There was only one person missing, one person who you already knew wouldn’t make it.

Gabriella’s dad, Miguel. He’d been one of your biggest fans since you and Gabriella became friends in middle school, about the time you began to blossom into the woman you were today. The two of you were inseparable from the moment you’d met, and soon, both of your families were just as close.

You’d been through everything together. Puberty, getting your periods, your parents divorce and your mom leaving, Gabriella’s mother passing away, everything. You two had even decided once you graduated high school, to go to college together and share an apartment.

Which is exactly what you did, and now you both were graduating. Gabriella was finishing her undergraduate for medical school, and you’d gone on to major in the arts, so you could become a professional choreographer. No one could get in between the two of you.

Except her father, you thought for a brief second before shaking the thought from your head.

No! That’s bad, very bad! You chastised yourself for your subconscious wishes.

Gabi’s dad was so nerdy as you grew up, doting on her mom every waking moment. You’d even gone as far as to call him a simp once, to which Gabi laughed about it for days. Your mom and dad barely got along at all through your childhood, so it was no wonder how much her parents loved each other was foreign to you, but things changed when you two became juniors in high school.

You’d had your first kiss, and Gabi begged for details in her room. The two of you sat up and talked about this boy you’d kissed all night, but she was definitely way more excited than you were. It just wasn’t what you’d expected, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly and basically just pushing your head into his passenger window as you somewhat wanted to get away from him.

Plus, he wasn’t even that cute.

But Gabi hadn’t experienced anything around boys yet, and so you indulged her and made it seem way more romantic and nice than it was. Batting your eyes, you made smoochy sounds as she smacked you with a pillow and you both giggled.

“Girls, lights out.” You heard Gabi’s mom say and you furrowed your brows a bit at Gabi, who just rolled her eyes in response. You waited to hear the footsteps fade before you asked her what that was about.

“My mom and dad have been seeing this counselor. Something about the spark needing to be reignited, so now they go into the guest bedroom every Saturday to have sex.” She made a disgusted face and your eyes widened.

“They plan it?”

“I guess? It’s been every weekend now for like three weeks, and I’m going insane! Let’s sneak out and see a movie or something before my brain dies.” She moved towards her window and waved me over, but you glanced at her bedroom door.

“Wait, I gotta get my shoes from downstairs, I’ll meet you in the backyard.” You spoke and she gave you a thumbs up, before tucking out of her window.

You tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room when you heard it.

“Miguel- right there!” It was hushed, but you heard it clearly. Not being able to resist, you peeked into the kitchen where you’d heard the sounds and your mind was never the same. “What if the girls come down-”

“Shh, we’ll hear them, now focus on me, cariño.” He had his head tucked into her neck as his pants were pulled below his ass, showing his toned bottom as he fucked up into her. Legs wrapped around his waist, he was so much larger than her. How did you just notice this?

Your eyes fluttered downwards to where the two of their bodies met and you gasped. He was huge. Could dick even be that big? He was beyond anything you’d seen in the health textbooks or on twitter.

You stumbled backwards and immediately knocked over the lamp on the table, the house then suddenly becoming quiet. It was as if there was no air inside of your lungs anymore, freezing in place until you saw the swinging kitchen door begin to move, running faster than you ever have for your shoes and bolting back up the stairs. You jumped as you tried to get your shoes on as fast as possible and sat on the window ledge as you heard someone coming into Gabi’s room as you were about to climb down the gutter into her backyard. Looking up, your eyes met his.

His face was sweating lightly and his eyes were blown with lust, watching you like a predator. You glanced down where you’d seen what you should never have, and his pants were pulled up now, but the bulge was still prominent and hard. You gulped and practically fell out the window backwards as you collapsed onto Gabi, who was waiting for you.

“Go!” You whispered harshly and dragged her hand, “Your dad is right behind me and he saw me!”

“Shit, how?” Gabi asked and your mouth went dry, the scene replaying in your mind like a broken record that kept skipping to the same place.

“You don’t want to know.” You hushed and ran to her fence as the lights from the back door flashed on and you two were met with the large shadow of Mr. O’Hara.

“What are you two doing?” His voice was like a death sentence to the both of you, who were sitting in the grass now. You scrambled to get up and your hands were shaking. Nothing was processing in your head. Why were you so sweaty?

“We were just gonna jump on the trampoline, dad.” Gabi lied and you just nodded, eyes avoiding his as he walked closer and folded his arms. You looked at his hands, and you thought back to where they’d just been, rubbing Mrs. O’Hara’s clit. Your eyes flashed back down to the grass.

Your name broke you from your haze, Mr. O’Hara’s voice making your knees tremble a bit. “You don’t look well, maybe I should call your dad and have him come get you.” he spoke and moved to touch your forehead, checking for a temperature. You flinched and moved backwards.

“You know what, you’re right. I’ll walk home I think. See you tomorrow, Gabi.” You rambled and a hand caught your wrist.

“You can’t walk home now, it’s dark out. I’ll just call your dad-”

“He’s working late, can’t come out. I’ll just walk home!” You tried again, begging for whatever higher power could hear you to just let you die.

“No, I’ll drive you then.” He said and your fate was sealed.

You just quietly nodded as Gabi looked at you with a bad feeling showing in her emotions. You two were in so much trouble.

Sitting in the car, your knee bounced with anxiety.

‘Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t-’

“So, where were you two actually planning on going?” SHIT.

“Uh. Just to see a movie.” You mumbled, staring out the window.

“And why sneak out? You both know that we’d happily drive you, even give you some money for snacks.” His tone made your skin crawl, now recognizing it as the moaning and grunting you’d heard prior.

You cleared your voice and tried to not look guilty. “We, uh, didn’t want to… bother you guys.” You hoped he wouldn’t even hear you, would just let it all go.

“It’s never a bother, especially when it’s about your and Gabi’s safety.” He spoke and pulled up to a red light. The silence was drowning you, but it was better than answering his questions.

“Gabi said you two were busy tonight, so we thought it’d be better if we just snuck out.” You shifted your legs in the passenger seat, begging the world to strike you with lightning.

“Ah. So Gabi figured it out.” He said and the light turned green again. “Gabi’s mother and I have been married a long time, and sometimes we need to do things to keep-”

“The flame alive, yeah I know. Can we please not talk about this, Mr. O’Hara?” You begged, and your eyes met once more, making you blush wildly. You couldn’t help but remember the way he looked as he thrusted into his wife. You turned away fast so he hopefully wouldn’t see your red cheeks. “Gabi and I will never sneak out again, I promise, just please stop talking about this!” You covered your ears a bit. That’s when he put it together.

“Oh.” he just said and continued to drive, hands white knuckling the steering wheel. “I’m… sorry you saw that.” His tone was hesitant, like he wasn’t even sure what the words he was saying meant.

“Cool, yep, see ya tomorrow Mr. O’Hara!” You chirped and practically jumped out of his moving car as he pulled to a stop outside of your house, no cars in the driveway and no lights on. You ran to the front door and burst inside, locking it behind you and panting.

That night, you’d had your very first orgasm thinking about him fucking you like that and nothing was ever the same.

A year later, and Mrs. O’Hara was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer and had only a few months to live. She pulled through to around a year and you felt your heart break the moment she was gone. Your mother had abandoned your father and you a little into your freshman year of high school, so you’d leaned on Mrs. O'Hara, like she was your own mother, learned her ways and how to be a good cook, and she taught you many things about life that you’d eventually need.

Gabriella and Mr. O’Hara were both devastated, and you could understand why. Nothing was the same for them. After the funeral, you, the O’Hara’s, and your father had a meal together, and that would be a weekly dinner from then on. Most of the time, she would cook for everyone when you all would hang out together, especially after your mom disappeared, but now with her gone, you picked up on cooking duties. It wasn’t as amazing as hers, but it fed you all and it was similar, so you kept up with it every week.

Flash forward to tonight, graduation looming over you like a rain cloud on a summer day. All of your grades were final, your dance team was about to disburse, and you’d be a woman of the world soon. Oh how the times had changed, and tonight was your official family dinner. Instead of cooking at home, your father insisted on you all going out to eat and your and Gabriella’s favorite restaurant.

And so here you were, sitting with that too tight bun still bobbypined and an easy-to-throw-on dress you’d yanked out of your closet in a rush to wear home after your performance. Gabriella held your hand as she chatted about what her and her new boyfriend were going to do after graduation, how he was going to med school with her and she wanted to get an apartment with him. You nodded, excited for her. You weren’t surprised, as she’d mentioned them moving in together multiple times recently, which would mean you'd be looking for a studio apartment soon. That was fine by you, since she’d still be in school and you were about to begin your own career.

The Latin food filled your senses as you enjoyed the food and light conversation. Gabriella spoke with her boyfriend to her other side and your father laughed with a glass of bourbon in his hand. You felt a hand on your shoulder from above and saw that looming figure you saw in your late night fantasies.

“Dad!” Gabi perked up and stood to hug her father, making you also stand to give him a polite peck on the cheek. As you leaned up to do just that, the corners of your lips brushed and your body froze, the feeling soft and… addicting. You snapped out of it almost as fast as you felt it and blinked a few times quickly to look like nothing happened, not meeting his eyes as you sat once more.

When you looked back to where he was hugging your father and shaking Gabis boyfriends hand, your eyes met and he was staring a bit. He sat next to you and you straightened up in your dress. This was new…

You’d done well at hiding your crush on him in the years, you thought. The first few months after you saw him and his wife have sex, you couldn’t look either of Gabi’s parents in the eye, but you’d gotten over it once you lost your virginity. ‘So that’s what it’s like’ you thought once you were done and the boy you were with was in the bathroom.

Dinner was served relatively quickly as you all ordered and drank. Your father had another bourbon neat, and Miguel had a Manhattan, as Gabi and her boyfriend each had a few vodka sodas, and you just slipped on your little tequila drink. It was a special for that week or something and had some sort of juice that made it look blueish purple.

Once you all had a drink in your each, you’d all begun laughing and chatting louder and as the night went one, you’d had a few more.  The live band started and you swayed a bit at the music. When you turned your head, Miguel was looking at you already with his arm behind your chair. You blushed a bit, warm from the liquor in your veins as he chuckled.

“Drunk? I thought you could handle more than that.”

“No no, I don’t… I don’t like to drink too much, so I’m already pushing it.” You smiled and glanced at your dad, who just nodded in agreement.

“My little girl did not get the drinking gene.” He added and sipped the bourbon he had. Gabi laughed and spoke up.

“Should’ve seen her in Miami on Spring Break! She was so drunk, she was dragging strangers to dance with her-“

“Gabi!” You chimed in and glanced at your father and  Miguel, the men laughing at your embarrassment.

“You’re a great dancer, even drunk!” She added and her boyfriend smiled at the memory as well. “How about we dance?” He nodded and pulled her hand to dance to the live music, enjoying the soft singing of the Hispanic music. You glanced at the dance floor and saw all couples, where Gabi now stood with her loving boyfriend.

“Go, find a partner!” You dad added and you shook your head. “Come on! A professional dancer who won’t dance alone?” He teased and you smiled again, just ignoring the comment.

“Here, I’ll dance with you.” Miguel stood and reached for your hand. You froze once more for that moment and nodded. “That way, you can still dance and not be alone.” He smiled wider and pulled you up, walking with you to the dance floor. You stood in front of him and heard the next song begin. Preciosa by Marc Anthony began and the beat made you move your hips gently, as he held your hands and followed your movements.

“They didn’t teach Latin dancing to you, did they?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. You looked up with a small ‘no’ and he chuckled, moving you in close to his chest and putting one leg in between yours. “Follow my lead, and loosen your hips. No ballet here, amor.” The roll of his tongue on the ‘r’ made your hips stutter in their movement. You’d never been so nervous to dance. He held one hand up and placed the other hand around your waist, swiveling you and twirling you both as he moved with precision and ease across the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone around you, but you couldn’t care. This was a moment you knew you’d waited your whole life for, and this was probably as close as you’d get to being with Miguel, so you’d ignore everyone and enjoy it while it lasted. A smile tugged at your features and you let him lead you. He even lifted you at one point like you were nothing but a piece of paper, a feather.

When that song ended, Vivir Mi Vida played and the tempo became faster, making you both continue with hast and creating a bit of sweat on both of you. He took control of the dance and spun you around the dance floor, making sure no one got in either of your ways as you laughed with glee.

The night moved in a blur as you and Miguel moved like a couple who’d been together for years, two who moved as one.  A slow song played and the strum of the guitar moved your bodies close, making you lean back and forth intimately against each other. The song ended and you both realized there was very few people left in what once was a bustling restaurant, and when you turned back to your table, your father was handing the bill to the waiter. Miguel stopped and walked back.

“I told you I was taking care of it tonight.” He caught your dad’s wrist and took the check, replacing your father’s credit card with his, and giving it back to the poor confused server. They hurried away as your dad shook his head.

“Couldn’t let me have that, O’Hara? You and Gabi came to support my little girl, and you even swept her onto the dance floor and made her smile. Least I can do is buy ya dinner.” He laughed and Miguel smiled.

“Not a chance. She’s been a wonderful friend to Gabriella for years, and she’s like my own mija. Let me treat you all and celebrate her.”

The words echoed in your mind and broke down your wonderful night.

His mija? As in… his own daughter?

You cursed yourself silently and painting a fake smile onto your lips as you all got up to leave once he took back his card. Gabriella was speaking to you and rambling about the apartment her and her boyfriend were looking at tomorrow, but all you could hear was the white noise of your own thoughts crippling your ability to think.

You tossed and turned all night after hearing Miguel say those words and you pushed down the feelings you’d pretended were not there for years, as they threatened to roll over your being and blow through your eyes without grace. How could you let yourself think anything like that again?

A few weeks later and you sat with Gabi in her backyard, tanning in the chairs by her pool as you both heard a low “I’m home,” from inside. The back door swung open and you saw Mr. O’Hara standing there. He was silent for a moment before getting a bit irritated. “What the hell are you two wearing?” He barked, angered.

Gabi shrunk back. “Dad, what are you talking about? They’re just bikinis!” She tried to call him down, but he seemed to get even worse.

“Just- those aren’t even bikinis, those- that’s less than underwear, you both might as well be wearing nothing!” He yelled in upset, like a lion roaring in pain.

“Maybe I should just go.” You mumbled and his eyes snapped to you. Uh oh…

“Not a chance. Yours is worse than hers! You look naked!” He stepped towards you and instinctively you took a step back, behind the lawn chair.

“M-Mr O’Hara, no one can see us. We’re in your backyard.” You spoke carefully, trying to make it better. “So no one even saw us, right? We'll change.” You nodded, obediently as you grabbed Gabi’s hand and slipped back into the house, hearing him grumble to himself as you passed him.

“I’ve never seen him talk to us like that.” Gabi spoke, putting on a t-shirt. She sighed and pulled her hair up. “Not even when I had that hickey sophomore year!”

“Maybe he just had a rough day and that was the last straw?” You hadn’t changed yet, staring at yourself in the bikini in the mirror. It really wasn’t terrible, maybe a bit more of a cheeky back than a full one, the straps of your bikini fairly thin. Just a regular red triangle bikini. Maybe you’d just gained weight? You huffed, “my bag is downstairs with my clothes, I’m gonna go grab it.”

“Do you wanna just borrow a shirt?”

“I mean, maybe. Anything baggy, so he doesn’t freak out again?” You asked and glanced at her hamper of clean clothes.

“Yeah, grab whatever.” She waved you off and you reached in, grabbing a large t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts. “I’m gonna go start making some dinner, come down when you’re done changing to help.” She spoke and walked out of the room. You sighed and pushed your hair behind your ears, sitting on her bed and holding the discarded bikini. Was he really upset? Well, maybe he was since he saw you as his own daughter. You begrudgingly got up and walked down the hall, passing by his office and spotting him.

“Come in here.” His tone was sharp, almost nerve wracking. You followed the voice and saw him with his arms folded over his chest, an irritated glare in his eyes. “I’m disappointed in both of you for thinking something like that is appropriate to wear.”

“Mr. O’Hara, we weren’t out in public, and no one else was around!” You answered, regretting your decision to stand up for yourself, as you notice the look in his eyes and realize you’re just digging your own grave.

“So you two weren’t taking a snapchat in those outfits? No videos or TikToks?” He asked, making you bite your tongue and avoid laughing at hearing him say that stuff.

“Maybe one tiktok…” You trail off and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, we didn’t post it, and I can delete it.” You justified and he nodded, concern still etched into his beautiful face. You take out your phone and as you begin to delete the video, his eyes narrow.

“...are those my clothes?” His head cocked to the side like a confused dog and you looked down, just as curious to see what he was talking about.

“No, they were in Gabi’s clean clothes.”

“Well, that’s my t-shirt from high school and those are my workout shorts.” His words made you quiet, forgetting about deleting the video. You blushed a bit and immediately starting searching for your bag, making a bee-line for the living room. “Oh my god, I’ll go change, I’m so sorry.” You rambled some flustered apologies before he could say anything else and ran off to the bathroom with the bag on your shoulder. Locking the door, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Could today get any worse? You leaned your head against the wall and kept your eyes shut, then took your clothing off once more to change into the clothes that actually belonged to you.

Tugging your skirt down to a suitable length incase Mr. O’Hara decided to berate your fashion choices once more, you glanced at something on the floor. It was another shirt of his, this time obvious by how large this one was, and the smell.

It was definitely something he’d just worked out in, having a particular musk to it, and the smell of his aftershave and body wash. It was him to a tee, and something in your body lit on fire just from the scent.

Without a second thought, you stuffed the shirt in your bag and exited the bathroom.

That night was filled with stifled moans and bitten knuckles as you quieted yourself while using your vibrator. His shirt stayed stationed in the hand you were biting down on, smelling his scent while you touched yourself until you were seeing stars and having trouble remembering your own name.

You hid that shirt the next day, stuffing it behind your pillows for safe keeping.

A day later, Miguel and Gabi had come over to watch some sport together. You’d never really been interested in sports unless Gabi was playing, but you enjoyed the company, so you often cooked for them all while they enjoyed the show. You mixed the guacamole as you heard someone walk into the kitchen behind you.

“Smells great.” Miguel spoke as he opened the fridge.

“Homemade chips, for the guac.” You nodded, still somewhat keeping it short with him after the prior day’s events.

“You can’t still be mad, right?” He asked and you turned to him fully, pausing the work on the mashed avocado and staring at him. He was holding two beers.

“I was never mad, but I still don’t get it.” You shrugged, “it just didn’t really seem like a big deal.”

“Really?” He seemed to get a little upset at that, placing the beers down and leaning on the kitchen island. “Because I think it was a huge deal. You’re barely an adult, you can’t be dressed like-”

“Like what? A woman? It was a bikini, it’s not like I was standing on the corner!”

“Watch how you talk to me.” He got cold and serious and your temper was flaring up.

“Why should I? You’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so you don’t get to tell me how to dress.” You shot back and he was quiet for a second. This prompted you to continue your winning streak. “And I don’t think you get to tell me what’s appropriate in front of people.”

“What are you talking about?” He hissed, taking a small step closer to you. “You don’t remember? When I caught you fucking on your kitchen counter? Cause I remember. Vividly.” You jabbed back and his eyes widened, the anger on your face apparent. Without another word, you stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your bedroom, slamming the door and sitting on your bed.

You shouldn’t have brought that up, you knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. Who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? He was just your friend’s dad, he had no right to yell at you about how you dressed or what you did. It wasn’t his place.

“Honey?” Your dad said from outside your door and you got up, opening it for him. “Miguel told me that he upset you, so I told him that he and Gabi should go home for the night so I could talk to my little girl.” Your dad always called you ‘his little girl,’ no matter how old you got. Tears started welling in your eyes, and you didn't know why, but you started crying into your father’s chest. He hugged you in a tight embrace as you continued to let out the tears you didn’t know you were holding in.

Some time went on and after about a week, you’d gone to Gabi's childhood home to hang out and watch a movie while Miguel was out. It was perfect. You didn’t have to see him and you could have some one-on-one time with Gabi.

Until she fell asleep halfway through the movie. You sighed, getting up and getting a glass of water. The week had been stressful. Every free second you had, you were touching yourself to Miguel’s shirt, tracing your clit, biting your lip to avoid making sounds. Even just the memory of his smell made your knees wobble a bit and you held onto the fridge handle a bit tighter while getting the water. The front door opening signaled you that he was now home. Time to leave as fast as possible, you thought to yourself, and placed the full cup of water in the sink.

Before you could walk out of the kitchen, Miguel was in the doorway staring down at you. “I just got off the phone with your father.” His voice was monotone, which wasn’t abnormal.

“You can tell him I’ll be home soon.”

“Well, he had a few questions for me. About you.” He spoke and something was off about how he was speaking. Was he… taunting you?

You finally met his eyes and you were right, something was off.

“He said the cleaning lady found a man’s shirt in your bedroom.” Your heart dropped. No no no no!

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up as he watched your reaction. “He asked if you and Gabi had any new boys around, any new friends. He said you randomly started crying the other day and he was worried you might be going through some sort of relationship that he’s unaware of. So?” He asked and you just clenched your jaw.

“Mr. O’Hara, that is none of your-”

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“What?” You questioned, taking a step backwards.

“Say my name. You want me to treat you like an adult? Say my name.”

“Fine. Miguel, that is none of your business.” You barked at him, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I think it is my business, though. Since it’s my shirt.” He announced and your eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. How did he-

“It was just so strange, how one of my shirts went missing, one I had been wearing the day I yelled at you about that bikini, and then suddenly your dad finds a shirt that matches the one I’m missing. Weird coincidence, hmm?” he folded his arms and you felt your body running cold. How could you steal from a genius and think he wouldn’t realize? “So let me get the facts in order. You watched me have sex in my kitchen, you stole my dirty clothing, and you pranced around my house in a skimpy bikini.” He spoke in a lower voice, as if he was just thinking out loud, and you noticed the look in his eyes was becoming hungry.

“Y-Yes ok I did that, I’m sorry. Don’t tell anyone it was yours!” You begged and he chuckled at you, looking to the side.

“I’m not telling anyone anything, but I have a question.” He paused and brought his thumb to his lip, as if thinking about something he was trying to word correctly. “What were you doing with my shirt?”

Your blood ran cold, the sound of your heart beating in your ears too loud to even think. He… wanted you to say it. Heat began to rise up your neck and cover your cheeks and ears with a tint of red.

“C’mon, say it.” His lips twitched to a smirk and you squeezed your legs together at the view you had of him. Dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, belt around those slim hips, slacks tight in all the right places from how muscular his thighs were.

Embarrassment filled your head as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and as you lifted them up his body, red rubies claimed your sight like they owned you.

“I-I… thought about you.”

“Be specific, amorcita, what about me?” He moved forward and tilted your chin up to keep eye contact with him as you spoke.

You gulped and closed your eyes, too humiliated to say what you were about to while seeing his face. “I thought of you and I having sex… touching me and stuff.”

“Eyes on me, mi corazon.” You opened your eyes and he was bent down to where he could kiss you. His breath smelled like mint. “Tell me more.”

“I imagined you on top of me, b-behind me… kissing me.” You trailed off as his lips ghosted over yours, then smiling and crashing together like a crescendo of a symphony. His hands gripped the sides of your body, picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

“You thought of me touching you here?” His hand trailed down your torso towards the front of your jean shorts, tracing where your pussy sat, hot and waiting. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and he smirked again. He liked the effect he had on you, it was obvious.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Yes, Miguel, please.” You spoke, your words shaky as he laughed at your shyness. “Where was that attitude from before? All that sass?” He whispered against your ear as he unzipped your jean shorts, pulling down the material to expose you more to him. His fingers rubbed against the lacy fabric of your panties, and you lost your mind for a minute, panting a bit just from the slight contact. “You’re that sensitive? Just from a little touching?” He purred and yanked your panties off as well, your naked core against the chill of the air sending a shiver up your spine. “Where’d all that shit you were talking from the other day go?”

“Miguel,” You beg and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotta open you up first, Princessa.” His words were low and rumbled in your body as he gave you pet names.

A finger slipped into you without issue, and your back arched into his chest as he massaged your thigh with the other hand. A moan erupted in your throat and he quickly took the hand on your thigh to cover your mouth. “Shhh, we can’t have Gabi finding us like this, right?” You nodded and practically saw your eyes cross as he pushed in another finger, beginning to feel full with just the two digits. He worked them back and forth in you as he placed soft kisses against your throat. Your whole body jolted, like an electric current was rolling throughout your body.

His fingers began to curl against that spongy spot that had you rolling your eyes back, letting out more muffled sounds against his other hand, his eyes hooded and watching you through his thick lashes. Like a predator, he moved them faster and you felt yourself about to teeter over the edge. His thumb brushed against your clit and you were sent into a full earth-shattering orgasm, gripping his shoulder for stability as he let you ride his fingers through it.

“Preciosa…” he mumbled and unzippered the dress pants, pulling himself out and watching your face change from blissed out to fearful. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow…” he whispered and lined himself up. Pulling you to the edge of the counter, he pushed the tip into you and you closed your eyes, feeling the stretch of his size already. He moved slowly as you adjusted and once he was fully in, you hissed a bit. You both were completely breathless, like two wild beasts waiting to see who would make the first deadly move. “Look at me while I fuck you good, I want to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” Keeping eye contact, he moved his thumb back on your clit, making you shake a bit and let out pretty little sounds again. He started to move at this, feeling so good and overwhelmingly full. It was as if you’d been speared onto something, he was impaling himself into you and you loved every second. You began to thrust back against him and he practically lost it then and there, watching you frantically chase your own high making him almost feral. He yanked you off of the counter top, flipping you over and pushing you down flat against it. Shoving himself back inside of you, he began a relentless pace, bruising your cervix over and over. As you got louder, he pulled your hair back to make you arch against his chest.

“Yeah? You like how I ruin you?” He taunted, slamming into you from behind and causing the sound of skin slapping skin to echo across the room. “This pussy is mine.” He growled and gave your clit a gentle slap, making you practically scream out.

“M-Miguel…!” You were panting from how he’d made you so breathless, so overwhelmed by him.

“Be quiet, or do you want Gabi to know you’re a slut for me? That you love when I fuck you better than anyone ever could.” He went on and you nodded along. He was right. He’d ruined you for any other man. You’d never be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them to him.

“That’s right, amorcita, moan for me.” He egged you on as he bottomed out once more, making your legs shake. He lifted one of your knees to lean on the counter beside you and pounded into you from a new, deeper angle, giving you chills. That was it, that new spot he’d found made you come around him instantly, muscles tightening from the orgasm. You felt someone warm fill you, and realized he had finished as well. Grabbing your face harshly, he pulled your face sideways to give you a rough kiss as he kept himself inside of you for a few more moments.

You gasped for air as you felt him slip out of you, his seed dripping down your leg a bit and making you hyper aware of what just happened. You both stood, half dressed and heaving in silence. Your eyes found his, and everything hit you all at once. Grabbing your underwear and jean shorts off of the ground, you rushed out of the kitchen and began getting dressed as you walked.

“Wait-” He called out and yelled your name, but you were fast and he was still tucking himself back into his pants. As you reached the door, there was a knock and you buttoned your shorts as you swung open the door.

A nicely dressed woman, beautiful and tall, stood there holding a jacket. The two of you stared at each other for a second before she looked past you and smiled.

“Ah, Miguel! I realized you left your jacket in my car.” She spoke, then looked down at you. “Is this your daughter?”

Tears built up in your eyes and you looked back at Miguel, shocked.

“You were on a date?” Your words could’ve been poisonous with how you spoke to him, because they stung him terribly. His mouth was parted, still in shock.

You’d had enough. Your body pushed past the woman’s and you ran down the street to your home, only a few blocks away. It wasn’t your apartment, but your dad should be home and you could just tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. He never pushed you.

Knocking on the door, he opened it and immediately was afraid.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to stay here tonight, ok?” You spoke and he nodded, hugging your crying frame. Tonight had been too much to think about, and as he walked you in, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. You trudged off to your bed and fell asleep.

Part 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #Miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader

[starlightkun]

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

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

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

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

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“So she was lying about doing something?”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”

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

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25

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

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

Text notification from Jung Sungchan?

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

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

[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]

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

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

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

‘Y/N and Sungchan:

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

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

Dr. Son.’

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

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

‘Dr. Son:

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

Y/L/N Y/N.’

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

[you: thanks, sungchan!]

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

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27

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

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

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Are you here to study or something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah, nah.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.

“What?”

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

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

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

“Huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

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

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

“But still… you’re so…”

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

“Uhm, that’s about it.”

“Oh come on, Sungchan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thursday?”

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

“Oh. Right.”

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

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

“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.

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

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

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

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

“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”

“Guess this is where we part ways then.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, well—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[you: bro???]

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

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

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

[you: so you’re not coming with me]

[chenle: no <3]

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he always suck?”

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

Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.

“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t shut up—”

“Oh! All net!”

“Isn’t that a basketball—”

“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”

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

“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”

“I figured.”

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

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”

“Here they come!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And…?”

You tilted your head, “And?”

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

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

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

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

“Walked, my apartment is close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”

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

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

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

“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.

“But they’re always a lot of fun.”

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

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

“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.

“Cool,” he echoed.

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

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

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

He joked, “Curfew?”

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

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

“Yeah, of course.”

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

“When?”

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

“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.

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

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

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

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

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

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

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

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

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

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

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

“Then what was it like?”

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

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

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

“Famous last words...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you did find a costume.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” One of them nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Y/N’s not like that.”

“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”

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

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

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

“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yes? Sorry?”

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

“What’s—”

But Chenle was already gone.

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

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

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

The person knocked again, harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, really?”

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

“Right.”

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

“How he got the invite.”

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

“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.

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

“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need? Water?”

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

“Oh. Will do.”

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

“Sungchan.”

“Yes?”

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

“Do you want me to go?”

“…No.”

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

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

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

“What do you need? Your bag?”

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

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

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?”

Too late.

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

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

“Better. A lot better, thanks.”

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

“Good morning.”

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

“…Sungchan?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Oh… don’t worry about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Medication,” you nodded.

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

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

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

“The music...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh. You’re dressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”

“Wow…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blood sugar too?”

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

Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” He grinned.

“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

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

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

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

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

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, of course.”

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

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

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

“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

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

“Are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

You snickered. “Smart man.”

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

“Well...”

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

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

“You’re not in a frat...”

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

“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.

“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sungchan?” You murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.

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

“I can’t get my dick out in public.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.

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

“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t recall.”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“DD!” Jeno cheered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Go for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did you walk me home?”

“To spend more time with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always the Bible.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.

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

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

“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will do.”

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

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

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

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

“So polite,” you quipped.

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

➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist

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

[bucknastysbabe]

hii, could you write smt abt aegon ii? 🥹 like kinda perv and loser stepbrother!aegon

YES I CAN! Hope you enjoy, getting back into my Aegon ways a bit! Xoxo

Just like that video! - Aegon II

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loser perv step-bro Aegon, TW: alcohol abuse, underage (17) sexual moment, cocaine use, fat shaming, modern au, Aeg’s a shit but means well, Lannister reader, and they were step-siblings, lots of banter, pnv!sex, chubby!aeg, begging, family interactions, pseudo Incest and they get off on it, the panties were allowed to be kept

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2 @fairysluna @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dr-aegon @targaryen-madness @starogeorgina @fallingintoyourlilaceyes

You had no choice but to come home for college this summer, being a lame freshman. Next year you planned on getting a place off-campus with some of your tennis teammates. You would go back to the mansion this summer, reluctantly.

The stupid mansion your family had inherited over generations. Casterly Rock. Now it was infested with your stepmother's weird fucking offspring, minus Daeron. You liked Daeron. Regardless, the youngest sibling could not protect you from the advances of Alicent's eldest son Aegon.

He was harmless, really. He currently was in a 'gap year' between his junior and senior years. The term gap year was a nice overcoat of gloss. You knew he had a bad coke and alcohol problem and needed to get straightened out. You hadn't seen the fucker since he was absent for most of the holidays in a sober-living program.

You had been home for about three hours now, isolating in your room, watching Hulu, bored as fuck. You had spoken to your father and Alicent while the servants brought up your belongings. Alicent asked politely, "How was nationals? You know we would have come but Daeron was graduating."

"We got our ass kicked, I wish I was there to see Daeron too. Where's his highness?"

Jason grumbled, "Eating the house."

Alicent's face soured slightly at the mention of Aegon. She hummed, "He's just working his program and staying sober until he can finish up school. Mainly mopes around, it'll be good for him to have you here." You nodded, holding your tongue. Jason snorted and said, "Make him get the hell off his ass or something, play tennis, who knows. Dinner's at eight."

It would be a boring summer. Maybe you could call up the Reyne or Tarbeck boys for some fun. You didn't particularly want to hang around your peaked and washed-up fratboy loser of a stepbrother. You remember from when you were younger and excited, your father was marrying into the royal family!

You were met with a toddling Daeron, shy and dreamy Helaena, intense Aemond, and Aegon. Who promptly pointed at your chest and scoffed, "Totally not like the porno huh? That's lame." You stood in abject Lannister horror, planning on his immediate downfall.

Instead, you grew up under the shadows of your strange siblings. Aegon was 4 years your elder and acted like he was still in middle school. He ignored or made fun of his 'stuck-up stepsister.' You had a strange interaction when he was home on a holiday You had just turned seventeen and Aegon was a junior. He was pretty bad off when he first came in with Criston, the guard holding him up.

Aegon was rail-thin, drunk as fuck, and a crying mess. You exchanged a look with Aemond, the other brother making a face of disgust. He whispered to you, "Dumbass is about to get kicked out of school, he's on academic probation right now. Or might I mention his raging alcoholism and cocaine addiction?"

The pair of you watched him get dragged off to your parent's room. You mustered a weak reply, "I knew he was a drunk but not that damn bad." Alicent had put him on Antabuse when he was in high school and then deemed him alright to go to college.

That night you'd gone out with the Westerlings to Lannisport, you had a fake ID yourself. Coming back you managed to score Aegon some blow and a bottle. You don't know why you did. Maybe it was that desire to gain his pointless approval. You did it anyhow, smuggling it into your purse. Criston didn't bat an eye, he thought you were the golden child, soon-to-be salutatorian, and a tennis scholarship to a good school in Oldtown.

You crept down the hall, Aegon had the big room on the corner of the second floor. Knocking on the door, a haggard Aegon moaned, "What? I feel like shit! Fuck off, Cole! Jason! Whoever you are!"

You yell-whispered back, "No dumbass it's me, I have something."

The door opened to a much sicker Aeg, eyes red-rimmed, skinny body trembling under a thick blanket. You gasped "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a virus?"

"No. Withdrawals. What did you bring me?" His violet eyes leered at your bodycon dress, making your cheeks heat up. He was handsome, stepbrother or fiend or whatever. You looked around and handed him the baggie and bottle. Aegon's eyes lit up and his smile brightened. He dragged you into his room, smelling of sweat and alcohol.

"Thank fuck, I needed this so bad, gods you are an angel."

You shrugged, standing there as he chugged some of the liquor, sighing in audible relief. He eyed you and asked, "You got a credit card?" Nodding in slight fear you rifled more in the purse and handed him the card. Aegon locked his door and got busy chopping up the coke. You pulled out your wine bottle and sat down, watching him drinking and shakily chopping up the white powder.

You ended up drunk as a skunk, Aegon absolutely cooked and giddy. He was making you laugh, chatting like you were a friend. Going so far as to inquire about your boring life. He seemed at ease, the dark cloud that would hang over Aegon had melted. The blonde looked at you with glassy eyes and hummed, "M'sorry for being a prick, you're not half bad."

"Sure, you're just happy I fueled your problem. Stuck up Lannister isn't that boring."

He laughed a bit, pretty teeth shining. Aegon asked, "Wanna watch this stupid movie? M'wired up right now." You gestured to the remnants of the coke and giggled, "I'd imagine, yeah come on then." You'd drunkenly climbed onto his huge bed, Aegon plopping on the other side, typing the movie into the big ass television.

It was funny, but somewhere along the way, Aegon had inched his way toward you. You had moved closer to him, snuggling into his side. The voice of reason was screeching in your head. Your stepbrother turned his face to yours, murmuring, "You're so fucking pretty you know that? I don't care how fucked up that is, I am fucked up."

You surged forward to meet his plump lips, Aegon's hand holding your cheek as he kissed you. He laughed darkly, nipping at your lip and sliding in a tongue. As the liplock grew more heated- spit-slick lips and tongues sliding against each other, Aegon rolled his frame atop yours, settling between your spread legs. Your dress rucked up to your panties from the movement, drawing a helpless whine from your throat.

This was disgusting, wrong, awful.

You arched into his touches on your hips, groaning into his mouth as you sensually kissed him, growing messier by the second. Aegon rutted a bit against your pussy, softly moaning and squeezing your waist. He murmured in your ear, "Mm, I know you're all wet for me, stepsis." Skinny fingers crawled to the edge of your underwear.

A deep pang of fear struck you, suddenly withdrawing and backing out of Aegon's amorous embrace. You shook your head, heart beating too fast, shame and guilt pounding your head in. The platinum-haired man stared in confusion, stuttering, "W-What the fuck? Are you okay? Hey!"

You shook your head, chest too tight to speak. grabbing the remnants of your debauchery you skittered out of his room, silent tears running down your face. You felt weird, you drew a line in the sand that would not wash away. With fucking Aegon. You could hit yourself.

The rest of the days he was icy. Icy all the way until he was going into rehab and further treatment. You didn't dwell on the experience until now, eyes darting towards his room. You would have to see him eventually. Passing by his door all you could hear was video game noises.

You locked the door to your room, a bit of anxiety peeping through. For the seven's sake, you were an adult now! You would be a polite sibling, Aegon was obviously sick at the time and trying to get well. He'd written you an apology from his sober living place and you wrote back a brief acceptance and gave well wishes. So it couldn't be that bad?

You'd take a nap and deal with your insane family later.

Sitting down at the dinner table, the normal-sized one, you chatted with your mother and Criston about tennis. Jason prepped some sort of penne dish with a salad. The sound of a chair being scooted back alerted everyone to another presence. It was Aegon. He murmured a quiet, "Hey. Nice to see you sis, sorry 'bout nationals."

"Thanks Aegon, how are you doing? Super proud of you."

You tried not to stare at your stepbrother but he had...changed. His hair had grown out to shoulder length and he'd put on weight. Nothing terrible, but it had to range somewhere in 50 pounds (23kg). The big sweatshirt and too-small joggers didn't quite help his case either.

"Yeah, it's not bad, ready to get back to school or do something before I go crazy."

Jason snarked, "A job is always a good idea huh?"

The awkward silence was permeated by an excited Daeron hugging you, still sweaty from soccer practice. You mock gagged and smiled at the little brother, batting him away. Criston hummed, "Dare's already started practicing at King's Landing U." You grinned, "Hell yeah! I'll come boo you when you play Oldtown!"

Things fell into a familiar rhythm besides Aegon scarfing his food up and excusing himself. Alicent called after him, "Where are you going, honey? Come visit with us." Aegon sighed, "I have a headache, sorry."

Your dad shook his dark blonde hair, rolling green eyes. He scoffed, "All Aegon does is eat and play video games. He'll be a fucking cow sooner or later."

You found yourself speaking up, "Would you rather have him chubby and sober or skinny and tweaked out Dad?"

Jason forked some pasta in his mouth, shaking his head. Criston broke the next stage of awkward silence. "Hey, he's almost at a year now. I'd never think I would see the day." Daeron nodded along. Dinner resumed to normal.

You had helped your father clean up, the conversation stunted and awkward. Lannister men had a tendency to never understand a woman, just a family thing. Some of your friends had fathers who didn't suck. Alicent tried and Criston was the occasionally cool uncle. Even if he wasn't related to any of you, just something that came along with being royal.

You spent some more time playing smash bros with Daeron, laughing and catching up after much needed time. It was late and you glanced at your phone. Marq Tarbeck had texted you back. You ignored it, yawning, "Alright Dare, I think it's time to hit the sack." His sleepy purple eyes seemed to agree as he got up, muttering about 'getting his nasty ass in the shower.'

Daeron split ways with you, going to his room nearby, and you up and across the mansion. Your room was also on the second floor- there was no way but to pass Aegon's room. Part of you wanted to check on him, it seemed like your father was hard on him. The other half said fuck it, he doesn't need to be babied. Still, you paused at his door, listening to the vague background noise of the television.

"F-fucking, god, baby," he groaned, muffled.

Your eyes widened in shock. A drawn out moan of your name made you freeze. Aegon rambled, "Knew you'd be so cute taking my dick stepsis. Gods!" His deep voice made you tremble slightly. Your imagination painted an image of Aeg spread out, fisting his cock, thickened thighs flexing. His plump lips would be extra swollen, those cute chubby cheeks blotchy.

Oh Gods. You couldn't. He was having a private moment and you stood outside his door like a weirdo. Then your phone began to ring. A loud buzzing as you frantically switched it off, fucking Tarbeck! With a pitiful whine you tried to book it away to your room.

"Get your ass back here!" came Aegon's whisper-yell.

You paused, hand over your mouth. Fucking fuck, you thought.

"C'mon, get over here, I heard you."

You dramatically groaned and shuffled to Aegon's doorway, eyes downcast, blushing heavily. A finger tilted your chin up, you reluctantly looking at his smug face. Aegon hummed, "Did you want a look-see or just to listen? You're just slumming it now huh? No Reynes or Tarbecks?"

You gritted out, "I was going to check on you, but then I heard my name. Of course I'd be curious to why you were moaning it."

Aegon rolled his eyes, scoffing, "So. Jig's up. I stole your pretty little lace panties to fuck too. Since I'm a man of honesty now."

Arousal laced up your stomach, pussy throbbing at the actual desperation this fucker was giving off. You panted a bit, shouldering him aside. Your panties were indeed on the bed, thoroughly used. Gaping at Aegon he shrugged, basking in the debauchery. Guess being sober didn't change him from being a little pervert.

You muttered, "I can't believe you."

"I tried to fuck you did I not? I remember how eager you were."

Glancing at his lidded eyes and frankly punchable face you kissed the man, gripping at his oversized sweatshirt. Aegon seemed surprised, inhaling sharply before grabbing your ass and returning the kiss with vigor. He murmured, "You aren't running away- hah- this time." He squeezed your ass hard, lips intense against yours.

Pressing yourself to his soft belly he stiffened a bit, apoligizing, "M'not very in shape, too many sweets, cock's the same." You shrugged, pulling his heavier frame atop your own, a thick thigh slotted between your sinewy legs. He groaned softly, hands pulling at your shirt impatiently.

He grunted while shucking off his sweatshirt, elbow about to take you out. You yelped and ducked, Aegon guffawing. "Sorry?" He chuckled. Shaking your head you pulled on his longer hair and resumed the earlier attentions. The blondie rudely unsnapped your bra, shoving you up the bed at the same time.

Pulling away with a snarl you exclaimed "Fucking hell are you going to manhandle me around the bed or kiss me?"

Aegon deadpanned, "Wanna see you naked. Going to do that for me this time? Nice tits by the way, I can say it's like the porno now."

You growled and shoved down your shorts and underwear, somehow turned on by his shithead attitude and stupid grin. Pointing at him you hissed, "Your turn. Those briefs looking a little tight anyways." Aegon snorted, laughing at you again while shimmying his ill-fitting briefs off. His violet eyes greedily roved over you, the shameless perv.

"Happy Lady Lannister?" He asked while gesturing to his hard cock.

"Much better, get over here."

Aegon pulled you by the legs, thick waist keeping your thighs spread, fat cock rudely shoved flush against your embarrasingly wet pussy. He pressed teasing little kisses across your throat, grasping hands all over your tits and ass. You mewled- rutting a bit against him, utterly pinned by his heavier weight.

"Gods- Aegon, you- gods!" you wheedled, shaky hands digging into his shoulders, slipping down to his plush hips and squeezing. He moaned and began to slide against your slit, eyes rolling erotically. Aegon rasped, "Been so fucking long- know you're tighter than I ever dreamed of. Little cocktease."

He took your mouth again, a possessive hand grabbing your chin, lips and tongue domineering and invasive. You were quickly becoming a puddle, whining as you tried to keep up, unable to focus as the bulbous tip of Aegon's thick cock jerked against your needy clit. Your stepbrother groaned raggedly, "Lion? Mewling kitten huh baby sis?" You whined again, jerking against him to claw at his shoulder.

"That's it, lemme see you try."

You huffed in frustration, nipping Aegon's puffy lips, trying to rut back against him. He laughed into your mouth, rough hands planting on your tits, thumbs swiping across your peaked nipples. You cried out into his warm mouth, shivering as Aegon alternated between dizzying little circles with the pad of his thumb or pinching and pulling roughly.

"Ah, mmm, fuck, fuck you, get- get a condom- oh my gods!"

Aegon groaned in annoyance. "We're literally rich, just go get a plan B."

"Get your lazy ass up and grab it!"

"Sound just like your father, gonna call me fat next?"

You stared at him, waiting. Aegon made a whole deal about heaving himself up and ungainly rolling to his side table, rifling through. "You're not even fat, sure are acting like it though, huffing about nothing," you replied. The prince returned with a condom, tearing the packet with his teeth. As he rolled it on the buffoon asked "Is it that bad? Be honest. The weight, I mean."

Alicent had made some weird fucking kids. You glanced around Aegon's body. He looked better than the last time you fooled around, actually healthy in appearence. The man took the brunt around his midsection, wide striped hips and a soft pooch. It appeared there was a slim layer of softness around his thighs, arms, and face. He seemed nervous now, that creeping insecurity.

"You look good. Healthier than being a skeleton. I don't see an issue. Maybe dress a bit snappier?"

He smirked, blushing and cursing, "Oh fuck off, I guess if you deem it alright. Let's fuck, yeah?"

You nodded with a grin, sealing your lips onto his own, wrapping your thighs around him tight. Both of you moaned as he slipped in, stretching your tight pussy out. Gods it felt good, the girth dragging against your sensitive spots. His hips stuttered a bit, hands clamping on your hips as he swore. You goaded Aeg on, digging your heels into his ass and whining his name.

Aegon pecked your mouth one more time, tucking his face into your neck, thighs heavily smacking your hips as he fucked. You yelped at the sudden movements, shivering in delight. Aegon grunted on every thrust, gasping against your neck before sinking his teeth in to grace your delicate skin.

You could do nothing but take his relentless bullying of your sensitive hole, thick tip drilling your sweet spot as he changed angles with a sharp inhale. Goosebumps littered your skin, sweat building between the pair of you. Your whines and his groans made a lurid cacophony, the slapping of flesh and the squelch of your own cunt.

Aegon panted, "Such a tight fuckin' pussy, made for me, s'good."

You arched feebly into his soft stomach, tits rubbing against his own. All you could manage was crying Aegon's name, tightening around him. You begged "Please, Aeg, touch me, touch me please, m'gonna cummm!" He growled in reflex, hips jerking particularly rough into the soft roof of your pussy.

"Yeah baby? Need your clit rubbed so you can come all over my dick? Beg some more, want you to mean it."

He slapped your thigh, smirking with lust blown pupils. Your eyebrows had knit together, the burning coil of ecstasy tightening into a ball. You just really really really needed Aegon to play with your clit. In the most embarrassing mewl you begged again. "Aeeegon, please! It fucking hurts, m'so swollen for you, please stepbrother, lemme cum, it-it'll feel so good!"

You sobbed in frustration, Aegon rumbling, "Mhm, I gotcha, needy little slut for a step sister. Fuck, you're gonna make me blow." His thumb and forefinger pinched and rubbed your flushed bundle of nerves, your stepbrother slapping a hand down on your wailing mouth. His hips stuttered, eyes rolled again as you clamped down on his twitching cock.

He babbled something, frantically swiping your nub until you released in a gush of slick, shivering from head to toe. Aegon made a gutted noise, his full weight baring down as he sloppily fucked himself out, groaning in near agony. He stiffened and whimpered your name, lips hanging agape as his cock emptied into the condom. Your pussy throbbed and twitched as you stared at the ceiling, hand in Aegon's platinum hair.

He groaned softly, "Ffffucking hell Lannister, you little demon."

Aegon groaned and slid out, laying on his back, pudgy belly heaving as he gathered some breath. You were just as limp, trying to formulate a sentence. Aegon tied off the condom and haphazardly threw it into a trash bin. You wrinkled your nose but managed to make the sluggish movements into his soft side. He was much more cuddly with the extra weight and post-orgasm haze.

Aegon wrapped a lazy arm around you, lips slightly curled up. He hummed, "You aren't going to run this time are you?"

"No. I don't think I will. We can tell Dad we're getting you lots of exercise now huh?"

"Just like the porno."

"Shut up."

#read the tw and tags #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #modern au

[nwndrlndn]

modern anakin hcs

pairing : modern!anakin skywalker x gn!reader | wc : 1.4k  | 18+MINORS DNI

a/n : this is just how i see a modern anakin. its kind of an add-on to boyfriend.

general hcs ( adaptational awareness )

anakin is some kind of scandinavian from shmi's side of the family and thats all he really cares about. his stance on his father and his full ancestry is "if he didn't want me then, i don't want him now" ( lies, we'll talk about the daddy issues later )

so shmi was probably born in a country thats similar to sweden or denmark and anakin probably spent his early years there. but by like 4 or 5 they moved from shmi’s home country to modern tatooine 

so like picture little blond haired, blue-eyed anakin, right? imagine he was homeschooled for like the majority of his life and he walks into school with a swedish accent and basic english skills

eventually, shmi saves up enough money and gets a really good opportunity to send anakin to a really good school in coruscant

shmi taught him how to cook, clean, some housekeeping skills

and he has even less friends, but he got along with his peer mentor, obi-wan, who was like on the verge of graduating and saw anakin as a surrogate brother

anakin definitely isnt emo until he’s in college, before college, i imagine him dressing like scott barringer, loose clothes, light colors, and he keeps his hair blond

this era of anakin defintely liked car shops and had a part time at a niche interests store ( think like, a bait shop ) to help his mom

he met padme in his junior year of high school, she was one of those alumni who were asked to come back to talk about the college experience to high schoolers

and anakin ( having zero filter ) asked for her number after the talk and she shot him down but still gave him her number.

then like, going into his college orientation, he was pissed off because his mom had remarried while he was away. but he was coming to terms with it and liking his step brother and his fiance.

i picture he shows up kind of fucked up looking. like his hair is growing out and the texture is off, his clothes are dark on the inside, light on the outside, and he’s listening to music on his headphones the whole time

and you see him sitting by himself, a little off from the engineering majors and fiddling with something in his hands and you walk over to him, in spite of your major and your nerves and sit next to him

instantly the headphones are off because his cool, tough guy front is still just a front, he was HOPING someone would talk to him 

and you guys hit it off, chatting away about everything and anything

even when you part ways and the orientation ends, he’s texting you randomly and oh my god, he thinks too fast for his thumbs

“hve you seen ovrdrive?” “wtff is that thing your ordered at ciplt? im picking up food fr obi and he hates when i bring spicey stuff” “hellp”

he moves in with doctoral candidate obi-wan for college and takes up a part time at a mechanic’s shop and another as an overnight security guard ( he just sleeps and works on assignments there )

he got his mom threepio, a golden retriever, but usually is playing with padmé’s border collie, artoo ( credit to this amazing fan art )

he asked out padme after he fixed her computer ( for funsies ) and didnt shut up about her the entire time they dated

anakin is clingy in relationships, literally would hold onto padmé’s bags while out in public so she wouldnt wander too far from him

and he just really liked the environment of padmé’s apartment, being around you, padmé, and sabé was just a really big comfort for him

his descent into becoming a metalhead mostly happened because one of his bosses suggested it to him

and slowly he started to enjoy it more and more

and his wardrobe got darker, developed an energy drink addiction, and he started letting you and padmé give him messy eyeliner

and it culminated when he asked you to help him box dye his hair and now theres a stain in his bathroom of a streak of black hair dye across the ceiling

the reason why anakin and padmé broke up was a healthy end because ani def got a little jealous and toxic and padmé had to sit him down and tell him it was for the best

and he resented her for a while, wouldn’t talk to her while at her apartment for a good month

but then he watched her burn food and he felt bad and ended up cooking something for her and they never spoke about it again

and he definitely liked you when you first met, even when he was dating padmé ( and the few flings he had after her )

he just made himself bury his feelings for a while by treating you like a best friend or little sister

hanging out with you when padmé took everyone on a lake house trip and was busy talking to others

his actual confession comes in the form of him making a really crappy bracelet at his work bench

yes, he literally set up a robotics station in his bedroom. he will literally invite you over and sound so excited to see you

only to focus and work for 8 hours with only two rockstars and his thrash metal playlist as sustenance

you can try to give him a snack and he’ll ( unintentionally ) glare at you until he realizes he’s been ignoring you for so long and he just picks you up and kisses you

now youve got anakin licking at your face and laying on top of you. he’s not coming up for air until he’s made up for every minute he ignored you accidentally

his favorite kind of date would either be a movie date or to go out for a drive then stargaze

he will put you in his clothes, whether you like it or not. and he smells a bit like like oil and sweat mixed with mint

he started getting tattoos because he saw it as a form of independence

he has one industrial piercing, and three others on each of his earlobes. the tongue piercing was for fun

he likes alternative girls more, but if you’re not alternative he won’t push you ( unless you like that )

will have a titty attack if you call him emo and not a metalhead ( theres a difference )

18 + hc

he’s so fucking WEIRD

so he probably gets off every other day because of his mind ( and because his hands wander so much that he gets himself worked up )

to get into the idea i mentioned in boyfriend

he got your name near his navel and once he realized he liked you, he would try to aim his releases over your name

and he’s not a bad shot

his hands wander naturally because he just likes to feel your skin. like its not even his intent to get sexual, he’s absently rubbing your back and like 5 minutes later he’s just massaging your ass and tits if you lay on him

he’s actually really big on doggy, he just really likes to look at your back

so he also likes bending you over tables, counters, his workbench, his bed, and security desk at work

he has aquaphilia. will feel you up in pools and in large bodies of water

he really likes biting and marking

during sex, he likes to focus on your neck and back

but in general he would be the kind of guy to give you a forehead hickey

and will rub off any makeup you put on to cover it

prefers to praise and worship you, and if you try the same, he’ll get awkward and embarrassed but lap it up anyways

if you degrade him and objectify him, he will fuck you within an inch of your life

he also has his own playlists that he plays when you guys are fucking

he broke the door to his room so it’s not the best place to have sex, unless youre ok with the possibility of someone walking in

obi wan accidentally walked in on you both once and had to leave the apartment for a week

he has tried to fuck you in his car but you bumped your head and he drove you straight home to ice it, refuses to even get road head because of it

#[ 🍒 ] — my works #[ 💫 ] — anakin #star wars #anakin x fem reader #anakin #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin smut #anakin star wars #star wars smut #anakin x you #anakin x reader #sw anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x y/n #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #star wars x reader #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin modern au #modern!anakin skywalker

[soratoninn]

/ some typa’ way. a. arlert /

tw . . . mature, female anatomy (she/her) pronouns, black coded reader, l word, switch armin, fingering, rough sex, titty fucking, raw dogging, blowjob, dirty talk, pn ( babe, baby ) alcohol, choking, mentions of overstim, (2) rounds, creampie

length. . . 11.4k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ★

your miserable sighs radiated off the walls of the hazy and dimly lit bar. you twirl the callus of your index finger around the crystalline shot glass, thinking rough and hard about not only your life in nursing school but also the affairs in your outside life. you were exhausted no doubt. not only having to stay arm and arm with your work and professors but also having to do shifts at a nursing home to gain experience. you were working your ass off now, but you knew sooner rather than later it would pay off.

a life full of chanel bags, travel, dior, fun, first class, no kids, shaking ass on a lavish yacht with your bestest girlfriends, chauffeurs, and exotic restaurants.

to sum it up, a life you deserved.

but although that was the future and right now the present sucked, you still had things keeping you sane.

those things being those best friends you had plans doing not so classy activities with, the few professors that actually put in the work to explain materials to you after a long lecture, some of your co-workers,

and then last but not least—

your fuck buddy, armin arlert.

an upcoming police officer still undergoing school and training with his best friend, eren. you two had gone to different high schools but were initially introduced your junior year by your friend—christa, who you were also attending nursing school with.

the blonde didn’t have as good a stomach as you did. she couldn’t stomach wounds or even the thought of having to probably stick her hand in a woman during birth to potentially save their life if they were hemorrhaging. which is why you were a bit confused about why she wanted to join the particular field of nursing she did. but you were sure when it came time, she would find her place and not disappoint due to her concentrated and caring attitude.

but enough about christa. back to armin.

to put it simply, armin was sexy. and you knew the minute he got his uniform, gun, and badge, he would be the ultimate panty dropper.

but for now, he was yours.

you both had developed a friendship over time and it gradually got deeper by the time you two had graduated.

the first time you two had fucked, it was completely unexpected. you two were at a varsity college party and unlike your friends that were undeniably fitting in, you two had a much harder time. you had driven your drunk friends to your house and let them crash there. you were catching up with one another and one thing led to another and sooner rather than later you two were quietly and without any experience once however—sharing not-so-innocent touches in your old bedroom.

deciding that you didn’t want your intimacy to end, you both kept it up. beginning to grow more mature and experienced in bed, he slowly learned your body. what you liked, where you liked to be touched, and the parts that he touched that drove you insane. he made love to you soft. gentle. like he had all the time in the world.

never in his life dreaming of hurting you.

and it was nice at first! of course, it was! he treated you like a princess in bed and gave you nothing less than princess treatment. showing you the delights and sweet pleasure of his tongue and the ecstasies he could bring about with just two fingers. he was what anyone woman would want in bed.

but there was the con of him being too damn soft. it was so fun with him and you really didn’t want to ruin it because of your selfish tendencies and wants. you wanted him to be rough with you. you wanted to be manhandled. treated like a whore. for him not to stop until you were a sobbing mess.

you wanted to be fucked.

and you knew he just wouldn’t go for it.

you tried to initiate it once before. telling him to put his hand around your throat and moaning out for him to go harder. faster. and he did go harder, and somewhat faster— making sure his strokes were nice and deep to get you pumped up. but the thing was that his hand didn’t meet your neck once.

“girl, what’s wrong? your vibes been off since we got here!” your friend aliyah asked, and you groaned at her question, grabbing your shot and downing it quickly. “I’ll tell you, it’s that lil piece of hers that got her feelin' some typa way,” your friend, hope kicked in, and you rolled your eyes. you drop your head with a whine and feel your friend's hands rub your back.

“he just won’t. . . he’s so perfect it’s just. . .” you trickle out and they let out a few ‘awes’. “what’s wrong?! tell us everything!” aliyah exclaims taking a sip of her alcohol-infused soda.

“armin. . . he just won’t…” you stop, not even being able to verbally spit the words out. “come on girl! get it out! it’ll feel much better!” hope encourages and you finally feel something snap. “he just won’t fuck me right…” you whisper, and they gasp. before they can jump to any conclusions, you make sure to clear up any speculations degrading armin as a partner.

“no, not like that! he’s really good in bed. like the absolute best! he’s patient, slow, encouraging, and he’s really sweet,” you say, and they tiredly deadpan in confusion. “but… i don’t think i want our sessions to be slow and sweet anymore.” you finish, and their expressions light up. they clasp their hands together with a squeal.

“oh my god! our precious little y/n wants to be fucked like a slut!” you embarrassingly slap your forehead with your palm, feeling all eyes on you right about now. “wellll, have you considered talking to him about it?” hope asks, and you go right back to sulking.

“no, but i’ve tried to hint at it but he just didn’t get the memo i guess,” you respond and they finally begin to understand where you were coming from.

“well, baby, i hate to say it… but a closed mouth don’t get fed. if you want him to do something, you have to tell ‘im. you can’t expect him to read your mind,” aliyah states, and you nod your head in comprehension. “yeahhh, i know. . . it’s just that armin is literally one of the best things that i have right now—“

your friends cleared their throats dramatically and started glaring holes in your head. you sighed before smiling and giggling.

“second best.”

“and i just really don’t wanna fuck it up because of something so small,” you added, and they just smiled. “don’t think too hard on it, baby. i’m sure everything’ll come around,” hope said, and aliyah agreed.

you feel a weight lifted off your shoulder and finally feel able to enjoy your night with your best friends.

as your conversation ended, little did you know a certain muscular dark-brown-haired man was eavesdropping on your every word. he drank his last sip of shirley temple (without alcohol), taking the cherry in his mouth and letting the sweet juice ooze to fire up his taste buds. he threw the stem in the cup and let a twenty lay flat on the wooden bar island.

ᝰ

a tired armin walked out of the steaming bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his hips and one drying the blonde strands of his hair. he strolled over to the dark wooded nightstand of his apartment and grabbed his phone checking for any notifications.

notifications specifically coming from you.

much to his dismay, nothing. absolutely nothing from you. he sighed before putting it back down. you hadn’t texted him for over a week. we’re you ghosting him? he hadn’t been sure what he had done wrong.

so that’s exactly why he had sent his man bun having friend to spy on you at the bar you occasionally attended with your girlfriends when you had spare time.

and as if on cue, his spying friend walked through the door of their shared apartment. he removed his black hoodie the minute he walked through the door— his prominent v-line and built figure becoming more and more toned by the day from him working out like a maniac to prepare for life in the police force.

“so, how is she?” armin voiced first, and eren took his hair from his elastic hair tie. “looked healthy and alive to me,” eren responded nonchalantly whilst walking to his dresser to pull a black tee from his drawer. while eren had his back turned, armin dropped his towel and took the opportunity to pull on a fresh pair of cotton boxers.

“you hear anything important?” he asked while pulling a white beater from his drawer. the room went silent for a bit as if eren was deciphering something. and then, a light bulb popped into his head.

“actually, yeah.”

armin continued to search through his drawers for a pair of sweat-shorts, waiting for him to finish up with his words. he finally found a pair, putting them on and letting them loosely and comfortably hang from his hips. as armin reaches for his reading glasses, eren finally finishes his sentence.

“something about you not fucking her right,”

eren concludes, and armin freezes.

his arm stopped in mid-air not even touching his glasses. he turned around, meeting his friend's eye with a glare. “that’s not funny, eren,” armin deadpanned. they shared cold eye contact before eren broke and snickered.

“chill out lover boy. she didn’t say that but from what i’ve heard, it was something about her wantin’ to be fucked like a slut instead of all that mushy shit you keep doing.” armin slightly gasped, and his eyes dropped to the floor. he grabbed his glasses and put them on, letting his eyesight enhance.

“armin, don’t take it to heart. she doesn’t wanna ditch you. she just doesn’t wanna fuck everything up by making you uncomfortable. and of course, her being an awkward overthinker and taking the literal worst approach, just like you would— she just started avoiding you,” eren stated, and armin sat down on his bed with a sulk, sighing heavily.

“i know, i know. i just. . .” armin’s hands that rested between his thighs came up under his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “are you comfortable with that? like the whole being rough thing? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you real mad before,” eren asks, and armin moved his hands.

“i’m more than comfortable, i just don’t wanna fuck up and accidentally hurt her,” armin groaned out, and eren smirked.

“think you could hurt her more than her sexual frustration?” armin gave eren a stink eye and before he knew it, eren was laughing uncontrollably like a kid. “you’re an asshole, eren,” armin slightly smiled, and eren fell dramatically back on his bed.

“hey, don’t think too hard on it,” eren remarked at armin’s evident fuzzy expression. “i wanna do it. i’m gonna do it. it’s just that i like some of the mushy shit we do,” armin said, and began to ponder a little on his answer. “actually, I like a lot of it.” he finished and eren snickered.

“well, you don’t gotta stop doing everything you’re used to. really that’d make shit a lot more uncomfortable and weird faster than your head could spin. so just stick with what you're used to but just rock it out as you go” eren replied and armin took in the information. “yeah. you’re right.”

eren sighed before rolling over on his side, starting to get comfortable in his bed. before he could drift off, he uttered a few restless words to armin. “don’t forget. you owe me for making me look like a fucking creeper at that bar.” armin smiled, grabbing a book and a small flat panel book light from his nightstand.

“yup. wouldn’t forget for anything in the world.”

ᝰ

like always, you were incredible exhausted. you had did a shift at the 7-3 shift at the nursing home and lord knows you were tired. you thanked the heavens that you didn’t take the night shift because you weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to handle all the stress. you get out of your uber, and stride to your house. the house you grew up in, fortunately that your mom let you take while she was away living her life with no kids in jamaica.

you push the key in the door, twisting it and letting the door open. you walk in kicking it shut with your foot and locking it. you throw your key on the silver plate on the nightstand next to your front door. you head straight for the showers at this point feeling dirty and undignified. you felt like you smelled like old dirty must with a mix of musky lavender and old people. it was the fucking worst.

you walk into your bedroom, deciding to go a little more revealing considering you’d be alone tonight (so you’d thought). a black bra with matching panties and a robe. you took your scrubs and undergarments off, throwing them directly into your hamper. you twisted your frizzy hair into twists before sliding your pink butterfly decorated bonnet on. you put

your phone on the charger and rest it on the nightstand— and you wrap your towel around your body.

walking out of your room into the bathroom, you turn the knob of the shower and hold your hand out to check if the water was hot enough. when it was to your liking, you stepped in and automatically began bathing. you breathed out steadily and comfortably at the feeling of the water on your skin. you felt as if you were washing away not only the dirt, but your inner sins. showers like these were always the best after a long day.

you grabbed your rag, getting your sensitive skinned soap off the shower organizer and began lathering your body in it. there wasn’t a thought in your mind at the moment, but there was an unmistakably unsettling feeling settling on your skin.

it was as if your mind and energy from within was telling you something was going to happen. but you couldn’t mind it right now. not when you were so hyper fixated on how good the water against you felt. after about twenty-thirty minutes in the shower and the skin on the callus of your finger took a pruny look.

you wrapped your towel around your body and walked to your bedroom. you dry your body down, and begin to lather up in your shea butter and your method coconut, rice milk, and shea butter lotion that you grabbed off a high shelf from target. taking your bonnet off you take your curls out from the twists, slightly combing them out, but not too much to keep the slight tight lock look. you put your hair up in a loose ponytail, admiring the way the somewhat curls spilled out.

slipping your panties and bra on, you wrap your silk black robe around your figure. you slide your vanilla white fluffy slippers on and grab your phone and charger to ensure you wouldn’t have to move a fucking foot off the coach unless it was to use the downstairs bathroom. walking out of the bedroom, you make your way down the hall and start down the steps.

you walk into the living room and plug your phone up and put it on the couch before playfully jumping on the couch and rolling all the way over to the kitchen. you wobbly and giggly walk into the kitchen, and grab a glass from the bar cabinet. you slightly run the callous of your index finger along the bottles that courageously stood on the shelf. you decide you on an average, but good bottle of red wine.

you pour yourself a glass and open the refrigerator. your eye twitched, simply not wanting anything. but then your eyes fell upon a bag of green seedless grapes, and you smiled in victory.

putting the grapes into a bowl and washing them, you grab your wine and make your way to the couch. you put your drink down on the coffee table, carrying your bowl to turn out the light. sitting down you scroll for a movie or a show, settling for nonetheless the classic, shameless. your favorite porn with a plot. you grabbed the folded blanket on the couch and spread it over yourself.

this was fucking amazing.

you were finally laying back, your feet propped on the comfortable couch watching one of your beloved shows.

you had lost track of time, but all you knew was that it was dark outside and your glass of wine and grapes were gone having fallen pure victim to your mouth. you had dozed off to sleep with the show still running. maybe it was a symptom of working and going to school so much that you hadn’t even recognized that you were even asleep.

but you were pulled away when there was a knock to your door. you jolted awake, and shook the sleep away and let your hands rub at your eyes. god, what fucking time was it? you looked at the tv box surprised as you read 8:45 PM. no fucking way you were going to sleep now.

you stood up and rewrapped your robe, and slid your slippers back on. another knock erupted from the person behind the door and your eyebrow lifted. “just a minute!” you call out and you walked to the door — tiredly forgetting to look out of the peephole. you unlock it and open the door while continuously rubbing your eyes.

to your surprise, it was…

“armin?” your groggy voice is apparent as just having been sleep. “what’re you doing here-“ before you could finish your sentence, all of a sudden you were being shoved into your house. the door shut with the kick of a foot and suddenly your chest was pressed against it. the stupor of tire had fallen right out of you from the surprise. “armin! what are you— oh. . .!” you couldn’t suppress the sound of surprise that fell from your lips as armin suddenly snapped his hips up into you.

he offered you no words of welcome. instead, whispering in your ear; “do you want it?”

his words shock you at the suddenness off all of it. at the same time, you felt like you knew what “it” meant, but at the same time you didn’t. armin had never been this rough with you before. but with all the pent up sexual frustration you had from him not doing you the way you wanted to be did, you felt no reason to say no. in fact, you felt more motivated to get him more worked up.

“yes. . . yes, i want it.” you reply, grinding your ass back on him and you hear him groan behind you. you feel him ease up and you taken the opportunity to spin around and wrap your hands around his neck. he placed his hands on the back meat of your thigh motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist. his strength coming in handy from him spending various hard working days and building muscles at the gym. his head dropped at your neck, sucking fierce hickeys into your skin.

you sigh blissfully at the feeling of him licking over your pleasure points. “why’re you being so aggressive, armin?” you softly breathe, rubbing your hands into his hair and massaging his scalp just the way he liked. “why’re you avoiding me?” he puts bass in his voice at the word you and you gasp as he bites your neck while violently pushing his hips up into you.

“i don’t know what you’re— fuck… talking about—“ you whisper out in between passionate moans. “tell me what you want.” between the malicious grinding and the nipping at the pleasure points of your neck, you felt your pride bit by bit going out the door he quite literally just came in from. “how do you want me to fuck you, y/n? a closed mouth won’t get fed,” his breath hit the shell of your ear and you let out a whine.

“please. . .” you moan, feeling overwhelmed in pleasure as you begin to work yourself up. “tell me, baby. please what?” his words came out like a command mixed with a whine and you budged. “armin. . . i want you to fuck me rough… fuck, please.” you feel him let out a shaken breath at your words as if he wasn’t expecting you to be so brazenly blunt.

“god, you’re so fucking hot. c’mere,” his command immediately fires and blazes up the candle lit between you two and your lips meet roughly. he walked toward the staircase and carried you at the same time. he pulled away from your lips for a bit, focusing on getting up the steps safely. it’d be a real mess if he lost footing and tripped down the steps with you still in his arms. that would surely kill the mood.

he gasped as he felt your lips kissing and slightly biting his neck, making sure not to leave any hickeys. you could hide your marks easily with makeup or even a long necked shirt under your scrubs. but armin unfortunately couldn’t. not when he was at training or at the gym. so that was a rule that was set between you two. finally, he was up the steps and he walked to your bedroom. he walked in and kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe.

the minute he did you were already placed on the bed by him. he was already taking his shoes off and socks off, kicking them off to the side. he’d stalk toward you, and look you in the eye before rubbing your chin and jaw. “you sure you want this, babe? i don’t wanna hurt you,” his thumb rubbed over your lip and you smiled. the terms of endearment that you both called each other always made you feel bubbly inside even though you two weren’t in a relationship.

“you have no idea how much i want this armin. i want you so bad,” your hands rubbed over the tent that bulged out of his pants. he groaned before grabbing your hand. he had already knew where you were going with it.

“not like that.”

your hand rested back at your side and you noticed as his eyes were fixated on your chest then at your lips. you were slightly confused on what he was aiming at but then, it hit you.

oh.

his hands rubbed over your shoulder, and he smoothly slid your robe off your shoulders. you tense at the feeling of cold being met with your skin and the hair tickling feeling of the robe being slipped off. when your robe was entirely off of your upper half, his head slowly moved down to your head in a leaning position, and his hands placed themselves on either sides of your cheeks. his soft, buttered lips engulfed yours in a steamy kiss and you feel your thighs begin to tremble.

his hands rubbed the sides of your belly and you moaned into his mouth. his hands slither from cradling your face to your back. his hands maneuver their way to your bra and he unhooks it letting the hooks swiftly fly apart. he only moves away from you when you’re seemingly running out of breath. with another steaming tongue kiss, he moves away from you and stands at his full height. he takes your bra completely off and you shudder from the slight breeze in your room.

your eyes look up to his face, then down to his belt. his belt and pants were in the way at this point. your teeth slightly bite down on your lip and you give him a doe eyed expression. armin always gave you what you wanted the minute you gave him these eyes. your eyes fixated on his belt and your hands followed in pursuit. your hands rubbed the rough strap of his belt while letting your eyes roll up and meet his. keeping eye contact with him, he cracks first and you watch him toss his head back with a groans.

“can i please take these off, baby?” you ask, referring to both his pants and belt. he sighs blissfully. “fuck, yes. please,” he responds and you smile in victory. your hands scramble with his belt buckle, sliding the belt strap out and the metal part out. once the belt was unbuckled, you automatically remove the button from his pants and you slow your pace down a bit as you pull his hard cock from his boxers.

before you could take anymore control of the situation, armin grabbed a slight rough hold of your chin and moved your head up. you gasp and your arms move away from his cock on instinct. “slow down, i’m not going anywhere. okay?” his hand extends to your lip, and rubs your bottom lip. you repetitively nod in response and even you were taken aback by your sudden push into submission.

“talk to me, baby. i need you to use your words.”

fuck, you knew he was good at dirty talking you. he would always guide you through sex. but something about this felt so different and more sinful.

“yes, yes. okay,” you impatiently respond. “please let me touch you.”

armin felt his heart drop at this moment. you were already begging for him and he hadn’t barely touched you. he felt an ominous tingle settle on the back of his neck. it was taking him everything not to just bend you over the bed and take you over and over again until you physically couldn’t take it anymore.

“open your mouth.” you felt your stomach drop at his words. the tingles you felt in your stomach couldn’t be missed. you humbly abide by his command and part your lips, opening up enough so that his cock would fit. his hand tugged your head forward bringing you closer to his cock— which was dripping with pre-cum.

“you know what to do to me baby,” you don’t hesitate as you lick his tip and soon wrap your lips around it. “fuck yes, there you go,” you slowly move your head in, feeling tears prick your eyes automatically. you hollow your cheeks, and feel your head begin to cloud up at the lewd sounds that you two made as you both set a pace. his thumbs roughly dig into your head and he started to snap his hips up, meeting your mouth.

you hands gripped his shirt as you were really starting to depend on breathing through your nose. you felt your jaw begin to sore up and numb a little already from how rough he was being with you. “just like that b—babe, fuck. suck it like that. you’re doing so good f’me.”

armin was in heaven right now. he felt like the luckiest man on earth to see the sight laid upon him right now. your eyes lidded, your pretty hands gripping onto his polo white tee for dear life, and how fucking nasty and sinful you looked. your spit coated his cock in the nastiest way when you gave him head. but he didn’t want to get too lost in pleasure and forget about the tasks at hand. but it was so damn hard to find the courage to tell you to stop sucking him.

finally, after a few more thrusts and a few more gargles, he finally told you to stop. “fuck, fuck, stop.” you stopped the minute he told you to as if you’d been frozen. you pull him out of your mouth with a pop and he lets out a shaky chuckle as he wiped the spit from the side of your mouth. you give him a cloudy look of confusion and he just snickers again. “don’t wanna finish too quick. i still have a lotta other things i wanna do to you.”

fuck, he was driving you crazy. his words. his praise. his everything.

he guides his hands to yours and he puts your hands up to your chest. you already knew where this was going and you let yourself handle the rest. you pushed your tits together and armin admired the blasphemous sight before him.

“you gonna let me use you?”

“yes.”

“if it’s too much, you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

“mhm.”

“are you sure you sure you want this?”

“god, armin please just use me already,” your words make armin snap to realization. he was fucking up again. he had come this far and he wouldn’t dare kill the mood. “okay,” was all he said, before rubbing his cock on your tits. out of nowhere, you felt sudden wetness on your chest. your eyes peer down and— holy fuck.

he just spat on your tits.

he used his cock to spread his saliva all over your chest, lathering you up. he stopped when he was right under your boob, and to your surprise, he pushed right on up. he let out a moan, and your legs snapped shut like a swinging door. your thighs rub together and you whimper, beginning to work yourself up.

every-time he pushed his cock up, your lips were faced with his remaining inches. you could feel it. you were soaking. you were trying to release the tense feeling between your legs by rubbing your thighs together, but to no avail, it wouldn’t get you off. you wanted— no you needed to be filled by him. you needed to speed this process up. thus, this time when he pushed himself up into your breasts, you darted your tongue out on his tip.

the pitch of his moans went up, and his pace increased as he got needier and needier. “holy— fuck, fuck, fuck. . .” he moaned, and you could tell he was nearing the edge. it felt fucking amazing to know you were making him feel so good.

his whimpers were constant and the turns and twists of your stomach never ceased due to the lewdness of your activities. his face balled up and his hands gripped at your shoulders. “fuck. . . no more, no more,” he breathed out and you let your tongue lay flat back in your mouth. you stopped holding your breasts together and his hard cock snapped right back up to his abdomen. the sinful sight of you added kerosene to the fire that was already sparked between you two.

“fuck. turn over. turn over right fucking now.” his command does not slip into one ear and out the other. you immediately turn your body over, spreading out comfortably. you put your ass in the air and turn your head to the right side to catch a glimpse of him for his validation. “there you go, baby. so good f’me,” your pussy clenched at his praise, and his cold palm began to rub all over your body, starting at your asscheeks. he noticed how you sensitively jolted at his sudden touch.

“you must be so worked up. i’m so sorry, baby.” his hands rubbed down your sides before maneuvering down to push your panties down your thighs. you feel a shiver run down your spine at his actions. this position was so intimate to the point you couldn’t even hide from him. but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine running considering how needy he had you. “‘min…” you whimper out his name as he rubbed your thighs— clearly avoiding where you needed him the most.

“fuck, you’re so wet. this all for me?” he asked already knowing the answer. you groan at his question, and try to push your ass back on him. “what do you think, captain obvious?” he grins at your cattiness.

“should i not touch you at all?” you whine in regret, and your lips pout. “please, i’m sorry.” he smiled at your compliance and rubbed lovingly at your sides. his hands trailed back down toward your ass, and he finally let his finger slide between your lower lips. your whole body shuddered and soft moans spilled from your plump lips as he began to slowly circle your clit with both his ring and middle finger.

“fuck, a—armin. . . you’re driving me crazy,” you spill out with a groan as you push yourself back on his fingers. “i know, i know. i’ll make it all go away,” he reinsured softly, but in the most mocking tone. he let himself steady on the bed, towering over you. before you could register his sudden shadow, armin’s middle finger was buried into you with his ring finger slowly coming with it.

your mouth made an “o” shape at the sudden pressure. your surprised moans came quickly.

he curled his fingers inside you in search of the spongy spot that would make you scream for him.

without any surprises, he found it instantly.

“shit— oh shit,” you moaned out as his speed increased tenfold. usually when armin fingered you, he took his time with you to make sure you were fully prepared and to maybe even see if there was anything else he could do while doing it that would get you even more turned on.

but this?

this was rough and done without any remorse.

he was pounding you from the back with his long, slender fingers like a madman. your cheeks were flushed and you were drooling stupidly onto the pillows from your mouth being dropped open from pleasured shock and moans. you cried out at the feeling of armin’s fingers continuously fucking your spot, and your thighs began to tremble.

your mouth felt dry as if you had swallowed sand. but you still felt the need for his validation and permission.

“m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum. armin please let me,” you cry out and he’s surprised at how submissive you were being. he wanted nothing more than for you, his pretty girl, to get what you wanted— which was sweet release. any other time, he would’ve gave it to you without any questions asked. but right now, you bitching about sensitivity before he got to the main course of the night was the last thing he needed.

thus, his response simply being a mean;

“no.”

he pulled his fingers out of you with a lewd popping sound, but that was nothing compared to the audible whine you let out feeling your euphoria that was to come being snatched away from you. you look back at him with a spiteful face, straight mean mugging him. before you could continue, he shut that shit down immediately with a hand around your throat.

“fix your face, y/n. only reason i didn’t let you cum was because i wanted you to do it on my dick,” he states, squeezing the sides of your neck ultimately forcing you back into a clouded and compliant state of mind. “but if you keep it up with this little attitude of yours, i won’t give you anything.” you whined out at his words, not wanting anything to do with the consequences of your actions. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. please armin, i need it so bad,” you babble and armin just smiled.

he leaned down and kissed your shoulder, letting your neck go and you finally let yourself properly inhale and exhale. “since you have such good manners, ill give it to you. okay?” you nod repeatedly, letting out a stream of “yes” and “please”.

with your consent valid in green, he wrapped his hand around his cock, and brought it to your dripping hot sex. he rubbed your clit with his tip vertically, letting out a chilled breath at the way your pussy was already coating him in the nastiest way and he hadn’t even got a taste of her.

“m gonna put it in now, okay?” he leaned down with his dick in his left hand while he used his right to place himself as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “you’ll tell me if i’m too rough or if you wanna stop and take it easy, right?”

“mhm, i will. i swear,” in these moments with him kissing the side of your head and whispering in your ear about how lucky he was to be with you in these moments made everything that wasn’t him and the comfortable cotton sheets under you dissolve into nothingness. it was just you, him, and your bed floating above ground without gravity holding it down.

and you were still floating as he kept whispering in your ear and slowly sunk himself into you. your mouth was dropped open with no sounds coming out as you instinctively focused on the pressure on your lower half. armin was panting out breaths trying hard not to absolutely obliterate you in searching for his own pleasure.

his whisperings of; “i’ve got you,” and “you’re doing so well already,” never ceasing. once he sunk all the way in, he could feel your cunt pulsing and clenching on him. he knew you were trying to adjust, but if you kept this up he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to do what you wanted.

“stop. fucking. doing. that.” armin hissed out. the aggression in his tone masked the neediness that coated him like polish. he slowly moved himself back, before sliding into you. he wanted to go slow with you first before speeding up because he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

now, you were both softly moaning in symphony. you couldn’t deny that you loved this position and the way he was fucking you in it. part of you hated yourself for even daring to complain about the way he fucked you, but you couldn’t deny your interest in trying different things. but you did feel like shit and overall ashamed about the way you went about it.

“m sorry, i’m s—hm! sorry ‘min,” you babble out, slightly stumbling on your words as you could feel him pressing against your spot. armin’s brows furrowed, but his confused face shortly took on a face twisted in blind pleasure. “f—for what?” he asked, kissing your shoulder blade.

his affection made tears prick your eyes and your heavy breaths kept coming out. you kept trying to form coherent words but they all came out pressed together.

“foravoidingyou.”

the chuckle that armin let out came out raspy. his hips continued to grind into you at a somewhat faster rate, but it was still nice and intimate. he swapped with his left hand and used it to hold himself up. he now used his right to wrap around your throat, squeezing the side making your head go airy. your eyes rolled back and your pussy clenched. armin grunted from the pressure.

he used his hand to turn your head and let his lips press against yours. you both breathed into each others mouths intimately. “s okay, baby. don’t think. just feel good.” you listened to his command, nodding repeatedly. he took advantage of your soon open mouth and slipped his pink tongue inside. you rocked your hips back on his, and the wet clapping sounds that filled the room made it obvious what you two were doing.

you two sloppily made out and you moaned as he suckled on your tongue. he pulled away from your lips, before suddenly licking them and your teeth. “focus on me, baby. i’m all yours,” he moaned out, his eyes going doe and his abdomen clenching up.

god, if only you knew he could fuck you like this forever. but much to his favor and his dismay, he couldn’t.

and he wouldn’t.

he moved up, sliding out of you as he stood up off the bed. before you had the chance to whine and beg for him to come back, a hand was being wrapped around your ankle and you were being dragged backwards. you gasp as your ass is met with armin’s length, which he taps on your pussy.

he marvels at the way your pussy was practically drooling on his cock. you were fucking perfect for him. “you’re dripping on me. . .” he lets his right hand find it’s place on your ass while the other grabs his cock ready to put it back inside. you burned with anticipation. you knew what was to come and what sort of treatment he was about to feed you. maybe that’s why you suddenly tensed up. he tried to slip back inside of you, but was shortly denied entry when your tense walls pushed him back out.

“i’m gonna give you exactly what you’ve been wanting, baby. but i need you to relax f’me, yeah?” you nod, still feeling your heartbeat out of your chest. “breathe for me, baby. we have time. if you’re not ready it’s okay. we’re here to be safe.”

you didn’t want to stop. not at all. you ached and it was an ache only armin himself could relieve. you look back at him with one side of your cheeks buried in the bed.

“i need you, please, armin.”

the doe eyed (fuck me) look you gave armin made something in him snap suddenly like a rubber band. suddenly the patient, proper young man his mother brought him up to be flew out of him like a bat out of hell. he gripped your hip and grabbed himself before again, rubbing himself against your cunt vertically.

“you are driving me fucking insane,” he aggressively rasped, before mercilessly sinking his cock into you. the gasp you let out was elongated. he wasted no time pulling his hips all the way back and snapping them inside of you. you let out a hiss and a moan feeling him drag so expertly against your walls.

now, all that ran through armin’s head was what eren told him you said at the bar. his simple and blunt words of; “something about you not fucking her right” played back in his head like a broken record.

and maybe that was why he felt the need to show you just how strong and swift he’d gotten during long days of training and long nights at the gym. he wanted you to feel it. to feel him. and maybe that’s why he didn’t recognize how his pace had increased— fucking you like an animal that had something to prove.

“ah, ah, f—fuck!” you loudly moan. armin hissed at the tensity of your walls, biting down on his bottom lip. his hands slide up and grip your hips to bring you backwards to meet his thrusts.

“min’. . .” you moan out, your hands gripping the pillows strongly trying to brace yourself. something about this type of sex made you feel vulnerable, but you felt so good.

but little did you know, armin hadn’t even made half of an effort yet.

“you’re fucking me—mphm— so goodd,” you pant out and armin groans. “yeah?” he panted out in a raspy voice, not once letting the rock of his hips come to a halt. the fast, wet and loud clapping noises that came from you two were fucking nasty. nastier than they were before when he was fucking you slow and with pure purpose.

“mhm,” you moaned back to him.

his head tilted back with his lips parted as he let out soft moans. his hair fell back with him, and his eyes forced themselves shut as he was grasping in the pleasure. after a few seconds of drinking in his own pleasure, he gained back self control and decided it was time to really make you feel good.

his hair was messy and his forehead began to develop small beads of sweat due to quite the workout he was getting in. his grip on your hips stabled and he’d begin to brace himself for the way he was about to fuck you. because little did you know, the speed and intensity he was fucking with you just a moment ago was nothing compared to how he was gonna fuck you now. he pulled back letting only his tip rest inside of you.

he knew that you probably thought he was gonna go right back to how he was doing you before. but it was quite the contrast because when he pushed in, he was automatically angling at your spot.

you didn’t realize how long your loud moan was until your voice had cut off, not allowing you to let anything out.

he pulled his hips back before slamming into you again and you shuddered at the sensitive feeling of him in your stomach. he kept up with fucking you aggressively with a fucked out flushed face and upper teeth digging into his plush bottom lip. the increased speed and impact of his thrusts had you sobbing crocodile tears in fat globs.

“baby, s’ too deepp. . .” you cry and sniffle into the sheets. you felt the wind being knocked out of you from every push of his hips. you had no fucking idea what was going through armin’s head right now and that scared you. but you couldn’t lie that it made you wetter, which gave him all the more access.

“take it. i know you can.” his words make you whine, but you never would’ve expected that his response to your brattiness would’ve been a hard palm coming down to brutally slap your ass. you sobbed loudly, your mouth sputtering apologies. your cries fell on death ears as armin continued fucking you with no remorse.

instinctively, your hands went behind you to push at hips to try and slow him down. “move your hand.” your attempts failed as armin gripped both of your wrists in his left hand while his right roughly clapped down on your ass. you tried to pussy out and run away from the pleasure, but armin at this point was sick and tired of your shit.

he spanked you once, before once turned into five times. he groaned as your ass jiggled back in his palm and he left your bottom stinging and red. “stop fucking running,” he started, his tone husky as he growled listening to you sob and moan out in pleasure into the sheets.

“why do you never listen to me? do i treat you too well?” you shook you head no repeatedly, not being able to form words from how perfectly his tip rested against your spot. your legs were shaking and you were sure how long you would be able to take him like this.

“y/n,” he called out your name, and he had felt you clench on him.

you were going dumb on him a little too soon for his liking.

“open your mouth and talk.” your lips quivered and you forked over the first response that thankfully spilled into your head.

“i’m sorry. i’ll be good. i love the way you treat me, armin.” if armin wasn’t red before, he was definitely now. “then let me make you cum. please, baby. i’ll make you feel so good,” he meant for his words to be slightly dominant, but they only came out in a whiny tone and you nodded, sniffling.

“o—kay.” he let you catch up with your breath, before pulling out halfway and pushing back in. he gripped your wrist behind your back with both of his strong hands to help you meet his thrusts. his veins were bulging out of the back of his hand while he grabbed them. his pace increased and you were sure passersby heard not only your moans, but his too. the bed kept hitting the wall, possibly even putting a dent into it.

“armin, a—armin!” tears kept spilling from your face and you felt your orgasm about to roll in. “y—yes, baby? fuck— you feel so fucking good,” his praise made you moan out and clench his cock. “cum— i’m gonna cum!” he whimpered in response, feeling his abdomen begin to swirl with a tingling sensation he was all too familiar with.

“m. . . me too,” he whispered, panting out. he was swearing under his breath, saying how good you were making him feel, and how he felt so lucky to be with you like this.

with another thrust of his hips and more words of praise, you had came with a cry and scream of his name. you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and your knees had given out. thankfully, you had a caring man behind you who immediately wrapped his arms around you. he held your waist up to fuck you through your orgasm. he leaned down and pressed kisses to your shoulder.

he was moaning close in your ear, his heavy breaths for air kissing your ear. “m so close,” he moaned out, and your walls involuntarily clamped down on his cock. your teeth bit down on your lip and you whimpered at the sensitivity. but you wanted his validation more than anything right now. “s okay min, you can use me.” he moaned back at you in response and he could feel your legs shake under him.

he knew you were sensitive from your recent orgasm and the last thing he wanted to do was cause pain for you. “t—thank you, baby. thank you so much. i. . . i’ll be quick. i promise,” he babbled in your ear, and you were still hazy from how hard euphoria had hit you. you tried not to focus on the raw stimulation as armin continued to drill himself into you.

he was a moaning mess in your ear, and you knew he was bound to cum soon from how sloppy his thrusts were.

everything armin did was done with precision and was always thoroughly thought out before he carried it out. but when armin was about to release, it was a side that not even he himself knew he had.

“agh, fuck!” he whimpered and he was right on the tipping edge. he continued on for a few moments until he finally pulled out and after stroking himself, he finally busted. he came on the stinging skin of your ass. he was trying to be careful to not crush you with his body weight.

you both took breaths for air trying to catch up with the session you two just had. he was the first to catch up and he rolled over to lay next to you. he let his arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. he rubbed your bare back and you sighed into his touch. “that was really. . .” he started and you smiled.

“fucking amazing,” you both finished and you looked at each other with widened eyes, startled. you both laughed and you snorted, causing more laughter to emit from you two. once the laughter died down, you both looked into each others eyes, and he moved a sweaty piece of your hair out of your face.

“you look so beautiful. you always do,” he said with a blush on his face, and a toothy smile paints your face. you lean in and press a kiss to his forehead, then to his cheek, and finally to his lips. it was funny how he had just literally obliterated your insides and now he was cuddled up with you while rubbing your back.

“thank you, baby. you treat me so well.”

his face was still flushed and you found it to be normal. well that was until he started to look away from you and avoid eye contact with you. your hand went to his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “min, what’s wrong?” you ask, genuinely concerned.

“i. . .” he started, and he looked at your smiling, encouraging face. due to that, he felt less insecure telling you what he wanted from you. “i wanna go again.” his words stun you a bit, and he automatically takes it as a no. “m sorry, m sorry. i’m so greedy for asking that,” he apologizes repeatedly, and you immediately snap him out of it.

“no, no, you’re good. i promise. just— can you get me towel or something to wipe off the. . . y’ know…” he nodded as he got up and you admired how strong he’d gotten. his chest and legs were toned, his abs were coming in, and his calves were looking strong too.

he went into the bathroom and grabbed a fresh towel off one of the metal hooks. he walked back in and sat back on the edge of the bed. you turned over and his hand gripped the towel as he wiped his own sticky substances off the curve of your ass.

he balled the towel up before tossing it into the hamper— ultimately making it. he smiled in childish victory watching you move back to rest your head in the pillows. he chuckled, laying his palm flat for stabilization as he climbed on top of you. he kissed your lips lovingly, and your hands found their place on either sides of his cheeks. your inner thighs found the sides of his hips. he pulled away from your mouth slightly— but overall, he was still close. a sloppy wet sound emitted from your mouths.

“how do you want it?” he asked, panting against your kiss swole lips. in this moment, you wanted him to be closer than ever to you. you wanted him to be slow and to treat you like delicate glassware that would break by one small irresponsible touch. you kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck trying to bring him closer to you. when you parted again, he was blushing against you and you could definitely feel his cock hardening against you.

“i want you to be slow, please?”

“yes!” he says louder than usual, and when he realized the height of his tone, his cheeks took on a pink hue. “yes of course.” he said that im a more regular tone and he toothily smiles at you, leans his face to the side, and kisses you smoothly. he behaved like a man who had just hit the lottery. although he had just came to find out he enjoyed fucking you like a man who had lost his morals, he loved fucking you slowly and worshipping every last part of you.

“ready?” he whispered in your ear and he put his face in your neck, licking the side of it. “mhm, yes,” you moan out as he started to suck deeper bruises into your neck. your body shivered intensely in anticipation. he kept his face hidden in your neck. the inner thighs that were just resting on his hips turned into your legs being wrapped around his slutty waist.

you could feel his tip sliding up and down on your clit. you let your fingertips play with the locks of his hair and massage his scalp as he slowly slid himself back into you. your lips part from the blazing stretch.

“fuck. . .” you both whimper in sync. when he bottomed out inside you, you were a whining mess. you were still a lil sensitive from your previous orgasm and feeling him twitch inside you left you with a feeling of fullness and euphoria.

armin knew that all the feelings you may have felt at once may have been overbearing, so he kissed your forehead lovingly and dipped his head to your ear. “doing so good f’me,” he moaned in your ear and your top teeth dug into your bottom lip in response.

“you feel so good. . . i could stay inside you forever,” he whispered, and you moaned back at him in response. “g—goddamn baby. . .” he whimpered and when he confidently pulled his hips back and snapped them up, you could feel your resolve crumble bit by bit. you felt ashamed each time he would fuck inside you and talk to you in the dirtiest ways because of the way your pussy would squelch— ultimately talking back to him.

you had truly felt whole with him pressing kisses to your head, him whispering how proud he was of you, how lucky he was to even be within an inch radius of you, and how good your pussy felt. all the intimacy mixed with pleasure was too much for you and you knew your neighbors fucking hated both of you.

there were four words to describe how you felt in these moments.

loved.

cherished.

respected.

comfortable.

never once had you felt neglected by armin and it was insane how one person, a man at that, could make you feel so valued and precious.

you felt a tear spill from your eye at the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you so good. “i feel so good, armin. . .” you whimper, your hands struggling to find their place before settling on his back. you were trying to be careful not to mark him up, but you just couldn’t help it. your nails dug into his back before you knew it. but to your surprise, he just moaned in response. “i love the way you make me feel— ah!” a sharp gasp emitted from your throat as you were cut off by his cock sitting right at your spot. your eyes had widened up and armin grinned.

bullseye.

he had snapped his hips back up as if he was teasing you and it was no surprise when your nails gripped him harder and a noisy moan escaped you.

“right there, baby?”

you couldn’t even sweep up a response as you were left speechless. your eyes were halfway shut as if you were high and he could tell you were left in a feeling of euphoria that was hard to process. you were trying to speak, but all that was coming out was nonsense, whimpering and whining. he couldn’t help but feel bad for you as tears began to feel your eyes and your legs shook around his hips.

he kissed your lips and made a frowning face. “awe, ‘s okay, baby. i’ll make it feel better,” he says as he nods his head somewhat mockingly. but damn did he live up to his expectations and make it feel better he did because right after he said he would, he chased the spot down effective immediately. “oh— fuck!” you moaned, your back arching up into his chest. if you thought the noises of your pussy were embarrassing before, you were utterly mistaken because these noises were just downright nasty.

he was beating your pussy up raw and all you could do in response was just lay there and take it. “oh m’ fcking. . . mphm, fuck!” as you moaned, your mouth hung open pathetically and armin took the opportunity to suckle on your bottom lip, occasionally biting it. if only you knew how good you looked taking him down like this. although his pace increased, his gentleness and the intimacy he provided didn’t cease once however. once he stopped sucking your lips, he started kissing all over your face in places like your cheeks, forehead, chin, and jawline.

once again, the feelings of his love begin to swell in your heart. his lips fanned your ear as he whispered the nastiest things you had ever heard in your life. such as; “i can never get enough of this pussy, i swear.” your nails drug down his back the harder he went and the more he whispered in your ear. you felt your heart jump when you heard him hiss in what you assumed was pain.

you knew nine times outta ten, you drew blood from him. “m sorry,” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes, and armin could’ve melted from your cuteness. you were too fucking adorable.

“its okay, baby. i know you can’t help it,” he whispered, kissing the side of your lip. he sat up, sitting on his knees and grabbed your hips to drag you forward. your bit the inside of your cheek at the feeling of him ultimately dragging you down on his cock. but he looked in you in your eyes as he readjusted himself inside of you to fit snug against your spot. through your teary eyes, you could see him grin.

“does that feel good baby?”

you swore— the audacity of this motherfucker.

he had your legs twitching uncontrollably and you were practically reduced to a whimpering mess. then he had the balls to you a dumbass question such as that. of course it felt fucking good. but you wouldn’t— no more so you couldn’t open your mouth to speak against it.

when he pushed forward with his tip punching right at your spot, your walls spasmed and you clenched his cock. his teeth grit at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in as if you were trying to milk him for all he had. you were nonetheless reduced to a dumb mess. you could feel your pussy leaking a mess onto the sheets below and the sticky slick that emitted from the both of you made him slip in so fucking easy.

your vision was blurry as armin kept fucking you. his fingers dug into your hips as he rocked you back and forward to help you meet his thrusts. it was safe to say that he was using you like a sex doll, but there was still him now moaning compliments. you were sure the entire block you lived on had an idea of how good your pussy was.

the man on top of you looked so fucking good. his head tilted back. his mouth dropped slightly open with the prettiest sounds coming from it. his head dropped as he looked at you. he let his left hand take control of your hips impressively as his right hand was now used to rub your bottom lip soothingly. he dropped down to lean his face closer to yours, and he began to fuck you much deeper. your tongue hung from your mouth disgustingly as you could feel the release you were waiting on.

his hips grind into you in the sexiest way possible. you couldn’t believe how good he had gotten at this. his tip knocked against your cervix and you moaned. “a—armin, i’m gonna— oh, god.”

armin knew what was gonna happen better than anyone. so instead of letting it break his stride, he let his thumb hook into your mouth and like a slut, you sucked on it the second he slid it in. he smiled like someones proud father and took it of your mouth. he stopped for a moment, letting you breathe. his left hand now left your hip and he sat up once more, towering over you. he let his hand wrap around your throat and squeezed it tighter than what he did previously. “is that too tight?” he asked and you cutely shake your head no.

“‘s just perfect, ‘min.”

he blushed, and slid himself back into you. you moaned loudly the minute he put it back in. it was like he was an expert at automatically finding your spot. it was insane the way he knew your body and its routes. he could tell he had surprised you when he put his spit soaked thumb on your puffy clit because when he did, you screamed and clenched him nice n tight.

with his thumb rubbing tight circles on your pearl and the hand on your throat experimentally squeezing the sides, you were seeing fucking stars. you knew what it was the second you started seeing white lines cloud your vision. you were about to cum, and you couldn’t even verbally tell him. armin could tell you were though because of the way you were trapping him as if you wanted him to knock a son into you. your toes were wiggling dumbly in the air and your eyes rolled back into your skull.

and just like that, you came. but what you didn’t pick up on was that this release was different from others because the minute you came, you loudly moaned three words that would change your relationship. words that a normal person would want to tell someone over a nice dinner.

you didn’t expect to yell so suddenly;

“i love you!” as your head was in the clouds.

but what was also unexpected was that the minute you said it, armins crumbled and came. he had spilled one right inside you and you couldn’t complain. when you had realized what you said, your eyes had widened like you had seen a ghost.

armin’s cheeks were pink like he’d been sunburnt as he was catching up with his breaths. sweat rolled down his forehead and down his body, and as if he was in a fitness commercial, the pearl of sweat rolled down his abs. he looked too damn good as his glow started to come in.

you both were looking at each other lopsided and stupid. both of you blinking dumbly as if he didn’t just batter your guts up.

you were the first to break the silence with a; “armin, i—“ but before you could finish, armin cut you off. “did you mean it or was it like some. . . in the moment shit?” he asked and your eyes darted to the side. “i won’t be mad with you either way, y’know—“

“i meant it,” you rush out nervously. you feel your cheeks heat up nervously and a flush of heat coat your body. the nervousness made you accidentally clench his cock and you both hiss at the sensitivity. his cock was beginning to soften inside of you and he bit his lip. “imma take it out now. ‘kay?” you nodded and braced yourself for the nasty feeling. he slowly began to pull out of you and you shivered. it was uncomfortable, but there was still a slight quiver in your lower belly.

the second he was out of you, he pulled your body into his giving you kiss after kiss. “fuck, you don’t know how happy i am to hear that,” he says and you smiled. he lay his head atop of yours and pressed a kiss to your hairline. you hear him sniffle and you gasp.

you grab his cheeks and pull him away from your hips. you were surprised as his salty tears landed on your face. “armin, why’re you crying?!” you in a slight panic. he chuckled and dropped himself to your side. you pulled him closer to you and rubbed his scalp. “i don’t know. . . i’m just— so happy,” he continued to laugh and you smiled. he was so adorable. his arms closed around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. you felt like he was squeezing the air out of you, but you couldn’t complain. it was kinda comforting in a way.

after cuddling for a little, you both had decided it was time for you to pee, and a well needed shower for the both of you. as he sat up, he stretched his muscles and you let your head sit on your palm as you enjoyed the show. you couldn’t help but feel bad at the nasty cuts starting to form on his back.

but oh well.

at least people would know exactly who he belonged to.

“hey, you never said you love me back,” you mention, tapping your lip. he chuckled, letting his fingers comb through his hair leaving him with an effortless sexy push back look. “oh, oops.” he shrugged his shoulders with a smug grin and you let out a dramatic gasp. “asshole,” your hand fell on your heart with an offended look on your face.

he rolled his eyes sky high and you gasp again before throwing a pillow straight in his direction— to which he of course caught. he tilt his head with a cocky smirk.

of course you found his expression hot as fuck though.

armin laughed before getting back on the bed and scooping you into his arms. he tickled the sides of your stomach and you giggled. he showered you in kisses all over your face and he was so damn swift you could barely meet him with half of them. he stopped and you two maintained eye contact with smiles on your faces.

“i love you too, y/n.”

butterflies pooled in your stomach and he kissed your forehead.

“so when am i taking my pretty, sexy, n beautiful girlfriend out?”

2023 WRITTEN soratoninn on tumblr, wattpad, and ao3. do not copy, modify, redistribute, translate, or write spin off stories based off of my own content. remember, plagiarism is annoying.

~ if you want to be tagged in future works, lmk in the comments.

#: sora writes! :🍃 #armin arlert #attack on titan #aot #snk #aot smut #snk smut #aot armin #armin #2023 #snk armin #armin arlert smut #armin smut #armin x black reader #@soratoninn

[cherryheartssblog]

MISTER SCARY KILLER

Summary: Y/N is a local senior at a college in California. Halloween is around the corner and there is a killer on the loose. For Y/N though everything is going quite perfectly, especially with her hidden relationship with her old high school teacher; Negan Smith. Things take a turn when Y/N's ex shows up letting his dark secrets unfold…

Warnings: SMUT, murder, blood, gore, partying, drinking, age gap ( the reader is 22-23 years old and Negan is in his 40s), jealousy, dom! Negan, smoking, drunk sex?, angst, death, sex in costume? (I think this is a warning-ish?), daddy kink!, secret relationship, mention of murder, description of murder scenes, horror movie junkie! reader, darker themes!, mentions of scream movies, cursing, submissive reader!, college partying, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, and slight obsession.

A/N: My kinktober list will be linked soon, and each one is shorter stories, little quick one shots. This is based on a mood board I found on Tumblr. @dustbunniess There was a TikTok attached to it, this kind of intrigued me. This in no way is supposed to be offensive and to me is darker but kind of weirdly cute? (Like does not need to be real but I feel like there are people who understand). Boarder is by @saradika-graphics they are so cute go check out the page!

DAY ONE OF KINKTOBER

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Y/N's lips curled up, her legs crossed laying on the man's covered thighs beside her. The bowl of popcorn rested between them, she held the remote scrolling through the endless amount of movies. Negan chuckled at her question, rubbing her smoother bare legs across him. Negan scratched his beard, watching the movies she scrolled past. "What are you thinkin' of, doll?" The nickname she loved, doll. He loved to call her that, 'his little doll.'

Negan and Y/N's relationship started when she ran into him after high school the following year. Y/N was ending her junior year in a couple of months we she ran into him at a coffee shop close to her campus. Negan was her PE teacher back in school, she always thought the man was very attractive. She had been keeping her relationship hidden from others until after college, and Y/N felt like it was for the best.

Y/N did explore and she met a perfect boy, Jackson. He treated her with a lot of respect in the beginning, giving her every need. Jackson had his demons he was fighting when he dropped out of college leaving her with a text he was going off with some other woman. The text was super brief and almost got Y/N's best friend, Claire hunt him down herself. Y/N was heartbroken but later on in those few months, she ran into Negan Smith to come sweep her off her feet.

"Why not Halloween?" Y/N clicked, seeing the play movie sign; turning her head for Negan's approval, "Just in a couple of days, y'know." She playfully winked at him causing a deeper chuckle from the older man. "You're too cute," He complimented her, his hands riding up her leg more, "That's fine with me, doll."

The movie started uploading with a few commercials first, letting herself finally bring herself to bring up her costume to Negan. Y/N and Clarie were matching for their Halloween party at Claire's boyfriend's frat house party. They were having to keep the party a secret due to police curfew hours for high school and college students. Since the end of summer, a couple of murders have occured around her campus area.

The murders kept Y/N more behind closed doors, rather than Negan keeping his eye on her. When she was at classes, most of the time he was at work. She stayed with him in town in his apartment close to her campus, Y/N had everything perfect.

Mostly, everything was perfect until Jackson returned to school the following year. Y/N sadly had to share a class with him, she wanted to drop the class so bad. But she had to have the class to graduate, Y/N also hated she had to hide the fact she shared a class with her ex. Negan flipped out when he heard he came back to town.

'He is going to try to get in your pants, sweetheart.'

'If he comes near you, I will kill him."

Y/N heard him say that a few times these past few months, she did not know why but it sent a chill down her spine. At first, it seemed like a joke to her, how he would laugh afterward. The smile brightens his whole face up, his wrinkles showing on his face more. The more she heard it though, the more she got to see Negan it seemed a little bit more sinister.

She thought it was all in her head, but Y/N kept it brushed to the side of everything.

Y/N cleared her throat, sitting up a bit keeping the popcorn close to her. "I wanted to tell you about my costume." Y/N laid her hand on his, which was rubbing her thighs. She could have sworn she felt Negan's grip get tighter, "It's a really cute idea, I got it from Spirit last week."

"You in there every week, sweetheart." Negan commented, rolling his eyes playfully, "You drag me in there every date day since it's opened." Y/N threw popcorn at him, and he just picked the pieces up throwing them into his mouth. The Halloween movie credits started to play with the theme song blaring through the TV. "That is not the point, babe." She chewed her piece of popcorn, "Me and Claire are going to match at the party."

"What party?" His voice was stern.

Y/N rolled her eyes, this time she was more annoyed. She had a party conversation with him since the beginning of October. Y/N even invited him remembering his comment, "I do not want to party with a bunch of college kids."

"We have had this conversation, I even invited you and you told me you did not want to go." Y/N quickly threw back, laying the bowl on the floor. She pulled her legs away bringing them closer to her, Y/N tried to turn her attention towards the movie. Negan grabbed her legs making her squeal pulling her underneath him. Her arms were pinned in an instant behind her head, Negan was above her having her pinned beneath him. Y/N felt herself melt underneath him, his eyes burning through her own eyes. "Don't start with no attitude, princess," Negan whispered, his lips getting closer to hers. His hands gripping her wrist tighter, Y/N tried to fight the grip but he was too strong. She wiggled behind him, finally giving up as his eyes just stayed on her.

"What's the costume, doll?" Negan asked her, his face was straight and seemed emotionless. Her eyes scanned his features, she could not help but feel turned on in this situation. She loved his dominant side, how jealous he could be of her. Y/N would never cheat on Negan or do anything to hurt him in any way; in fact, she was thinking she was falling in love with him. She could not help though watching him squirm if he was getting jealous about her.

"Well," Y/N gulped down, trying to make herself comfortable with him, "Claire was going to be the devil and I was going to be an angel." Negan's face stayed emotionless for a moment, growing nerves in Y/N's stomach. Finally, Negan broke the sexual silence with a burst of amusing laughter. Y/N hated that she had that scratch sneaking up her back, an itch perhaps. Something about that laughter seemed darker than most of his, she seemed to have heard this before though. Y/N barely could put words to describe it, but still felt turned on by the man in front of her.

Negan lifted her causing her to gasp, his hands on her waist; her hands out of habit wrapped around his neck. Negan laid his forehead against hers, and Y/N felt his member grow underneath, pressing against her. She bit her lip, hearing the sounds of the movie playing behind her that they had not even got to watch.

"And I bet you're going to look hot as fuck? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Negan questioned her, Y/N's mouth parted but she could not form words or a sentence to tell him what she thought. "Yeah, you'd look hot as fuck in anything, dollface." His lips brushed up her neck, causing her to moan out, "I guess you can go, only on one condition."

Negan grabbed her face, her cheeks squished up a bit. His other hands wrapped around her throat bringing her close. "What?" She croaked out, her lips teasing his own; brushing up against him. "If that Jackson shows up, you call me. If any guy messes with you, you call me." Negan was stern, he was serious. His eyes burned through her, she could have sworn she saw flames inside his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

Negan laughed as a dark, lustful chuckle came from his throat. He stalked closer to her still above her, eyeing the younger woman up and down hungrily.

“What do you want doll?” Negan asked her, his member growing more and more. "You want me to throw your legs over my neck and ruin you?" His words sent goosebumps down her spine.

“You can’t handle me, Negan. If anything, I’d ruin you." She blushed, keeping the wicked smirk on her face in front of Negan. Negan’s brows arch up in genuine surprise. Y/N was like Negan's prey and he was the predator, he wanted her desperately.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Negan says lowly. His eyes flick down to her, stopping at her lips. “Are you challenging me, darling?” Y/N was still pinned down, she felt her becoming wet in her sleep shorts. He turned her on so easily, anything this man did could get her going.

“Maybe. Are you up for it?”

“Oh, doll… you know I can fuck you any time of the day and any time of the week." Her shorts were pulled down as Y/N pulled at his loose sweatpants, getting him to remove his clothing. Negan's hands gripped her bare chest underneath her sweater. "You sure this party thing works out?" Negan wondered out loud, his fingers pressing against her bare clit. Her shorts were now on the floor, she never wore underwear at night usually just one of Negan's old shirts and shorts.

"Everything will work out." Y/N pulled the older man closer, pulling his boxers off next leaving him naked. The pulsing between her thighs grew stronger as his dark eyes stayed trained on her own.

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me already.” He smiled, rubbing her clit gently as she let out a slight moan. He pulled her close to him and ran his hands down Y/n's back, squeezing her plump ass roughly as he inhaled, she yelped as he landed a harsh slap to her bare ass.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” He smirked and pulled away from her, grabbing her hair tightly again.

“Now what the fuck do I do with you?” He mused. Y/N bit her lip pushing up wanting him inside of her already. He loved how desperate she looked beneath him, how her body was practically begging for it.

“You want it fuckin bad don’t you?” He moved to her breast, biting her nipple gently. Negan's hands were firmly under her ass. Everything about him was intoxicating, his mouth, his tongue, the way his beard felt on her bare skin. “Fuck that’s a pretty fuckin pussy.” He murmured as he ran a finger through her glistening folds, “Damn, you’re so wet for me already.” Y/N moaned out, her head digging deeper into the couch, the movie she had forgotten about playing behind them. Her body jolted as she moaned, hips searching for more release. He chuckled,

“Yeah…you’re gonna be coming for me real soon.” Negan's member teased her entrance, she choked out a loud moan. “Oh my God.” It came out in a broken whine as he stretched her, impaling her with his cock. Negan groaned lowly in her ear, holding the ends of the couch. He started to thrust in and out of her slowly. “You’re fucking tight baby.” Y/N could only respond with moans as he started to fuck her even faster, hitting deep inside of her. He wrapped her legs around his waist letting himself be deeper inside of her. Y/N kept choking on her moans, her nails digging into the couch fabric.

She loved how rough he was. Y/N loved the urgency and power of his thrusts as he fucked deeper into her than she thought possible. Negan's nails kept digging into her ass. "Go faster Negan please." She begged practically screaming for the neighbors to hear.

"You're mine." He growled in her ear, his thrust causing her eyes to roll back of her head, "I would do anything for you."

“Negan.” Y/N whined as he let her back down on the couch “I’m-oh fuck.” She couldn’t even finish your sentence because Y/N was already coming.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he pulled her back on his dick roughly, one of her legs resting on his shoulders up high. “Come on my fucking cock, just like that.”

She whimpered at him that he was satisfied with her, how much he loved to take care of her. His thrusts started to get sloppier and Y/N could tell he was chasing his orgasm. “I want your come so bad.” Y/N moaned, she begged him feeling his cock twitch inside of her. She could feel her pussy throb around him as she could feel another orgasm building up in her stomach.

Negan kept viciously thrusting as he sent her over the edge again. This time Negan came with her, moaning loudly into her neck as he came deep inside of her. Y/N's body shuddered and shook as she came from her second orgasm.

"Everything will work out." She breathed out.

Y/N adjusted her angel wings attached behind her, she had her full costume on ready to go with Claire who was taking millions of selfies in the bathroom. Negan was at a late practice for his football players so it gave the girls time to get ready at their apartment since it was closer to the party. "We are ditching if cops show!" Y/N yelled over to Claire her exiting the bathroom, she laughed rolling her eyes playfully. Claire was in a fierce matching red costume like Y/N's, instead of wings and a crown she had devil horns and a tail. "You look so hot, you're telling me Negan is not going to join ya?" She winked, he can wear a mask like I said no one would know." Y/N smirked at her comment going to answer her when her phone began to ring. The younger woman reached for it believing it was Negan seeing the caller ID, unknown.

Her eyebrows furrowed, feeling a familiar pit in her stomach start to grow. Y/N denied the call, tossing the phone on her bed and turning her attention back to the mirror continuing to adjust the revealing costume. "Who was that, Y/N?" Claire's curiosity grew looking at the phone lying on the bed, she had a smirk on her face thinking it was Negan herself. "Unknown caller, probably telemarketers," Y/N pulled her gloves up her arms, "They've been more annoying these past few days." Claire pulled her phone out while Y/N glanced over seeing her pop open her camera, "No, no pictures please." Y/N begged as Claire was already taking pictures of her, Y/N fighting to cover her face as she was laughing. "Oh come on, you look cute." Claire teased her friend, pushing her hands away from her face, "We never take pictures anymore."

Y/N finally gave in putting her hands down, giving a smile at the camera, Claire and her started to make funny faces causing the girls to laugh. They had been friends ever since high school, she knew about her and Negan's relationship a few months after it started. Y/N only trusted her, she knew she would keep it a secret even her boyfriend Ted. "Come on, let's head on over." Claire squealed, putting her phone away and nudging Y/N to follow her out. "Let me text Negan we are leaving, we can just stay a couple of hours." Y/N pointed her finger sternly at her party animal-like friend.

The two friends headed out getting into Claire's car, the entire time she could have sworn she felt eyes on them. She peered over her shoulders seeing no one in the dark or even the dark corners.

The party was already pretty crowded once they arrived. The frat party was located at Ted's uncle's cabin deeper in the woods. There were a lot of people drinking and doing drugs that she did not even know the names of. She stuck away from that just to drinking, maybe a smoke of a blunt or a hit from a bong would not be bad.

Claire and Y/N had been there a couple of hours staying near each other with their drinks in hand. They danced all over each other, talking to each other's friends and classmates. Y/N was feeling pretty tipsy already with her fifth drink in hand. She drank her vodka-mixed drink grinding on her friend behind her to the music. Negan sent her a text just to behave and call him if she needed anything. He trusted her enough to take care of herself, she knew if she needed him she would call right away. "That guy across the room has not taken his eyes off you," Y/N yelled at her friend loud enough for her to over the music, dancing with her. Claire pivoted her hand towards the male staring at her and raising his drink in her direction. "Go, I will be okay, I will find Jess," Y/N reassured her, Jess was one of their older roommates from their freshman year in college.

Claire was a little hesitant, she knew the guy from a few of her classes but did not want to leave her best friend high and dry. "No, we promised each other," Claire whined a little, seeing the guy smirk at her; his eyes scanning over her. "If you do not go Claire, I will push you over there myself." Y/N gave her a slight nudge, causing Claire to giggle. "I will call you in a couple of hours, I promise." Claire quickly kissed her cheek, going over to greet the eyeing man. Y/N pushed through the crowd, keeping her eyes peeled for her friend Jessica around. She could feel her phone buzz, tucked away in her bra. The buzzing continued, and she realized she was getting a call. Y/N pulled the phone from her cleavage seeing an unknown caller again, they’d been calling for days. Y/N finally had enough getting upstairs to a quieter place, swiping left quickly answering the phone.

“Look I don’t know who this is but please stop calling,” Y/N had her phone lingering over the red button to end the call when she heard her name being called over the phone.

“Hello, Y/N.” The voice seemed static, but deeper male voice. Y/N's face fell, and her finger tightened around her phone. She quickly looked around her surroundings seeing a few people chatting a drinking; some making out. “Who is this?” Y/N questioned, Deep down she hoped this was all some Halloween prank.

She hated the gut feeling she had.

Just when she turned back around she bumped right into someone, and her phone fell to the ground. Y/N eyes moved up seeing the taller man in front of her, Jackson. She tended up quickly grabbing her phone from the ground seeing the caller had hung up, Jackson smirked filled with wickedness. He eyed the angel in front of him, and Y/N stepped back away from him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” She growled, eyeing him up and down, himself in a simple cop costume, “Ted does not like you, so I know he did not invite you.” Jackson just chuckled at the younger woman walking around her, Y/N’s eyes followed his movements. His hands rested in his pockets, Y/N thought she saw something inside his pockets hiding away with his hands. Her eyes moved up to him, being closer to her now.

“If there is a party, you know I have to be a part of it.” Jackson reminded her, he was known for being parties. They were always doing something with each other going to parties and living it up to the fullest. Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms, her phone in hand, “You look good, Y/N. I want to talk to you.” Y/N tried to walk away feeling his hand pull her back, she gasped in disbelief. Luckily half the people at the party were downstairs, the people upstairs kept their attention to themselves. Y/N tried to fight his grip, feeling Jackson pull her closer. “You shouldn’t be out with a killer on the loose,” Jackson's lips curled, and the younger woman pulled her arm from his grip. “You can fuck off Jackson,” Y/N hissed, “You lost every right to control me when you fucked other women.” Y/N was loud causing a few stares to peer over at them and a few whispers lingering around them. Y/N did not even have time to hear what he had to say or even the look on his face he may have had. She quickly went to an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She pulled her phone out, scrolling to Negan’s contact to call him bringing the phone to her ear and hearing two rings before he was quick to pick up. “Ready to leave already, doll?” Negan picked up the phone, feeling like nothing was wrong with his girl. He sat on the couch with his sweatpants on watching one of the newer Scream movies, one of his favorites. “No, Jackson is here,” she heard pure silence over the phone not even his breath, “He fucking grabbed me and..” Y/N was cut off by him, “I’m on my way.”

Before she could even protest, he hung up the phone as she stared at her screen in shock. Y/N debated on calling him back but she knew nothing would change his mind coming up here, he was a very stubborn man. The young woman shoved her phone back in her strapless bra underneath her costume, eyeing herself in the mirror. She fixed her crown, adjusting it as straight as it could be. She groaned out, debating on even going back to the party or just keeping herself hidden in the bathroom. The music echoed out from the bathroom, voices muffled out passing the door. Y/N just sucked it up, letting herself out of the bathroom and getting past people down the stairs, her buzz fading away from running into Jackson getting her adrenaline up and taking any fun she had away.

Y/N once again felt her chest buzz again from her phone, from an incoming call again. “Negan look, just come me and we will leave.” She answered, yelling more for the man to hear her; not even looking at the ID. “I don’t think it’s time to leave my Y/N.” A familiar voice rang in her ear, that same static voice moments ago. In the crowd, Y/N saw a scream mask. She took a look again making sure she saw correctly not seeing the banned mask anymore. Ever since the killings they banned the costume from Halloween this year since the killer was rumored to dress like the fictional character. The man she thought she saw was dressed in all black with the mask, she kept her eyes peeled for more. Y/N tried to keep telling herself this was all a Halloween prank, of course, someone would show up in a costume like him.

Y/N pushed the phone closer to her ear to hear the man behind the phone more. “I want to play a little game, doll.” Her eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, making her feel sick to her stomach. Y/N stopped in her tracks trying to go to a more secluded area, to be able to talk better. “Who the fuck are you?” Y/N was scared, with everything going on in town, someone could be after her next. “The game is not asking questions here, Y/N.” The darker voice chuckled at the end, her stomach twisted stopping in her tracks and seeing the man in the mask once again in the crowd. “What do you want?” She quickly asked, keeping her eyes on the ghost face costume disappearing right in front of her eyes again.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” He told her, the voice was not static anymore. Y/N recognized the voice instantly making her nauseous. The fear kicked in quickly and everything just rushed over her, “I’ve been wanting your attention so long, Y/N.” The young girl turned around running right into the ghost face costume she’d been seeing, her phone still pressed against her ear. Y/N took off running beside him outside to the backyard, they had a bunch of activities going outside out there. A smaller haunted house, a few drinking games, and people partying in the people with the temperature even a little lower for the fall weather. She quickly ran into the haunted house they had set up hearing a scream in the distance as she entered. Bunches of ugly Halloween decorations hung up in this side pool house they were using. Most of the people dressed up in scary costumes just jumping out in corners with a bunch of Halloween decorations in every corner; some popping out on their own. Y/N tried to get Negan to pick up his phone, but it kept going straight to voicemail. Her eyes were tearing up, she realized how much of a bad idea it was just to run straight here. She was terrified to tell anyone, she did not know where any of her friends were.

An animatronic popped out at her causing her to scream, as it pulled back in away from her. Creepy music played around her, she felt tears jerking at the ends of her eyelashes. In a longer hallway, someone jumped out at her wrapping their arms around her. Y/N screams were muffled covering her mouth with his black glove she eyed. The younger woman tried to fight back seeing in the mirror above her, that the attacker was the ghost face from earlier. She pushed him off, taking off running as he grabbed her longer hair hanging down. She squealed out in pain, Y/N was pulled back and slammed to the floor knocking the crown from her head off. Y/N looked up from the ground, a knife in hand he pulled his mask off revealing his face.

Jackson breathes out, throwing the mask on the floor behind him. He wiggled the knife in front of her face as she lay on the ground still in shock even though she recognized the voice. Jackson brought a smaller device to his lips, keeping the evil smirk plastered on her face.

“Surprise, Y/N.” The static voice rang in her ears, she tried to crawl away to stand up being pulled by him. Y/N cried out but most would think it was just screams from the scary haunted house she was in. “You can not appreciate anything I do for you, huh?” He questioned her, fighting against the slaps and kicks she gave him from the ground, “I’ve done all this for you, but you decide fucking some old man is better.” Jackson swiped his knife in front of her and she jumped back, kicking him right in the stomach. Jackson’s hands shot up to his stomach, groaning out in pain. Y/N took her chance again getting up and taking off running, her heels slowing down her runs ending up tripping her in a darker bedroom area.

Y/N cried out in pain, landing on the floor and seeing a bed with a fake dead person on the bed with flashing lights around her. Y/N heard Jackson’s voice behind her, trying to lift herself but her legs were hurting pretty badly from the fall. “I loved you Y/N, I know I was not perfect but I wanted you.” He flipped her over from her belly, holding her leg where she could not go anywhere from him. Jackson’s grip was strong, leaving a bruise around her ankle from his grip, “If I can’t have you Y/N no one can.” Jackson was now on top of her having her pinned against the ground, she tried to scream out throwing punches at him. His knife was held high about to be shoved right in her chest, she did not even have time to blink when she saw a knife go through Jackson’s chest.

He let out a gasp, blood splattered on Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks. The blade went all the way through, his hands were shaky going up to the blade as he fell over. Gushing out blood, he kept coughing on the blood the knife pushing more as he was lying on the ground forcing it too. Y/N stayed in a state of shock watching her ex’s eyes go grey slowly, watching the life slowly get sucked away from his body.

Y/N eyed up at her savior seeing another ghost face costume, she slowly stood up mascara going down her cheeks. Her own hands were shaky, continuing to hear Jackson’s coughs. They stayed still in front of her, letting the younger woman’s hands reach up towards them. Y/N slid the mask off, keeping it in her hands. Letting herself see Negan’s face, Tears were still pouring down, her eyes were still full of them when she instantly pulled him in for a kiss.

Blood still stained her, wrapping her arms around the older male. She kept the mask in hand, dragging her teeth against his lips.

“Oh no, mister scary killer don’t kill me..” Y/N playfully begged, she knew she was a little crazy. Negan loved it, biting her lip and pulling it between his teeth.

“God, that was so hot,” Negan moaned, he placed his lips against her neck, Y/N kept her neck exposed letting her eyes roll to the back of her head, “He’s finally gone.” She couldn’t stop laughing, looking over now at her lifeless ex’s eyes. Negan looked down at her, holding her chin high. “Isn’t it perfect? Such a perfect cover-up killing the actual killer.” Negan wiped the blood from her cheeks, “We need to get this cleaned up, doll.” Y/N bit her lips, throwing the mask down and shrugging her shoulders slightly. “I don’t know, maybe we could slide in a quickie.” Y/N batted her eyelashes innocently, “Next time I get to wear the mask.” She slammed her lips onto his, Negan knew she was far from innocent she was mad just like him.

They were made just for each other and no one was going to get in the way of that.

#negan smut #negan x reader #the walking dead #negan fanfiction #negan x y/n #negan fluff #negan x oc #negan x you #neganau #negansmith #negan smith #negansmithau #professornegansmith #twd #twd negan #negan imagine #negansmithseries #negan smith smut #negansmithsmutseries #twdsmut #twdsmutseries #twd aesthetic #twdfanficsmut #twd moodboard #twd fanfiction #neganfanfiction #negantwd #negan twdsmut #negan fic #negan the walking dead

[m-writes-stories]

The Kansas City Couple Part 1

Takes Place During the Off Season (Mid-February to May)

Word Count: 878 words

Warnings: talk about a car accident (I think that is it please let me know if I forgot something)

Interviewer: Welcome to the new NFL based Documentary: “The Kansas City Couple.” This is a documentary about Y/N and Travis Kelce. Travis mostly got his fame during the 2020 season in which the Kansas City Chiefs won Super Bowl LIV. But the couple got the eye of the public in 2022 when Y/N posted on her Tik Tok talking about the couple’s relationship.

Y/N: Hi, my name is Y/N Kelce. In 2022 for Travis and I’s anniversary I made a slide show, and I posted part of it on tik tok. And let's just say it blew up. The video was just about how Travis and I have been friends since 2nd grade. And ever since then we have been inseparable since. Travis and I have, like I said, been friends since 2nd grade. We kinda, not really, started dating our freshman year of high school. But we were really just best friends. Our junior year, we officially started dating but it was off and on. After Christmas that year we were together and stayed together for a year. Until January of our senior year when I got in a car accident and that put a barrier between Travis and I. But we got back together in April before we graduated. Then we went to college together. And since the end of our sophomore year, of college,we have lived together. Travis and I got married in 2017, after what felt like forever of telling people it was at some point gonna happen.

Travis: I told people forever that I was gonna propose. But I never thought the time was right. I finally proposed at Christmas in 2015. I decided that it was time and she said yes. We have been together for 15 years and 5 months. When people hear that we were high school sweethearts they always say that we will get divorced soon, but that still hasn’t happened and it won’t happen. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t think that I would be able to function as a NFL player without her. She makes sure my bag is packed each week. I pick my outfits but she checks my bag.

Interviewer: Has she had to bring things to the games that you have forgotten?

Travis: Oh 1000%. I’m pretty sure she brought extra socks at the first home game last season. She is my lifeline, she makes sure I don’t get fired.

Y/N: I brought his jersey to him one time. That he was 100% sure that he wouldn’t forget. I think I bring him something for each home game. I don’t check his bag as thoroughly for home games. For away games I spend like 2 hours checking his bag the night before he leaves. And then like another hour and a half before he leaves. I literally check every pocket and pouch, everything.

Interviewer: What would you say is the worst part about the off season?

Travis: I would say mine is the fact that I don't really have an off season. I’m still studying film. I do routine workouts. My brain is still focused on football even if we aren’t actively practicing or playing.

Y/N: I would say mine is that it feels super short. Cause it isn’t really that great of a time. Because it is like 4 months long. Which like Travis said, isn’t really an off time. It’s probably more chaotic than the actual season. Well, training camp is the most chaotic. And not just cause Travis is doing things, but I also have to get ready for the next season, basically right after the superbowl. We do as much work as we can in the off season: like work on the house, charity work, cleaning as much as possible. Because we all know I have the hardest time keeping the house clean during the season.

Travis: Yeah, like Y/N said, we don’t have a lot of time during the season for bigger projects or things we need to do. And so the off season is the best time to do that. So it makes it hard for us to really have down time. We spend a lot of time during training camp apart so we spend the off season doing projects together.

Interviewer: What is your favorite part about a game?

Travis: Besides doing what I love… I love being able to see Y/N in the stands. We spent a long time trying out different seats at Arrowhead. Trying to find the seat we can see each other the best. And we finally did. And now it makes me the happiest. Especially when I get a touchdown or a good catch and I look up and see her sitting there..

Y/N: You're gonna make me cry. My favorite part is seeing him do his favorite thing. Seeing him play and live out his dream of playing in the NFL. I remember being in high school and he always told me that he would play his heart out in the NFL for me. And now he is.

Interviewer: Alright, the next time you will see this amazing couple will be during Training Camp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Ok? How do we feel is it exciting? Do we like it? Give me feedback please!

Love, M

#travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce #travis kelce x reader #kansas city chiefs

[otteranha]

Insidious is the word Eddie would use for the letters that come in the mail, first to the trailer then later to their various shabby, wonderful apartments. Steve feels it even if he doesn’t have the same vast vocabulary that Eddie does, insidious is what the letters feel like.

One way plane ticket to join them in Palm Springs, with a series of college applications folded up underneath.

A brochure for a backpacking trip across Europe and his mother describing how their friend’s children had also taken gap years before they got their shit act together.

They invite him for Christmas in New York. There’s informational materials on Fordham University and NYU, but at least this time they haven’t actually started filling out applications for him.

A FedEx arrives with the a lift badge and a key to the ski lodge they’re staying at in Vale. Photos of the beautiful scenery and incidentally the beautiful daughters of their friends on the slopes.

Eddie sees them like an octopus, a kraken, endlessly reaching out arms to pull Steve back into the life they wanted him to have. He knows Steve loves him, loves their life together, but they always leave him in a weird, empty mood. It keeps Eddie awake at night thinking of the next plane ticket to come. How dare they? How dare they? They’d all but disappeared after Steve graduated from high school, the silent treatment for not getting into college, for not trying to get into college. Then turned him out completely when they found out about him and Eddie, not knowing if their son, their injured, traumatized son would have a roof over his head. Because they always thought he’d come crawling back, lesson learned, ready to dance their little dance. He thinks But that didn’t happen and now they’re starting to worry, they’re starting to sweat that they won’t have junior to join the family business, they won’t have the perfect daughter-in-law to criticize and the 2.5 grandkids to show off, they’re starting to worry about the Harrington family name.

It’s not fair to Steve because he always, always throws the letters in the trash. He doesn’t even open them if he can tell from the envelope who they’re from but it’s not always obvious, and he’s a smidge paranoid about missing a bill. Eddie opens them all out of morbid curiosity. He knows it’s not good for him, not good for them that it’s just fueling his own fear and thick, bitter anger at them for making Eddie afraid, for making Steve look so sad until-

“Uh, babe what’s this?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s come home with a bunch of official looking papers. “It’s a boilerplate for a cease and desist letter. Did you know you don’t need a lawyer to send one? I was talking to Daphne down at the library about the letters we keep getting from my parents and she showed me these. See, you fill in your own stuff like mad libs.”

All Eddie can do is stare slack-jawed. His voice comes out hoarse, “Mad libs?”

“It’s more serious than that, obviously, that’s just the only thing I could think of when she showed me.” Daphne down at the library loves Steve, all the librarians love Steve. Most of them love Eddie too but he hasn’t noticed.

“So you send them this cease and desist thing and they legally have to stop offering you all expenses paid trips to Nice?”

“It’s worth a try.”

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Eddie tries not to let his voice break.

Steve looks at him seriously. “I know they still think it’s not too late for the whole prodigal son thing, but every time I think about the things I would have to do or not do to make them love me, if they even really could love me-” he sighs, “And the way I’d have to live. I know you think it’s some huge sacrifice for me to be with you and ignore my parents, but it’s not just that. It would be Robin too. And Dustin and Erica and Will and the rest of my little weirdos because they’re little weirdos. You would be worth it on your own, you would. But even without that, I can’t live like them.” He finally smiles at Eddie, winks then climbs on the table and announces in a dramatic tone, “Forced conformity! That’s what’s killing the kids!”

Eddie pulls him off the table and Steve kisses his teary, snotty face.

“Shut up, I do not sound like that!”

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things hc #stranger things au #st steddie #stranger things fic #steve harrington has bad parents

[we-are-inevitable]

Now… transmasc Davey… he’s tumbling around in my brain like a loose sock in the dryer… thoughts and feelings? 👀

transmasc davey who’s always known he feels Different because sarah is his twin sister and they are supposed to be the same and she loves dresses but why doesn’t he? transmasc davey who tries out for sports even though he doesn’t really like them because sarah is the girly sister, so he’ll pick up the tomboy act, and it’s a lot more acceptable for girls to be covered in dirt and grime when you soend hours practicing softball every day. transmasc davey who asks for a haircut going into freshman year of high school because he’s tired of looking exactly like his sister and being mistaken for her, so he gets a shoulder length cut, and then a chin length cut, and then a pixie, and suddenly he feels a lot more confident. transmasc davey who, by some stroke of luck, got his father’s genes and is 6’1 as a junior in high school and knows he’s queer now, but doesn’t know why shopping for prom dressed with sarah is making his chest ache or why he feels more comfortable in baggy jeans and hoodies or why he has a crush on jack yet doesn’t want to pursue or ask him to prom because it feels weird and wrong right now.

transmasc davey who buys a compression bra the summer before senior year and realizes Oh. Oh wait. There’s something here. transmasc davey who comes out to sarah first before anyone else and sarah is only upset because davey could have worn a matching suit to her prom dress if he had figured this out like three months sooner. transmasc davey who chooses his name because he’s not a jewelry person but he’s worn a Star of David necklace every day for the past six years because his parents wanted him to have it.

transmasc davey who wears a binder to the first day of school senior year and excitedly tells all of his friends. transmasc davey gets to pick a suit out for winter formal and actually gets to have it tailored using some of his savings from his summer job. transmasc davey who asks jack to prom and has his first kiss in a school gym and finally feels right.

transmasc davey who gets to explore himself in college, who starts T freshman year and gets involved with activist groups on campus, who shares an apartment with jack starting sophomore year, who is a cat dad to an awful little kitten, who gets top surgery after saving for years and years as a college graduation gift to himself, who wears a suit to his wedding and helps organize pride events every summer and works with queer youth and marginalized communities and spends his life using his voice to advocate and build community and stick up for the little guys.

transmasc davey.

#this is so much longer than i meant it to be but anon. i have brain worms now. #trans davey and his exploration of gender as an identical twin >> #trans davey and his relationship with his chaotic bisexual boyfriend >>>> #trans davey >>>>>>>> #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #newsies #livesies #newsies musical #javid #javey